Chapter 20

Chapter

Twenty

P ersephone

Theo roars from down the hall, threatening to end whoever dared to steal his deodorant. Again.

I roll my eyes as I pour coffee into my cup, adding too much creamer and not caring one bit that it’s likely to go to my hips. There’s another roar, then a very detailed picture is painted of how one could, in theory, end a thieving life. The image has me only mildly fearful for the deodorant thief.

I slip out the door to the terrace, mostly cutting off the mischief that continues inside. A small table and chairs set sits on uneven stone, staring out over rolling, dry grassy land. We don’t have a sea view from here, and granted, the beige hills aren’t exactly a view to write home about, but somehow, it’s beautiful to me. Magical. Everything about Greece, about these islands that make up this ancient country, is magical.

I warm my hands around the coffee cup, pulling a small sip of creamy, hot coffee into my mouth. I swallow happily, ending on a big sigh. Already prepared for the blazing day ahead, I’m in cute beige shorts and a plain white tank, warding off the early morning chill with an oversized cardigan I took with me from Hades’ home.

He’d been visibly frustrated when he’d been called away for work, explaining that he would be gone for the weekend. He’d wanted me to stay at his penthouse, claiming I would be safer there, but I’d brushed him and his silly worries away, packed my bag, and returned to the communal house. Willa had nearly fainted when I’d showed up last night. Then she ran to the kitchen for alcohol, set out for the hangover that had her moaning in bed where I left her not even an hour ago.

There’s a crash somewhere in the house before I hear the door creak, and feet shuffle. Looking over my shoulder, I see Minthe. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that isn’t so oversized I don’t catch a glimpse of her mint green panties as she lowers to a chair.

She asks, “How’s Willa?”

“Regretting last night. ”

Minthe chuckles. “I bet she is. Girl drinks like a fish but sinks like a stone.”

I laugh. Then I sigh, inhaling deep into my lungs the smell of the land in the crisp early morning. Minthe makes a show of rubbing her arms. “You’re not cold?”

“No. I like it out here. It’s peaceful.”

Minthe’s eyes drift from me to the scenery. She settles in. “Yeah, it is.” We’re silent for a minute before Minthe asks, “Do you miss it?”

“What?”

“Home.”

Something I can’t begin to explain twists in my heart. As she waits for my answer, she lifts her feet onto the chair, curling her arms around her legs. I twist my lips to the side, nibbling on the corner even as I feel her waiting eyes on me. Finally, I answer. “No. Home has never felt like home to me.”

“Does this feel like home?”

I can’t help but look at her. There’s something about her green eyes that calls to me, urging me to look at her, to take in all of her, including the twisting green vines that are inked into the skin of her feet and legs, like the earth is forever trying to be one with her. She’s so beautiful, reminding me of a woodland sprite—if such things existed.

I shake my head and force my gaze away. “I’ve never felt home like I do here. In Greece. With… ”

“With?” she urges. There is hungry curiosity burning in the depths of her voice.

I swallow hard, letting my eyes drift back to her. Then I lie. “I don’t know.”

She sings coyly, “I think you do.”

I swallow another gulp of coffee, pouting because the cup is nearly empty.

Minthe shifts in her chair before she rises. I feel her move closer more than I see her, and before I know it, she’s lowering her body in front of mine, catching my eyes as her knees connect with the uneven stone patio.

I don’t know why, but my heart flutters in my chest. Something warm and soft rises inside me, ballooning in my chest. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was love that grew inside me. Love for Minthe.

Unease blooms on the impossibility of yet more proof of my insanity. How can I think I love this woman whom I hardly know?

Minthe lays her hands on my thighs, her eyes pinned to mine. She speaks with a seriousness that is unusual for her, and yet I sense the genuineness within it. “You can talk to me about anything, Persephone. Anything at all. Anytime. I will never, ever judge you.” She rises, catching my face between her hands as my breaths snag in my lungs. Her face is close to mine now, her eyes pinning mine. She vows, “I will always be on your side. I’ve always been on your side.”

I don’t know how or why, but I sense her words are truer than I can possibly understand. Truer than I have the capacity to realize.

I frown and stutter, “I feel like I know you.”

Her lips curl into a smile, her pixie-bob bouncing when she laughs that musical laugh. “You do know me.”

“No.” I search her eyes that feel so suddenly familiar as she lets her hands drop to her sides. “Like I’ve known you longer than I have.” I shake my head again, frustrated with myself as I place my empty cup on the table. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Weird stuff has been happening to me lately, and I’m just sorry .”

Minthe leans against the table in front of me, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her head to the side. “What weird things?”

“Can I trust you?” As soon as I ask the words, something inside me—intuition, possibly, tells me that I can trust her. “Never mind.”

“Of course, you can trust me,” Minthe pushes.

“No, I mean never mind because I know I can.”

Something sparks in her eyes. Something like hope and excitement bleeding into one burst of emotion, swimming like fireflies. “How do you know that?”

“Well, you just told me I can.” I smirk at her, because this is such a weird conversation. “And I sense it. Sense that I can trust you.”

She’s quiet for a moment, but her eyes never leave mine. “Kind of like you sensed the stairs under the earth? Like you sensed there was more to the temple than we all thought?”

“Yeah. Kinda like that.”

“Have you talked to Hades about it?”

“About what?”

She smiles, but it’s gentle. “About all the things you’re sensing .”

I shake my head and force my gaze from hers. Nibbling my lip, I finally admit, “What I have with Hades is delicate. It’s new, and scary, and more than I’ve ever had with anyone else. I don’t want to scare him away.”

“You couldn’t do that.”

My reply is dry. “I bet I could.”

