My Life From Hell (23 page)

I would have spoken up had it been me.
Yeah, like you did about your situation with Kai these past few months.

That was different. At least I’d tried.
Not very hard.

I put a smackdown on the negativity. I was different and this proved it. Persephone and I were never going to be aligned. Couldn’t even understand how the other moved through the world. Hekate’s decree to get in sync with my goddess self seemed impossible.

I set the cup down on the bedside table, the coffee off-putting. This morning’s events were just more extremely pressing reasons to find Prometheus and get Aletheia here. I swung my legs onto the ground and stood.

Then I went to her closet, doubtful about finding something to wear that wasn’t totally unacceptable. Surprisingly, the selection wasn’t horrible. Just predictable.

Flip … long flowy gown … Flip … long flowy gown … Flip … somewhat shorter flowy gown …

I scrambled into the most bearable choice: a light blue dress that was—wait for it—flowy, hitting about mid-thigh. I paired it with black, flat sandals, and headed out.

My priorities: find Prometheus, get Aletheia to reveal Kiki’s enchantment, take Theo and Kai to the exit, and make sure it was in exitable condition, in order to stop Hades and Zeus.

See where things stand with Hannah. Say good-bye to Theo.

One thing at a time.

I pulled my hand away from my cuff, not wanting the reminder of Hannah. I forced myself to stick to “find Prometheus” before I curled into a ball of dejection.

I marched down the stairs, hoping I’d find Prometheus in the breakfast room. I had no idea which bedroom belonged to him. But I had memories of seeing him at breakfast, so that’s where I started. Also, it was no hardship to follow the smell of bacon.

I swept into the bright room and skidded to a stop at the sight of Hades hunched over a plate of food at a massive wooden table. He was dressed much like Kai had been yesterday, in dark linen pants and button up shirt. The effect was nowhere near as fabulous, but he did have a compelling charm of his own.

The way Hades’ eyes burned into me, I was positive he’d realized I was actually Sophie.

“Yes?” His voice gave away nothing.

He was still waiting for an answer so I said the first thing that came into my head. “I’m hungry.” My stomach rumbled and I blushed beet red.

To my shock, Hades actually laughed. “Even the Goddess of Spring suffers the same base needs as the rest of us.” He flung an arm out toward the full buffet, where silver chafing dishes promised breakfasty delights.

I sighed happily. “Bacon.”

Hades raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually going to eat swine?”

I should have declined. I had no memory of Persephone eating anything other than the lightest of meals. Like fruit.

Screw that. “Nope. I’m going to feast on it.”

He dug into his own breakfast. “Help yourself.”

I intended to. I picked up a plate and began the joyous journey to discover what lay under each silver lid. Oh bliss! Oh taste bud heaven. Not only did I find bacon, but also eggs and light-as-air waffles. Sausages and tiny pan fried potatoes tossed with salt and oregano. I piled my plate high.

“You can get seconds,” Hades said in disbelief as I set everything down precariously on the table, willing my leaning Tower of Breakfast not to fall.

“I could. But that would be greedy.”

He laughed again. I did too. We blinked at each other in surprise.

Seriously. This was uncharted territory for me, Persephone, and Hades. We hastily returned to our breakfasts.

For a while, there was no sound other than eating. “Where’re all your suck ups?”

Hades eyes blazed from under his heavy eyebrows. “They leave me alone until I’ve had my coffee. Or get thrown in Tartarus.”

I stiffened.
Touchy.

“I’m kidding.” He shook his head. “No one ever gets when I’m kidding.”

He looks lonely.

No, see, I didn’t want to think that about him. Didn’t want to feel bad for him.
He wants humanity dead. Wants Earth destroyed.

I chewed on a sausage almost viciously, trying to hang on to my hatred. I thought about how he treated Kai. That helped. “Your son would get your humor. If you ever bothered with him.”

Hades scowled and slammed a fist down on the table, sending a crack out along the foot-thick wood like a ripple in a pond.

I clamped my knees together so they couldn’t shake.

“Don’t ever talk to me about my son. You’ve made him soft. Whipped him around your little finger. After all I’ve done …”

Now I was indignant. “Ignored him? Insulted him? Emotionally abused him?”

Hades tilted his chin up, the gesture haughty and proud. “I made sure he survived.”

Understanding took my breath away. In his own twisted way, Hades
loved
his son. He really thought he was being a good father. Just like Zeus had thought that sending minions to kill me if I didn’t fall in line counted as tough love.

No wonder Kai didn’t break the passive-aggressive stalemate with Persephone. Because as much as Persephone had been raised to never disappoint, Kai had been raised to be tough. To show he was strong. To play a different predetermined role. They were locked into a dynamic they wouldn’t, couldn’t, break. To break it was to speak up, and make themselves vulnerable.

And vulnerable was unacceptable. Instead, they both pretended everything was fine.

I bowed my head, busying myself with pushing food around my plate and studying Hades through lowered lashes, while my thoughts spilled over each other. Did Hades act that way toward Kai because taunts and mockery were the only connection he knew how to make? And if I took that thought further, did this entire war between Hades and Zeus boil down to the fact that fighting each other was the only way they could stay connected?

