A Touch of Malice (Hades x Persephone #3)(53)

“What was Theseus doing in your office today?” she asked, suddenly curious. When she’d arrived, whatever conversation they’d been having hadn’t seemed to be going well based on the tension in the room.

“Trying to convince me he had nothing to do with your assault and the attack on Adonis or Harmonia.”

“And did he?”

“I could not detect a lie,” Hades admitted.

“But you still think he was responsible?”

A ghost of a smile touched his lips, like he was proud she could read him so well.

“I think his inaction makes him responsible,” Hades said. “By now he must know the names of her attackers and yet he refused to divulge them.”

“Don’t you have methods for extracting information?” She asked, arching a brow.

Hades chuckled. “Eager for blood, darling?”

She frowned. “I just don’t understand what power he has to keep that information.”

“The same kind of power any man has with a following,” Hades replied. “Hubris.”

“Is that not a punishable offense in the eyes of a god?”

“Trust darling, by the time Theseus comes to the Underworld, it will be I who escorts him straight to Tartarus.”



CHAPTER XV – BECOMING POWER


The remainder of the week passed quickly with Persephone conducting her own research on Triad. She learned the organization had a faulty beginning, claiming that their leadership was decentralized. This led to several individuals conducting their own protests—some peaceful and others more violent. When Zeus had declared them a terrorist organization, and as a result, encouraging several Faithful mortals to seek and attack those associated with the group, they had temporarily disbanded only to reform a year later under new leadership.

That was five years ago.

Since then, there had been a few protests and more violent attacks, but Triad had never taken responsibly for those, claiming they were rogue Impious. Persephone thought back to what Hades had said about Theseus—that the leader of Triad claimed to have no involvement with Adonis’ murder and Harmonia’s attack. Could this be a case of the Impious striking out on their own with the help of Demeter?

She could not say, she only hoped it didn’t take another attack to find out.

It was Saturday before Persephone made it to Hecate’s cottage to train and she’d done so without Hades’ knowledge. He’d insisted she rest since sleep had evaded her most nights, but she knew after witnessing the horrible wreck that took so many lives in the Upperworld, training was a priority—plus, she had some questions for the ancient goddess.

When she arrived, Hecate was at work inside her cottage, wrapping dried herbs with twine—thyme, rosemary, sage, and tarragon. There were several bundles and the whole place smelled both sweet and bitter.

Persephone sat down to help, selecting stems from each pile before carefully tying the twine into a neat bow.

“What kinds of spells do you plan to cast with all this?” Persephone asked.

The corner of Hecate’s lip lifted.

“None—these herbs are for cooking.”

“Since when?” Persephone asked, but her question almost sounded like an accusation. She had never witnessed the goddess cook anything put poisons.

“I grow all kinds of herbs,” Hecate said. “Some for my spells, some for Milan and some for recreation.”

Persephone arched a brow.

“Why does Milan need so much?”

“These herbs last for at least three years,” she said. “But I imagine he is preparing for the wedding feast.”

Persephone froze. She hadn’t even thought about food—and what about cake? Were these even things she should be thinking about given the events of the past week? She frowned, and tensions gathered between her brows.

“I did not mean to cause you stress,” Hecate said.

“You didn’t,” Persephone said and paused. “Hecate, you sided with the Olympians during Titanachamy, yes?”

“Why do you ask?”

Persephone flinched at the tone of her voice—it was cold, almost irate. Was this a topic the goddess preferred not to talk about?

Hecate continued wrapping bundles of herbs, eyes never leaving her task.

“I just…wondered why you did not side with the Titans,” Persephone said. “Since you are one of them.”

“Being one of them does not mean I agree with them,” she said, continuing to work, her hands moved fast. “Under the Titans, the world would not have evolved, and I believed the Olympians, though gods themselves, were far more human than the Titans.”

Persephone grimaced. “I do not think my mother’s reasons are so noble.”

“What do you mean?”

Persephone explained what Harmonia had told her—that she’d sensed Demeter’s magic in the park where she’d been attacked and her suspicions that she might be working with Triad—or rogue Impious.

She couldn’t get Harmonia’s words out of her head.

Warm like the sun on a spring afternoon, smelling of golden wheat and sweet, ripened fruit.

Demeter’s magic had been all over the weapon—the net—that had ensnared Harmonia. It made sense, why the goddess could not summon her magic to calm her attackers. Harmonia was a lesser god. Against Demeter, she had little chance of overpowering an ancient Olympian.