A Touch of Malice (Hades x Persephone #3)(86)

“The last time I chased someone they begged to be turned into a tree.”

“This is different!” Persephone said, frustrated. She paused a moment and then sighed. “Did Ajax kiss you back?”

A pink tint made its way to Apollo’s cheeks, and Persephone had to bite her cheek to keep from giggling. It was strange to see the egotistical God of Music embarrassed.

“Yes, he kissed me back which is why I don’t understand…how…how could he not want me?”

“He didn’t say he didn’t want you. He said he couldn’t do this which could have meant anything. It could have meant I can’t do this right now. You don’t know until you asked.”

“Well now I can’t ask because I kissed Hector.”

“That’s exactly why you need to talk to him!” Persephone argued. “Would you have Ajax think you do not care for him?”

“Why should I care what he thinks?”

She recognized his response as a defense mechanism—anytime something didn’t go his way, he immediately decided it wasn’t worth his time or energy.

“Apollo, you are an idiot.”

He glared. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“If you’re looking for someone to praise your every decision, turn to your worshippers. Friends tell you the truth.”

He didn’t look at her, choosing instead to glare at the wall, so she continued.

“Talk to Ajax, Apollo, and Hector.”

“Hector? Why?”

“Because you owe him an explanation, too,” she said. “You kissed him which means now he has reason to believe there’s more between you than before.”

The god frowned and after a moment, he mumbled, “I said I’d never do this again.”

“You cannot help how you feel.”

“I knew better,” he argued. “I am not good for anyone, Seph.”

She sat there, shaking her head, feeling defeated for him.

“Hyacinth didn’t think that,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’m betting Ajax doesn’t, either.”

The God of Music scoffed. “What do you know? You’re only here because of a bargain and you’re only in that bargain because you refused to communicate with Hades.”

Persephone’s lips flattened and her chest ached at Apollo’s words. She knew that well enough—she was reminded of it often—every time she wanted to call and talk to Lexa or go to lunch with her best friend, every time she entered Elysium. She managed to blink enough to keep her tears at bay and cleared her throat.

“A decision I will regret for the rest of my life.”

She gave no clarification before she vanished from Apollo’s sight.



CHAPTER XXIV – THE CHARIOT RACES


Persephone arrived at Talaria Stadium with Sybil, Leuce, and Zofie. From the outside, the arena looked more like a marble building with stacked columns and archways of reflective windows. On a normal July day, they would mirror the beauty of the setting sun. Instead, they were packed with ice. Despite the weather, people were everywhere, making their way through the snow toward one of many entrances around the stadium.

“It says here there are eight heroes competing,” said Leuce, looking at her phone. The glow made her white eyes spark. “Three women and four men.”

“There should be more women,” Zofie said, who sat beside Leuce and still towered over them. “We handle pain far better.”

They laughed.

“Does Hades have a hero in the games, Persephone?” Sybil asked. Her hair was pulled back into a curled ponytail and she’d changed into something a little less formal after work, now sporting jeans and a pink New Athens University hoodie.

“Not that I’m aware,” Persephone said. Hades had never chosen a hero—not in the games and not in battle—though, he had resurrected them.

“Chariot races were never my favorite,” Leuce said, wrinkling her nose. She was probably recalling something from her life in the ancient world.

“Why?” Persephone asked.

“Because they’re bloody. Why do you think they begin the Games with them?”

“To weed out competitors,” Zofie said, a menacing gleam in her eyes.

That filled Persephone with a sense of dread, and she worried for the competitors, in particular Ajax. She knew he was skilled, but if anything happened to him, Apollo would be devastated.

“Do not worry,” Sybil said. “They train for this.”

“Training means nothing when it comes to animals,” said Zofie.

Antoni pulled around to the back of the stadium and parked at a private entrance where only a handful of people lingered. They left the comfort of the limo and stepped into the chill evening. Persephone had chosen to wear a white dress, a black blazer, and thick black stockings. Still, the wind cut through them. Once inside, they were led into an elevator, to the top floor, where they were taken to a private suite. It was a modern, monochrome space with a bar, black leather couches, and large televisions on display in every corner of the room that played footage from previous games and interviews with heroes. A platform of seats were positioned near a large floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the arena which looked exactly like the practice area at the Palestra of Delphi.