If that were true, messed up as it was, it was still sad. Man, I didn’t want to feel compassion for the old goat. “Don’t you want more for Kyrillos than just survival?”

Hades sneered at me. “Awww, does he need a hug?”

And back to thinking you’re an ass.
“You don’t need to be such a jerk.” I took a grim satisfaction at his startled expression. I’d talked back to the Lord of the Underworld.

Hades pushed to his feet and gave me a low, mocking bow. “I will throw a party celebrating the greatness that is my son. How about that?” I tried not to be too subtle in conveying my thoughts on his doucheyness.

But Hades wasn’t paying me any attention. He zoned out for a moment, and then pronounced, “I
will
throw a party. A masquerade ball starting at midnight before the equinox.” His gaze turned distant and soft. “He used to like parties.”

I choked on a bite of food at seeing this side of him. Which swung his attention back to me.

Hades’ eyes gleamed and he smiled slowly. “Such an art to picking the right mask, don’t you think? The wrong one can reveal so much more than it conceals.” He swept from the room, bellowing for some creature or another to start the planning.

Games and roles and masks and agendas. Give me high school backstabbing any day.

On the upside, my belly was full and I’d survived my first encounter with Hades. Maybe my luck would hold in finding Prometheus. My chair scraped over the flagstones as I stood.

Crossing to the door, I heard a chirping. I looked around, expecting some trapped little bird but there was nothing. I took a couple more steps. The noise got louder. More insistent.

Another look around. This time I found the source. A gray gecko with brown spots and brilliant green eyes clung to the wall, close to the ground. I bent down to peer at him. “Hey, little guy.” I would have dismissed him as a cute wildlife encounter when I realized what his presence meant.

Demeter was here.

The gecko was her messenger. I knew it. I remembered it. These creatures were considered sacred to her. And whenever she’d wanted to meet Persephone in the Underworld, she’d used one of them to arrange a meeting.

I narrowed my eyes. “Mother dearest wants to see me, does she?” My palms started to sweat and I tugged at the neckline of my dress. I swear it had shrunk and was the reason I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

My first time seeing Demeter while she was still the loving mother of legend? How nerve wracking was that? What if I ended up blubbering the whole time? Or punching her? Either was possible.

And since refusing the summons was not an option, I was about to find out which it would be.

Fourteen

One of the many fun facts now at my disposal with the return of Persephone’s memories was that while in the Underworld, she and Demeter had always met in Tartarus. Not exactly the field trip I wanted to take.

Ever.

I stifled a half-panicked breath.
Calm
…

I had to meet with Demeter. This was my chance to make sure she didn’t end up wanting to murder Persephone. Therefore, I would be the absolute delight that she expected. “Lead on,” I told the gecko.

He crawled out of the room, and I obediently followed.

The gecko hugged the low edge of the wall, leading me through the palace via its twisty back hallways. He had an unerring sense of timing, turning into corridors just as voices faded off ahead of us and feet padded away.

He moved fast for a little guy too, never stopping to see if I was keeping up. Which I was, but barely. When we stepped outside, I was only dimly aware of the heat beating down on my head, and the ticklish twitching in my nose from the acrid tang of the dry grass.

Between the nerves and the total focus on not losing my tiny guide, I didn’t realize we’d reached Tartarus until the overpowering smell of sulphur had me gagging. I flung an arm up to cover my nose and mouth, but the scent was insidious. It snaked its putrid way inside me.

My lizard leader came to a stop. Before us was a bronze fence that stretched up and away as far as the eye could see.

I glanced down at the gecko. “Couldn’t you bring her out here?”

He waggled his head at me.

Uncertain, I placed one hand against the fence’s ridged surface, and practically buckled as the cries of the damned knocked the breath from me.

Tearing my hand off that gate was like trying to detach myself from the strongest magnet ever. Every molecule of me felt stuck, plastered to it in despair for all eternity. It magnified every self-criticism, every negative thought and fear into infinity.

Instrument of our destruction. Instrument of our destruction.

The mocking laughter from my vision filled my ears.

I slid down the fence, the skin on my legs pricking sharply as I hit a tangle of thorns. The pricking crept down my ankle, getting more frequent. Dully, I glanced down to find the gecko nipping at me.

I could almost hear him chittering at me to get up.

It was crazy hard but I managed to stagger to my feet. The gecko kept up his chatter, nipping at me every few feet to make sure I didn’t stop.

My limbs felt heavy, my gait sluggish. I was doing a pretty excellent zombie shuffle.

The gecko prodded me along for a bit, finally stopping at a gap in the fence. No, a small door that stood ajar. He ran through it.

I don’t know how Persephone had managed to keep coming here, because I couldn’t make myself take that first step into Tartarus. I had to take my hands, wrap them around my leg, lift it up, and set my foot down a step ahead. Over and over again. I stared at the ground, my willpower taxed to its limit.

The heavy clunk of the door shutting behind me let me know I’d made it through.

Unwillingly, resentfully, apprehensively, I looked around. Everything was black. From the mud on the ground, to the air itself.

Black roses with deadly thorns grew in wild tangles—the only foliage I could see. They looked like the drawing Jennifer had made for my tattoo. Guess I knew what I’d been channeling when I’d asked for them. Fleetingly, I wondered if I’d ever go back and get artwork that really suited me.