Sirenz - By Charlotte Bennardo Page 0,22

we should just toddle on down to the morgue, open a fridge door, and go to Tartarus ourselves. How could we ever do this assignment?

“Anyway,” Jeremy continued, “you’ll be playing a very important role. With our New Year’s Eve showing, it’s hectic. If someone needs something around here, you two are the ones to take care of it. If they need coffee, office supplies, TP, anything, you get it.” He stopped and looked from Shar to me. “Do you understand?”

I tried to crack a smile and forced myself to nod.

“Totally.” Shar answered. “We’re here to pamper and please.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Now, the pay isn’t exactly the greatest …”

Jeremy kept talking and walking, but I didn’t want to hear any more about our duties. There had to be some redeeming qualities to this place—other than his perfect face.

From where we were standing, I heard someone come in, then the barking of several dogs.

Jeremy raised his eyebrows and put a hand on each of our shoulders. “Here we go!” He ran his hand lightly down my arm and I felt my face get hot. Redeeming quality found—physical contact!

We returned to the lobby area to find Demi, the amazon receptionist who’d almost made toast out of us on our last visit, dressed down in jeans and a brilliant spring-green sweater. She had a voluminous, daffodil-yellow shawl draped across her broad shoulders, and she was holding leashes attached to three super-sized dogs. The largest one looked a little too much like a wolf. They sat calmly at her side panting happily as she bent over the only desk in the area and sorted through a stack of papers.

“Demi!” Jeremy called.

She turned around and smiled coyly at us. “I see our interns are here.” She checked her watch. “And early.”

“Told you they’d work out.” Jeremy grinned. “I’ll leave them in your capable hands. I’m sure you have some things they can start with? Or ask Callie or Reynaldo if they need help with anything.”

Demi reached down and patted the top of the wolf’s head. “Oh, most definitely.”

Jeremy turned and left, and the three of us stood there staring at each other. One of the dogs growled.

“So,” Shar began, breaking the silence. I didn’t like the way Demi was checking us out. “Um, you, uh, do a lot of … different things around here.”

“Really, Sharisse, you’re more dense than a petrified tree. Take those ridiculous things off. Lasik surgery indeed.”

Wait—how did she know about our little lie?

“And you, Margaret,” she said, turning to me. “Please, don’t bother to mince words. You won’t turn into a carrion bird talking to me.”

Shar took off her glasses. “Do you know Hades?” she whispered.

Demi glared at her. “Do not speak his name in my presence.”

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m someone who doesn’t like being robbed of what is most precious to me.”

“You’re from the same circles as Had—I mean, our mutual acquaintance?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Who are you?” Shar repeated, at a loss. I was stumped too. Demi knew about us, and she knew about Hades. Apparently she didn’t like him—that was something we had in common—but still, that told me nothing. Last night’s flip through The Encyclopedia of Myth revealed that he had a long list of enemies.

Demi took a long, slow deep breath, like she was at the end of her patience.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” Shar stammered. “But since you seem know about our situation, we’re … a little nervous. With all these myths and ancient histories popping to life in front of us, and everything.”

“Well said,” I muttered, and nodded my head.

“I’m Demeter.” She sighed. “Think you can figure it out now?”

Demeter … I thought hard. Demeter was Hades’ mother-in-law, and the goddess akin to Mother Nature. In her grief about having her daughter, Persephone, spend half the year in Tartarus, she made the earth hibernate each winter.

But what was she doing here, at the House of Romanov? Whatever the reason, it couldn’t be good—for us.

“I’ll make it a bit clearer for you,” Demi continued. “That repugnant pig you’re working for stole my baby. I’ve never been able to get her back. She deserves far better than him. Oh, my poor darling Persephone, spending half the year in that horrible place … down there!”

“I’m sorry,” Shar said. “But we have nothing to do with—”

Demeter waved at hand at us. “How could I ever expect you to understand? You’re mortals. Simple, stupid, inferior mortals.”

Pardon me?

“But maybe even you two can comprehend this: I loathe