Persephone checked her phone. Adonis has just texted that he had arrived. When she looked up, she spotted Minthe and Adonis approaching from opposite directions—Minthe looked angry, Adonis surprised.
They came to a stop a few feet from her.
“What is he doing here?” Minthe snapped.
“What's she doing here?” Adonis asked.
“It's so I won't have to repeat myself,” she said. “I know Minthe took the photos you are blackmailing me with.” Her phone buzzed and she checked it before adding, “Or rather, I should say, were blackmailing me with. As of this second, your devices have been hacked and the photos removed.”
Adonis paled, and Minthe still looked angry.
“You can't do that—it's—it's illegal!” Adonis argued.
“Illegal like blackmail?” Persephone said. That shut him up.
Persephone turned her attention to Minthe.
“I suppose you’ll run and tell on me?” she asked.
“Why would I do that?” Persephone’s question was genuine, but it only seemed to irritate Minthe further.
“Let’s not play act, Goddess,” Minthe said. “Revenge, of course. I’m surprised you didn’t tell Hades I was the one who sent you into Tartarus.”
“Did she just call you goddess?” Adonis jumped in, but a glare from Minthe and Persephone had him silent again.
“I prefer to fight my own battles,” Persephone said.
“With what? Your words?” Minthe offered a sarcastic laugh.
“I understand that you are jealous of me,” Persephone said. “But your anger is misplaced.”
If anything, she should be angry with Hades, or maybe angry with herself for wasting time pining after a man who didn’t love her.
“You understand nothing!” Minthe seethed. “All these years I stood beside him, only to wither in your shadow as he flaunted you to his whole kingdom like you were already his queen!” Minthe was right—she didn’t understand. She couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to dedicate your life—your love—to a person who never returned it. Then Minthe added in a shaky voice, “You were supposed to fall in love with him, not the other way around.”
Persephone flinched. So, Minthe had been aware of the terms of the bargain. She wondered if Hades had told her, or if she’d been present when Aphrodite had set her terms. It made her embarrassed to think that Minthe had watched her fall in love with Hades, knowing his deception.
“Hades doesn’t love me,” Persephone said.
“Stupid girl,” Minthe shook her head. “If you cannot see it, then maybe you aren’t worthy of him.”
Persephone did not like being called stupid. Anger ignited in her veins, and her fingers curled into fists. Minthe seemed amused by her frustration.
“Hades betrayed me,” Persephone’s voice shook.
“How? Because he chose not to tell you about his contract with Aphrodite? Given that you wrote a derisive article about him within a few days of meeting him, I’m not at all surprised he didn’t confide in you. He was probably afraid that if you found out, you would act like the child you are.”
Minthe was treading on thin ice.
“You should have been more thankful for your time in our world,” she said. “It’s the most powerful you will ever be.”
It was at that moment, Persephone knew how it felt to be truly wicked. A smile curled her lips and Minthe suddenly sobered, sensing something had changed.
“No,” Persephone said, and with a flick of her wrist, a vine shot out from the ground and curled around Minthe’s feet. As the nymph started to scream, another vine closed over her mouth, silencing her. “This is the most powerful I will ever be.”
She snapped her fingers, and Minthe shrunk and morphed until the curvaceous nymph was nothing more than a lush mint plant.
Adonis’s eyes went wide with disbelief. “Oh my gods! You-you—”
Persephone approached the plant and plucked it from the ground, then she turned and kneed Adonis in the groin.
The mortal collapsed, and writhed on the ground. Persephone watched him a moment, content to see him suffer.
“You will threaten me no longer or I will see you cursed,” she said, a deadly calm overtaking her voice.
He spoke between breaths. “You… can’t… have… Aphrodite’s… favor!”
Persephone smirked, and tilted her head to the side. It wasn’t until a slender vine reached around to caress his face that he started to scream. Persephone had turned his arms into literal limbs, and they were quickly growing foliage.