A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(26)

She narrowed her gaze upon Hades.

“You are not the Goddess of Divine Retribution, Aphrodite,” Hades replied.

“Then promise me you will send Nemesis to enact my revenge.”

“I will make no such promise,” Hades said simply.

They were getting nowhere—and then Hephaestus spoke.

“Whoever hurt the mortal and Harmonia has an agenda,” he said. “Harming those who assaulted them will not lead us to the greater purpose. You might also, inadvertently, prove their cause.”

Aphrodite glared, her eyes flashing with something that looked more like hurt than anger.

“If that’s the case, I can see the value of Persephone investigating Harmonia’s assault. She fits in— as a mortal and a journalist. Given her record of slander against gods, they may even think they can trust her, or at least, turn her to their cause. In either case, it would be a better way to understand our enemy, make a plan, and act.”

It was Hades turn to glare at him, but Hephaestus’ words made her hopeful and she turned to Hades.

“I would do nothing without your knowledge,” Persephone assured Hades. “And I will have Zofie.”

Hades stared at her for a long moment. He was stiff, everything in him hated this, but then he answered, “We will discuss the terms.”

Persephone preened—that wasn’t a no.

He continued, “But for now, you need rest.”

She felt his magic rising to teleport, adding before they vanished, “Summon us once Harmonia wakes.”



***

When they appeared in the Underworld, they faced each other. A long silence stretched where neither of them said a word. Persephone didn’t think it was because they lacked anything to say, but because they were both exhausted, and the weight of having to see Harmonia—one of their own— beaten near death, was heavy. Persephone did not know whether she should scream or sob or collapse.

“You will keep me informed of every step you take, every bit of information you glean on this case.

You will teleport to work. If you leave for any reason, I have to know. You will take Zofie everywhere,” as he spoke, he closed the gap between them. “And Persephone, if I say no...”

He did not finish the sentence because he didn’t need to. She knew what he meant.

If he said no, he meant it, and she knew if she disobeyed, there would be no coming back so she nodded.

“Okay.”

He let out a breath and secured his hand behind her neck, pressing their foreheads together.

“If anything happened to you—”

“Hades,” she whispered, wrapping her hands around his wrists. She wanted to meet his gaze, but he wouldn’t release his hold on her neck. Still, she spoke. “I’m here. I am safe. You will not let anything happen to me.”

“But I did,” he answered.

Without explaining, she knew he was talking about Pirithous.

“Hades—”

“I do not wish to discuss it,” he said, and released her, taking a step back. Apparently, he didn’t wish to touch her, either. “You need rest.”

She watched him for a moment, that same strange silence stretching between them. She didn’t like it and she wanted to call him out on it, but she also didn’t want to push him. He’d already said he didn’t wish to talk, and he was right—she was tired.

She retreated to the bathroom where she showered. She needed the privacy, the heat, the mindless noise of the water pounding against the tile. She focused on these things as long as she could, avoiding thinking about Adonis, Harmonia, and Aphrodite.

Had it only been hours since they had been in the kitchen together? They’d been on the cusp of making love on every surface. She could still feel the emptiness Hades had carved inside her. Twice he had taken her today and twice he had stopped, albeit not by choice. She was wound tight and needy, though it seemed selfish to ask for sex given tonight’s events.

Even so, he’d all but rejected her earlier—both her words and her body.

It was as if he wanted no part of her tonight.

Even knowing that wasn’t true, an ache still formed in her chest at the thought, and she sat on the floor of the shower, knees drawn to her chest until the water ran cold.

Rising from the shower, she changed into a billowy shirt and returned to the bedroom where she found Hades standing before the fire, still clothed.

She frowned.

“Are you coming to bed?”

He turned toward her and sat his drink aside before approaching. He took her face between his hands as he spoke.

“I will join you shortly.”

He stared at her for a moment, and when he leaned forward, she parted her mouth, anticipating his kiss—except he pressed his lips to her forehead.

A mix of emotions flooded her—disappointment and embarrassment warred. What was going on in Hades’ head? Whatever it was, it felt like he was punishing her. She stared at him, swallowing what she wanted to say—the accusations she wanted to throw—and whispered good night before crawling beneath the cool covers, too tired to think long about Hades’ avoidant kiss and fell into a deep sleep.



***

She woke later to find Hades sitting on the bed, his bare back to her, feet planted on the floor.

Well, she thought, he has made progress coming to bed, at least.