Chapter VI: Hades

CHAPTER VI

HADES

Hades saw Persephone off to work, which felt like sending her into Poseidon’s ocean. She did not even have an office. She worked out of the Coffee House as if she weren’t his fiancée, as if she hadn’t caught the interest and attention of every god and mortal in New Greece. The sharks would circle, and the only thing that gave him any peace was that Antoni escorted her and Zofie would shadow her.

Once she was gone, Hades went in search of Thanatos and the farmer he had brought to the Underworld. Despite his harrowing end, he’d transitioned to Asphodel, settling on the outskirts of the meadow that was used for farmland. Several acres were set aside for wheat and barley, grapevines and vegetables, olive and fig trees. Beyond that was a field speckled with cows and goats. Souls wandered about the land, conducting maintenance, gathering food, and feeding and milking the cattle.

Among them was the new farmer, who sat on a stool milking a dairy cow. He wore what he had died in, a flannel shirt and a pair of overalls.

As they approached, they cast a shadow on the old man, and he paused his milking to turn and look at them.

“Georgios,” said Thanatos. “This is Lord Hades.”

“Lord Hades,” the farmer said, stumbling to his feet and fumbling for his hat. As he swept it off his head, he revealed a layer of wispy hair that barely covered his bald head. “Well, I… What can I do for you?”

Hades was amused by the farmer’s stammering.

“It is nice to meet you, Georgios,” he said. “I trust you are adjusting?”

“Just like home,” the soul said.

It was a lie.

Hades could see it in the squint of his eyes and the way they darkened as he spoke.

“I hope it comes to feel more like it every day,” he replied—a sincere wish he had for all who came to reside in his realm.

“Thank you, my lord,” said the soul with a tip of his head.

“Georgios,” said Hades. “I’ve come to ask about your death.”

The farmer paled. “Well, I don’t really recall—”

“Do not think of that night,” Hades said. “Think of before. Did anyone come around to your house inquiring after the monster you spotted in your field?”

“Well, yes,” Georgios said. “A couple men in nice suits.”

Hades nodded. “What did they look like?”

“I don’t rightly know how to describe them except to say they didn’t belong. That much was evident.”

“Because of how they dressed?”

Georgios shook his head. “It was more than that. They were just different. Different like you.”

“Different like me?” Hades asked. “What does that mean?”

“Godly, I suppose,” Georgios said.

Demigods, perhaps, but Hades wondered who exactly and if they were sent by Theseus.

“And what did they want?”

“Said they were there because they heard I’d seen a monster. I’m not sure how they knew… I’d only told a neighbor, but word gets around in the towns outside Thebes. Anyway, I showed them where it had been. It was easy to spot because the grass was still flattened.”

“What did they say?”

“Nothing. They just left,” Georgios said.

He was quiet for a moment and then seemed to realize why Hades had inquired after the two men and the monster.

“I suppose you think they came back to kill me?”

“We can’t really know for sure…unless you saw them?”

The soul shook his head. “Later that night, I heard a sound outside. I thought that monster had returned, but as I stepped off the porch, I was hit on the head. After that, I remember nothing.”

Hades exchanged a look with Thanatos. When he met Georgios’s gaze again, he offered his hand.

“I’m sorry to have had to bring this up, Georgios.”

The farmer shook his hand. “No need to be sorry,” he said. “Perhaps you will manage to do me justice.”

“I will,” said Hades. “That is a promise.”

Hades and Thanatos left the farmer to continue milking his cow. The two gods walked side by side and did not speak until they were far away from any wandering souls.

“Do you suspect he was killed by demigods?” asked Thanatos.

It sounded like it. An actual god would have concealed their appearance. A mortal would have never been described as godly.

“If they did not pull the trigger, they ordered it,” Hades said, though who had sent them to the farm was the greater question.

If he had to guess, he’d say Theseus, but he also knew it was dangerous to fixate. There were countless demigods who roamed New Greece unchecked, their powers unknown. Any one of them might have heard about the resurrection of the ophiotaurus and decided to track it.

