Hot as Hades (4 page)

The black surface shimmered and then began to swirl, galaxies drifting across it, until a face he hadn’t seen in centuries—which wasn’t long enough—appeared. “Is that any way to talk to your brother?”

“It is when I’ve been cursed with you.”

“Tsk, tsk. That world you live in has completely stripped you of all pleasantries. Here, let me help. Hello, Hades. How have you been? It’s been, what, a few hundred years?”

“Cut that out. I want to know one thing and one thing only…did you send this Persephone to me? Are you preventing me from sending her out of here?”

“Yes and yes.”

Hades opened his mouth and closed it, completely unprepared for that fast and calm
mea culpa
. “I… What?”

“Hear me out, Hades. She’s in danger. I had no choice.”

Hades dropped into his chair. “Make it fast.”

“I discovered a bit of a contest amongst some of the younger gods.”

“With Persephone as what, the prize?”

“Well, yes. You know how they are.” Zeus laughed. “We were like that once, all full of boasting and competition.”

Zeus and Poseidon had been. Hades had never been young.

“Since when do you care about some other deity, Zeus?”

“You wound me. Though you’re right, normally I’d be all for chasing a maiden, but Persephone has a power that is much needed by the humans, and I couldn’t risk that she be damaged. You see, the competition wasn’t just to woo her…but to take her.”

Take her
? Hades blood started to simmer. “Take her how?”

Zeus made a face. And if anything-goes Zeus was making a face, it must not have been pretty. “You know.”

“Rape her.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Yes. And then hold her captive for the others.”

Hades cracked his knuckles. “I want names.” All that soft, supple flesh, that delightful spark of spirit that had defied him so boldly, crushed beneath the heels of some renegade gods? Not a chance.

“Relax, brother. I’m sorting it all out. Give me a little time. In the interim, shelter Persephone down there, would you?”

Keep her with him? That wasn’t a hardship. He had had far less attractive and tempting morsels in his private abode.

She won’t see it that way.

No, she would be scared and terrified of the thought of being trapped with him, even if it saved her from a fate worse than death. Hell, to her, he probably was the fate worse than death.

“Hey, Hades, you there?” Zeus was snapping his fingers.

He jerked to attention. “Fine. I’ll keep her.”

“Keep? Now, be careful. Persephone may be a good-looking piece but don’t go getting any ideas about trying to steal her away from us. She’s pretty vital to the Earth and the mortals.” Zeus’s hearty laugh couldn’t hide the flash of warning in his eyes.

The unspoken threat raised Hades’s hackles. He bared his teeth. “I wouldn’t dream of it. I have a few terms for you, though. Remove the block that kept me from sending her back and tell me how you managed to get her past my shield.” Every security system had vulnerabilities, but he made his as close to impenetrable as possible. Besides, no one in any world would get away with shorting his powers.

Zeus frowned. “I’m sorry, did you say something?” The picture faded in and out rapidly. “You’re…cutting…out…”

“Son of a bitch, Zeus, don’t you dare…”

“I’ll give you a ring when it’s all clear on this end. Toodles.”

“Zeus—” Too late. The ball went black, and Hades knew the other god wouldn’t answer again until he was good and ready.

Only the clearing of Middle’s throat stopped him from hurling the sphere against the wall. He tried to control his temper around his servants, not that he often succeeded.

“Sire, what is the plan then?”

“She stays.” Damn it, his body certainly liked that idea.

“Shall I tell my lady?”

He hesitated. He really ought to let Cerberus go and inform her, but that perverse, irritating part of him that couldn’t stop himself from wanting the unattainable female roared to life. He stood. “No. I’ll take care of it.”

“Very good, sire. Um. Might I be so bold as to warn you to watch out for the flowers?”

Chapter Three

Hades understood Cerberus’s cryptic words when he neared the red room. A long vine sprouting the most unusual flowers snaked along the granite floor. He knelt and touched the petal of a bloom, finding it velvety smooth and warm, as if it had sprouted from the ground in some sun-drenched garden and not from the stone floor of his palace.

Intrigued, he followed the vegetation all the way to where it disappeared, sure enough, under the door of the red room. Was this his new visitor’s version of a trail of breadcrumbs?

