Chapter 89

89

“You ready, belle?” Hermes called, and Persephone straightened from the front of the rented stagewhere she was pinning up bunting.

“Looks good,” Hermes said. “And it’s almost three. Just enough time to go home, take a nap, and get ready for tonight.”

Easing backwards, Persephone took in the product of a month’s planning. The large tent took up half the new dog park. Three hundred chairs faced the long T shaped stage—a real cat walk. Or should she say, dog walk.

Behind the stage, Persephone knew, the models were getting ready, both human and canine. Hecate was back there somewhere, along with Cerberus and about fifty volunteers.

“Okay,” Persephone said. “Just a sec.”

Two weeks had flown by. After the incident in her apartment, Athena had inexplicably volunteered to pick her up and take her to and from the office. That meant Persephone worked eighteen-hour days, but Hecate was only too willing to check in on Cerberus, sometimes even taking him to visit the shelter and all his old doggie friends.

Hermes had also been exceptionally sweet, flitting in and out of her life, showing up at her apartment with Chinese takeout, leaning against the fireplace and cracking jokes about the Shades, watching her closely to make sure she ate.

She didn’t tell anyone about Spike Hair, or his threats. The truce between Poseidon and the rest of the city leaders was too important for her or a wild card bodyguard to muddle it. She kept her head down, worked outrageous hours to draw every detail of the fundraiser together, and didn’t go anywhere without at least one friend by her side.

Now the work and the wait would pay off. At least she hoped so. Everything hung on the success of tonight.

“What are you still doing here?” Hecate came out from behind the stage curtain, holding an adorable, tiny mutt. “You need to go change. You can’t be the belle of the ball smelling like dog.”

“Everything is going to smell like dog tonight. That’s the whole point,” Hermes joked. “Besides, she’s not the belle of the ball. That would be Queenie.”

The little dog barked when she heard her name, part Chihuahua, part terrier: all attitude.

Hecate laughed, and Persephone tried to smile, but it crumpled quickly under the weight of everything she had on her mind.

“Go on home, Persephone,” Hermes spoke up. “We have it under control, at least until things get underway at seven.”

“All right.” She gave the bunting a final frown and straightened. “Are you my ride?”

“I’ve got my stuff here to change into. I was going to check out the old theater.”

Persephone nodded absently. The theater was a brick building at the end of the park. Too small for the fashion show, it played an important role in the second half of the night’s events—the events that would make or break the alliance between three powerful players and decide the fate of New Olympus.

“Persephone,” Hecate called, and Persephone realized her friend had called her name twice. “There’s someone here to pick you up.” Hermes motioned her out of the tent.

“Fine.” Persephone headed out of the tent, ignoring the worried looks her friends exchanged over her head. She knew she wasn’t acting like herself, and everyone who knew her had picked up on it, but she couldn’t help it.

A month and she hadn’t seen or heard from the man whose last name she still bore. Divorce papers hadn’t arrived, but then, he’d been busy fighting a mock war with Poseidon.

At least there were no more pictures of Hades in the paper with his arm around other women.

Other than reports of escalating violence between New Olympus and Metropolis gangs—street confrontations, drive by shootings, and vandalized buildings owned by Hades’s holding companies—she’d had no sight or sound from her husband, not even from Charon.

Which is why, when she saw the large black man hulking behind the wheel of a car, she stopped short. Charon got out of the car and opened the door. Habit propelled her forward into the back seat, until she sat secure behind bulletproof glass. Her heart ached, being this close to her past life.

“How have you been?” Charon’s dark sunglasses wrapped around his head and she couldn’t see his face.

“Fine.”

Charon turned the car into traffic, pulling out of it a minute later to cut down a back alley. “You eating?”

“Yes. Did you get my last message?” She’d left a voicemail last night. “Are we on?”

“All systems go.” He stayed silent for the few miles the car crawled through thick traffic. “He’s doing well.”

She let out a breath. Now tears came, pooling in the corners of her eyes and stinging. Crap. She couldn’t afford puffy eyes today. But Charon sitting there made the loss too fresh, too raw. She took several deep breaths, though, and managed to get herself under control.

After parking, Charon followed her into her apartment. Cerberus was already at the pavilion, a lead in the doggie fashion show.

Her thoughts on Hades, Persephone left Charon in the living room while she showered. Her dress, an ethereal blue, lay on the bed.

She dried her hair quickly, then pulled it back in an antique silver clip, curling the ends. She put on just enough make up to give her a dewy glow. She looked like a teen ready for prom, except for the distant look in her eyes.

The dress came on like a second skin, the neckline plunging to the point where she couldn’t wear a bra. Try as she might, leaning over and shifting, the final few inches of the dress’s zipper escaped her. The last time she’d worn it, she’d been on Hades’s arm. He’d helped her with it. She felt a twinge of pain at the memory.

Trotting out of the bedroom, heels in hand, she waited until Charon turned away from the balcony doors.

“Will you zip me? I can’t reach it.” She went to him and turned, head bowed. A pause, then the dress bodice tightened as he obliged. For such a big man, his hands were nimble, zipping her up and hooking the little hook without so much as touching her.

Once she felt the hook catch, she stepped away and bowed to slip on her shoes, heels like skyscrapers. She’d be among powerful men tonight, and she needed the height, the authority.

The dress’s baby blue color gave her an innocent air, complemented by the pink of her cheeks. An approachable sweetness, until someone got close and realized the fit was so tight they could pick out the goosebumps on her legs if they wanted to, and just one twitch to the side and her nipples would be exposed. All the more sexy, because it was unexpected.

