“What is there to embrace?” she asked and did not meet his gaze. “I’m an unknown goddess at best, and a minor one at that.”
Hades frowned; those beliefs were the bars that kept her true nature caged.
“If that is how you think of yourself, you will never know your power.”
Hades had nothing more to say. He had a nymph to interrogate, energy to expend, and Persephone had made it clear she wished to leave. He started to gather his magic and teleport to Nevernight, when her sharp command stopped him.
“Don’t. You asked that I not leave when I’m angry, and I’m asking you not to send me away when you’re angry.”
He dropped his hand. “I am not angry.”
“Then why did you drop me in the Underworld earlier?” she asked. “Why send me away at all?”
“I needed to speak with Hermes,” he said.
“And you couldn’t say that?”
He hesitated.
“Don’t request things of me you cannot deliver yourself, Hades.”
He stared at her. Her line of questioning helped him understand a few things about her. He had hurt her feelings when he dropped her in the Underworld earlier. She felt ignored and discarded.
We are equals, she’d said on their second encounter. When she had come to ask that his mark be removed. She was making the same plea now.
After a moment, he nodded. “I will grant you that courtesy.”
She exhaled, and Hades wondered if she had expected him to say no. The thought made his chest tighten.
“Thank you.”
Her words relaxed him, and he extended his hand. “Come, we can return to Nevernight together. I have…unfinished business there.”
She shifted the books in her arms and took his hand, and they returned to his office. Her gaze fell on the mirror over the fireplace and then wandered to his.
“How did you know we were in there? Hermes said we couldn’t be seen.”
“I knew you were here, because I could feel you.”
She shivered visibly and withdrew her hand from his. Hades mourned the absence of her warmth. She picked up her backpack where she had left it and heaved it onto her shoulder. On the way out the door, she paused and glanced back. She looked so young, so beautiful, framed by his gilded doors, and he wondered what the fuck he was doing.
“You said the map is only visible to those you trust. What does it take to gain the trust of the God of the Dead?”
“Time.”
***
Hades saw Persephone out, despite her protests. He knew she feared being seen with him, and really, he could not blame her. The media was ruthless and obsessive, and they tracked gods like prey, hoping for a shot that would perpetuate sensationalism and gossip. Some of his fellow Olympians loved the attention, but Hades had made it a goal to avoid them completely, going so far as to post guards up and down his street, on roofs, and in buildings around his club to keep his privacy.
“Antoni will take you home,” Hades said, having already summoned the cyclops. He stood outside Hades’ black Lexus. He expected Persephone to protest, but she looked up at him, a gentle expression on her face.
“Thank you.”
She climbed into the back of the car, meeting his gaze through the window as Antoni closed the door.
Watching her leave felt different this time, like they had found common ground. Like they were closer to understanding one another…and he felt hopeful.
As soon as his car was out of sight, Ilias approached, handing him a file he had created on the dryad who had followed Persephone into his club. He glanced over the content and handed it back to the satyr.
“Thank you, Ilias,” he said and vanished, appearing in the small room where the dryad had been held. She screamed when she saw Hades and shrunk against the wall, shaking.
“Rosalva Lykaios. Assistant to Demeter. Funny that your résumé does not also include spy.”
She spoke softly, voice quaking. “P-Please, my lord—”
“I will be brief,” he said, cutting her off. “You have two choices before you. Either you lie to your mistress and tell her Persephone was not here tonight, or you tell the truth.”
He moved toward her as he spoke, and the girl cowered.
“If the first, you risk the wrath of Demeter,” he said. “If the second, you risk my wrath.”
“You are asking me to do the impossible.”
“No,” he said. “I am asking you, which of us do you fear more?”