they strove to create in the world, and so he remained silent. Sisyphus pulled a metal case from the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a cigarette.
“I’ll tell you what.” He put the cigarette to his lips and lit it. The smell of nicotine filled the small shop—ashy, stale, and chemical. “I’ll donate one million, and I won’t violate the law of Xenia anymore.”
Hades paused a moment and used the silence to quell the rush of anger the mortal’s words ignited, his fingers curling into fists. Not so long ago, he would have let the fury overtake him, sending the mortal to Tartarus without a second thought. Instead, he let the darkness do the work for him. Outside Sisyphus’ office, Hades called to the shadows and they slithered across the exterior of the building, darkening the windows as they went.
Hades watched as Sisyphus turned, eyes following the shadows until they approached the two bodyguards at the front of the office. In the next second, they slipped into every orifice of their bodies and they collapsed, dead.
Sisyphus’ eyes returned to Hades’ and he grinned.
“On second thought, you have a deal, Lord Hades,” Sisyphus said. “Two hundred and fifty million it is.”
“Three,” Hades replied.
Defiance flashed in the mortal’s eyes. “That is more than half my income.”
“A punishment for wasting my time,” Hades said. He started to turn and leave the office before pausing. He looked over his shoulder at the mortal. “And I would not worry about breaking the law of Xenia, mortal. You don’t have much time left.”
Sisyphus was silent after Hades’ words. Ribbons of smoke danced from the cigarette poised between his fingers. After a moment, he put it out in his drink.
“Tell me something,” he said. “Why do it? Bargain and balance? Have you hope for humanity?”
“Have you none?” Hades countered.
“I live among mortals, Lord Hades. Trust me, when given the choice to tip the scale one way or the other, they’ll choose darkness. It’s the fastest path with the quickest benefit.”
“And the most to lose,” Hades said. “Do not educate me on the nature of mortals, Sisyphus. I have judged your kind for a millennium.”
Hades paused outside the door, looking down at the two men who lay at his feet. He did not revel in the idea of restoring them to life to spread violence and death themselves, but he knew the Fates would demand a sacrifice—a soul for a soul—and it was likely they would choose souls that were good and pure and innocent.
Balance, Hades thought, and he suddenly hated the word.
“Wake,” he commanded.
And as they inhaled sharp breaths, Hades vanished.
CHAPTER II – A GAME OF FATE
Hades appeared in his office at Nevernight, one of his most popular New Athens clubs. It was close to eleven, and at midnight, he would wander through the upstairs lounge, choosing mortals who longed to bargain for their greatest desires and wishes—health, love, and riches. Those were just the things he could grant. It did not include requests like creating life, returning life, or bestowing beauty—desires he would not award.
“You’re late.”
Minthe’s voice was like a whip, shattering his thoughts. He had sensed her the moment he entered the room—all fire and ice—and preferred to ignore her when she was like this.
He focused on adjusting his tie and cufflinks, silently relieved that he had chosen to use shadow magic to take Sisyphus’ bodyguards down, so he did not have to hear the nymph demand answers. With his appearance restored, he turned to the flaming-haired nymph. Her lips, a shade darker than her hair, were twisted into a pout. She did not like being ignored.
“How can I be late, Minthe, when I abide by no one’s schedule but my own?”
Minthe had been his assistant since the beginning of time, and she went through phases where she would try to exercise rights over him—rights to his time, to his realm, and to his body. Her eagerness for control was not lost on him. He recognized the trait in her because he possessed it himself.
“Tardiness is not attractive, Hades, even from a god,” she snapped.
A smile threatened his lips, but he remained composed. His amusement would only anger her further.
“While you were dallying,” Hades narrowed his eyes at the jab, “I’ve had to entertain your guests.”
Hades’ brows furrowed and dread crawled up the back of his throat. “Who is waiting for me?”
He knew by Minthe’s expression—the way her eyes narrowed, the slight curl of her mouth—that he would not like her answer.