She stepped off the bus in yoga pants and a tank. She’d pulled her long hair into a messy bun at the start of her study session and hadn’t bothered to even look in the mirror. She was only thinking about it now because a line of glamorous people were waiting to enter Hades’ club and staring at her like she had talons and wings.
You aren’t here to impress anyone, she reminded herself. Just get in there and get to the Underworld as soon as possible.
She hadn’t wanted to waste time running home to change just to water a garden, and the thought of squeezing into a dress and heels at this
point in the day made her cringe. Hades would just have to deal with it.
She adjusted the straps of her heavy backpack, wincing at the soreness in her shoulders, and marched toward the door.
Mekonnen emerged from the dark. He wore a scowl until he recognized her and then a charming, yellow smile spread across his face.
“My lady—I mean, Persephone,” he said, reaching for the door.
“Good evening, Mekonnen.” She grinned at the ogre as she passed into the club.
Persephone paused in the dark foyer. She preferred not to enter the club proper and decided to teleport. She snapped her fingers and expected to feel the familiar shift in the air around her.
But nothing happened.
She tried again.
Still nothing.
Frustrated, she decided she would go to Hades’ office and enter the Underworld there. She kept her head down as she cut through the packed floor of the club. She knew people were staring. She could feel her face growing flush with their judgment.
A hand clamped down on her shoulder. She turned, expecting to find an ogre or another one of Hades’ employees. She imagined they were stopping her because of the way she was dressed. An argument was poised on the tip of her tongue, but when she turned, she looked into a familiar pair of gold eyes.
“Hermes,” she said, relieved. Even glamoured up, he was ridiculously handsome. His golden hair was perfectly styled—shorn on the sides, long curls on the top. He wore a white shirt and grey pants, a drink already in hand.
“Sephy!” he exclaimed. “What are you wearing?”
She looked down at herself, though she didn’t need to. She knew perfectly well what she was wearing.
“I just came from class.”
“College chic,” he raised his golden brows. “Hot.”
She rolled her eyes and twisted away from him, making her way toward the steps. The God of Trickery followed.
“What are you doing here?” Persephone asked.
“Well, I am the messenger of the gods,” he said.
“No, what are you doing here? On the floor of Nevernight?” she clarified.
“Gods gamble, too, Sephy,” he answered.
“Don’t call me that,” she said. “And why would gods gamble with Hades?”
“For the thrill,” Hermes said with a mischievous smile.
Persephone topped the stairs with Hermes in tow.
“Where are we going, Sephy?”
She thought it was funny that he included himself in that statement.
“I am going to Hades office,” she answered.