huge no.
“How soon can you get me in?”
“Tomorrow, if you like.”
Persephone tapped the card against her palm.
“Hades will be angry if he finds out.”
Leuce smirked. “He always finds out.”
“I will protect you,” she answered.
“I’m not worried about me,” Leuce said. “Who will protect you?”
“From Hades?” She was surprised by the question but knew the answer. There was no protecting herself from her lover. The air between them was raw. Even if she had wanted to, there was nothing she could do against the God of the Dead.
“I no longer have protection against Hades.”
CHAPTER XIV - INIQUITY
Persephone needed to be at Iniquity at midnight.
Earlier in the day, she’d told Hades she was going stay at her apartment to be with Sybil. Instead, she spent the evening getting ready.
Her dress was revealing to say the least, and she wondered what Hades would say if he saw it. It featured a crisscross mesh top with a high neckline, long sleeves, and a short, black skirt. She paired it with a black bralette and strappy heels.
“You look stunning,” Sybil said. She stood in Persephone’s doorway in her pajamas—a blue shirt and grey shorts.
“Thanks.”
“You don’t look excited to be going out.”
“It isn’t for fun.”
Sybil nodded. “Do you have to go?”
“I think so,” she met Sybil’s gaze. “Is there anything I should know?”
She wasn’t completely sure how Sybil’s powers worked, but she liked to think if she was walking into anything dangerous, Sybil would let her know, but the oracle shook her head.
Instead, she pushed away from the doorframe and said, “I’ll call you a taxi.”
Sybil disappeared.
Persephone looked at her reflection again. She almost didn’t recognize the person staring back. She was different—changed.
It’s darkness, she thought.
But it wasn’t Hades who had coaxed it to the surface.
It was Lexa’s pain that had unleashed it.
Sybil returned. “Taxi’s here.”
“Thanks,” Persephone said. She took a deep breath, feeling as though she couldn’t quite breathe deep enough. She collected her clutch and phone, and when she turned to leave, she found Sybil still standing in the doorway, watching her.
“Hades doesn’t know where you’re going, does he?”
Persephone opened her mouth and then closed it. There was no need to answer, Sybil already knew. So instead she said, “It isn’t like he can’t find me.”
The oracle nodded. “Just…be careful, Persephone. I know you want to save Lexa, but what will you destroy to get there?”
Those words shivered down her spine. She didn’t like what they implied. All Persephone wanted was for everything to go back to the way it was before Lexa’s accident.
“I thought you said there was nothing I needed to know.”
The oracle gave a wry smile. “You don’t make promises and oracles speak in riddles.”
Fair.
Persephone had learned a lot about oracles from Sybil. They might hear prophecies, but they heard them the way they said them. How it was interpreted was up to the one who received it.
Persephone chose to interpret this as—there’s no other way, and so she left for Iniquity.
She tamped down the anxiety that flared in her stomach when she told the driver her destination. He glanced at her in the rear-view mirror. The name clearly made him uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything, just nodded and took off into the night.
Persephone settled into the backseat and checked her phone.
It was a habit because she used to talk to Lexa all the time, but there were no new messages—none from Lexa, no updates from Jaison or Lexa’s mother, nothing.
She spent the ride reading through previous text messages from Lexa and by the time the cab stopped, her eyes were watery and her throat thick with tears. The emotion was motivating. It made it easier to swallow her guilt and look out the window.
The car had stopped in front of a plain, brick building. The name was nowhere to be found on the exterior.
She hesitated before exiting.
“Is this...the right place?” she asked.
“You said Iniquity, right?” the driver asked, he pointed to the building. “That’s it.”
She left the cab and stood outside alone, unnerved by the quiet. She had expected a crowd similar to Nevernight even though Leuce had made it clear Iniquity was different. It was invitation-only—exclusive to the underbelly of society. She shivered and started down the alleyway. The taxi driver had dropped her off at the front of the building, but Leuce had been clear in her instructions: the entrance is in the back, down the stairs, knock once.
She headed down a dimly lit alleyway and found the door. She did as she was instructed and a