“Whoever they are,” said Thanatos, “I dread the lives they will take.”

“Let us hope they take no more.”

“Fucking female assassins,” Hermes said, appearing a few feet away from Hades and Thanatos. As he approached them, he brushed at his clothes and his arms as if he were dusting himself off. “Well,” he said, meeting Hades’s gaze, “you weren’t wrong about Dionysus.”

Hades’s brows rose, but he was distracted by a reddish mark on Hermes’s skin.

“Did you…get punched?”

“Listen, have you seen maenads fight? They are vicious. I think I’m in love.”

Hades chuckled.

“Sounds like you’ve had an eventful day,” said Thanatos with a smirk.

“Why don’t you tell us about it?” Hades asked, though he knew he would not need to implore the God of Mischief. He had come to perform a drama.

“I was tracking the ophiotaurus. I’d heard rumors that someone had spotted a large snake outside Sparta, which sounded promising, and it was. I found a trail of blood.”

Hades frowned. “How much blood?”

“Not enough to make me think it was struck by a fatal blow, but something definitely hurt it. What, I cannot say, because I was interrupted by three ferocious female…demons!”

Dionysus’s maenads, Hades presumed.

It wasn’t so much a surprise, but Hades wondered if Dionysus did manage to capture the ophiotaurus first, would he tell him?

“And then what?” asked Thanatos.

“I came here,” Hermes said. “You try to escape. They have teeth.”

“Most people have teeth,” said Hades.

“That is not true, Hades. Trust me,” Hermes said, and by the look in his eyes, Hades guessed he’d seen some things. “Anyway, I’d go back, but I’m kind of aroused now, and I don’t think those ladies are interested in a foursome so…”

Hades sighed.

Thanatos let his head fall into his hand.

“Do you have to be so honest, Hermes?” Hades asked.

Hermes grinned. “It’s why you keep me.”

Hades rolled his eyes, considering what they should do next. “Was the blood fresh?” he asked.

“No, though I could not tell how old.”

That was not as promising as he’d thought. Still, he wondered if he could send Zofie on the hunt. She was formidable and an Amazon—she would not get distracted like Hermes, who was, apparently, a masochist.

His only reservation was taking her away from Persephone.

“You know if you really wanted to find this creature, you could ask Artemis,” Hermes suggested.

Hades bristled at her name, despite the fact that what he said was true. There was no greater huntress than the Goddess of the Hunt, but Artemis was not the type to help anyone, save those who worshipped her. If given knowledge of the ophiotaurus, she would likely slay it and burn the entrails herself.

“I’d rather have my dick bitten off,” said Hades.

“Try having it gummed.”

Hades and Thanatos gave Hermes a horrified look.

“I told you not everyone has teeth,” Hermes said with a shrug.

Hades made a mental note to never talk about teeth with Hermes again.

“I’m not asking Artemis to do anything,” Hades said. “She will see it as a way to obtain a favor.”

It was bad enough that he owed one to her brother, Apollo, who still had Persephone wrapped up in a bargain that called her away from Hades’s side whenever the god pleased—a fact that made him bitter.

“Talk to Dionysus,” said Hades. “If his maenads get to the ophiotaurus first, I want to know.”

“You want me to talk to Dionysus?”

Hades raised a brow. “Yes, Hermes. You’re officially his keeper.”

“Do you know if he’s still angry about his fiery balls?”

“I don’t, but you can ask him yourself.”

“Can it wait?” Hermes asked. “I have to get ready for Sybil’s housewarming party, and, by the way, so do you.”

Fuck. He’d forgotten about that.

“What’s a housewarming?” Thanatos asked.

“It is a party where everyone brings wood to light the hearth in a new home,” said Hades.

“Yeah,” said Hermes. He was already taking a step back, preparing to bolt for the Upperworld. “We’ll go with that. Bring plenty of wood.”

