A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)(14)

“A second obol,” Acacius said.

Hades’s hand curled into a fist, but he said nothing and instead summoned another coin, placing it on the counter.

He would take them back later.

“Titan,” Acacius said.

“Titan is not favored,” Hades replied.

“You asked for the winner of the Hellene Cup. I gave it.” Acacius dragged the coins toward himself, letting them scrape loudly against the counter.

Hades ground his teeth. “Now leave.”

The dismissal had ignited Hades’s magic then, just as it did now, making it vibrate against his skin. He could have dropped his glamour and reveled himself to the mortal, but he felt he’d have more leverage later.

Threatening death and eternal torture did not always work on the underbelly of society. They tended not to fear him as much as those on the straight and narrow, which was why Hecate’s presence was necessary.

Every mortal feared her, even if they didn’t know it quite yet.

New Athens was made up of districts. Some were known to the world at large and their purpose evident—the fashion district and the pleasure district were two examples. Then there were those that were unknown, pockets of New Athens that might look pleasing enough in the daylight, but when night fell, they transformed into terrifying and violent landscapes.

The worst of these was called Hybris, named after the daimon of the same name who presided over violence, recklessness, and hubris. Its proximity to a major motorway, a railway, and a port meant that it was the perfect area to move a combination of illegal materials across New Greece. Despite this, the district proved useful to Hades, and he had even made use of its inhabitants’ abilities to gain various weapons, relics…even people.

It was one reason he allowed it to continue, but not without oversight.

Hades and Hecate appeared before a large, metal building. A matching metal fence kept most of the building obscured from view, so it was impossible for outsiders to tell how large it was, but Hades knew it was extensive. Behind its facade as a mechanic shop was a business that received stolen goods, sold them, and moved them across New Athens, and it was all owned by Acacius.

“Charming,” Hecate said, but it was clear she was not impressed. She stood beside Hades, concealed in her black robes.

He glanced at her. “You look like Thanatos.”

“Better Thanatos than a greasy mortal,” she replied. “Why are you hiding anyway? You’re not one for dramatics outside your relationship.”

Hades glowered. “I’d rather Acacius not realize he’s dealing with me until the last possible moment.”

The two entered the open gate. There were six garage doors, each open and occupied by a variety of cars. A few of the men who milled about in the lot stared openly, probably because Hecate looked like Thanatos.

Hades groaned inwardly.

“Can I help you?” A man approached, wiping his hands on an oil-stained towel. He was dressed in a blue button-up with the name Giorgos embroidered on the left pocket.

“Is Acacius here?” Hades asked.

“Who’s asking?”

Annoyance made his spine stiffen, and for a moment, he forgot he wore the skin of a mundane mortal. At the same time, Hades felt the energy shift between them. Hecate was casting a spell. The smell of her magic permeated the air, likely undetectable by the man opposite them. Hades could tell when the spell hit because the man’s expression shifted to friendly confusion.

“Sorry. Let me take you to him.”

Hades glanced at the goddess whose face he could not see beneath the hood she had pulled far over her head.

“What would you do without me?” she asked.

“Be far more inconspicuous,” Hades replied.

The garage felt humid and smelled like oil and gasoline, and while it was lit by rows of fluorescent lights, there were dark pockets throughout the warehouse-like shop. Hades imagined they concealed various illegal goods.

Now and then, the sounds of an engine revving or a car squealing interrupted the chatter of the workers.

Acacius was working under the hood of a red car. Hades recognized him even before Giorgos called out his name.

“You have visitors.”

Acacius kept his back to them, continuing to work beneath the hood of the car. He was taking his time to greet them. It was the behavior of a man who believed he had both time and power, and Hades supposed that, as of right now, that was still the case. Beside him, Hecate grew impatient, and when he felt her cast another spell, he gave her a warning look. He needed this to unfold as naturally as possible.

When Acacius finally straightened and turned to face them, he had a cigarette in his mouth, which he removed only to blow smoke in their direction. He was a round man with a swath of dark, curly hair. His lips were thin, and when he spoke, he revealed a set of uneven, oddly spaced teeth.

“I don’t return payment,” he said, then his eyes shifted to Hecate. “So you and your friend can go back the way you came.”

His soul was almost as unpleasant as his exterior, the only bright spot being the dedication he had to his family.

“I haven’t come to seek repayment,” Hades replied. “Your prediction was right.”

“So what? You want to strike another deal?”

“Of sorts,” Hades replied.

Acacius stared and was either smiling or scowling. Hades could not tell which. Acacius placed his cigarette in his mouth and spoke as he turned to close the hood of the car.