A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(15)

She opened and closed her mouth, looking around the empty club.

“This seems pretty private.”

“It isn’t,” he said, and headed up the stairs without another word. She followed. As they came to the top of the steps, he took a right—away from the room she’d been in the night before—toward a black wall, elaborately embellished with gold. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it the night before. Two large doors bore images of vines and flowers curling around Hades’ bident, raised in gold relief. The rest of the wall was patterned with floral designs in gold.

She probably shouldn’t be so surprised that the God of the Dead chose to decorate with flowers—the narcissus was his symbol, after all.

Her eyes were drawn to Hades as he opened one of the gilded doors. She was not eager to be in an enclosed space with him. She didn’t trust her thoughts or her body. This time, he called her out.

“Will you hesitate at every turn, Lady Persephone?” he asked.

She glared. “I was just admiring your decor, Lord Hades. I did not notice this last night.”

“The doors to my quarters are often veiled during business hours,” he replied, and then indicated to the open door. “Shall we?”

Once again, she gathered her courage, and approached. He didn’t leave much room for her to pass, and she brushed against him as she stepped into the room.

She found herself in Hades’ office. The first thing she noticed were the windows that overlooked the club floor. He could see everything from here. There were no windows to the outside, and despite this, the space was warmly lit and oddly cozy, even with its black marble floor. Maybe it had something to do with the fireplace against the wall. A couch and two chairs made a lovely sitting area, and a fur rug only added to the comforting aesthetic. At the far end of the room, elevated like a throne was a large obsidian slab that acted as Hades’ desk. From what she could tell, there was nothing on it—no paperwork or pictures. She wondered if he used it at all or if was just for show.

Immediately in front of her was a table upon which a vase of blood red flowers rested.

She rolled her eyes at the floral arrangement.

Hades closed the door, and she stiffened. This was dangerous. She should have confronted him downstairs where there was more space, where she was better able to think and breath without inhaling him. His boots tapped against the floor as he neared, and her body grew taunt.

Hades stopped in front of her. His eyes scoured her face, lingering on her lips for a split second before lowering to her neck. When he reached out to touch her, Persephone’s hand clamped down on his arm. It wasn’t that she feared him as much as she feared her reaction to his touch.

Their eyes met.

“Are you hurt?” he asked.

“No,” she said, and he nodded, carefully pulling his arm free of her grasp. He crossed the room, Persephone assumed to put distance between them.

Then she remembered she was in her true form, and started to raise her glamour.

“Oh, it’s a little too late to be modest, don’t you think?” Hades said, piercing her with those beautiful dark eyes. He tugged his tie free and she watched it slip from his neck before lifting her eyes to his. He wasn’t smirking like she expected. He looked...primal. Like a starved animal who had finally cornered his prey. She swallowed and hurriedly said, “Did I interrupt something?”

She wasn’t sure she wanted an answer.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I was just about to go to bed when I heard you demanding entrance to my club.”

Bed? It was well past noon.

“Imagine my surprise when I find the goddess from last night on my doorstep.”

“Did the gorgon tell you?”

She stepped further into the room, angry. Hades was amused.

“No. Euryale did not. I recognized your magic as Demeter’s, but you are not Demeter.” Then he tilted his head like he had earlier. “When you left, I consulted a few texts. I had forgotten Demeter had a daughter. I assumed you were Persephone. Question is, why aren’t you using your own magic?”

“Is that why you did this?” she demanded, removing the bracelet she’d used to cover the mark on her skin, and holding up her arm.

Hades smirked.

Actually smirked.

Persephone wanted to attack him. She clenched her hands at her sides to keep from vaulting across the room.

“No,” he said. “That is the result of losing against me.”

“You were teaching me to play,” she argued.

“Semantics,” he said with a shrug. “The rules of Nevernight are very clear, Goddess.”

“They are anything but clear, and you are an asshole!”

Hades eyes darkened. Apparently, he didn’t like being called names any more than the ogre did. He pushed away from the desk, striding toward her. Persephone took a step back.

“Don’t call me names, Persephone,” he said, and then reached for her wrist. He traced the bracelet all around, making her shiver. “When you invited me to your table, you entered into an agreement. If you had won, you could have left Nevernight with no demands on your time. But you didn’t, and now, we have a contract.”

She swallowed, considering every horrible thing she’d heard about Hades’ contracts and his impossible terms. What darkness would he pull from deep inside her?