Chapter Thirty-Five

My heart thunders as I knock on Nick's door. It strikes me how eerily similar the situation feels to last year, regardless of the fact that I'm not here to break his heart this time.

Though, after what I'm about to tell him, maybe I'm wrong.

Nick opens the door with a heartfelt smile. He's changed into his usual attire of a band tee shirt–this one says Nirvana –and jeans. "I had a feeling it was you." He gestures for me to come inside. "I was just about to come get you."

"Oh yeah? What for?" I suggestively raise my eyebrows.

His eyes flare with a possessive gleam, and he hooks a finger through the belt loop in my jeans to drag me toward him. "I was going to see if you wanted to grab a late dinner, but now that you mention it," his hands drift towards my ass, "I'm suddenly hungry for something else."

I stare at him beneath my lashes, desire flooding my veins. Easy. It would be so easy to get lost in him. His hands on my body. His lips on mine. Just disappear in a tangle of limbs and boundless pleasure for the rest of the evening, with the man who is literally my other half. And yet, I summon the strength to pull away from him, though Nick's hands still rest on my hips.

"Did you get your phone back?" I ask.

"I did." Nick eyes me cautiously. "Why? Did they not return yours? Hades' message swore he-"

I hold up a hand. "They did return mine. The reason I'm bringing this up is because I received a phone call from Jesse."

Nick's fingers dig into my waist. His eyes narrow, darkening to black, and his nostrils flare in anger. "Why is he calling you?"

"He asked to meet me." A growl rumbles within Nick's chest. "He said something happened, and he sounded desperate, so I'm going to meet him."

"Not a fucking chance in Hell."

"Are you really going to act like a possessive caveman? You don't trust me? "

Nick shakes his head. "I don't trust him. I haven't since the moment I caught him sneaking through your window and pulled him through it by his fucking neck."

I scoff. "Nick, I've known Jesse forever. He was my best friend. If I don't find out what's wrong, the guilt will eat me alive."

"Why couldn't he just tell you over the phone?" Nick argues.

I sigh wearily. "Because sometimes you just need face-to-face interaction. He's obviously down about something, something big, otherwise, he would have. I haven't spoken to him in a month, Nick. For him to call me, begging…something really must be wrong."

Nick appears to mull this over, and though his eyes don't change from their onyx shade, the rough grip at my waist softens. "Where are you going?"

"Kruptos."

"The speakeasy?"

I nod.

Nick rakes his fingers through his hair. "One hour, Rhi. He gets one hour of your time. And I will drop you off and pick you up."

"Wow. So much for not wanting to be the kind of overbearing prick that tells his girlfriend what to do." I attempt to turn but am whipped back in his arms, and his fingers tip my chin so I'm forced to stare directly into those still night-dark eyes.

"You're my soulmate, Rhi. Not my fucking girlfriend. There's a huge difference, so when it comes to your safety, yes, I will be overbearing. And I. Don't. Fucking. Trust. Him." He punctuates the last five words like he's spearing them through my skull.

The anger that had been simmering settles into a dull annoyance before evaporating completely, because I can't fully blame him. Nick and I have been through so much in the last year alone and have finally found a semblance of peace in the newfound revelations of my parentage, the Bargain being fulfilled, and the knowledge that he and I are bound together.

"Fine. You drop me off. I'll speak with Jesse and then meet you back outside in one hour on the dot."

Gold fights its way back into his eyes, and Nick drops his mouth to mine before bringing his lips to my ear.

"Good girl," he praises.

Shivers wrack my spine, but before I can act on the heat that floods my core, Nick shuffles toward the door, swinging his car keys on his finger.

"Come on," he gestures for me to follow. "Let's get this over with."

Nick and I pull up to Kruptos where I see Jesse waiting right by the door. Guilt immediately socks me like a sucker punch to my stomach when I take in his disheveled appearance. His usually perfectly coiffed dark brown hair is askew, and both his dress shirt and pants are wrinkled, as though he's slept in them for days. But it's his bloodshot eyes and the dark circles bruising the skin beneath them that really punctures my heart.

