A Touch of Chaos (24 page)

“Don't say that,” she said.

He didn't want to scare her. It was just the truth.

“How do we stop him?” she asked.

“I don't know.”

He had been thinking about it since Theseus had taunted him with the news of his father's release in the labyrinth. They had succeeded before because the Olympians had been united against the Titans and because Zeus had his lightning bolt, Poseidon, his trident, and Hades, the Helm of Darkness.

Now, the Olympians were divided. Some did not even have magic, and the Helm of Darkness was in Theseus's possession.

Not that Cronos would fall for those tactics again. They would have to think of something different and soon, but he also knew that he could not face his father with this wound. If he was being honest, it hurt, worse even than it had the day before, and he knew it would get to the point where he could not ignore it any longer. It was impacting his ability to plan.

Persephone turned on her heels.

“Persephone?” he called.

She did not stop.

“Persephone, where are you going?” he asked, catching up with her in the hall. She did not slow her quick stride.

“To get ready,” she said.

“For?”

“If we are going to defeat Cronos, we need the Golden Fleece,” she said.

“And do you have a plan to retrieve it?” he asked, though he did not disagree with her. He would need to be at full strength if he was going to face his father in battle.

“I already told you my plan,” she said.

He paused for a moment at the top of the steps while she continued down, practically sailing.

Already told me?

It took him a moment to recall their brief conversation from yesterday. Gods, he hated how much his wound was affecting him. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then he remembered—Zeus had offered his shield in exchange for her.

He teleported to the base of the steps, just as she reached the bottom.

“Get out of my way, Hades,” she said as she tried to sidestep him, but he planted his hands on her waist. “We don't have time for this!”

“You will not trade yourself for the Golden Fleece!” Hades snapped.

“I'm not going to trade myself,” she said, glaring up at him. “I'm going to bargain.”

“Not with your fucking
life
.”

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a loud crunch, and when he looked over his shoulder, he found Hermes standing in the middle of the hallway, hugging a large bowl of popcorn, wearing only a pair of small floral boxers and a sheer pink robe lined with feathers.

“Is that…my robe?” Persephone asked.

Hermes was reaching back into the bowl as he looked down at his ensemble.

“Oh yeah,” he said. “I borrowed it. I didn't think you'd mind.”

“When?” Persephone asked, a demanding edge to her voice.

“When I got here.”

“And
when
did you get here, Hermes?” Hades asked, impatience threading through his voice.

Hermes tilted his head, stroking his chin as he thought—or pretended to at least. “You know, I can't really remember. Since I lost my powers, everything is just so.…
fuzzy
.” He paused, and then his face brightened. “Like this robe.” He lifted a feathery sleeve.

“You slept here?” Hades asked.

“Sure did,” Hermes said as he scratched his lower back and then stretched loudly, one arm lifting into the air as the other clutched the bucket of popcorn. “And let me just say, you really need to wash the sheets in your guest rooms and invest in Wi-Fi. I couldn't even watch the finale of
Titans After Dark
.”

“I am not interested in making your stay more comfortable.”

Hermes's mouth fell open as he scoffed. “But I am a guest!”

“There are no guests in the Underworld, Hermes. Only unwanted visitors.”

Hades tried to turn back to Persephone, but Hermes continued.

“Now that's just rude,” he said. “Do you know how hard it was to get here? I had to climb down a
mountain
, and I
hate
walking. I was
exhausted
, and then when I finally made it to your ugly palace and found a room, all I wanted to do was
sleep,
except I couldn't because as soon as I lay down on your dusty bed, I heard
you
.” Hermes turned his face toward the ceiling, arched his back, and threw out his arms, moaning loudly. Several kernels of popcorn went flying. “That's it! Ride like you are on my cock, darling!”

Hades raised a brow at the god's exaggerated display, though he supposed that answered his earlier question about when the god arrived.

Hermes straightened and popped another piece of popcorn into his mouth. “And I couldn't sleep because I couldn't stop wondering—what is she riding if she isn't on his cock?”

“My face, Hermes,” Hades said. “She was riding my face.”

“Oh my gods,” Persephone whispered.

Hermes's shoulders dropped in disappointment. “Well, that's not very creative.”

