She glared at him. “Don’t lecture me, Hades. You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with.”
“Of course not,” he said, surly. “That would mean you’d have to talk to me.”
“You mean like you talk to me?” she countered. “I’m not the only one with communication problems, Hades.”
He pressed his lips together and took a step away from her.
“I didn’t come here to argue with you or lecture you. I came to see if you were okay.”
“Why come at all? Antoni would have told you.”
She’d have probably preferred that. He looked away from her, scowling.
“I had to,” he said and took a breath. “I had to see you myself.”
She stepped toward him. “Hades, I—”
“I should go,” he said. “I’m late for a meeting.”
And while it was true, he knew he was really running from her.
*
Hades teleported to the Grove, which, while he owned it, was operated by Ilias. He preferred anonymity and applied the same practice to his other restaurants scattered about—a couple of pubs and cafés, even a few street carts. If there was one thing Hades had learned in the time he had been alive, it was that people tended to talk more when drink and food were close at hand. It was a great way to gather intel on the various happenings across New Greece.
He manifested beside Ilias, who stood in the shadows on the rooftop restaurant, observing operations. Staff buzzed about carrying trays of drinks and food, and there was a low murmur that ebbed and flowed as people conversed and ate and moved dishes about. It was the only indication of how busy it truly was, since parties were hidden in pockets of lush flora.
“Right on time,” Ilias commented, glancing at Hades once and then nodding as a host led two familiar individuals to a table out of sight.
One was Theseus.
The other was Ariadne.
“Shocking,” Hades said, though his voice was monotone, and he was not so much surprised as he was disappointed. Now he wondered what the detective’s objective had been when she had begged for his help.
“They dated very briefly,” the satyr explained. “But it seems Theseus was more interested in Ariadne’s sister, Phaedra.”
This was the first time Hades had heard that Ariadne had a sister, and if that were the case, why were they at the Grove?
“Thank you, Ilias,” Hades said before he called up his glamour to move unseen between gardens, lush alcoves, and canopied groves. He found the pair at a round table nestled in a recess of vines.
“I am in need of a favor,” Theseus was saying.
“I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement.”
He seemed to ignore her comment and continued. “I need you to help remove any suspicion your fellow detectives may have that I am involved with the Impious.”
“Why?” Ariadne asked, her voice on edge.
“Rumor has it they are about to become more…vocal.”
She did not ask what that meant, but Hades thought he had an idea, and he didn’t like it. The Impious were mortals who did not worship the gods. It was more of a belief system than it was an institution, though some chose to organize under the banner of Triad. It was an organization that used to terrorize the public to prove that the gods were passive, but with Theseus at the helm, they pretended to put aside their aggressive tactics in favor of appearing peaceful, though if Hades had to guess by Theseus’s ask, he’d found a new avenue to execute his violence, and he didn’t want the connection known.
“How can I possibly be responsible for what people think, Theseus?”
“You can. I do it all the time.”
“Just like you’ve done with my sister?”
The demigod did not flinch at her retort, though Hades was certain she meant it as an insult.
“Since you brought her up, I’ll remind you what’s at stake.”
“You already owe me one visit with her, Theseus,” she said, leaning across the table as she spoke through her teeth. “I helped you find the Graeae.”
“And they were useless,” he said.
“Like you?” she countered with her usual venom.
Theseus glared. “I am not the one who consistently fails to deliver.”
“I deliver. You just don’t like the results.”
“And you must not like seeing your sister.”
She sneered at him, but Hades noticed how Theseus stared at her, eyes set intently on her mouth. It was a predatory gaze, and after everything he had said to her tonight, it made Hades want to pluck his eyes from his head and shove them down his throat.