Hades blanched. “What are you talking about?”
Leuce huffed a sigh. “She had a panic attack while we were out because of something that happened to her friend. The one in the hospital. It scared her, Hades. I don’t have much, but I wanted to help, so excuse me for trying!”
“You sent her to Iniquity for help,” he said.
Despite the fact that Leuce had not been in the modern world long, she understood the purpose of Iniquity and knew it was not a place he’d want Persephone to know about. It was hard for him to believe that she thought sending her there was a sound decision, rather than believing it might create a divide. “You could have had coffee!”
“We did, you idiot bastard!” Leuce seethed. “How dare you think a hot drink will cure what she’s going through!”
There was no curing this, he wanted to yell. Therein lay the problem—
Persephone was grieving.
“You expect me to believe you sent Persephone to a Magi because you wanted to help?”
“What are you suggesting?”
“That you sent her into a trap!”
“Because I could never do something nice for someone, is that it?”
“How many times do I have to say, sending Persephone to a Magi was dangerous. Not to mention you knew I would find out. Were you hoping to create a divide between us?”
She had already tried once when she had introduced herself as his lover.
Hades had suspected then that her intention was to cause trouble. Why should he believe any differently now?
“This is why our relationship never worked! You never trusted me.”
“Obviously, I had good reason.”
Leuce turned and reached for the nearest object—a winged statue—which she flung at Hades, who dodged it. “Get out!” she yelled as it crashed into the wall behind him.
Hades straightened slowly, glaring at Leuce.
“Fine, but mark my words, Leuce. I will find out who you are working for. In the meantime, stay away from Persephone.”
*
Upon leaving Leuce’s apartment, Hades returned to the Underworld and now stood among fifty heads of snowy-white cattle. When he had taken them from Helios, he’d only intended to choose the best among his herd, but he had run out of time, so he’d stolen them all. Later, Helios would refuse to drive his golden chariot through the sky if Hades did not return them, and Zeus thought it such a threat that he called Council over the ordeal.
In the end, Hades refused to return the cattle, and the sun still shone.
Though, Hades had to admit, he did not exactly understand what it meant to suddenly own fifty new animals.
“You all stink,” he said. “I will never understand why Helios likes all of you so much.”
“I think they’re wonderful,” Hecate had said when he brought them back.
She’d been so ecstatic, she’d named each one and made garlands for their necks, though Hades could not tell them apart. Now all he really needed was to choose the best among them so he could lure Helios into helping him locate the Graeae and maybe even Medusa, though he feared bringing up the powerful gorgon. He did not trust the God of the Sun.
How did one choose a prized cow?
He turned in a circle while they grazed around him, looking for signs of superiority, but he was at a loss. They were all the same color and the same build, as if Helios had merely made clones. Perhaps this was a job for Hecate, who seemed to appreciate the finer details and differences of the animals she took responsibility for, though before he could summon her, his eyes caught on Thanatos approaching almost apprehensively.
It was strange enough that Hades stopped and stared. Thanatos’s presence was always vibrant despite his black robes and his pale face and hair, and while he never looked particularly overjoyed, he did always look serene and peaceful.
Except today.
Today he looked stricken, which put Hades on edge.
“Thanatos,” he said as the god drew nearer, his heart hammering hard in his chest.
“Lord Hades. I…” Thanatos paused and took a breath, then began again.
“I went to see Lexa today. To…prepare for the next phase. It’s…almost time.”
Hades swallowed hard. He had no words, because there was nothing to say. As much as he did not want this for Persephone, it was the way of things. Lexa had made her decision, and it would be hard to grasp, given that Persephone would never quite understand why Lexa would choose to leave her.
“While I was there, Persephone…”
Thanatos’s voice trailed off, and instead of speaking, he chose to project his magic into Hades’s mind. What he saw play out before him shocked him. He could see Persephone through Thanatos’s eyes, demanding, “You’re working. I want to know who you’re here to take. ”
“I can’t tell you that,” Thanatos responded.
Persephone’s gaze flashed, and three words slipped from her mouth like a weapon.
“I command you. ”
“Persephone. ” Hades could hear the desperation in Thanatos’s voice.
Those words had hurt the God of Death because they had communicated Persephone’s mistrust of him, and despite the fact that she did not want Lexa’s soul reaped, all Thanatos was trying to do was make the process comforting.
“I won’t let you take her,” Persephone snapped.
“If there were another way—”
Thanatos felt desperate to communicate to Persephone, to help her understand he was not the enemy but Lexa’s advocate, and her soul had called to him, had decided it was time to leave.
“There is another way, and it involves you leaving! ”
Then she pushed him, and Hades did not know whose shock he felt more acutely—Thanatos’s or his own.
“Get out. ”
“Enough!” Hades shouted, and the images vanished from his mind.
A heavy silence followed. Hades stood still as a stone, processing what he had just seen. His feelings raged, a storm of emotions that he couldn’t quite place. In that moment, he had seen Persephone’s raw fear, but he had also seen a side of her that was angry and a little manipulative.
The greater issue was that she was still trying to stop Lexa’s inevitable death.
“How long does she have?” Hades asked.
“A day,” Thanatos replied. “Maybe two.”
Another long bout of silence.
“She’s ready, Hades,” Thanatos added softly, and the note in his voice was exhausted.
Hades could just imagine that was how Lexa felt. She was tired.
He could do nothing but nod.
“Reap when you are ready, Thanatos,” Hades instructed. And I will deal with Persephone, he thought, even as he dreaded the encounter. She would not understand, though there was a part of him that did not understand either. He liked Lexa, knew that she was a good friend to Persephone.
Every interaction they’d had was fun and pleasant. Despite this, the girl still wanted to leave, but Hades was not one to deny pure souls, and he would not deny this one rest, even if it hurt Persephone more than anything in the world.
Hades approached Thanatos, placing a hand on his shoulder. He had hoped it was a reassuring gesture, but the contact only made his dread deepen because he could sense the chaotic emotions in the god’s energy.
“I’m sorry, Hades,” Thanatos said, and it was a reminder that despite their familiarity with death, some things never got any easier.
Hades left the meadow and made his return to the palace on foot to give himself time to process what he had seen through Thanatos’s eyes. By the time he made it to the throne room, he was no closer to releasing that strange frustration, disappointment, and pain. He considered how often he had talked to Persephone about this, how he’d attempted to prepare her for the possibility of Lexa’s death and still she seemed determined to prevent it, and that worried him far more than anything else, because she had already tried to bargain in exchange for Lexa’s life.