Just what has Jesse been dealing with?

Nick puts the car in park and is out of the driver's seat faster than human eyes can comprehend. He opens my car door, shoots Jesse a scathing glare, then seizes my mouth with his lips in a possessive claiming. My Scylla perks up, as I can actually hear the beast within him snarl, but it's not at me. All this animosity is completely directed towards Jesse.

I step back, stopping the kiss.

"One hour, Rhi," is all Nick says before he gets back in the car and drives off.

I approach Jesse, whose gaze lingers on the empty space where Nick's Aston Martin had been .

"Protective of you, isn't he?"

"A bit," I say with a meek smile.

"Outrageously jealous, too."

That comment has the Scylla snarling. I feel fiercely protective of Nick, too. "He has nothing to be jealous of."

Jesse swipes his hand down his face in exasperation. "I'm sorry, Rhi. I'm not myself. Can we just go inside?"

I nod, still seething a bit, but I follow Jesse inside the familiar pawnshop, noting the absence of the hostess that was present the last time. Jesse follows all the similar motions of tilting the painting to reveal the hidden corridor, and a mostly empty speakeasy, save for a single bartender and waitress. We end up sitting in the same booth towards the back of the speakeasy.

The waitress, this one with a short, platinum blonde bob, comes over to take our drinks. Jesse orders another Negroni while I abstain.

"Jesse, what's going on?"

Jesse sighs and drops his head in hands. He peers up at me between his parted pointer and middle finger before letting them fall to his lap. "One of my employees went missing. He was - fuck - " I startle as he slams his fist on the table. "He was a good friend and a good man. A wife, two kids." Jesse shakes his head. "I don't know what I'm supposed to tell her."

I reach for him, placing my hand on his arm. "What happened?"

The waitress sets down Jesse's drink, and he finishes it in one gulp before he continues. "He went out one night with another co-worker. I was supposed to meet them. I fucking told them to go there. But I got so caught up at the office that by the time I finished working, I was too tired and just went home."

"That doesn't make any of this your fault, Jesse. Is it possible he was cheating on his wife?" That earns me a glare, and I drop my hand from his arm. "Maybe he left town with a mistress and didn't want to be found."

"He would have said something to me," Jesse argues. "Even if he was cheating on his wife and wanted out, I would have known. But he wouldn't have left his children."

I wrack my brain, trying to come up with more scenarios for how and why one of Jesse's friends would have vanished.

"Did he have any enemies?"

Jesse chuckles darkly. "Don't we all?"

Ok, this isn't getting me anywhere.

"What about the bar where you were supposed to meet him? Did you ask to see cameras?"

"It wasn't a bar. It was a club. Maybe you know it. It's called Strega."

It feels as though liquid ice has been shot through my veins. There's no fucking way.

I school my expression to neutral and nod. "Did you," I clear my throat and repeat, "did you ask to see the cameras?"

Another drink lands in front of Jesse, and he again shoots it down in one swallow. "I did. All I saw was him at the bar with Anthony and some girl. And then a bunch of girls approached them."

My fingers shake. "Did you get a clear look at the girls?"

Jesse shakes his head. "The cameras were blurry around Peter and the girls' faces, but the first one left. Peter took off with one of them. The cameras don't show where they went, and they aren't allowed in the private VIP rooms, but I never saw Peter or the girl on the cameras after that."

My thoughts instead war with each other, guilt and anger taking violent stabs back and forth.

He had a wife and children.

He was a fucking rapist.

"What about his friend?" I continue to keep my voice as steady as I can. "Was he able to give you any details?"

Jesse again shakes his head. "Apparently, he got violently ill and threw up all night. The only thing he said he could remember was that he must have eaten cherries." Jesse clenches his jaw, a vein popping in his temple. "I bet those fucking bitches drugged him."

A maniacal laugh escapes me, and once it starts, I can't contain it. Oh, the irony. With each pearl of laughter that bubbles from my chest, Jesse's face grows redder and redder.

