A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(23)

Minthe paused and nodded. “Persephone, my lord.”

Her tone had taken on that sultry edge again. Persephone imagined she used it when she wanted to bend men to her will. Perhaps she forgot Hades was a god. She shifted, turning to face Persephone again, standing just behind the god.

“And...her friend, Adonis,” she added.

It was at the mention of Adonis, that Hades eyes finally left Persephone, and she felt released from a spell. Hades gaze slid to her counterpart and darkened before he nodded to Minthe.

“You are dismissed, Minthe. Thank you.”

Once she was gone, Hades moved to fill a glass with brown liquid from a crystal decanter. He did not ask them to sit or if they wanted any. It wasn’t a good sign. He intended this meeting to be very short.

“To what do I owe this...intrusion?” he asked.

Her eyes narrowed at the word. She wanted to ask him the same—because that’s what he’d done, intruded on her life.

“Lord Hades,” she said, and took her notebook out of her purse. She’d written down the names of every victim who had called New Athens News with a complaint. “Adonis and I are from New Athens News. We have been investigating several complaints about you and wondered if you might comment.”

He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped, but said nothing. Beside her, Adonis offered a nervous laugh. “Persephone is investigating,” he said. “I’m just…here for moral support.”

She glared at him. Coward.

“Is that a list of my offenses?” He asked. His eyes were dark and void of emotion. She wondered if this was how he welcomed souls into his world.

She ignored his question and read a few of the names on the list, after a moment, she looked up.

“Do you remember these people?”

He took a languid sip of his liquor. “I remember every soul.”

“And every bargain?”

His eyes narrowed and he studied her a moment before asking, “The point, Persephone. Get to the point. You’ve had no trouble of it in the past, why now?”

She felt Adonis look at her, and she glared at Hades, her face flush with anger. He made it sound like they’d known each other far longer than two days.

“You agree to offer mortals whatever they desire if they gamble with you and win.”

“Not all mortals and not all desires,” he said.

“Oh, forgive me, you are selective in the lives you destroy.”

His face hardened. “I do not destroy lives.”

“You only make the terms of your contract known after you’ve won! That is deception.”

“The terms are clear, the details are mine to determine. It is not deception, as you call it. It is a gamble.”

“You challenge their vice. You lay their darkest secrets bare—”

“I challenge what is destroying their life. It is their choice to conquer or succumb.”

She stared at him. He spoke so matter-of-fact, as if he’d had this conversation thousands of times.

“And how to do you know their vice?” she asked.

It was the answer she had been waiting for, and at the question, a wicked smile crossed Hades’ face. It transformed him, and hinted at the god beneath the glamour.

“I see to the soul,” he said. “What burdens it, what corrupts it, what destroys it—and challenge it.”

But what do you see when you look at me?

She hated to think he knew her secrets and she knew nothing about him.

And then she snapped.

“You are the worst sort of god!”

Hades flinched, but quickly recovered from his shock as it melted into anger.

“Persephone—” Adonis warned, but Hades warm baritone quickly drowned him out.

“I am helping these mortals,” he argued, taking a deliberate step toward her.

“How? By offering an impossible bargain? Abstain from addiction or lose your life? That’s absolutely ridiculous, Hades.”

“I have had success,” he argued.

“Oh? And what is your success? I suppose it doesn’t matter to you as you win either way, right? All souls come to you at some point.”

His gaze turns stony and he moved to close the distance between them, but before he could, Adonis stepped between the god and Persephone. Hades eyes ignited, and with a flick of his wrist, Adonis went limp and collapsed to the floor.

“What did you do?” She demanded, and started to reach for him, but Hades grabbed her wrists, keeping her on her feet and drawing her into him. She held her breath, not wanting to be this close, where she could feel his warmth and smell his scent. His breath caressed her lips as he spoke.

“I’m assuming you don’t want him to hear what I have to say to you—don’t worry, I won’t request a favor when I erase his memory.”

“Oh, how kind of you,” she mocked, craning her neck to meet his gaze. He was bent over her, his hold on her wrists the only thing keeping her from falling onto her back.

“What liberties you take with my favor, Lady Persephone.” His voice was low—too low for this kind of conversation. It was the voice of a lover—warm and impassioned.

“You never specified how I had to use your favor.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction.

“I didn’t, though I expected you to know better than to drag this mortal into my realm.”