A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone #2) - Scarlett St. Clair Page 0,9
on her birthday.
"She would have gotten the job anyway," Hades had said when Persephone asked if he'd made it happen. "She is a great fit."
Thanks, my love! I’m so excited! Lexa texted.
“We’re here, my lady.”
Antoni’s words drew her attention to the Acropolis.
Persephone’s eyes widened and her stomach knotted when she looked out the window.
A crowd had gathered outside of the one-hundred-and-one story building. Security had stepped in to control them, erecting barriers. Several confused employees made their way inside amidst a screaming crowd. Persephone knew they were there for her, and she was glad the windows of Hades’ car were virtually black, making it impossible for anyone to see inside. Still, she slid lower in her seat, groaning.
“Oh no.”
Antoni raised a brow at her in the rearview mirror.
“Is something wrong, my lady?”
She met his gaze, almost confused by the question.
Of course, something is wrong!
The media, that crowd, they were threatening everything she’d worked so hard for.
“Can you drop me off around the block?” Persephone asked.
Antoni frowned. “Lord Hades instructed you were to be dropped off at the Acropolis.”
“Lord Hades isn’t here and, as you can see, that is not ideal,” she said, grinding her teeth. Then she took a breath to calm herself. “Please?”
The cyclops relented and did as she instructed. In the time it took them to get there, Persephone glamoured-up a pair of sunglasses and pulled her hair into a bun. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but it would get her farther than flashing her face to passerby’s.
Antoni glanced at her again and offered, “I can walk you to the door.”
“No, that’s okay, Antoni, thank you.”
The monster shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “Hades won’t like this.”
She met Antoni’s gaze in the mirror. “You won’t tell him, will you?”
“It would be best, my lady. Lord Hades would provide you with a driver to take you to work and pick you up, and an Aegeus for protection.”
She didn’t need a driver and she didn’t need a guard.
“Please?” she begged Antoni. “Don’t tell Hades.”
She needed him to understand. She would only feel like a prisoner, something she’d been trying to escape for over eighteen years.
It took the cyclops some time to cave, but eventually, he nodded. “If you wish, my lady, but the first time something goes wrong, I’m calling the boss.”
Fine. She could work with that. She patted Antoni on the shoulder. “Thank you, Antoni.”
She left the safety of the car and kept her head down as she walked in the direction of the Acropolis. The roar of the crowd amplified as she neared, and she paused when she was within view—it had grown.
“Gods,” she moaned.
“You really got yourself into a pickle,” a voice said from over her shoulder. She spun and found a handsome, blue-eyed god standing behind her.
Hermes.
Over the last few months, he had become one of her favorite gods. He was handsome, funny, and encouraging. Today, he was dressed like a mortal. Well, for the most part. He still looked unnaturally beautiful with his golden curls and glowing, bronzed skin. His outfit of choice was a pink polo and dark jeans.
“A...pickle?” she asked, confused.
“It’s an expression the mortals use when they find themselves in trouble. You haven’t heard of it?”
“No,” she answered, but that wasn’t surprising. She’s spent eighteen years in a glass prison. She hadn’t learned a lot of things. “What are you doing here?”
“Saw the news,” he said, grinning. “You and your boy-toy are official.”
Persephone glared.
“Man-toy?” he offered.
She still glared.
“Okay, fine. God-toy, then.”
She gave up and sighed, burying her face in her hands. “I’ll never be able to go anywhere again.”
“That’s not true,” Hermes said. “You just won’t be able to go anywhere without being mobbed.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re not helpful?”
“No, not really. I mean, I am the Messenger of the Gods and all.”
“Weren’t you replaced by email?”
Hermes pouted. “Now who’s not being helpful?”
Persephone peered around the corner of the building again. She felt Hermes chin rest atop her head as he followed her gaze.
“Why don’t you just teleport inside?” he asked.
“I’m trying to maintain my mortal façade, which means no magic on Earth.”
She didn’t really feel like explaining that she was training to control her magic.
“That’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t you want to walk down that enticing runway?”
“What about normal, mortal life don’t you understand?”
“All of it?”
Of course, he didn’t. Unlike her, Hermes had always existed as an Olympian. In fact, he’d begun his life the same way he lived it now—mischievously.