A Touch of Malice (Hades x Persephone #3)(84)

“Come,” he said, slipping his fingers between hers and drawing her to her feet.

Her brows drew together. “Where are we going?”

“I just wanted to kiss you,” he said, bringing his mouth to hers. His magic surfaced, and she felt the familiar pull of teleportation. When they drew apart, they stood in the middle of a clearing in the Upperworld. It was covered in snow and surrounded by thick trees, bent with ice. Still, it was beautiful. When she turned, she found a building—Halcyon. It was still under construction, just a skeleton of the structure it would become, but it was clear it would be magnificent.

“Oh,” Persephone breathed.

“I cannot wait for you to see it in the Spring,” he said. “You will love the gardens.”

“I love it all,” she said. “I love it now.”

She looked at Hades then, at the snow in his hair and on his lashes.

“I love you.”

Hades kissed her before guiding her through the labyrinth that would be Halcyon. The walls were up, the drywall in place. He named each room as if he knew the layout by heart—reception and dining, community and residents’ rooms, and spaces for various types of therapy. Finally, they came to a space on the top floor, after climbing several sets of stairs. It was a large room that overlooked the garden that would be dedicated to Lexa. In the distance, all the way around the room, Persephone could see the misty skyline of New Athens.

It was breathtaking.

“What room is this?” she asked.

“Your office,” Hades said.

“Mine? But I—”

“I have an office at every business I own, why shouldn’t you?” he said. “And even if you do not work here often, we’ll put it to use.”

Persephone laughed, and Hades smiled in return. They stared at one another for a moment. There was a tension between them she wanted to mend—it did not come from their anger or their distance, but from something far more primal. She felt it within her—a pull tied so deep, it made her bones ache.

She shivered.

“We should return,” Hades said.

Still neither of them moved.

“Hades,” Persephone whispered his name, an invitation. In the next second, their mouths collided. Hades pressed into her, his erection hard between her hips as she hit the wall. His hands curled around her wrists as he pinned them beside her head.

“I need you,” he breathed, kissing down her jaw and neck. His hands moved, fingers pressing firmly into her ass, bunching her skirt. Persephone’s breath came fast, fingers fumbling for the buttons of his shirt. She wanted to feel the heat of his skin against hers.

“Stop that!”

Apollo appeared only a few feet away. He looked annoyed, as if he were the one who was interrupted. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a white tunic-style shirt that had a laced V-neck. His curls were unruly and fell playfully against his forehead.

“Go away, Apollo,” Hades growled, still working his way down Persephone’s neck to her collarbone.

“Hades,” her fingers tightened around the lapels of his jacket.

“No-can-do, Lord of the Underworld,” Apollo said. “We have an event.”

Hades sighed—which sounded more like a growl—and pried himself from Persephone. She worked to catch her breath and straightened her skirt and blouse.

“What do you mean we have an event?” she asked.

“Today’s the first of the Panhellenic Games,” he said.

She’d completely forgotten about the games. The chariot races were tonight.

“That isn’t until tonight,” she argued.

“So? I need you now.”

“For what?”

“Does it matter?” He asked. “We have a—”

“Don’t.” Hades snapped, and Apollo shut his mouth. “She asked you a question, Apollo. Answer it.”

Persephone looked at Hades, surprised by his comment.

The god narrowed his violet eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “I fucked up. I need your help,” he admitted, glaring away from them.

“You needed help and yet you wish to command it from her?”

“Hades—”

“He demands your attention, Persephone, has your friendship only because of a bargain and when you needed him before all those Olympians, he was silent.”

“That’s enough, Hades,” Persephone said.

She did not fault Apollo for not speaking up at Council—what was there to say?

“Apollo is my friend, bargain or not. I will speak to him about what bothers me.”

Hades stared at her for a moment and then kissed her again—deeply and far longer than appropriate with an audience. When he pulled away, he said, “I will join you at the games later.”

When he vanished, she turned to Apollo.

“He really doesn’t like you.”

He rolled his eyes.

“That’s nothing new. Come on, I need a drink.”



CHAPTER XXIII – A LOVER’S QUARREL


“Vodka?” Apollo asked as he poured himself a glass. He stood on the other side of the island in his pristine kitchen. Persephone had only been to Apollo’s penthouse once, when she was helping Sybil move. It was a modern space with large windows and a monochrome color scheme. If she didn’t know how regimented Apollo was, she’d assume no one lived here, but the god was known for discipline and that extended to his surroundings. He kept everything perfectly organized and clean—even his stainless-steel appliances were unmarred, a feat that deserved an award.