Maybe not, but it was the first time with Persephone in far too long, and it had felt fucking great, even as the wound on Hades's side continued to weep blood.

“Might I suggest—” Hermes began.

“
No
.” Hades and Persephone spoke in unison.

“You don't even know what I was going to say!”

“That's the point, Hermes,” said Hades.

“I don't even know why we're friends,” Hermes huffed.

Sometimes, Hades wasn't sure either.

Persephone took that opportunity to slide past him on the bottom stair.

“Persephone—”

He reached for her again, but she turned to face him, her eyes bright and determined.

“I'm going to Ares's island today,” she said. “We have to have the fleece. Harmonia is getting worse…and so are you.” Persephone looked pointedly at his side.

Hades stiffened, surprised that she knew. His reaction
seemed to confirm her suspicions though, and despite her frustration, he also saw her hurt.

Fuck. He didn't want to worry her, but he'd kept too much from her already.

He started to speak, but Hermes interrupted.

“Too bad you can't just trap Ares in a bronze jar again. He was gone for a whole year, imprisoned by giants, and only escaped because
I
rescued him.” He paused to pick some popcorn from between his teeth. “He still owes me for that.”

Hades and Persephone both stared.

“What?” he asked.

“Ares owes you a favor?” Persephone asked.

“Yeah, like, from
ancient
times,” Hermes said, still oblivious to what Hades and Persephone were thinking.

“Hermes,” Persephone said, taking a step forward. “I need you to use your favor with Ares to get the Golden Fleece.”

“What?” he asked. “No.”

“Hermes, please,” Persephone said. “I will grant you favor in return. I will—”

“It isn't
about
the favor. It's about Ares. His island is one giant booby trap!” He paused and chuckled. “I've always wanted to use those words.”

“I am glad you still have your sense of humor in the face of Harmonia dying,” said Hades, barely biting back his anger.

“The point is, Hades, I am very much mortal right now, and because it is my favor, I have to go. What if
I
die?”

“I'll protect you,” Hades said.

Hermes's lips parted. “I've waited my whole life to hear those words,” he said, shivering.

“And you can wear the Girdle of Hippolyta,” said Persephone.

Hades looked at her, surprised that she had it. She noticed his gaze.

“Hippolyta gave it to me at Zofie's funeral,” she explained. “She said something about an agreement you made for it.”

He could hear the accusation in her voice, clearly unhappy with the way she'd discovered that bit of information. He had never really expected her to find out about the girdle…or Theseus for that matter, but he was suddenly realizing that he might have protected her too much.

She turned back to Hermes. “At least you'll have immortal strength.”

“What the fuck is a girdle, and why does it sound ugly?” Hermes asked.

“Think of it as a corset,” Persephone said.

“Hmm,” the god said. “I am intrigued. Give it to me.”

“Not until we leave,” Persephone said. She turned and headed down the hall toward their bedroom, calling out as she went, “Be ready in an hour!”

“I like Queen Sephy,” said Hermes. “She's like…old Sephy but angrier.”

She was angry—the result of watching those she loved hurt. In some ways, Hades mourned the fact that she had to witness any of this, but they both knew it was her anger that fueled her power.

And it was her anger that would save them.

Hermes's chewing drew Hades's attention again, and he looked at the God of Mischief.

“Popcorn?” he offered.

Hades reached into the bowl and took some. He held Hermes's gaze as he popped it into his mouth. The popcorn was buttery and melted on his tongue.

“Hmm, not bad,” he said, then licked his fingers.

Hermes looked a little dazed, and he swallowed. “Now you're just being mean,” he said.

Hades chuckled and headed down the hall. “One hour, Hermes.”

Persephone was just buttoning her jeans when Hades entered the room. She was trying hard to breathe through her frustration, knowing that only a few hours earlier, he'd brought his mother to the Underworld, but it was difficult, because if he'd had the choice, he wouldn't have admitted that his wound had worsened. After all they'd been through, he was still keeping the truth from her.

“You're upset,” Hades said.

For some reason, that made her even angrier. She gritted her teeth and refused to look at him.

“Persephone,” he said as she reached for the shirt that she'd tossed on the bed.

“I don't want to talk about it,” she said, sliding the tank over her head.

“I didn't tell you how I was feeling because I didn't want you to worry,” he said.

