Epilogue

“Who the fuck is he?!” Hades roared.

He was back with the Fates, standing before their gazing pool, glaring at the image in the water. It was blurry. Right over the face of the god who called himself Silas.

“Once more, we answer the same,” Lachesis the Allotter said.

“We cannot see his face,” Atropos the Inevitable added.

“One more powerful than we three has hidden him,” Clotho the Spinner finished.

“No one can hide from Fate,” Hades said.

The women, each one so different in appearance but as closely bound as any Cerberus, shared a look.

“What?” Hades snarled.

“Do not snap at us, Lord Hades,” Clotho said. “We are allies.”

“I'm sorry.” Hades sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “You're right. I'm just frustrated. Is this god dead or not? Can you at least see that?”

“This light is a ward.” Atropos pointed at the pool.

The blurred image of the god got even blurrier as it started to move and then the view panned out to show Amélie, the mate of the Spokane Cerberus, attacking Silas with potions. That woman was brilliant, and Hades hoped that more of his boys would attract witches as their mates. With her magic, the Spokane Cerberus had just become one of the most powerful teams on the planet, second only to the Portland Cerberus.

Yes, witches would make great mates for his hounds. And Hades wasn't the only one who craved their power. That bastard of a god had tried to steal Amélie from his boys. He tried to force her into a union and take her magic. And, even more insulting, he intended it to be a nod at Hades's own myth about him and his beloved Persephone. A myth that was a horrid lie.

Hades was a true god and real man. He didn't abduct women or rape them. That was something he had always looked down on the other gods for. And it annoyed him to no end that he had been lumped in with their nastiness. Humans assumed he was just like Zeus and Poseidon, taking whatever he wanted, including unwilling women. But look what that had gotten those gods—unhappy marriages and empty hearts. While Hades and Persephone fell deeper in love every year.

And that motherfucker knew it. Silas—what a stupid name—knew it and wanted to make a mockery of it. If he wasn't already dead, Hades was going to obliterate him.

“We cannot tell if the witch killed the god,” Lachesis said as the past played out in the pool. “But we believe that ward was not merely for protection.”

“It was to hide the god as he attempted an escape,” Clotho concluded.

“So, he lives,” Hades said.

“It's possible,” Atropos said, her hand sliding back along her skull, over her tightly slicked-back red hair. “But if he survived, it was with help.”

“So two gods are working together against me?”

“Not necessarily,” Lachesis said. “Helping Silas does not automatically make this other god your enemy.”

“Oh, yes it does,” Hades growled. Then he narrowed his eyes at the pool. “A light ward. Strong enough to hide a god from the eyes of Fate.” He blinked, his expression smoothing in epiphany, then shouted, “Apollo!”

“Why would Apollo help this god?” Clotho asked as the Moirai stepped closer to the pool and stared at the images.

The past went still. Frozen on the blast of light.

“I don't know,” Hades murmured, staring at the light along with the Fates. “Apollo and I aren't friends exactly, but we're far from enemies. And he's no fool. He wouldn't want the Earth left unguarded—a playground for the dead.”

“He could have other motivations,” Lachesis said. “His thread is complicated.”

“Or you could be wrong,” Clotho said. “Apollo is not the only god who casts a ward of light.”

“No, but he's the strongest,” Hades said, lifting his head. “And if I'm right, it means that an Olympian is working against me.”

“What will you do?” Atropos asked.

“I don't know yet,” Hades murmured. “Have you seen anything that might help me? Anything about Apollo?”

“We don't spy on Olympians,” the Fates said as one.

Hades stared at them.

The Moirai faltered under that burning gaze. But then Lachesis slashed a hand through the air as if she were cutting a thread. “No, Lord Hades. There are some things we will not do, not even for you. You have seen what you need to see. If Apollo is a part of this, we must go no further.”

“What?” Hades growled. “Are you forsaking me?”

“No,” they said in unison. “We remain your steadfast allies.”

“We will help when we can,” Atropos said.

“We will look where we can,” Lachesis said.

“But we cannot get tangled in Apollo's thread,” Atropos finished.

Hades knew when he could push the Fates. He had been twining them around his fingers for years using a combination of flattery, kindness, strength, protection, and power to win their loyalty. He knew when they'd buckle and give him what he wanted. And he knew when they would stand firm.

This time, they wouldn't buckle.

“Very well,” Hades said. “Turn your eyes away from the Sun. I am not afraid to look into the light.”

With that, the King of the Underworld vanished, leaving the Fates to their threads.

The women looked at each other gravely and said, “Shit.”