A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone #2) - Scarlett St. Clair Page 0,27
out against Apollo via social media, blogs, even going so far as to tell their story to journalists. The problem was no one was listening.
She was so consumed by her research, a knock on her desk made her jump. Persephone found Demetri standing in front of her.
“How’s the article coming?” he asked.
She glared and answered in a crisp tone, “Coming.”
Her boss frowned. “You know if I had a choice—”
“You have a choice,” she said, cutting him off. “You just tell him no.”
“Your job isn’t the only one on the line.”
“Then maybe that’s a sign you should quit.”
Demetri shook his head. “You don’t quit New Athens News without consequences, Persephone.”
“I didn’t know you were such a coward.”
“Not everyone has a god to defend them.”
Persephone flinched, but recovered quickly. She was really starting to hate that people assumed she would ask Hades to fight for her.
“I fight my own battles, Demetri. Trust me, this will not end well. People like Kal, they have secrets and I’ll dismantle him from the inside out.”
A glimmer of admiration sparked within Demetri’s eyes, but the words he spoke next were a threat to her foundation.
“I admire your determination, but there are some powers journalism cannot fight and one of those is money.”
CHAPTER VI - LOVER’S QUARREL
On Friday, Persephone and Lexa found themselves standing outside an upscale Penthouse in the Crysos District of New Athens. They’d rented a giant moving truck that Lexa had managed to park crookedly on the sidewalk and street.
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I said I wanted to party, Persephone,” Hermes pouted beside them. The god dazzled in gold, looking very much out of place beside Lexa and Persephone who wore yoga pants and sweatshirts.
Persephone had penciled him in for Friday after he’d helped her get into the Acropolis, but that was before Apollo had fired Sybil and took away her powers.
“No one said you had to come,” Persephone countered.
The God of Trickery had shown up at her apartment just as they were heading out to get the moving truck. He tried to argue that they had an agreement—a contract—and she couldn’t back out, but Persephone shut that down.
“One of my best friends was in an abusive relationship. She’s getting out and I’m going to be there for her. Now, you can either come with us or you can leave. Your choice.”
Hermes had chosen to come.
“We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for your brother,” Lexa said. “Blame him.”
“I’m not responsible for Apollo’s choices,” Hermes argued. “And don’t pretend like this wouldn’t be more fun with alcohol.”
“Your right,” Lexa said. “Good thing I brought this.”
She withdrew a bottle of wine from inside a backpack she’d brought.
“Give me that,” Hermes snatched the bottle from her hands.
Persephone’s eyes widened. “Excuse me, aren’t you driving tonight?”
“Well yeah, but that’s for after.”
Except that somehow, Hermes had already managed to open the bottle.
“I hope you have more in that bag,” the god replied. “Because this one’s for the present.”
Lexa snorted, and the door in front of them finally clicked. Sybil’s voice echoed through the intercom.
“It’s open, come on up.”
Hermes started forward, but Persephone put her hand out to stop him. “You can get the dolly.”
“Why do I have to get the dolly? I’m carrying the wine.”
Persephone took the bottle. “Now I’m carrying the wine. Dolly. Now.”
Hermes shoulders slumped as he relented and trudged toward the moving truck. He returned wheeling the dolly.
Lexa giggled. “You look awfully mortal, Hermes.”
The god’s eyes darkened. “Careful, mortal. I’m not above turning you into a goat for my own enjoyment.”
“Your enjoyment?” Lexa cackled. “That would be the best thing that ever happened to me.”
The three went up the elevator and were let out in the middle of Apollo’s living room.
Persephone wasn’t sure how to feel at seeing the luxury Sybil had been living in the last few months since graduation. There was no denying being employed as an oracle was a lucrative job, and the goddess felt that seeing all this made Sybil’s situation even worse. It made it tangible. She would be going from living in a high-rise penthouse with floor to ceiling windows, wood floors, stainless steel appliances, and the fanciest coffee machine Persephone had ever seen, to occupying her and Lexa’s small apartment from now until the foreseeable future.
Despite the extreme change in lifestyle, Sybil seemed in good spirits, almost as if moving out of this space was lifting a burden from her shoulders. She popped her head out of an adjoining room. Her blond hair spilled