“Because she has vented to half the staff about it,” Hecate said. “Though, it has not had the effect she desired.”
“What does that mean?”
“She hoped they would be just as affronted, but I think the staff are hopeful.”
“Hopeful?”
“They want Persephone much as you do, Hades,” Hecate said, a little mischievously.
“Hmm,” Hades grunted. It was true that he wanted her, but after the article she had written, he was not certain she wanted him, or ever would. Still, he knew she had made an impression on his souls. After she watered her garden, she spent hours with them. She had learned many of their names and spent time with them, going for walks or taking tea, even cleaning. She played with the children and brought them gifts, even his dogs tended to follow her, even if he promised playtime.
She had won their favor in no time, and he had yet to win hers.
Hades focused on the smell of Poseidon’s magic—salt and sand and hot sun—as his brother appeared before them. He was fully dressed this time in a pink suit with black lapels and a white pocket square. Despite using a mortal glamour, he had kept his crown, the gold spires losing their luster amid his honeyed hair. Hades wondered if he wore it as a show of power, to remind him that they were in his territory.
“I see you brought your witch,” Poseidon said, aqua eyes sliding to Hecate.
It was not Hecate Poseidon disliked, so much as her relationship with Zeus. Hecate, on the other hand, hated Poseidon merely for being arrogant. As soon as the god spoke, Hecate’s eyes narrowed, and the leg of his’s trousers caught fire.
“Motherfucker!” he roared as he hopped about, trying to put out Hecate’s mystic fire.
Hades smirked at his brother’s pain.
“Hecate is far older than us, Poseidon,” Hades called over his brother’s screams. “We must respect our elders.”
“Careful, Hades. I am not above setting you aflame,” the Goddess of Magic replied.
“And I am not above incinerating your nightshade.”
They smiled at each other.
“If you two are finished flirting,” Poseidon shouted. “I should remind you that my fucking leg is on fire!”
“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.” Hecate’s eyes flashed as she returned her gaze to Poseidon, which caused the god to go still. Whatever he saw in her eyes caused him more fear than the fire claiming his leg. Finally, she dismissed the magic. Poseidon brushed at his pant leg, hands shaking as he assessed the damage. The cloth was blackened and curled, parts of it melted into his bubbling skin. He glared at Hecate, and she shrugged a shoulder.
“You called me a witch,” she said.
“You are a witch,” Hades reminded her.
“It was the way he said it, like it was an insult. Perhaps next time, he’ll remember the power behind the word.”
Poseidon straightened, fists curled at his sides. Hades sensed his rage churning beneath the surface, fierce like a deadly storm. He was not sure what the god intended to do next. Perhaps he wished to war with Hecate, which would spell disaster for him, his business, and the goal of this meeting.
“Where is the mortal?” Hades asked.
Poseidon’s eyes shifted to his, and Hades felt his hate. Usually, his brother’s intense emotion left him smiling, but today, he felt dread. Poseidon had a number of reasons to fuck this up. Favor or not, Hades had embarrassed him in front of his people and his wife, and while Poseidon had earned Hecate’s wrath, there was only so much the God of the Sea would endure before he took his revenge. Everyone had a breaking point, and Poseidon had done well to stay composed this long. He wondered what sort of magic Amphitrite had worked upon him.
“He will arrive soon.” Poseidon indicted to a watchtower that overlooked his shipyard. “Wait there.”
The two did as he instructed and teleported to the lookout. The box was small, and Hades and Hecate stood shoulder to shoulder as they peered out over the yard. This particular security station overlooked the entrance and the main office. In the distance, a series of lights illuminated hundreds of ships in various states of construction. Hades thought the view was beautiful in its own way.
“He is even more unpleasant than I remember,” Hecate muttered.
“You know he can hear you?” Hades reminded her.
“I hope so.”
Hades smirked, and then his gaze shifted to the entrance of the shipyard. Something rippled in the air—magic, but not Poseidon’s or Hecate’s. He tensed and saw