"What the fuck, Rhi? I'm sitting here telling you that I think one of my friends was possibly murdered, and the other drugged, and you sit there and fucking laugh? Glad you find it funny that a good man-"

"Stop FUCKING saying that," I snarl, my voice a mixture of my own and something else. Something dark and viperous.

Jesse blinks, staring at me in wide-eyed confusion.

All my fucks have officially left for the evening, and I lean into him. "He wasn't a good man, Jesse. He was a fucking rapist. He was attempting to drug that girl you saw before my friends and I got there, and he tried to rape me. "

His tan skin leeches of color, and his throat works, bobbing slowly. "So you…you're the girl from the camera? What did you do to him, Rhi?"

I rear back as though slapped. I've just told my oldest friend that someone he considers a "good man" tried to rape me, and he's still more concerned with the whereabouts of the motherfucker.

"Nothing he didn't deserve, Jesse," is what I tell him, and then I stand. I've only been here for ten minutes, but I'm done with this conversation. Jesse showed his true colors when he displayed more concern over his missing "friend" than me.

I try to push past him, but Jesse grabs my wrist. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"Not without telling me where he is."

"No longer on this side of the River Styx. In fact, he's hopefully being tortured somewhere in Tartaros, and if he isn't, I know a guy."

Jesse stares at me, baffled. "You're fucking insane. He has a wife! He has children!"

"Then I did them a favor. Now, let go of my wrist before I break your fucking hand."

Jesse lets me go, and I make it all of two feet before he calls out, "Running back to him ?" He releases a vicious laugh, one I can't ever recall hearing, yet it sounds like it suits him. Like he laughs that way often, and I've only just heard it now. Against my better judgment, I face him.

"What a fucking hypocrite you are. Up in arms at the distinct sexual tastes of my friends, yet here you are, opening up your legs for the Crown Prince of Hell."

For the second time, my blood ices over. My eyes rove over Jesse, and something seems innately off about him. His "friend", the rapist, was some type of monster, as I recall how rapidly his wounds healed. Could Jesse be one as well?

"Who the fuck are you?"

Jesse's mouth parts in an unhuman smile, and I resist the urge to flinch as he walks toward me. "I find it humorous that after thirteen years, you hardly know anything about me." Jesse stops, his body too close to mine for comfort. He runs a knuckle down my cheek. "I, however, know everything about you, Scylla."

I jerk away from his touch. Nick is right outside. Nick is right outside, I chant as I slowly back away. Jesse pursues, removing his belt as his steps kill the distance between us.

What the-

"I have one more question, though."

My eyes flit down to the belt he holds taught between both hands. What the fuck is he planning to do with that? Whip me with it ?

"What would you do for your Crown Prince, hm?"

This feels like a trick question, and despite my usual quick brain, even that can't untangle the fuckery that's happening right now, or what Nick has to do with it.

But I know I can't lose him.

So I shake my hair from my shoulders and raise my chin. "Anything."

Jesse gives me a mollified grin. "That's what I thought."

A wave of power hits me, and I stumble back, the force of it staggering. My Scylla heads rear up and goes absolutely feral. The power feels familiar, though it's tainted with Jesse's signature, something that feels akin to thousands of electrical shocks. But I know where I've felt power like this. I felt it with Nick. With Hades and Persephone.

Everything finally clicks into place.

Jesse, the boy I've known since I'm six years old. The boy who pretended to be my friend. Who pretended to love me. Who pretended to be oblivious to what I am, all the while knowing exactly who I was, and hid what he is.

A demigod.

He's not what he says he is. Kassi's warning rings sharp and true, the consequences of my miscalculation a blaring alarm I misconstrued until it was too late.

It had never been about Nick.

I'm so distracted by the wave of power and this revelation that I miss the brown leather belt transforming into something shiny and silver.

Chains.

And I'm too slow to react when those chains wrap around my wrists and cut off my power.

"I'm really sorry about this, Rhi." Jesse's face is the last thing I see before something hard slams into the back of my head, and darkness swallows me.