She froze and looked at him and let her anger blossom. She had warned him.

“You didn't want to worry me?” she asked. “Did you think the worry just stops and starts on your command?”

He was still and expressionless, but Persephone got the sense that he realized how stupid he sounded.

“You
never
tell the truth,” she said.

His expression darkened. His anger slammed into her, a quick and violent thing.

“I haven't lied to you,” he said.

“You don't have to lie to not tell the truth,” she said and then shook her head. She almost felt unable to communicate how this had made her feel, but she needed to say it all the same. “I recognized it when I found out about Theseus's favor,” she said, noting how Hades's body seemed to grow rigid. “And in the moment, it was shocking but nothing compared to what followed, so I didn't think long on it. But then there was Zofie and the belt. Zofie who worked as my aegis. Zofie was my companion, and I knew nothing about how she came to be in your care, but I told myself to honor her privacy. Then I watched you argue with Ariadne, which made me realize that you have been involved in this fight with Theseus far longer than I ever knew. And now you pretend you aren't in pain from a wound that has become infected overnight. If you were concerned about my feelings at all, you would have told me. Everything. Because this…finding out like this, hurts worse than any of those things would have.”

Once the words were out, she felt less burdened. She had not realized how heavily they had been sitting on her heart until now, just building while she tried to survive. She was supposed to be his equal, his queen, but
instead, he coddled her. And he didn't seem to understand that his choices left her vulnerable.

Hades looked…haunted.

The silence between them was loud, almost unbearable. She felt as if a chasm separated them, and it was full of all his secrets, which honestly felt like lies, and Hades had to cross it or they would not survive.

“The wound hurts like a motherfucker,” he said at last. “And I haven't looked at it because I don't want to know the truth.”

Persephone just stared.

“I don't know why I didn't tell you any of those things,” he said. “Maybe I thought none of this would bleed into your life, that I could prevent it before it became
our
life, and then you would never have to know the horror of what is coming.”

Persephone took a step toward him. “When I chose you, I chose everything, Hades—your people, your realm, your enemies,” she said. “The only thing I fear is not having you at my side.”

Hades took her face between his hands and leaned closer.

“I am at your side,” he said. “I will never leave again.”

“Is that a promise?” she whispered. She knew it couldn't be, not really, yet she wanted him to say it all the same.

“It is an oath,” he said and brought his lips to hers.

Before they left for Ares's island, Persephone visited Harmonia. As soon as she walked into the room, she knew something was wrong. The air was stifling, thick
with sickness, and she was immediately reminded of visits to Lexa in the hospital.

It reminded her of death.

Dread built in the back of her throat, and then she saw Harmonia and went cold.

The goddess was pale, her lips colorless, and she was covered in a thin sheen of sweat.

Sybil lay beside her, and Aphrodite sat on the other side, while Opal was whimpering at her feet. They were both crying.

Hecate stood near, her expression sorrowful.

“No,” Persephone whispered.

“She is not yet gone,” said Hecate. “But it won't be long. I have done everything I can.”

“We'll get the fleece in time,” Persephone said.

I promise
, she wanted to add but could not bring herself to speak the words aloud.

Aphrodite shifted to face her, vigorously wiping tears from her swollen face.

“Be careful, Persephone,” she said. “Ares is a cruel god.”

Any hope Persephone had had that she might sway Ares with Aphrodite's suffering suddenly vanished at her warning.

“I thought he was your friend,” she said.

Aphrodite's gaze shifted to Harmonia as she answered in a whisper.

“Perhaps he isn't anymore.”

Hecate approached. “It is true that Ares is cruel, but he is also a coward. If you wound him, he will run.”

“I thought he was the God of Courage,” Persephone said.

Hecate smiled. “He is, but he is also the god of its opposite.”

Persephone left the suite. Once she stepped into the hallway, she felt like she could breathe again. The air was cool and cleansing, yet it did not ease her anxiety.

Harmonia had taken a turn for the worse and quickly.

Now she worried that Hades would too.

She continued down the hall and found her husband waiting in the foyer, and though she had expected him, she was surprised by the way he was dressed. He wore a pair of dark tactical pants and a gray shirt that only seemed to draw attention to his chest and shoulders. His hair was wet and pulled into a bun at the back of his head. It seemed ridiculous to say, but she found this version of Hades incredibly attractive.