“Hermes,” Hades warned. “Talk to Dionysus. Soon.”

“What’s the exact definition of soon?” Hermes asked.

Hades glared.

Hermes grinned. “See you soon, Daddy Death!”

He vanished, and when he was gone, Hades looked at Thanatos, who asked in a very serious tone, “Which one of us do you think he was calling Daddy Death?”

He would have to tell Ilias what he’d learned from the farmer.

There had always been an urgency behind finding the ophiotaurus, but Hades had felt an even greater need to locate it as Demeter’s storm in the Upperworld worsened and Persephone began to question whether Zeus would allow their marriage.

There were too many obstacles in his way to having everything he had ever wanted. The ophiotaurus would make anyone’s attempt to overthrow the Olympians far too easy, and Hades would be damned if he lost without a fucking war.

As he meandered through the garden, in no hurry to return to the castle, he felt Persephone’s magic blossom.

She was back, which was strange. When she went to the Upperworld for work, she often remained for hours.

He frowned and vanished from the garden, following her magic to the bedchamber where he found her naked. She had yet to turn to him as she bent at the waist, inspecting something on her legs. He was content with this and admired her quietly from a distance, though he let his imagination run wild with other things he would like to do to her in that position.

After a few moments, she straightened, still unaware he had joined her. She turned toward the bathroom and startled.

“Hades!” His name slipped from her mouth on a breathless shout. He liked the way she said his name; it reminded him of how she came with his name on her lips. “You scared me!”

His eyes dropped to her breasts, which she covered with one hand, as if she could stop her racing heart.

“You should have known I would find you once you took your clothes off. It is a sixth sense.”

He guided her hand away from her breast and kissed her fingers, which were delicate and strong. He thought about how they threaded through his hair, how her nails grazed his scalp, how they twined around his hair and pulled as she rode him until he came.

I am fucking insatiable, he thought, even as his eyes drifted down her body.

Except that now he noticed her thighs, which were red and swollen. Small pockets of fluid speckled her skin, clear in color but obvious. They were blisters.

“What is this?” he demanded, pressing his palm flat against the fiery skin, which seemed to revolt against his palm. Persephone gripped his other arm, her nails biting into his arm as he tried to heal her flesh—to heal her burns.

What the fuck?

“A woman poured coffee into my lap,” Persephone said.

He didn’t like the pain that seeped into her voice.

“Poured?” he asked, meeting her gaze.

“If you are asking if it was intentional, the answer is yes.”

Intentional.

It was as Hades had feared in the aftermath of Adonis’s death, and even before that, when news of his relationship with Persephone hit the media. He had always been afraid someone would target her, aware that at some point, something would happen, and Persephone would realize that she could not exist in the world as she once had—as an unassuming mortal.

She was more than that—a goddess to be certain, but his, and that made people angry.

He knelt before her, wrestling with his emotions, which were everywhere all at once. There was a pressure in his head and chest that urged him to explode and seek vengeance, but the guilt kept him anchored at her feet. He should have insisted that she not go out in public; he should have given her an office at Alexandria Tower sooner.

He channeled this frustration with himself into soothing her wounds and healing her. Once he was certain she was no longer in pain and there was no visible sign of the burns, he let his hands slide to the backs of her thighs and held her, his eyes drifting back to hers from his place on the floor.

“Will you tell me who this woman was?” he asked, and he bent forward, letting his mouth drift over her newly healed skin, content when she offered a pleasing sigh.

“No,” she said, bracing her hands on his shoulders, her golden hair curtaining her face.

“I cannot…persuade you?”

She hummed when his tongue darted out to taste as he neared the mound of dark curls between her thighs, catching sight of her clit, which was quickly swelling, begging to be touched and teased.

He groaned at the thought of taking it into his mouth, sucking it gently.

He hardened more and he was certain it was cutting off the blood supply to his brain.

