She could feel his questions building in the air between them. She just hoped he didn’t ask them.
Minthe returned looking pissed, and that filled Persephone with glee, especially since the nymph had been so sure Hades would turn them away.
She lifted her chin and said tightly, “Follow me.”
Persephone thought about telling Minthe she didn’t need a guide, but Adonis was here, and he was already curious. She didn’t want him knowing she had been here yesterday, or about her contract with the God of the Dead.
Persephone offered Adonis a glance before following Minthe up the same set of twisting stairs she’d followed Hades up yesterday, and to the ornate gold and black doors of Hades office. Adonis offered a low whistle.
Today she focused on the gold rather than the flowers, thinking it fitting he would choose gold. He was the God of Precious Metals.
Minthe didn’t knock before she entered Hades’ office. She strode ahead, her hips swaying. Perhaps she hoped to hold Hades’ attention—but Persephone felt his gaze on her the moment she entered the room. He tracked her like prey. He stood near the windows, and she wondered how long he had been watching them below.
Judging by how rigid he stood, she guessed he’d been there a while.
Unlike yesterday when she had demanded entrance into Nevernight, Hades appearance was pristine. He was an elegant chasm of darkness, and she might have thought to be terrified if she wasn’t so angry with him.
Minthe paused and nodded. “Persephone, my lord.”
Her tone had taken on that sultry edge again. Persephone imagined she used it when she wanted to bend men to her will. Perhaps she forgot Hades was a god. She shifted, turning to face Persephone again, standing just behind the god.
“And...her friend, Adonis,” she added.
It was at the mention of Adonis, that Hades eyes finally left Persephone, and she felt released from a spell. Hades gaze slid to her counterpart and darkened before he nodded to Minthe.
“You are dismissed, Minthe. Thank you.”
Once she was gone, Hades moved to fill a glass with brown liquid from a crystal decanter. He did not ask them to sit or if they wanted any. It wasn’t a good sign. He intended this meeting to be very short.
“To what do I owe this...intrusion?” he asked.
Her eyes narrowed at the word. She wanted to ask him the same—because that’s what he’d done, intruded on her life.
“Lord Hades,” she said, and took her notebook out of her purse. She’d written down the names of every victim who had called New Athens News with a complaint. “Adonis and I are from New Athens News. We have been investigating several complaints about you and wondered if you might comment.”
He lifted the glass to his lips and sipped but said nothing. Beside her, Adonis offered a nervous laugh. “Persephone is investigating,” he said. “I’m just…here for moral support.”
She glared at him. Coward.
“Is that a list of my offenses?” His eyes were dark and void of emotion. She wondered if this was how he welcomed souls into his world.
She ignored his question and read a few of the names on the list. After a moment, she looked up.
“Do you remember these people?”
He took a languid sip of his liquor. “I remember every soul.”
“And every bargain?”
His eyes narrowed and he studied her a moment before asking, “The point, Persephone. Get to the point. You’ve had no trouble of it in the past, why now?”
She felt Adonis look at her, and she glared at Hades, her face flush with anger. He made it sound like they’d known each other far longer than two days.
“You agree to offer mortals whatever they desire if they gamble with you and win.”
“Not all mortals and not all desires,” he said.
“Oh, forgive me, you are selective in the lives you destroy.”