“I have to work, Hades. I have a life up there. Hades!”
He kept walking, though with each step, her magic surged, and in seconds, the harmless vines she’d sent his way earlier became thick thorns, rising from the broken floor to attack.
Hades turned quickly, dismissing her magic with a wave of his hand.
She stared, mouth ajar. After a moment, she swallowed, and there was a flash of something in her eyes that hurt his chest, a pain he did not understand but had seen in many mortals. It was the shock of suddenly understanding just how powerless she really was.
He let his hand fall, and despite everything inside him that wanted to go to her, to comfort her, he turned to leave once more.
As he did, she yelled after him, her voice breaking with a distinct crack he could feel in his heart. “You will regret this!”
At the door, he turned his head a fraction and answered, “I already do.”
When he stepped out of her room, he found Hecate waiting. The goddess’s eyes were glassy with anger. Hades wasn’t certain what had summoned her, but he had a feeling it had something do with the surge in Persephone’s magic.
“Don’t,” he warned, and while his voice did not waver, his insides shook.
He didn’t want to hear what Hecate would say, because he already knew he had fucked up. He knew it with every beat of his heart, but if he hadn’t gotten her out of the Upperworld and into his realm, there was no end to the list of the things Apollo might do.
At least here, she was safe—and he’d take that in the end, because the one thing he wouldn’t live without in this world was her, even if she hated him.
To her credit, Hecate said nothing, and Hades made a wide arc around her, leaving the palace altogether.
Chapter X
Bakkheia
Hades was distracted, his mind on the final moments before he’d left Persephone in the queen’s suite of his palace the night before. The broken note in her voice tortured his thoughts and clawed at his chest. That night, he’d watched her from his balcony, wandering through the garden. She fit so perfectly among those flowers, like his soul had known to make it for her before she existed.
Even then, with all the knowledge that their fates were entwined, he could not manage to talk to her, to make this rift between them right. In some twisted way, he feared comfort would only seem like he approved of her actions, and he wanted her to know the consequences of dealing with gods.
“My lord?” Antoni queried, and Hades looked up, meeting the cyclops’s gaze in the car’s rearview mirror. “Apologies. We have arrived. Would you like for me to wait for you?”
Hades had asked Antoni to take him to Bakkheia. He’d decided to put this anger to good use and confront Dionysus over his involvement with Acacius, and he preferred to arrive in a mortal fashion, as it would announce his presence. Not only that, but teleporting into a god’s territory was usually frowned upon, though Hades would have been able to do so, given that he shared control of the Upperworld with his brothers.
“That won’t be necessary,” Hades replied. He would choose a far quicker exit when he was ready to leave the God of Wine’s territory.
Antoni looked at him in the rearview mirror.
“Pardon the observation, my lord, but you seem…off tonight.”
That was an effective way to describe how he felt.
He was off. He had been since the night Persephone had confronted him about Leuce, and things had spiraled from there. Now he agonized, replaying every decision he’d made prior and since, and he felt ridiculous.
A horn blared as an impatient driver pulled in behind them, and Hades curled his fists at the sound.
“Apologies, Antoni,” Hades said and stepped out of his limo. As he did, he straightened his tie and turned his head toward the waiting car. The driver’s eyes widened, and he backed up into the vehicle behind him in an attempt to flee.
That was a satisfying enough punishment for Hades, and he strolled to the black doors of Bakkheia, illuminated on either side by strands of red light.
The bouncers, two large satyrs, allowed Hades past with only a nod, though he knew they’d already alerted Dionysus of his presence the moment he stepped out of the car. And while he hoped that meant he wouldn’t have to go in search of the god, he had a feeling Dionysus was going to make this very difficult.
Once Hades stepped through the doorway, he was greeted by a loud and crowded club. The music was so loud, it vibrated his bones. Red laser light cut through the darkness and billows of white smoke clouded the air. It was supposed to be hypnotizing, but Hades found it suffocating. He edged along the dance floor to the stairs and headed to the second floor, where it was quieter and far more intimate. A few people leaned over small tables, talking in hushed voices, while some shared space, taking up large plush chairs to kiss and explore. Then there were some who openly fucked, the darkness unable to mask the sounds of pleasurable intercourse.
No one seemed to mind, not the exhibitionism or the voyeurism, but Hades had no intention of lingering. Being on this floor reminded him of how badly he’d wanted to comfort Persephone when he’d taken her to the Underworld. He’d wanted to touch her, kiss her, caress her. He’d wanted her to find pleasure in his arms, but he’d left instead, and now the distance between them felt like a hopelessly deep and jarring chasm.
He continued down the hall, which was wide and full of seating. A wall of windows overlooked downtown New Athens, providing a glittering backdrop for the sin that took place here.
Dionysus had a unique repertoire of powers, among them the ability to inspire madness and ecstasy, and he could apply them to myriad situations —from the murderous to the erotic. It was no surprise, given that the god was the first to create wine, a drink responsible for lowering the inhibitions of many mortals. At the root of it, Dionysus was the cause for much disruption, and he reveled in the chaos.
It was just one reason Hades preferred to keep his distance, yet here he was, seeking him out for the discord he’d caused.
He came to the third floor, reserved for private suites. The hall was dark, and doors bearing red numbers ran the length of it. There was an energy to the air that put Hades on edge, and while he knew part of it had to do with being in another god’s territory, there was something darker beneath—a desperation that called to death. He may have ruled over that realm, but it was unnerving to feel how it lingered within these walls.
Hades paused before the seventh door and entered.
Inside, the suite was dim, but Hades did not need any more light to know what was occurring before him. Dionysus relaxed in a large chair, arms stretched out over the back, while a woman knelt between his legs, working her mouth and hands over his cock. There were other people in the room too, all engaged in various sexual acts, and Dionysus’s magic hung heavy in the air, magic that had worked these mortals into a frenzy, unable to think of anything but their carnal need to fuck.
“Hades,” Dionysus said in acknowledgment, and as he nodded, the gold coiled in his hair glinted in the light.
“Dionysus.”
“Excuse the display,” he said. “Just making sure everything is in working order, given I have been plagued with dreams of castration.”
“How unfortunate,” Hades commented.
He shrugged. “I quite like the pain.”
Of course he would, Hades thought.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Dionysus said with no hitch in his voice despite the woman’s vigorous work between his legs.
Hades was not surprised. “You’ve been busy, from what I hear.”
“What have you heard?”
Hades only waited a beat before responding. “A lot,” he replied.
“From which you have made a lot of assumptions.”
Hades raised a brow. “I do not assume,” he said, though there was an element of guilt that accompanied those words as he recalled how much he assumed when it came to Persephone.