“Perhaps,” Persephone said, her breathy reply sending a surge of heat straight to the head of his cock. Hades struggled to remember what he had asked. “But I do not know her name, so all your…persuading would be in vain.”

“Nothing I do is in vain.”

He could take it no longer and shifted, his mouth closing over her clit, lips teasing. Her sigh was heavy and guttural, and he enjoyed the way her fingers moved to his hair and the sweet sting when she pulled too hard.

“Hades—”

He pulled away enough to whisper against her heated flesh, the taste of her on his tongue enough to drive him mad. If she did not let him bring her to release, he would spend all evening thinking about everything they had left unfinished here.

“Don’t make me stop,” he begged between flicks of his tongue against her.

Another pleasant sigh left her, but when she spoke, her voice was controlled and commanding.

“You have thirty minutes.”

It was enough to make him pull away and meet her gaze, and for fuck’s sake, she was beautiful and far stronger than him. Her eyes gleamed bright green, as if her glamour was fading, but he knew it was just the power of her arousal, a sign of how much she wanted him. The problem was she could control it, could bide her time before release.

Hades could not.

“Only thirty?”

Her eyes flashed and a playful smirk curled her lips.

“Do you need more?”

His let his hands drift to her ass, squeezing as he grinned.

“Darling, we both know I could make you come in five, but what if I’d like to take my time?”

Her smile warmed, her fingers touching his lips. “Later.” Though he could not tell if it was more of a command or a promise. “I have a party to attend, and I still need to make cupcakes.”

“Is it not a mortal custom to be fashionably late?” Hadn’t he heard that somewhere before? He felt like he was pouting, but this was important—pleasure following the pain.

“Did Hermes tell you that?”

“Is he wrong?”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I will not be late to Sybil’s party, Hades. If you wish to please me, then you’ll make me come and on time.”

He offered a light chuckle, letting his chin rest between her thighs as he agreed to her bidding.

“As you wish, my darling,” he said and continued his work, teasing her clit until he felt as though it pulsed in his mouth. Then he drew her leg over his shoulder, and she kept her hands on his shoulders for support, widening so he could taste her. He wanted to fuck her with more than just his fingers and tongue; his cock begged to be inside her, especially when she began to grind against his mouth, but she had given him a limit, and if this was where she was going to spend the majority of his time, he would make it good. He would have to get himself off later while she iced fucking cupcakes instead of his dick.

But this was good.

It was enough.

It was her, and that was all that mattered.

When she came against his mouth, he was satisfied with her pleasure, and he rose to his feet and covered her mouth with his own, holding her tight against him, his head spinning at the minuscule amount of friction their closeness brought to his cock.

He pulled away when her hands tried to gain access to him, but their bodies were pressed so close, she could not manage it.

“I promised to make you come and get you to Sybil’s on time. If you touch me, I will break that promise.”

His words bordered on a threat. He knew what he was capable of at this moment. He also knew he could barely think. One touch from her would seal the fucking deal.

She looked very much like she regretted coaxing that agreement from his lips. She started to open her mouth, but whatever words were poised to come out never left because he kissed her again, his hands framing her head. When he pulled away, he let his forehead rest against hers.

“Go make the fucking cupcakes, Persephone.”

He released her and stepped back. She seemed a little dazed, which was far better than how he felt. He could hardly contain himself as she slipped into a new dress. At the door, she turned to look at him.

“Are you…going to join me in the kitchen?”

“In a moment,” he said.

She nodded, her eyes darting to his dick, which strained hard against his trousers. It was obvious what he intended to do, and the door barely clicked closed before he had unbuttoned his pants, taken his cock out, and began to jerk himself off.

“Fuck me,”he thought as he pumped into his palm, which was nothing at all like Persephone’s wet and writhing body, but he was out of options.

He came quickly, messily, but the release was nothing compared to what he actually needed, and as he washed away the evidence of his actions, he wondered if he could make it through this night without fucking her in Sybil’s new home.