Chapter XLIV: Theseus

CHAPTER XLIV

THESEUS

Theseus ushered Persephone out of Alexandria Tower and into a waiting SUV and climbed into the vehicle behind her. As soon as they were seated, he held out his hand.

“Your ring,” he said.

“My—why?”

“Your ring,” he said sharply. He did not like repeating himself. “Or I will cut your finger off too.”

It was not an empty threat. He was a man of his word.

She glared but pulled the ring off. He dropped it into the pocket of his jacket.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

He had expected his question. They always wanted to know, as if it the knowledge somehow mattered.

It didn’t.

It was not as if she could escape him. By the time they reached their destination and she saw what he was capable of, she would be too afraid to move against him.

“We will be going to the Diadem Hotel until I am ready to execute my plans with you.”

“And what are those?”

“I am not one to show my hand before I am ready, Queen Persephone.”

He’d hoped she would react a little more to the use of her title, but she ignored it. He didn’t like that and a wave of irritation rushed to his head, making his face burn.

“Is Sybil there? At the hotel?”

“Yes. You will get to see her. You will need to see her so you can remember why you must follow through on your mission.”

The mortal was in bad shape, but that was to be expected. She was the lamb—a sacrifice sent to slaughter. Without her, he had no compliance from Persephone. Demeter had been right about the goddess, she would do anything to save her friends, anything for the world.

Her righteousness would be the end of her—it would be the end of Hades.

She was finally quiet, at least for a moment, though there was a part of him that wanted her to continue preaching to him as if her values were not her weaknesses. He would use each of them against her later as he became Fate, weaving a tortuous existence for the Goddess of Spring until she begged for mercy at his feet.

That was what he wanted from her, what he wanted from the world—submission, obedience.

The thought made his cock swell and he glanced at Persephone. She had crammed herself into the corner of the vehicle as far away from him as possible, though she was angled toward him, as if she expected him to attack.

She was prepared to fight him. He liked that. It made his mouth water, it made his dick twitch.

But he knew self-control and understood his priorities. He had to execute a plan before he could break her.

And break her he would. He would shatter her so thoroughly she would never find all the pieces.

“You are working with my mother?”

He would not exactly call it working. He did not work with anyone. He used what they offered, and when he was done, he discarded what was left. It was simple. No waste.

“We have common goals,” he said.

“You both want to overthrow the gods,” she said.

“Not overthrow,” he said. “Destroy.”

“Why? What do you have against the gods? You were born from one.”

“I do not hate all gods,” he said. “Just the inflexible ones.”

There were plenty who were willing to concede to his desires to maintain their existence as they had done when the Olympians first overthrew the Titans. Unlike her, they did not care about humanity, only that they could continue to live in comfort upon the Earth.

“You mean the ones who will not let you have your way?”

“You make me sound selfish. Have I not always spoken of helping the greater good?”

And the greater good was of benefit to all, even those who did not realize it.

But it was just a matter of time before they understood—it was either his idea of the future or war—and who wouldn’t want what he had planned? He would bring about a golden age, much like when Cronos ruled. There would peace and prosperity. There would be no need for rules or laws outside of the expectations he had for the world, and his worshippers would listen because he would provide their every need.

And Persephone, whether she wanted to or not, would bring about eternal spring. He would use her as he used all gods—the ones he could force, of course.

“We both know you want power, Theseus. You are only playing at offering mortals what other gods will not grant.”

He played at nothing but she was soon to realize that.

Theseus grinned. “Ever the skeptic, Lady Persephone.”

His smile did not work on her the way it worked on others. She did not relax or stop scowling. She continued to glare, angry and defiant. Usually, he liked defiance because he could punish it, but right now, he needed her to obey so he could execute his plan.

She did not seem scared so much as angry, which annoyed him.

It did not matter, he supposed, because by the end of this, she would fear him and she would hate him.

Then she would be perfect.

When they arrived at the Diadem, he reached across and wrenched her face between his fingers, forcing her to look at him. She stiffened beneath his touch, and he knew no matter how he coaxed, she would never ease beneath him. That was fine. He only needed her willing to a point, beyond tonight, he did not care.

“We have a bit of a stroll to make. Just know I will be counting the number of times you misbehave, and for each offense, I will cut another finger from your friend. If I run out of fingers, I will move on to toes.” He released her with a jerk. “I trust you will obey.”

They left the vehicle, and as he came around the SUV, he offered his hand to Persephone. Her eyes were bright with hatred. Very few mortals knew the difference between that and passion.

Like a good girl, she accepted him, and they entered the hotel.

“Does Hera know you are using her facility for treasonous activities?”

She spoke quietly as they made their way through the bright lobby.

He laughed—genuinely. That was rare, but he found her question amusing. Clearly Hades did not tell her anything. Hera had offered several floors to him for his own private use. And use them he did—for sex, murder, hostages, whatever he wanted.

“Of all the gods, Hera has been on our side the longest,” he said.

It helped that she despised her husband and that he continued to forgive her despite her many betrayals—but that was the nature of love, the greatest weakness of all. It would be Zeus’s downfall just as much as it would be Hades’s.

“I assumed you would be more discreet,” Persephone said. “Since you are breaking the law.”

He leaned close, enjoying how she cringed as he neared.

“You broke the law,” he pointed out, his lips grazing her ear. “You engaged in battle with the gods.”

“You kidnapped my friend.”

“Is it a crime if no one knows?” Her jaw tightened, and he could feel her seething hatred. He wanted to taste it, and he would. Soon. “Do not waste your thoughts on how you will torture me when I die. Hades has already claimed that honor.”