Charon must have felt the effect, because as she straightened, she felt large hands brushing her back, lifting her curls and fixing them so they flowed down her back. It felt nice.

“You were right,” Charon said out of the blue. “I loved Chiara. We were engaged.”

Charon’s voice was so deep, and he was usually so quiet, she almost thought she’d imagined it.

She kept her head bowed, hoping he’d take the hint and keep talking and fussing with her hair.

“We kept it a secret. People didn’t need to know. We knew. From the first time we saw each other, we knew we would be together.”

His hands on her shoulders turned her gently to face him. Even in her skyscraper heels, he dwarfed her. “She was in danger, just because she was born. Her father had so many enemies. And she was just this little, shy thing, until you got to know her. Then she was feisty.”

He looked like he was about to laugh, and he tugged one of Persephone’s curls. Then his face darkened. “I was young. Cocky. I thought I was strong enough to keep her safe.”

He paused so long, Persephone wrapped her hands around his wrists, as if her touch would bring him back to her.

“You hate it when we keep you in the dark, or on a pedestal. But I’m telling you, if I could bring Chiara back, I’d take her far, far away and lock her in a tower if that’s what it took to keep her safe.”

Oh Charon. Persephone wanted to reach out and comfort him, but she didn’t want to break the spell. He was opening up to her and she saw the truth, that inside the large, brutal man before her, there was a gentle giant. Or at least, there once had been. Was there anything left of the boy who had once loved a girl, before he’d lost her so brutally?

Her eyes searched his black ones. She found nothing but darkness.

And suddenly, she was crying. She felt like she’d cried an ocean of tears lately. But how could she not? First Hades, then Charon. How was it possible for two men to lose so much?

Charon shushed her, pulling her to him and holding her in a giant hug. His heat wrapped around her as she pressed her face to his suit as if that would stop her tears. She’d need to redo her makeup but she didn’t care.

A big hand cupped her head. “I had a childhood growing up with her. Watching over her. And when we were older, we had a year together. A good year. Then her parents died, and she got shut up at the Estate. One good year, and one bad. Then she died.”

He put his head close to Persephone’s, making sure she heard him. “She was sneaking out of the Estate, trying to meet me.”

“Oh, gods.” The image played in Persephone’s head, immediate and full of color: sweet Chiara, young Chiara, running over the green lawn to meet her love. Then— Then?—

Persephone’s stomach spun and she squeezed her eyes shut. No. She couldn’t lose it now. Charon deserved for her to hear him out.

“Hades and I found her a week later.” Charon reached out and took her hand. “We’d told her it wasn’t safe. She knew that and went anyway, no guard on her, no protection, she just got a mad idea and ran off to find me.”

Persephone wiped her eyes, pressing her fingers to her skin as if they could hold back tears. “So when I snuck out?—”

“It was Chiara all over again. And her death is something he’s never dealt with. It was too much. It could’ve been Chiara all over again, and it was too much.”

She dropped heavily on the couch. “Then why aren’t you mad at me? You of all people have every reason. My parents?—”

“Aren’t you,” he said firmly, sitting beside her. “And I’ve dealt with her death, Persephone. I buried her. I loved her, and she died, but she’s not gone. Not while I have my memory. She was the love of my life and I’ll never lose her.”

He sighed. “But Hades fights it. He thinks if he works hard enough, long enough, wraps up every inch of this city so tight that nothing happens without his say so, that he’ll somehow save Chiara, and bring her and his parents back. He’s spent all these years running.”

Persephone sat up beside him, searching his face. “What does that mean?”

Charon tilted his head towards her. “Means he needs a woman by his side who understands, and who can be there for him. In his world, men destroy, women heal. He needs you.”

“He sent me away.”

He squeezed her hand. “He needs you.”

“Will I ever see him again?” she whispered.

Charon let his features soften into a smile. A happy ache went through her at the tender sight. The gentle giant was still there. That boy who’d once loved a girl remained inside the man today. “That can be arranged.”

Persephone’s lower lip trembled, but she nodded. “Okay.”

His wrapped a big arm around her, and she relaxed into the hug, letting his steady heartbeat calm her.

He said Hades needed her. Wrapped in Charon’s warmth, she felt like anything was possible.

A thought struck her.

“What about you, Charon? Are you going to fall in love again?”

He turned and lightly—very lightly—kissed the top of her head.

Her cheek pressed to his huge chest, she blinked. She let him hold her for a beat, then, she shifted away, avoiding his eyes.

“I should fix my makeup.” When she let her eyes drift up to his face, she could barely look at his tender expression. He looked ten years younger, closer to her age.

With a nod, he let her up and she stood up.

Back in the car, they shared a taut silence. Charon’s large hand rested on his leg; she reached forward and touched the gold band he wore on his right ring finger.

He looked down at her, eyes still gentle.

“Thank you,” she said, touching the ring she now knew he wore for Chiara. Her throat closed before she could elaborate—thank you for sharing, for watching over me.

His eyes crinkled into a smile and she knew he heard her unspoken words.

Then his gaze slid down to her cleavage and back up. “I’ve got your back tonight,” he said, and he didn’t sound happy. “Don’t let anyone get too close.”

She read his displeasure and couldn’t help smiling. “Hades bought me this dress,” she reminded him, and his nostrils flared.

“You were mine, I wouldn’t let you out of the house in that thing.”

“Good thing I’m my own woman then,” she said. “Because you boys couldn’t pull this off without me.”