He grasped the doorknob and was about to push it open when he had second thoughts.
Knock first.
That was what civilized people did, right? Before he could call himself a fool, he gave two rapid knocks to the heavy wood. It was awarded, to his surprise, by a meek, “Come in.”

He shoved the door open and raised a brow. Had he thought the vine odd? It was nothing compared to the tropically scented paradise that had bloomed in Persephone’s room. Plants of all kinds had sprouted, seemingly from the walls and floors, wrapping around the four posts of the bed, entwining with the gas chandelier. Most were flower bearing, bringing bursts of greens and pinks and blues and yellows. The unusual rainbow profusion was a reminder of the stark colors of his world.

In the center of this new garden sat Persephone, curled up with her back to him on the window seat, chin in her hand. Had there been a window there, she would have been gazing out of it. As it was, she was staring at a black wall, her profile in sharp relief. “Did you bring me news, Cerberus?”

Ah. She assumed he was his manservant. That explained her relaxed posture. For the first time he wished his body, glorious as it was, was really a three-headed dog, if that put her at ease. “It is I. And yes, I have news.”

His voice made her back stiffen—with loathing he presumed—and she straightened and half turned to look at him. He held up his hand to stop her from scrambling to stand. “Please sit.”

She subsided back in her seat and stared at him, eyes big and haunting, so fresh and lovely it made his back teeth ache with want. Unable to speak and look at her at the same time, he focused on a point over her left shoulder. “I spoke with Zeus. He said…”

“That he was the one who sent me here. I know.” Her tone was flat.

His never-ending suspicion niggled. “How do you know?”

“He came to me, was standing where you are now.”

Hades checked the urge to move away from the spot. “He was here bodily?”

“No. He was translucent.”

That was something, he supposed, but if Zeus had managed to send Persephone and a shade of himself here, it wouldn’t be any great hardship to send his corporeal self here eventually. That wouldn’t be tolerated. Hades liked to limit his involvement in cosmic showdowns.
Note to self: prioritize revamping security system.

But first, he had to handle his guest. “And you know why he sent you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re taking the news pretty well.” There were no tears or disbelief or anger or accusations of fabrication.

She curled her legs beneath her, her skirt making a waterfall off the seat. “Trust me, this is nothing new.”

He took advantage of her sudden lack of hostility to probe further. “The gods often try to rape you?”

“It’s not me they want. You see, I’m easy.”

“I beg to differ.” If she was easy, neither of them would be clothed right now, and he’d probably be a lot happier.

Did he imagine the twitch of her lips? “No. I mean, I may be a goddess, but I was raised by mortals, and Demeter has only had time to develop the powers of mine that are most necessary to the world and to her. The other gods know this.” She turned back to the faux window and propped her chin in her hand. A new tendril broke off from the vine nearest her head and slowly unfurled until it was long enough to drape over her shoulders, as if it were giving her a hug.

“I see.” No wonder she couldn’t materialize clothes or escape the bonds he’d put on her. Despite her well of power, she had no idea how to manipulate it. Most gods with powers that deep were taught early on exactly what they could do with it. “What, ah…” He sidestepped a plant that was slithering toward his ankle. “What exactly are you the goddess of?”

“Vegetation.”

Demeter, you smart cookie.
His cold and self-serving sister wasn’t the type to adopt orphans unless something was in it for her. Demeter was the goddess of the harvest, so Persephone’s untapped power would correlate and balance hers.

“I know. You don’t have to say it.” Persephone faced him again and shook her head. “Aphrodite has beauty and Artemis has war and Athena has wisdom, and what do I have?” She flung her arms wide, as if to encompass the room. “A green thumb. Useless, I tell you.”

“Well. I wouldn’t say that.” Oh dear gods, were her eyes wet with tears? No, no. Give him a screaming female over a crying one any day of the week. He looked around the room at the sudden greenhouse. “Vegetation is very…important.”

“I’m sorry about all this growth. I do it subconsciously when I’m upset or sad or mad… I can’t help it.” Persephone wiped at her eyes. “No wonder I’m an easy target. No one would make a contest out of me if I was stronger. Zeus wouldn’t have even been able to fling me down here without my consent.”

