Neon Gods (Dark Olympus #1)(64)

She turns to look at me. “This is like a secret world. Can we… Can we explore?” Her curiosity and joy are a balm to my soul that I never knew I craved.

“That’s what we’re here for.” Once again, I tug her back when she’d bolt into the crowd. “Food first. That’s my only stipulation.”

Persephone grins. “Yes, Sir.” She bounces onto her toes and kisses my cheek. “Take me to your favorite food place here.”

There it is again, the feeling of sharing parts of me with this woman that no one else gets to see. Of her appreciating and enjoying the bits of me that aren’t strictly Hades, ruler of the lower city, the shadow member of the Thirteen. In moments like this one, it’s as if she really sees me, and that’s intoxicating in the extreme.

We end up at a gyro stall, and I nod at Damien behind the counter. He grins at me. “Long time, no see.”

“Hey.” I nudge Persephone closer to the stall. “Damien, this is Persephone. Persephone, this is Damien. His family has been selling gyros in Olympus for, what is it? Three generations?”

“Five.” He laughs. “Though if you ask my uncle, it’s closer to ten, and on top of that, we can trace our lines back to Greece to some head cook who served Caesar himself.”

“I believe it.” I laugh just like he wants me to. We’ve had this exchange dozens of times, but he enjoys it so I’m more than happy to indulge him. “We’ll have two of the regular.”

“Coming right up.” It takes him a few moments to put the gyros together, and I allow myself to enjoy the way his smooth movements speak of years of practice. I still remember coming here as a teenager and watching Damien’s dad walk him through the process of taking an order and making the gyro, supervising his son with patience and love that I envied. They have a good relationship, and it was something I wanted to soak up peripherally, especially during those angsty teen years.

Damien holds up the gyros. “No charge.”

“You know better.” I pull cash out of my pocket and set it on the counter, ignoring his half-hearted protests. This, too, we do nearly every time I visit. I accept the gyros and hand one to Persephone. “This way.” I lead her around the edge of the warehouse to where a handful of tables and chairs have been set up and tucked back against the wall. There are several similar sitting areas scattered throughout the area so no matter where one buys food, they don’t have to walk far to find a place to sit and eat.

I glance over to find Persephone looking at me with a strange expression on her face. I frown. “What?”

“How often do you come down here?”

My skin prickles and I have the uncomfortable suspicion that I’m blushing. “Usually at least once a week.” When she just keeps staring, I have to fight not to shuffle my feet. “I find the chaos soothing.”

“That’s not the full reason.”

Once again, she’s entirely too perceptive. Strangely enough, I don’t mind elaborating. “This is just a small portion of the population in the lower city, but I like seeing people here going about their business. It’s normal.”

She unwraps her gyro. “Because they’re safe.”

“Yes.”

“Because you make them safe.” She takes a bite before I can respond and gives a downright sexual moan. “Gods, Hades. This is amazing.”

We eat in silence, and the sheer normality of this moment hits me right in the chest. For just a little while, Persephone and I could be two normal people moving through the world without the entirety of Olympus threatening to topple if we make a wrong move. This might be a first date or a third or one ten years down the road. I close my eyes and push that thought away. We aren’t normal and this isn’t a date, and at the end of our time together, Persephone will leave Olympus. In ten years, I might be in this very spot enjoying a gyro alone just like I have countless times in the past, but she’ll be somewhere far away, living the life she was always meant to.

One spent in the sunlight.

Her empty wrapper crinkles as she wads it up. She leans forward, expression intent. “Show me everything.”

“There’s no way we can see the whole thing tonight.” Before she can wilt, I press on. “But you can explore a little bit tonight and come back again every few days until you see everything you want to.”

The smile she gives me is so pure, it feels like she cracked open my sternum and wrapped her fist around my heart. “Promise?”

As if I’d deny her this simple pleasure. As if I’d deny her any pleasure. “I promise.”

We spend an hour wandering the stalls before I herd Persephone back to the entrance. During that time, she’s managed to charm every single person she meets, and we end up with an armful of bags filled with candy, a dress that caught her eye, and a trio of glass figurines for her sisters. I almost feel guilty for cutting her time short, but the wisdom of it becomes readily apparent as we walk back home. By the time we reach our block, Persephone is leaning on me.

“I’m not tired.”

I fight down a smile. “Sure.”

“I’m not. I’m just conserving energy.”

“Mm-hmm.” I lock the door behind us and consider her. “Then I suppose I should resist carrying you upstairs and putting you to bed.”