“Outside,” she said.
“Zofie!”
“It is fine, my lady, I am resilient.”
“Resilient I have no doubt. I won’t have you sleeping outside—as a cat or otherwise. You can sleep on the couch for now.”
They would work out sleeping arrangements again once Lexa returned home. Sybil had taken Lexa’s bed for the time being, and it wasn’t likely Persephone would be sleeping in the Underworld for the next few weeks.
“I cannot sleep,” Zofie said.
“What do you mean?”
“I do not need sleep. Who will watch over you if I am not awake?”
“Zofie, I’ve survived this long without being abducted. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
But as the words left her mouth, she felt foreign magic grip her and the familiar pull of being sucked into a void.
Someone was forcing her to teleport.
“Zofie—”
The Amazon’s eyes widened, and the last thing she saw before she vanished was the determined look on Zofie’s face as she reached for her.
A second later, Persephone was thrust into the middle of a screaming crowd. The air around her was hazy and sticky. It smelled like tobacco and body odor.
“There she is!” Apollo wrapped an arm around her neck and hauled her against him. He was sweaty and dressed casually, in a polo shirt and jeans.
“What the actual fuck, Apollo?” Persephone demanded, pushing away savagely, but the god held her tight, pulling her along through the crowd toward a small stage at the front of the room. As he did, he turned his head toward hers, whispering against her ear.
“We had a bargain, Goddess.”
She hated the feel of his breath on her skin. She should have expected Apollo to abduct her at any given moment. It was a part of the deal she’d forgotten to clarify and now she regretted it.
She was thrust beneath bright lights, they blinded her and made the whole place appear darker, so it was hard to tell just how many people were in the crowd in front of her.
Apollo grabbed the mic and cried into it.
“Persephone Rosi, everyone! You may know her as Hades’ lover, but tonight, she’s our jury, judge, and executioner!”
The crowd cheered.
Apollo returned the mic to its cradle and reached for Persephone’s arm. She recoiled, but the god placed his hand on her back, guiding her to a chair to the side of the stage.
“Stop touching me, Apollo,” she said through her teeth.
“Stop acting like you don’t like me,” the god replied.
“I don’t. Liking you wasn’t part of the deal,” she snapped.
Apollo’s eyes flashed. “I’m not opposed to ending the bargain, Persephone, if you can live with the death of your friend.”
She glared and sat. Apollo smiled.
“Good girl. Now, you are going to sit here with a smile on that pretty face and judge this competition for me, got it?”
Apollo patted her face. She wanted to kick him in the balls, but refrained, gripping the edges of her chair. As he turned back to the crowd, they began to chant his name. The god encouraged this by pumping his arms in the air.