Privately, he disagreed with her. Over the years his powers had grown in leaps and bounds. Though he didn’t keep extremely close tabs on all of the original six, he assumed theirs had as well.

Her loud sniff brought him back to the here and now. Panic crept up his throat. He needed to get away before she broke down.
Run.
“I’m going to… I should go do some work.”

She seemed to shrink. “Of course. I’m sorry for all of this.”

“It’s fine.”

“I know now that you had no say in any of this. I apologize for screeching at you earlier, and for accusing you of all sorts of horrible stuff.”

So few beings ever showed him gratitude, the emotion made him feel like he was breaking out in hives. “That’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” She peered up at him, all earnest and sweet. “It’s kind of you to help me.”

He resisted the urge to claw at his skin. “No one’s ever accused me of being kind.”

“You’re letting me stay in your home.”

“I have no choice,” he reminded her brutally. “Zeus has prohibited me from sending you out, remember?”

“You could kill me.”

The words lay between them, heavy and stark. She rose from her seat and sauntered over to him. Her skin gleamed in the firelight, her eyes too smart as they searched his face. “Why didn’t you kill me, Hades?”

His hands clenched at his sides, a move that didn’t go unnoticed by her. Let her think he was trying to keep from wringing her neck, and not the truth—he was trying to keep from stroking that soft skin. “The option is still on the table.”

Her lips curved. “No, it’s not, or you would have done it already.”

Damn her. “Listen, female. Don’t go getting any kind of romanticized notions about me, got it?” He stalked closer, until they were nose to nose. Or nose to chest—he had to lean down to truly look her in the eyes.

Bigger, badder creatures than she had backed away when confronted with his gaze. Not her. She met it, confusing and angering and, hell yes, arousing him. “I’m not romanticizing anything. I’m simply thanking you for giving me sanctuary and apologizing for my shameful earlier behavior.”

“I could still kill you, you know.” He sounded like a whining, petulant child.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her face was sober, but he knew he wasn’t imagining the laughter in her tone. “I promise I’ll keep out of your way while I’m here.”

“Good. You…do that.”

“I will.”

“Good.”

“You already said that.”

Hades stared at her, feeling stupid. He fucking hated to feel stupid. He also hated to not have the last word. “Just…stay. In your room.” He turned and stalked out of the room before he could make a greater fool of himself.

She didn’t stay.

For the next week, Persephone seemed to be everywhere and anywhere in his palace. A typical goddess might have lazed around in her luxurious room, but of course he got an industrious, bustling female. He learned from Bob, who she’d taken a liking to much to the disgust of Cerberus’s other two heads, that at home she often worked in her gardens from sunup ’til sundown.

Since his palace floated in the Underworld, he had no garden, but it didn’t take long for Persephone to scurry around his home as if she owned it. He couldn’t get away from her. He found her studying the books in his library, polishing silver in his dining room, leaving the baths looking wet and sultry from the heat. She always greeted him with a warm smile and tried to converse with him as if he were a normal god and not the terror of godlings everywhere. When she wasn’t around, her flowers and her scent filled the room.

Despite their close quarters, he did his best to avoid talking to her, which if he wasn’t mistaken only increased their run-ins and made her more determined to chatter at him. He responded with grunts and one-word sentences and stalked away as quickly as possible. Any more interaction and he feared he would rip her dress off and throw her to the ground. Or press her up against the wall. Or toss her on the table. Or…really, any flat surface was fair game.

His fingers literally itched when he was around her. Never had he felt so utterly driven to possess a female, one he was fully aware was off limits. Fuck her and then have her sobbing that it was rape? That might enhance his already fearsome reputation, but he wasn’t going to go around feeling like a bastard. No thanks.

So it was understandable why he found himself creeping like a criminal in his own home one morning.
I should lock her up
, he thought grimly as he stuck to the shadows of the hall, ears perked for the soft shuffle of feminine slippers or her lilting laugh as she chatted with Bob. He considered confining the goddess to her room about twelve times every day. Keep her in one place so he’d never have to see her beautiful face or smell those damn flowers that followed her everywhere or hear her laughter ringing through his stark, silent halls. It was still a possibility.