“I promise, you couldn’t. That—man—is…”

“What?” My breath is stuck in my chest. It is lodged somewhere between hope and fear.

“He’s very infatuated with you, Persephone. More than I’ve ever seen him with anyone else.”

I shift in my seat. “How long have you known Hades?”

“A long time.”

“How long?”

“Almost my whole life.” She wets her lips, and I catch the familiar scent of mint that always clings to Minthe.

I sigh, because even though there’s a big possibility that the next moments could go very wrong for me, I just want it all off my shoulders. The weight of my insanity. The very obvious fact that there is something very, very wrong with me.

I open my mouth, and confession spills even as my heart riots inside my chest. “Hades is amazing. I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for him. When I met him that night in the gallery, even though there was a piece of me that—I don’t want to say I was afraid, because I wasn’t.” I lift my hand to absently touch my fingertips to my chest. I feel the thundering drum of my heart beneath my touch. “But I felt—I sensed—” I groan, because this isn’t coming out right.

Minthe waits patiently.

I continue, “I felt like I could feel power emanating from him. Wild, dark, dangerous power. I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. He made me feel safe and understood. He was the first person to get a glimpse of the real me, and look at me with curiosity and acceptance, not disgust and fear. He’s patient, and kind, and I—he doesn’t deserve to fall for someone like me, Minthe.”

Concern is a fire in her eyes. “What does that mean, Persephone?”

I laugh. The sound is borderline unhinged. “Even if I could move beyond my parents and the fact that I don’t have a visa to stay here—I’m crazy. I’m legit insane—and he doesn’t deserve that.”

Minthe narrows her eyes. My heart clams up in response, cowering in shame at the look in her eyes. “What do you mean, you’re crazy? ”

“I hear things that other people can’t,” I blurt, then slap my hand over my mouth.

Minthe isn’t swayed. “Like what?”

I moan, but it sounds more like a whimper. “Like a man calling my name. And, lately, I’ve been seeing things that aren’t there.” Scooting to the edge of my seat, I implore her to understand. “Minthe, there’s something wrong with me. I think—I think I need a doctor. Maybe there’s something growing in my brain and I’m dying—I—I don’t know.”

There is a moment of pause before Minthe calmly asks, “What are you seeing?”

I decide I’ve already shot myself in one foot, why not go for the gusto and take aim at the other?

I sit back in my chair, drawing my legs up and hugging my knees into my chest. It’s the only shield I have, the only defense I can muster as I murmur, “I swear I saw a mermaid—or I don’t know. I didn’t see a fin or anything, but there was a man just bobbing in the water. He was too far out to have swum, and the way he emerged and just stayed there.” I shiver. “It was eerie. Wrong. Not real.”

Minthe lifts herself onto the table in front of me, legs swinging. “What did he look like?”

“Human, but not.” I shutter my eyes, recalling the man in the water. “He had white hair that reflected like a pearl in the setting sun. His skin was so dark, midnight black, glistening wet. And his eyes—an unreal blue. Glowing like bioluminescence in the middle of a still, darkening sea.”

“Where was Hades?”

“Carrying me. His back was to the water.”

“You didn’t tell him what you saw?”

“It was in my head, Minthe. It wasn’t there, but it felt so real and it scared me.” Ashamed, I admit, “I looked away, buried my face in Hades’ neck.”

“What else have you seen?”

I frown, then scoff. “I don’t even know. There’s no warning when they come, these visions. Most feel like visions—like dreams…” I shake my head, blinking fast. “Or distant memories that can’t be mine. I—I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Minthe calms, leaning forward to touch a warm hand to my knee. “It’s okay, Persephone.”

“It’s not. I don’t know what’s happening. I’ve always been different. Always.” I sniff back tears. I don’t want to cry, but I feel so emotionally raw. “My parents thought I was crazy when I was little. Took me to doctors and everything, talked about a personality disorder.”

Minthe scowls, something like anger flashing in her eyes. “Your parents are idiots.”

“Can you blame them?” I cry. “Because I can’t. Especially not now. Not with all that’s going on.”

“So, why didn’t the doc give you that crazy diagnosis?”

I look away. I can’t meet her eyes and see all the judgement there. “I learned to pretend. It’s just getting harder now, though. It’s more than his voice. I don’t feel present when I have these—episodes.”

“You say his voice? Do you know who it is you hear?”

Gosh, how can a girl my age, who has known me for a couple months, know the right questions to ask? “He—he sounds like Hades. Of course, I know he’s not him.” I can’t help it when my eyes slide to hers, wet with emotion. “But he sounds like him.”

“And the visions?”

I shift uncomfortably. “They’re all about me. I mean, I’m in all of them. Sometimes I feel like I’m actually the person in them. Other times, it’s like I’m watching a memory inside my head. Like I’m watching myself—out of body, you know?”

“Sure.” Minthe nods, even though I’m not sure she knows what I’m talking about. I’m not sure anyone could understand the things I’m saying.

“Sometimes I look like me—just like me. Other times I look like me, but not me.”

Her brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

I laugh nervously. “I had red hair in one of them. My eyes were darker. And my skin was so pale, Minthe. I mean, like I don’t even know that I had freckles—and then I stepped into the sun and everything changed. My hair back to blonde, eyes lighter, skin tanned.” I scoff. “Insanity.”

“Amazing,” she breathes. Then she leaps off the table. “I’m taking you to see a friend.” She’s already at the door when she says, “Be ready to ditch in ten.”

I blink, utterly stunned.

I just spilled my innermost guts to the girl, and she wants to take me to meet a friend?

What’s with the people here not understanding the risk of chilling with a crazy person? A legit mentally unstable person who sees things that aren’t there?

What. The. Actual. Hell?