Chapter 13

Chapter

Thirteen

P ersephone

My feet hang over the back of the yacht to drift in calm blue water, and I sigh. With the sun dipping into the horizon, the azure sky darkens. I shiver as I yawn, but I’m not ready for bed. I’ve slept enough. Still, even as I ignore it, sleep calls to my body.

But I have work tomorrow that I can’t miss, as much as I want to banish life as I know it for the peace I’ve found here on Hades’ boat. I can’t, and I won’t.

Still, this view…

Hades lowers beside me, still wearing the black swim shorts he’d donned when he’d swam earlier, diving deeper than any man should be able to dive without gear. I’d nearly lost my head when I stood at the edge of the boat, watching with bated breath as his form dived lower and lower, growing smaller and smaller, until he disappeared entirely into the darkness of the deep.

I can still recall the way my heart thundered between my ears as panic surged in my veins. He’d been gone so long…

Too long.

When he reappeared minutes later—I didn’t have my phone or a clock to confirm it had actually been minutes—but it felt like at least ten—I’d been a wreck of a woman.

Hades had laughed, brushing off my worry with a, “It was only a minute. I’m fine.”

I’ve been second-guessing the validity of my mind since, wondering if I’ve begun losing time as well as hearing voices and seeing visions that aren’t there—and aren’t real.

Inside my chest, my heart aches. Maybe the doctors of my childhood were right to present a personality disorder. Or maybe there is something more medically wrong with my brain. A tumor, perhaps, pressing on the part of my brain that— what? What kind of tumor could cause these symptoms?

Or maybe I’m just crazy. Maybe my sanity straw was cut shorter than all the others, because I’m clearly missing a good chunk of it.

I take the wine Hades hands me, but I don’t sip it. I don’t want to muddle my muddled brain any more than it already is. I hate that I’m sitting in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been, with the most extraordinary view of the deep blue sea, and I’m stuck in such a state of gloom and doom.

“You’ve been quiet.”

“Just thinking about the dig site,” I lie.

Hades casts his gaze out to the darkening stretch of blue. “And?”

I lift a shoulder. I admit, “I’m a little afraid to go back.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to see people look at me like I’m crazy.” I scoff into the distance, careful not to look at him. Not to even chance a peek. “I see that look enough when I look in the mirror.”

“You are not crazy, Persephone.”

“I’m not sane.”

Hades sighs. After a long moment, he says quietly, “I could keep you here.”

This time, my eyes do swing to him. “You can’t.”

“I can.”

I feel my face screw up into a look of disbelief. “I need to go back or I’ll flunk out of the program.”

“I can call Ralph. He wouldn’t chance losing my funding by flunking you.”

“Stop waving around your power. Or money.” I pout. “Or whatever.”

His grin is devilish. He sips his wine. “What is the point of having power and money and whatever , if you can’t throw it around a bit?”

I make a noise of half-incredulity and half-disgust. “You’re impossible.”

His voice turns serious. “Are you ready to go back?”

I’m not ready for the serious questions regarding my mental standing that will follow if I answer honestly, so instead, I tease, “Are you ready to stop keeping me prisoner on your boat?”

His eyes drift between mine. He answers with far more seriousness than I expect when he tells me, “No. I’ll never be ready to let you go.”

“Hades.” Needing something to do with my hands, I trace the rim of my glass with my finger.

He continues, his voice rippling with dark notes. “If it were up to me, I’d steal you away this very moment and never let you go.”

My breath catches. My pulse races. Awareness pebbles my flesh and something quickens in the deep of my belly.

“How isn’t it up to you?”

He studies me for a long time. “I’m not sure that you would forgive me if I did.”

I feel robbed of all air. Still, I manage, “I probably wouldn’t.”

Softer, far softer than I anticipated, he says, “That is why I hesitate to allow my instincts to dictate my actions where you are concerned.”

I inhale sharply, salted air invading my lungs in the moment before I tear my gaze from his. I laugh, but it’s shallow and nervous. “You’re just playing. You can’t seriously be considering kidnapping me forever.”

“I’ve considered that very thing since the moment I saw you standing in front of my painting in that white dress.”

Breathless. I am breathless. He’s stolen all my air.

“What does that even mean, Hades?”

He casts his eyes to the sea, and my own follow. “The answer will come to you soon enough.”

“I don’t even know how I’m supposed to react to that.” I laugh again. This time, it’s incredulous. “I should be afraid of you. I should flee and never look back.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s what a smart woman would do.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I—” I straighten my spine and sigh. I can’t make myself look at him. “No. It’s not what I want.”

Do I even know what I want? Probably not. But even as I don’t know what I want—I know I don’t want to not have him.

Life is so complicated.

I can feel his eyes on me now as I stare out at the ever-darkening stretch of blue. “You threatened to leave me before I brought you here. When we return to shore, are you going to try to run from me, Persephone? ”

“I don’t know.” I’m only half teasing him. “I haven’t decided.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want to leave me.”

“Want has nothing to do with it.” I kick my feet in the water. It’s darkening with the sky. And with the dark comes a feeling of danger, like something far bigger than I am able to imagine lurks in the depths. I suck in air. “But no, I’m not planning to run from you. Not yet, anyway.”

“Yet?”

“My return flight is booked for September.”

“I see.” I feel him shift beside me, but I forget our conversation as something massive and satiny silver flashes in the depths just underfoot.

I shriek, spilling my wine into the sea as I yank my feet from the water. The deep red of the wine plumes out like blood as I lean over the edge on my knees to peer into the abyss. My heart is pounding so violently that I almost don’t hear Hades next to me.

“What is it?”

“There!” I shriek. Another flash of silver—and I swear to all things holy—I just saw a mermaid. “Oh, my God.”

“Persephone?” Hades calls, his feet still dangling precariously in the water.

I claw at his legs, trying to physically pull him from the sea where the creature of myth might very well snatch him away. “Get out of the water! Get out of the water!” I’m screaming now, shaking .

Hades does my bidding, standing with me. He catches my face between big hands, forcing my frantic eyes to his. “What did you see?”

My lips part, but no sound falls into the space between us. I can’t say it. I just can’t. It’s well and truly insane.

And, like my vision at the dig site, it’s not real.

A sob falls from my lips and my knees buckle. Hades catches me against his hard chest, lifting me into his arms. As I wrap my arms around his neck and peer over his shoulder at the stretch of sea, I see something massive split the water to hover there, its stillness is unnatural.

The form of a man with long white hair and skin the color of ebony stares back at me from eyes so blue, they don’t look real.

Because he isn’t real.

With another sob, I bury my face in Hades’ neck. And I pray that my slipping mind will stop failing me.