A Touch of Malice (Hades x Persephone #3)(62)

“Yes! And the answer is always why? Why should we suffer illness and disease and death when the gods exist in perpetual health and immortality?”

Persephone did not have an answer for that because even she did not know, except that, after losing Lexa, she had to believe that every fiber woven into the tapestry of the world served a greater purpose. Perhaps it was that sometimes a friend must die for a goddess to rise.

She stared at Helen, wondering what had lured her to the side of Triad so quickly.

“Seriously, Persephone. I thought you would understand after what happened to Lexa.”

“Do not say her name,” Persephone said, her voice shaking.

“If given the chance, would you not have had her live forever?”

“What I want does not matter. You speak of things you know nothing of. It is one thing to proclaim the gods should be held accountable for their actions—that, certainly, is true. It is another thing to actively disturb the balance of the world.”

And Persephone had learned the consequences of those actions the hard way.

Helen rolled her eyes. “You have been brainwashed—too much time spent on Hades’ dick.”

“That is not appropriate,” Persephone snapped and stood. “If this is the intended direction of your article, I will not approve it for publication.”

Helen lifted her chin, defiance flashed in her eyes.

“You don’t have to,” she said, a smug tone in her voice. “I’ll take it to Demetri.”

“Do it,” she said. “But you will regret it.”

“Is that a threat?” Helen asked.

“That depends,” Persephone said. “Are you afraid?”

She noted the doubt that flashed in Helene’s eyes. Persephone picked up her phone and chose Ivy’s direct line.

“Lady Persephone?”

“Ivy. Please summon Zofie.”

As she hung up, Helen spoke.

“You’re afraid. Afraid you’ll lose your status when Hades falls.”

Persephone placed her hands flat on the table and leaned forward, ensuring that the glamour that kept the true fire of her eyes hidden melted away as she leveled her gaze with Helen’s.

“Now that felt like a threat,” Persephone said, her voice quiet. “Was it a threat?”

Helen’s eyes went wide and before the mortal could speak, there was a knock at the door. Neither of them moved, both held in place by the tension in the room. Persephone recognized it as her magic—it made the air feel heavy and electric.

Another knock and the door opened. Zofie stood in the threshold, her dark hair in her usual braid. She was dressed in a black tunic, pants, and boots. She looked unassuming, not at all the warrior she was raised to be.

“My lady, you needed my assistance?”

“Yes, Zofie. Please escort Helen from the premises. She is to speak to no one as she leaves the building.”

“I need to pack my office,” Helen argued.

Persephone didn’t look at her, keeping her gaze on her Aegis.

“Zofie, see that Helen only collects her personal belongings from her office.”

“As you wish, my lady,” she said, bowing her head. She turned to Helen. “Go.”

Helen took a step toward the door but turned back to Persephone.

“A new era is coming, Persephone. I thought you were smart enough to be at the forefront. I guess I was wrong.”

Without warning, Zofie pushed Helen out the door, causing her to stumble forward. The mortal caught herself before spinning to face Zofie.

“How dare you!” Helen snarled.

Zofie drew a dagger from a hidden sheath beneath her tunic. It glinted beneath the florescent lights in the waiting area.

“Lady Persephone didn’t say you had to leave the building walking. Go.”

When they were gone, Persephone collapsed into her chair, feeling exhausted. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around the conversation she’d just had with Helen. She definitely had not expected her to change her perspective on Triad after such a short investigation. Then again, she did not know much about Helen outside of her work ethic which had always appeared dedicated and enthusiastic.

And those qualities she hadn’t lost but applied elsewhere.

Perhaps there was something else at work that Persephone could not see, something in Helen’s personal life that made siding with Triad the better option.

Feeling frustrated, Persephone left her floor for Hades’ office. When she arrived, it was empty, and everything looked untouched. The desk was clear except for a vase of white narcissus and a picture frame. The narcissus were refreshed daily by Ivy, who, being a dryad, had a special talent for keeping flowers alive longer than usual.

Even in his absence, being in a space that smelled like him calmed her nerves, so she lingered, walking to the window to stare out at the wintery day. Below, she saw Helen waiting on the icy sidewalk, her arms were crossed tightly over her chest as she shivered noticeably. After a moment, a black limo arrived.

Persephone’s brows lowered, wondering who’d sent it for her. Helen usually took public transportation to and from work. Perhaps she was more tangled in Triad that she thought. The driver was no help. He left the comfort of his cabin dressed in a suit and no identifying markings. He opened her door and she slide inside before the vehicle crept down the road.