She had expected him to show up in a suit, no matter how impractical.

“What is it?” Hades asked, suddenly concerned.

“What?” she asked, surfacing from her thoughts.

“You're staring. Is it the shirt?” he asked, pulling at the fabric. “Hermes said this would be appropriate.”

“It isn't the shirt, Hades,” Persephone said, laughing.

“She thinks you're hot, you idiot,” said Hermes as he approached. “For someone who gets laid so often, you are really fucking oblivious.”

He was wearing skintight biker shorts and a bright green shirt. Hippolyta's belt was cinched tight around his waist.

“Gods, you're like a fucking beacon,” said Hades. “Ares is going to see you coming from the shore.”

Hermes crossed his arms over his chest. “I didn't realize we were conducting a sneak attack.”

“Why are you wearing a fanny pack?” Persephone asked, noticing the small pouch hanging low on his waist.

“It's for my snacks,” he said.

They both stared.

“Judge all you want, but when you get hungry, I'm not sharing.”

“I hope we're not there long enough to
be
hungry,” Persephone said.

“How is that even possible? I am always hungry.”

Hades sighed as if he was already annoyed.

“When we arrive at the island, we will take every precaution. No killing, no teleporting. I do not wish to anger Ares any more than we already will just by being in his territory.”

“Would he risk divine punishment by denying a favor?” Persephone asked.

“I am more concerned that he will see you as a prize. I'd rather approach hospitably. Perhaps he will extend the same to us.”

“Yeah, right,” said Hermes. “Ares doesn't know the meaning of hospitality.”

“Let's just get this over with,” Hades said.

Persephone felt Hades's magic rise and wrap around her, familiar and dark, an electric energy that brought her comfort despite the dread she felt as they vanished.

“This is it?” Hermes asked.

They stood ankle-deep in the ocean, staring at Ares's island, which was far smaller than Persephone expected. It reminded her of a hill that had grown out of the ocean.
A shore scattered with rocks and clamshells led into a thicket of trees and beyond that, higher ground where all she could see was patchy earth.

“If he is using this place to try to impress people, no wonder he's single, because it is
dis-a-point-ouch
!”

Hermes jerked beside her, his hand clamping down on his shoulder.

“What the fuck?” he said as he plucked what looked like a dart from his arm. A perfect line of blood dripped down his golden skin.

“Is that a feather?” Persephone asked.

Hermes's face twisted into a look of disgust. He met Persephone's gaze and then jerked again as another feather-like dart struck his opposite shoulder.

“Seriously?” Hermes demanded.

“Fuck,” Hades said. “Not again.”

At first she was confused and then she noticed movement from the trees as a bird shot from the leafy canopy. It moved quickly, soaring like a spear launched by a god. It was followed by a second bird and then another, and suddenly, there were hundreds, and with them came a spray of thin, feathered darts.

“Wanna take back that rule about not killing anything, Hades?” Hermes asked.

“Run,” said Hades, grabbing Persephone's hand.

They took off across the shore toward a cluster of large rocks. Hades tried to shield her from the onslaught of needlelike barbs, but they were too numerous. She gritted her teeth as each one hit, pulling handfuls of feathery darts from her arms and legs as she ran, only finding relief when they managed to scramble behind the rocks, which the birds flew past in a dizzying blur of white.

Hades held her against him, his hands placed protectively over her head. For a few brief moments, all she could hear was the sound of the birds' violent cries and the whirring of their wings.

Then everything went quiet—except for her heart, which felt like it was going to beat out of her chest. Hades's, she noted, was unsurprisingly steady.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as Persephone reluctantly peeled herself away from him.

“No,” she said, wincing as he plucked a feather she had missed from her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Did you say
not again
?” Hermes demanded. “How many times have you been chased by assassin birds?”

“Three,” Hades replied. “If you count this one. Though these are relatively harmless comparatively.”

“Harmless?
Harmless
?” Hermes's face was turning pink. “Look at my ass, Hades. Does this look harmless?”

He turned to show his backside, which was covered in feathery darts. He looked like a peacock or maybe a porcupine, she couldn't decide, but it took everything in her to keep from giggling. She pressed her lips together and, when that didn't work, covered her mouth to hide it.