know what I would do. Going up against someone who is arguably the most powerful person in Carver City over something he did over a decade ago would have been a terrible decision. There’s nothing to gain and far too much to lose.
That doesn’t change the fact that my hand is itching to wrap around his throat at the thought of him taking advantage of a scared and vulnerable thirteen-year-old Aurora. “How did you even find him at that age?”
“You know better. Some people don’t get a childhood, Malone. I’ve known who Hades was and what he is to this city since I was a kid.”
“You were a kid when you made that bargain.” Which just leads me right back to where we started. “What would drive a teenager to seek out Hades in the Underworld to make a deal?” What would cause Hades to accept it? But then, Hades might cover it up well enough, but he has a bleeding heart. For every ruthless bargain he makes, there is another one or two behind the scenes that help some unfortunate individual who has nothing to offer. Obviously, Aurora was one of those, but that still doesn’t explain how she found her way to him.
She looks away. “I needed money to keep someone I care about safe.”
Impossible to look at that situation and not feel like Hades took advantage. “So he gave a teenager a bunch of money in exchange for nine years of your life. Hardly seems like a fair deal.”
“Yes, well, not all of us have such a privilege that we can walk in and take what we want without an issue.” She spears a grape tomato and eats it.
This is getting me nowhere. If anything, it’s making me feel worse instead of better. Why do I care about the terms of Aurora’s deal? She made it. She’s obviously not broken beyond repair as a result. I know enough of how the background of the Underworld works to know that Hades doesn’t require anyone to engage in the sex work. He simply offers the option if they want it. Most do, and why not?
It still bothers me.
“Surely your parents weren’t willing to let you make that sacrifice on your own?” Amazons might not shelter our children from the ugliness of the world, but we certainly don’t sit back and let them make deals with the devil.
“My father died when I was a baby.” She picks at her salad. “My mother also died. I lived with my grandmother, and she wasn’t aware of the deal.”
“It sounds like she should have kept better track of you.”
Aurora cuts me a look. “She did the best she could. She never expected to be saddled with a grandchild, let alone for it to be a permanent thing. She tried her best, but our resources were limited.”
Their resources were limited. I study her. There are all sorts of reasons people make deals with Hades. Protection. Ambition. Escape. Money. What could a thirteen-year-old Aurora want so desperately that she was willing to walk into the Underworld and bargain with Hades himself? It can’t be the former three. He wouldn’t have sent her back into her grandmother’s home for eight years if that was the case. “How much money could one child possibly need that would inspire you to go to that lengths?”
Aurora finally meets and holds my gaze. “It’s none of your business, Malone. The terms of my deal are between me and Hades and we’ve both fulfilled our ends of the bargain. It’s finished. There are no dragons to fight and even if there were, do you really think that I would ask you for help?”
That stings far more than it has right to. She has no reason to trust me, and every reason not to. Despite my feelings about her bargain, it’s obvious she hasn’t come out the worse for it. “Was it worth the price?”
“Of course. Or at least I think so.” Finally she drops her gaze, her expression closing down. “But ask me again in a year. I lost someone recently, and I’m not handling it well. I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
The sorrow in her tone speaks of the truth, just like it warns me off pursuing this conversation further. It doesn’t make me want to stop pressing her, but I understand all too well how far a person will go to escape the claws of grief. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
She flinches as if I’ve struck her.
I know she