She offered a bark of laugh. “Oh, I will not torture you when you die. I will torture you while you live.”

He hoped she did. He liked pain.

He dragged her upstairs, forcing her to keep pace with him. When they made it to the room, he held the door open for her. It was the least he could do—the absolute least.

She kept her eyes on him as she entered until she caught sight of her friend in the corner.

“Sybil!”

He knew he had her obedience by the tone of her voice. He’d heard that sharp cry too many times in the past not to know what it meant. She was horrified, and she understood the threat.

He let her go to her friend, who was barely awake, bloodied and beaten. She knelt at her feet and spoke her name quietly, desperately. Theseus liked the sound and his head tipped with pride. It was a mournful song and he had been the composer.

He waited.

When she turned on him, she finally caught sight of the other body.

“Harmonia!”

“Oh yes,” he said. “That one was with her when we showed up. Made a mess of things, so I was forced to make a mess of her.”

“You didn’t have to hurt them,” Persephone said, her voice trembling.

Good.

“But I did. You will understand what it takes one day to win a war,” he said, then pointed to the large man in the room. “Tannis here is your bodyguard. Tannis.”

The man brandished a knife and placed the blade against one of Sybil’s fingers as a demonstration.

“No!” Persephone lunged.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Theseus said, holding out his hand, palm flat. She froze, breathing hard. Her eyes bright with fury. “Tannis is a butcher’s son. He is an expert carver. He has been ordered to dismember your friend if you misbehave. Of course, not all at once. I will return shortly.”

Theseus left the hotel, his skin buzzing.

If he’d had time, he would have summoned Helen and fucked her in the on the way to his next destination. She wouldn’t fight him unless he asked, but it wasn’t as fun if it wasn’t real—no, she was merely a vessel for his pleasure, a way to release when he found himself in situations like this. Right now, he’d much prefer the resistance that only a woman like Ariadne or Persephone could provide.

Except he had no time. Persephone’s magic would not hold Hades long and once he was free, Theseus knew exactly what he would search for—the energy signatures of her engagement ring.

He entered the back of the SUV. Once the door was shut, Hera appeared beside him.

Theseus did not look at the goddess, but he felt her suspicious gaze. There was nothing quite like it and it killed the high he’d had from his time with the Goddess of Spring.

“There is no going back from this,” she said.

“Having second thoughts?” he asked mildly.

“Questioning if I was wrong to put my faith in a demigod.”

Theseus chuckled humorlessly. “Faith requires trust, and let’s be honest. Neither of us trust the other.”

He was not stupid. If Hera was caught before they could imprison Zeus, she would fold and blame him for the uprising. If they succeeded, she would attempt to kill him to take the Olympian throne. Her predictability was boring.

They arrived at the Palace of Knossos, the exterior of which was nothing more than crumbling ruins.

“This is where you intend to trap Hades?” Hera scoffed. “He will hardly fall for this.”

Theseus pulled out Persephone’s ring. It was cold against his skin, no longer warm from the heat of her body.

“He will go anywhere if he thinks Persephone is there.”

Theseus closed his fingers around the ring and strode into the palace. Beneath its derelict exterior was an ancient labyrinth, and Theseus had spent the last few years creating an extensive network of cells powerful enough to contain gods.

It was his own version of Tartarus, housed within a labyrinth, and they were about to see just how well it worked.

Hera followed behind him at a distance, likely not trusting that he wouldn’t attempt to take her prisoner, but he was not yet interested in her.

Hades was the problem, the thorn.

Theseus knew the God of the Dead had been working on executing his own plan, not only to combat him but to eventually overthrow his brother, but Hades was about to realize he had not worked fast enough.

He took a set of crumbling stairs down into the dark depths of the palace, until he came to a great metal door that he opened with a press of his palm, revealing a long row of cells. He could already hear the heavy and gruff breathing of the Minotaur as he made his way to the middle of the hall where he faced the monster.

He was large and towered over him. He had the head of a bull, his snout was wet and dripping as he bellowed, charging the metal bars, jamming his horns through them, not caring as he ricocheted against them. His human hands gripped the bars instead, shaking as he attempted to pry them apart, but they did not move—and they wouldn’t. They were completely composed of adamant. It was the only metal that could harm a god, the only metal that could contain a god.

“Asterion?” Hera asked.

He was the first Minotaur—the one who had originally existed in the bowels of this very palace, in the labyrinth beyond these cells.

“Oh no, he is long dead. This is my creation.”

“Your creation?”

Theseus said nothing; he did not need to explain himself. Minotaurs were created as they always had been—from the coupling of a bull and a woman.

“You are no different from your father,” she sneered.

“Whatever it takes,” said Theseus, and then he looked at the goddess whose sharp features were still narrowed in disgust, as if she had committed no horrors in her long life. “Isn’t that what you said? Do whatever it takes? I’m willing. Are you?”

Hera only stared, and then Theseus turned his attention to the Minotaur again.

“Open it,” he said.

“What are you thinking?” Hera demanded, her magic rising to fight.

He chuckled as a door within the cell opened which spilled out into the labyrinth.

The Minotaur whirled to face it, stance wide, breathing hard.

“Did I frighten you, Hera?” Theseus asked, and then he left the floor, heading up a set of stairs to the second floor of the prison where a platform overlooked the vast and complicated maze. It was extensive and dark with no uniformity to its shape or the size of the corridors.

They watched as the Minotaur crept into it and saw how he raged when the door to his cell shut, trapping him inside.

“Hades can kill a Minotaur,” said Hera.

“I know,” said Theseus.

He was counting on that.