A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(77)

She glanced to her left, finding Athena’s passive, golden face, her mother’s empty throne, and then Apollo and Artemis. Apollo inclined his head a fraction. It was the only acknowledgement she received—there was no light in his eyes or tilt to his lips. She tried to not let his mood disrupt her as she looked to her right where she found Poseidon staring openly and hungrily. Then Hermes, Hestia, and Ares.

Hermes smiled, his eyes gentle.

“You have caused a lot of problems,” Zeus said, drawing her reluctant attention. She met his lack-luster gaze.

“I think you mean my mother has caused a lot of problems,” she said. “And yet you seem intent upon punishing Hades.”

“I merely seek to solve a problem in the simplest way possible.”

“That might be true if Demeter were only responsible for a storm,” Persephone said. “But I have reason to believe she is working with the demi-gods.”

There was a beat of silence. “What reasons?”

“I was there the night Tyche died,” Persephone said. “My mother was there. I felt her magic.”

“Perhaps she was there to retrieve you,” Hera suggested. “As is her right by Divine Law. She is your mother.”

“Since we are basing our decisions on archaic laws, then I must disagree,” Persephone said.

Hera’s gaze hardened and Persephone got the distinct impression she did not like being challenged.

“On what grounds?”

“Hades and I fuck,” Persephone stated. “By Divine Law, we are married.”

Hermes choked on a laugh, but everyone else remained quiet. She looked to Zeus. As much as she hated it, he was the one she needed to convince.

“It was my mother’s magic that kept Tyche restrained.” Persephone said.

The god stared at her for a beat and then looked to Hermes for confirmation.

“Is this true, Hermes?”

Her fingers curled into fists.

“Persephone would never lie,” he replied.

“Triad is a true enemy,” Persephone said. “You have reason to fear them.”

There were a few laughs, and Persephone glared around her. “Did you not just hear what I said?”

“Harmonia and Tyche are goddesses, yes, but they are not Olympians,” said Poseidon.

“I’m sure the Titans thought the same of you,” she shot back. “Besides, Demeter is an Olympian.”

“She would not be the first who attempted—and failed—to overthrow me,” Zeus said, and she noted how he glanced both to his left and right. Despite how the Olympians sat—in this circle, unified, they were divided. There was hatred here and it permeated the air like smog.

“This is different,” Persephone said. “You have a world ready to shift their alliance to a group of people they believe are more mortal than god and my mother’s storm will force the decision.”

“So we return to the real issue,” Hera said. “You.”

Persephone glared; her jaw tightened.

“If you return me to my mother, I will become a real issue,” Persephone said. “I will be the reason for your misery, for your despair, for your ruination. I promise you will taste my venom.”

No one laughed. No one spoke. There was only silence. She glanced at Hades whose gaze burned into hers. She did not sense that he was disappointed with her, but he was on edge. Poised. Ready to act if necessary.

“You speak on what we will not do,” Zeus said. “But what would you have us do? When the world suffers beneath a storm of your mother’s creation?”

“Were you not ready to watch the world suffer minutes ago?” Persephone countered. It was not what she wished for, of course. It was the last thing she wanted, but she felt as though these gods were seconds away from sending her back to her mother, and Persephone would not go. She would have Hades. She would have the world—one way or the other.

“Are you suggesting we allow it to continue?” Hestia asked.

“I’m suggesting you punish the source of the storm,” she said.

“You forget. No one has been able to locate Demeter.”

“Is there no god here who is all-seeing?”

There was laughter.

“You speak of Helios,” said Artemis. “He will not help us. He will not help you because you love Hades and Hades stole his cattle.”

Still, she stared at Zeus despite the other replies.

“Are you not King of Gods? Is Helios not here by your grace?”

“Helios is the God of the Sun,” Hera said. “His role is important—more important than a minor goddess’ obsessive love.”

“If he were so great, could he not melt the snowstorm that ravages the earth?”

“Enough!” Zeus’s voice echoed in the chamber; his eyes gleaming as they fell upon her. Persephone felt her insides shake. She did not like Zeus’s gaze, did not like whatever thoughts were churning inside his head. Still, when he spoke, she was pleased by his words.

“You have given us much to consider, goddess. We will search for Demeter—all of us. If she is in league with Triad, let her admit it and face punishment. Until that point, however, I will defer judgment on your wedding to Hades a little while longer.”

Hera glared at her husband, clearly unsatisfied with this choice.