A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)

She’d unwittingly managed to manipulate Hades into benefiting her cause, and he resented it—but he would find a way to get back at the goddess. She would regret her entanglement in his life.

In the meantime, Ilias had prepared Zofie for her assignment. They’d agreed that she would keep her distance by using a particular power Hades had been surprised to learn she possessed—the power of shape-shifting.

The power itself was not unusual; he’d just not expected the Amazon to morph into an average white cat. Still, it meant Zofie could keep a close and discreet eye on Persephone, which gave Hades peace of mind considering they were currently not speaking. As much as he wanted to, he did not know how to move forward yet. Apologies seemed too trivial here, but perhaps that was the only way to begin again.

“Are you even listening?” There was an edge to the voice that brought Hades out of his thoughts, and he met a pair of brown eyes. They were set in the face of a mortal man with dark, curly hair and thick glasses. He was Hades’s first bargain of the night, and potentially his last.

He could not focus on this right now.

“No,” Hades admitted, and as hard as it was, he offered an apology.

“I’m…sorry. Please continue.”

The young man’s lips were pressed thin, a reflection of his anger, but he sighed and continued. Before Hades had zoned out, the man had explained that his grandmother had been his guardian since the age of five and she was now dying.

“The doctor has given her two months to live,” he said. “Please…she’s all I have.”

Hades frowned at the young man. “I will not bargain for the life of a soul,” he said, and though they were the words he always used to deny a request like this, they were harder and more painful to say this time.

His rejection just seemed to spur the mortal on.

“Then I need to bargain for something else,” the man said, searching for ideas. “The money to get her the care and medicine she needs. Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Have you asked your grandmother what she wants?” Hades interrupted him.

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Have you asked your grandmother if she is at peace with dying?”

“She doesn’t want to leave me,” he said defensively.

“I did not ask you if she wanted to leave you,” Hades said. “I asked if she is at peace with dying.”

The mortal did not respond.

Hades rose to his feet. “Ask her. Respect her answer.”

It was what he wished he had told Persephone.

He left the suite and headed into the lounge, where mortals were gathered beneath low light playing poker, blackjack, and roulette among other games.

“Will you take another contract?” Ilias asked, coming to stand beside him.

“No, no more tonight,” Hades replied.

Ilias nodded. “Then I’d like you to meet me at the Grove in an hour.”

Hades raised a questioning brow.

“This is something you have to see,” the satyr promised.

Hades did not question him beyond that and left the lounge. As he passed Euryale, the gorgon inhaled, her head rising, casting light over her scarred and blindfolded eyes.

“Troubled, Lord Hades?” she asked.

“More than you can imagine, Euryale,” he said, continuing to the balcony that overlooked the floor of Nevernight.

As he looked down at the floor, he recalled the first time he had seen Persephone. If she had existed during the Trojan War, it would have been her beauty that had launched a thousand ships.

She’d sat with Lexa, Sybil, and Adonis. He remembered worrying over whether she liked Adonis and if she’d leave with him, though he had known then he wouldn’t let her leave because the urge to claim her, to mark her, almost sent him to her side then. He had been both bewildered and disturbed by his fierce need for her and had returned to the Underworld only to find that her thread was woven with his—that she was his fate, and even now, in the face of all this pain and anguish, he did not want it any other way.

He sighed, rubbing a spot just over his heart that felt tense and knotted, when his phone rang. When he saw the caller was Antoni, he answered with dread in his stomach, because this likely had something to do with Persephone.

“Yes?”

“Ha-Hades?” Antoni asked.

“Who else, Antoni?” he asked, frustrated already.

The cyclops laughed nervously. “Of course, my lord. I am sorry, my lord.

It’s just…uh…I was on my way to pick up Persephone, you see? At the Pearl where she insisted on going after work, and…uh…she’s gone.”

“Gone? ” Hades repeated.

“She just…vanished. Zofie said she was there one moment and gone the next.”

“Fuck,” Hades said under his breath. He hadn’t considered that Zofie likely could not follow when Apollo chose to call on his bargain with Persephone.

“Where is Zofie?”

“She’s…with me.”

Hades was quiet for a long moment as he attempted to locate Persephone through her magic, but the connection was dead, which only added to his irritation.

“Wh-what would you like us to do?” Antoni asked.

“It’s likely you can do nothing,” Hades said, though he would try to send Ilias’s team to search for her. There were a number of clubs Apollo was known to frequent.

“We’re sorry, my lord,” Antoni said.

He sighed, frustrated, and then managed, “How is Zofie?”

“Ah, well, she’s…I think she expects to be… murdered.”

“Tell her it isn’t time yet,” Hades replied and hung up.

He seethed for a moment, his frustration renewed, though he was less angry at Persephone than he was at the situation she’d put herself in. She was at the mercy of another god, and as much as he hated that, he knew she hated it more.

Hades did ask Ilias to send a few of his men out to search the various clubs for Apollo while he did his best to stay occupied as he waited for

Persephone’s magic to flare to life once more, and when it did, he teleported, appearing in her room. He heard voices coming from the living room—Sybil, Zofie, and Antoni.

“What did Apollo make you do?” he heard Sybil ask, and he held his breath as she answered.

“He wanted me to judge a karaoke contest,” Persephone replied. “And he threw a fit when I did not choose him as the winner.”

Hades felt a sense of pride that she had refused to name Apollo as the winner, though anxiety quickly followed at the thought of what he’d do in retaliation.

“Tell me you didn’t, Persephone,” Sybil said, sounding shocked. “Apollo does not lose.”

“Well, he did tonight,” she replied smugly. “He could not hold a candle to Marsyas. I doubt he will be eager to have me judge him again. He ended the night with a kick to the balls.”

A smile curled Hades’s lips.

She was definitely the opposite of Leuce.

There was a beat of silence.

“Any updates on Lexa?” Persephone asked. It was a question delivered with care and a little trepidation as if she feared the answer, though she knew it would not be death.

“She was still asleep when I visited,” Sybil answered.

Another bout of silence followed, and there was an energy running through him that made him impatient to see her. He had no idea what kind of struggle she had faced when Apollo had snatched her to do his bidding, had no idea what sort of stress and anxiety she was feeling in the aftermath of Lexa’s… healing…but it did not sound good or pleasant.

“I’m going to bed,” Persephone said after a while. “See you guys tomorrow.”

She noticed him immediately upon entering her room and closed the door.

She did not pause in surprise or hesitate to be alone with him.

“How long have you been here?” she asked.

“Not long,” he said.

There was a pause as she threw her purse on the bed. “You know what happened?”

“I overheard, yes.”

She swallowed and asked in a quiet voice, “Are you angry?”

“Yes, but not with you.”

He took two steps forward, which brought him close enough to touch her.

He placed his hands on her arms, swept them up to her shoulders, and then touched her face. Her skin was warm, and she smelled like vanilla and lavender—pleasant and sweet.

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