*
Ariadne’s file felt heavy in Hades’s hands, and while he was curious to figure out what exactly Dionysus was up to, he also wanted to proceed cautiously. The God of the Vine was neither an enemy nor an ally, though he represented a part of Hades’s past he did not really like to recall. Still, this was the second time Dionysus had come up within a week.
He was up to something.
Hades took the folder to his office at Nevernight for safekeeping until he could meet with Ilias, then he teleported to Alexandria Tower. He used his glamour to remain unseen among his staff. He wanted to locate Persephone uninhibited, which was easy given that she was in his territory. He could feel her presence just the same as when she was in the Underworld. It was comforting to have her near, and the tension that had crept into his muscles while speaking with Ariadne lessened.
“Here it is!” he heard Lexa say as she walked ahead of Persephone into his office. Persephone stood in the doorway, her head tilting up and around as she took in the space. He wondered what she was thinking—probably something sarcastic about how he never used this office, though he’d like to make use of it now that she was here.
“Lexa,” a woman called from her cubicle. “Have you finished the posters for the gala?”
Hades appreciated the interruption, as it left Persephone alone and Lexa occupied.
He made his way into his office, still undetected. She had moved beyond his desk, which he kept free of clutter, save a vase of white narcissus Ivy insisted on refreshing daily…and a picture of her. He had taken it when she was unaware as she wandered in the gardens outside his palace. He could recall exactly why he’d been drawn to capture the moment too…because she’d looked so perfect among his flowers, and he remembered not understanding how he’d gone so long without her presence among them.
The picture was a reminder of his awe that she was his.
Persephone reached for it, and Hades appeared behind her.
“Curious?”
Persephone startled, and the frame fell from her hand. Hades reached around her and caught it, returning it to its place on his desk before she turned toward him.
There was so little space between them, Hades could feel the brush of her breasts as she breathed.
“How long have you been here?”
Hades raised his brows. “Always suspicious.”
She was wary of his power of invisibility, and while he did not blame her, he had promised not to use it to spy on her, and he had held to that, except for today, though spying had not been his intention.
“Hades—”
“Not long,” he assured her, wondering if she was merely embarrassed by the fact that she’d been caught looking at his things. “I received a frantic call from Ivy, who chastised me for not letting her know you were stopping by.”
She started to smile, then her brows furrowed. “You have a phone?”
“For work, yes.”
“Why didn’t I know that?” There was an edge to her voice, more frustrated than suspicious.
“If I want you, I will find you.” He did not need modern technology to locate her, just magic.
“And what if I want you?” That question was innocent enough and shouldn’t have made him feel anything at all, but the idea that she might ask him for help—and accept it—sent a strange sort of thrill through him.
“Then you have only to say my name.”
The hope that had swelled in his chest quickly dissipated with her frown, an expression he matched.
“You are displeased.”
“You embarrassed me,” she murmured, staring at his chest.
Hades lifted her chin so he could study her face. He did not understand.
“Explain.”
She took a breath, like she was warring with herself, but her frustration won out. “I should not have to learn about all your charities through someone else. I feel like everyone around me knows more about you than I do.”
No one knew more than she did, except, perhaps, Hecate, who sometimes obtained information via her spells, something Hades considered a nuisance.
“You never asked.”
And had there been a time to even bring up the matter of his business ventures? Though he supposed he should have anticipated that others would be eager to disclose elements of his life to her. Aphrodite had done the same when she had told Persephone of their bargain.
“Some things can be brought up casually, Hades. At dinner, for instance: Hi, honey. How was your day? Mine was good. The billion-dollar charities I own help kids and dogs and humanity!”
Honey? That was not a name he had tried out before.
Her words amused him, and as the corners of his mouth lifted, Persephone placed a finger to his lips. He had the very primal urge to take it into his mouth.
“Don’t you dare. I am serious about this. If you wish for me to be seen as more than a lover, then I need more from you. A… history…an inventory of your life. Something.”
She was asking to know him, to understand him better. He could not deny that thought gave him anxiety. What if she did not like all parts of him? As he knew she wouldn’t.
He took her hand and kissed her fingers.
“I’m sorry. It did not occur to me to tell you. I have existed so long alone, made every decision alone. I am not used to sharing anything with anyone.”
It was the truth, especially his past. He had never placed much value in reliving it.
“Hades.” She said his name quietly and placed her hand on his cheek.
“You were never alone, and you certainly aren’t alone now.”
He liked her words, even if they were only half true. When she dropped her hand, she took her warmth, and he was eager to have it back, though she had moved, putting distance between them by stepping out from between him and the desk.
“Now.” She turned to look at him, planting her hands on the desk. “What else do you own?”
“Lots of morgues,” he said.
Persephone stared for a moment. Her mouth opened as if she were going to speak, then she closed it again. Finally she asked, “You’re serious?”
“I am the God of the Dead.”
Her eyes brightened, and a beautiful smile broke across her face.
“Tell me,” he said, rounding the desk to be closer to her. “What else can I share with you now?”
She had turned toward him as he approached, and a pleasing tension grew between them. Persephone hesitated for a moment, then touched the picture on his desk.
“Where did you get this?”
He wasn’t sure why he stayed quiet so long. Perhaps it was because he could not read exactly how she felt about the photo, but it also meant revealing a part of himself he had never shared with anyone at all.
“I took it.”
“When?” A note of surprise colored her voice.
He smirked, humored. “Obviously when you weren’t looking.”
She rolled her eyes, and he drew closer. He wanted to take her mouth into a punishing kiss and worship her on this desk, though he knew her thoughts were much more wholesome.
“Why do you have pictures of me and I do not have pictures of you?”
“I did not know you wanted pictures of me.”
“Of course I want pictures of you.”
“I may be able to oblige. What kind of pictures do you want?”
“You are insatiable,” she said, hitting his shoulder playfully.
Hades’s hands locked on her waist, and he pulled her toward him, their bodies colliding hip to hip. “And you are to blame, my queen,” he said, mouth falling to her neck, his tongue touching her skin as he kissed down to her shoulder. “I’m glad you are here.”
“I couldn’t tell,” she said mildly. A tremor made her body vibrate beneath his hands.
He pulled back, but only enough to meet her gaze. His mouth lingered near hers as he spoke, hushed. “I’ve wanted to pleasure you in this room, on this desk, since I met you. It will be the most productive thing that happens here.”
“You have glass walls, Hades.” Her tone matched his, wavering.
“Are you trying to deter me?”
She tilted her head, her hands pressing into his chest, not to push him away but because he was holding her tighter.