A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(30)

She let her hand fall and as she did, the beads of water froze in place.

“Persephone?”

She turned to find Sybil standing in the door of the office.

“Sybil,” she said, smiling. They hugged.

“Is it true? You will be working here?” Sybil asked.

“Hades has asked that I use this space as my office and I have to admit, I’m more than happy to accept.”

She would be safe here, but more importantly, Leuce and Helen would be safe.

“How are you?” Persephone asked. “Has Ben bothered you?”

Sybil gave her a dark look and huffed. “I am so sorry about him, Persephone. I didn’t know he was so…”

“Weird?”

“I think I’m going to have to change my number.”

“I would offer to threaten him—or have Hades do it—but he did not seem to fear the gods.”

“I think he is too self-centered to fear the gods,” she said.

“I’m sorry, Sybil.”

She shrugged. “That’s what I get for trying to rebound,” she joked. Still, Persephone frowned. She was referring to her short-lived relationship with Aro. The mortal had been a long-time friend of Sybil’s and it had seemed like a good match, but for whatever reason, Aro had just wanted to remain friends.

“I think I’m more upset that I will never be able to go into Four Olives again. That was one of my favorite lunch spots.”

“Guess there’s always delivery,” Persephone said.

“Yes, but he’s likely to show up with my order and I really do not want him to know where I work.”

“Based on his creep factor, I’d say he already knows where you work.”

Sybil offered Persephone a dull look. “Thanks, friend.”

She grinned. “Don’t worry, I don’t think he could get passed Ivy.”

Ivy was the receptionist for Alexandria Tower. She was a dryad—a woodland nymph. She was organized and regimented. No one went beyond her desk who was not invited.

“Let’s have lunch soon,” Sybil said, offering another hug before returning to work. Persephone wasn’t left alone long before Leuce and Helen arrived. Helen squealed at the news of their new office space, and the two ran around the floor in a flurry, checking out the offices, arguing over which desk they would take, and discussing decor. Persephone wandered into the first office on the left, shed her jacket, and pulled out her laptop.

As she sat, there was a knock at door. Looking up, she found Helen waiting in the doorway.

“Hey, did you have a chance to read my article?”

“Yes. Have a seat,” Persephone said.

“You didn’t like it,” Helen said immediately, stepping further into the office.

“It isn’t that, Helen. You have some valid points, but…this is a dangerous article.”

Helen’s brows knitted together. “How is it dangerous?”

“You comment on the gods,” Persephone said, and quoted, “In a world where mortals out number gods, should we be asking what the divine should do?”

“I am not asking for anything less than you did when you wrote about Hades,” Helen argued.

“Helen—”

“Fine. I’ll take the sentence out,” Helen said, her tone was clipped, her frustration obvious. It gave Persephone pause—she’d never witnessed this behavior from her before. In all the times she had worked with her at New Athens News and since launching The Advocate, she’d been cheerful and enthusiastic. Then again, Persephone had never critiqued her work before.

Despite her reaction, Persephone felt relieved that she’d agreed to delete her commentary on the gods.

“I also want you to find someone in Triad’s leadership to interview.”

Helen’s lips flattened. “You don’t think I tried? No one returned my emails. These people don’t want to be known.”

“Email isn’t the only way to track down a source, Helen. If you want it bad enough, you’ll do the footwork.”

Helen’s blue eyes sparked. “And how do you suggest tracking down the secret leadership of a terrorist organization?”

Persephone shrugged a shoulder. “I’d pretend I was one of them.”

“You want me to pretend I’m a member of Triad?”

“You want to break a story? You want to be the first to reveal the higher ranks of New Greece’s most dangerous terrorist organization? This is what it will take. In the end, it’s entirely up to you— what do you want?”

Helen was silent, staring at Persephone. After a long moment, she asked, “And what if they find out what I’m doing?”

Persephone stiffened, but answered. “I can protect you.”

“You mean Hades can.”

“No,” she said. “I mean that I will protect you.”

Helen left and Persephone’s shoulders sagged. Why had her conversation with Helen feel like a standoff? She definitely expected Helen to be a little more receptive to her feedback and the fact that she hadn’t was surprising. It felt contrary to the person she thought Helen was—but perhaps she didn’t know the girl at all.

All of a sudden, magic curled around her, straightening her spine, and the familiar scent of laurel permeated the air.