Persephone socked him again, and he doubled over, laughing twice as hard. She was the only creature in the world allowed to raise a hand to him, and he loved every moment of it.
Persephone’s eyes flashed. “Pull your head out of your pants for ten seconds. She’s here about the pact.”
That got his attention. “My pact?”
“Is there any other?”
A wicked smile slid across his mouth. “Oh, now this is interesting. What is it you want, little queen?”
The gynaíka took two steps closer, then stopped. Fear flashed in her eyes, but she lifted her chin, looking every bit the regal queen she could become. “I—I ask that your pact be broken. Or at the very least, postponed.”
He lifted one eyebrow as he drew his queen to his side, amused at the Argolean’s audacity. “And why should I do that?”
“Because…” The gynaíka swallowed. “Because I’m one half of the prophecy.”
Well, duh. He’d already figured that out, but he was intrigued enough to hear the rest of what she had to say. “And the other half?”
“My sister.”
“And let me guess,” he said, slowly running his hand up and down Persephone’s spine. “You’ve come to ask me to spare the human’s life.”
“She’s not just a human. She’s a Misos.”
“Even better.” Hades scoffed. “Useless. I don’t know why your kind can’t keep their pants zipped.” Persephone punched him in the arm. His head swiveled in her direction. “Do that once more, wife, and I’ll make you pay.”
Desire lit her eyes. “Promise?”
He growled low in his throat and leaned in to take her mouth again.
The Argolean’s coughing brought his head up in irritation. He pinned the exasperating creature with a look. “Why in all that is evil in my realm are you still here?”
“Hades,” Persephone warned.
He sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting inside his queen until he appeased her and dealt with this situation first. “Very well. You do realize the ramifications of this, correct?”
The gynaíka nodded.
“And you realize that by interfering, you set events into motion that cannot be undone?”
The gynaíka hesitated, looked between them and nodded again.
Hades shrugged. “Fine. Your human’s life is spared.” The gynaíka breathed out a sigh of relief. “But not without a price.”
“But Persephone said—”
He nuzzled his queen’s jaw. “What ever bargain you struck with my conniving wife is between the two of you. I still require payment. One soul. Yours or hers. I don’t care which.”
“Now?”
“Now could be interesting,” he said, smiling down at his wife, “but the time isn’t of my choosing.”
The gynaíka looked as if she would be ill. Which pleased him. It very much pleased him.
“Well?” he asked. “What do you say?”
She glanced at her hands, seemed to struggle with some internal debate, then closed her eyes. “Mine,” she whispered.
His laughter bubbled up from the depths of his soul as his eyes ran up and down her slight and very feminine body. Oh, what he would enjoy doing to her, with Persephone’s approval or not.
“Make yourself comfortable, little queen.” His hand slid down to Persephone’s ass. “The show’s about to begin.”
The gynaíka’s eyes snapped open, and shock registered in her fine features, igniting a whole new set of bargains in his head. Ones that involved not only him, but his wife as well. “I’m not going home?”
“Not yet.” Hades’s smile widened. Catching on, Persephone’s did too. “Not yet. Not until we’re both done with you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
She smelled lavender. And leather. And something she thought had to be thyme.
Which was strange, because thyme wasn’t a scent she could normally stomach. Today it smelled like heaven.
Casey drew a deep breath and tried to roll over. A stabbing pain in her side kept her from getting too far, and she pried her eyes open, wondering just what the heck was going on.
The first thing she noticed was the fire roaring in the massive marble fireplace across the room. A quick glance down and she realized she was in a bed with crisp white sheets and a fluffy comforter. She was clean, her toes were toasty, her pillow was soft, but this wasn’t a room she’d ever been in before.
She tried to sit up as her brain slowly came back on line. The last thing she remembered was being in that tree, the daemon shaking it vigorously, her fingers slipping and…
She turned her head and saw Theron asleep in an armchair next to her bed.
His hair was damp, as if he’d recently showered, and he was dressed in faded jeans and a tight black T-shirt. His perfect feet were bare, propped up on the side of the mattress, his head tipped to the side, his eyes closed as he caught a few z’s. He looked like an angel fast asleep, and try as she might to squelch it, Casey’s heart did a little flip at the sight of him.
On closer examination she saw the bruises and nicks on his arms and face and remembered back to the way he’d fought in the clearing. Then realized this was no angel. He was a warrior. And somehow, he’d rescued her again.