“That’s not the problem.” Man, she was tired. She shuffled to the bed and sank down on the edge of the mattress. “The problem is your mate.”
Lilliana’s hand froze as she reached for a grape on the platter of food. “What do you mean?”
“You should probably ask him.” Cat’s lids grew heavy, and she felt herself sway. “Why am I so sleepy?”
“The tea.” Lilliana helped ease Cat back on the bed. “It’s made from Sora root. It’ll help you rest.”
Rest would be good. Maybe in her dreams she and Hades could finally be together.
The thing about dying was that it made a guy think about his life. What he’d done with it. What he could potentially do with it in the future. And as an immortal, Hades’s future could be really long. And really lonely.
The thought of living one more day the way he’d lived the last five thousand years made him want to throw up as he prowled the length of his crypt until he swore the soles of his boots cried out for mercy.
Azagoth had left him hours ago with all kinds of assurances that Cat wouldn’t be harshly punished for what she’d done. But Azagoth’s idea of “harsh” was a lot different from Hades’s. Well, not usually, but for Cat, definitely.
Hades just hoped Azagoth hadn’t suspected that anything had gone on between them. Technically, Hades hadn’t gone against Azagoth’s orders, but the Grim Reaper wasn’t a fan of technicalities. And if he did anything to punish Cat for what Hades had done, Hades would fight that bastard until he was too dead to fix.
Snarling, Hades threw his fist into the wall. Never, not in his entire life, had he felt this way about a female. Hell, he hadn’t felt this way about anything. Oh, he’d always been passionate about meting out justice, but this was a different kind of passion. This was an all-consuming desire to be with someone. To be something better for that someone.
He hadn’t known Cat for long, but in their brief time together, he’d shared things he’d always kept private. He’d given comfort and had been comforted. He’d wanted, and he’d been wanted back.
She wants to go back to Heaven, idiot.
Yeah, then there was that. The chances of going back were extremely slim, given that in all of angelic existence, only a handful of fallen angels had been offered the opportunity. But just the fact that she wanted to go was troubling.
Oh, he understood. Who would choose to live in the grim darkness of the underworld when they could flit around in light and luxury? But dammit, Cat was wanted down here. Could he make her see that?
Closing his eyes, he braced his forehead on the cool stone wall he’d just punched. Pain wracked him and not just because he’d broken bones in his hand and they were knitting together with agonizing speed. That pain was nothing compared to the ache in his heart.
He needed to be with Cat, but how? He supposed he could try reasoning with Azagoth. Sometimes the guy wasn’t completely unbending. Especially now that he had Lilliana. She’d leveled him out, had given him a new perspective on life and relationships.
But would it be enough?
Because one thing was certain. If Hades couldn’t have Cat in his life, then Azagoth had saved it for nothing.
Chapter Sixteen
Cat dreamed of Hades.
It was so real, so sexy, that when she woke, she was both heartbroken to find herself alone in bed and turned on by the things they’d done in her dream. She let her hand drift down her stomach, her mind clinging to the images that had played in her head like an erotic movie. She could almost feel the lash of his tongue between her legs as her fingers dipped beneath the fabric of her panties.
Oh, yes. If she couldn’t have him right now, in her bed, she could at least––
Someone knocked on the door, and then Lilliana’s voice filtered through the thick wood. “Cat? Are you awake?”
Cat groaned. “No.”
Lilliana’s soft chuckle drifted into the room. “Azagoth wants to see you in his library.”
A cold fist of oh shit squeezed her heart, and so much for her libido. It was more dead than Hades had been yesterday.
“I’ll be right there,” she called out.
It took her less than five minutes to dress in a pair of cut-off shorts and a tank top––she wanted as much skin exposed as possible in hopes that she could sense Azagoth’s level of anger in the form of evil. Not that knowing would help her any, but it could at least mentally prepare her for disintegration or something.
Gut churning, she hurried to his library, finding it empty. She took a seat in one of the plush leather chairs, and just as she settled in, Azagoth entered.