“She’ll fight. She’ll pull through,” Jaison said aloud as if he was trying to convince them and himself.
It was Eliska who returned to get them and show them to Lexa’s room. As they followed her, Persephone couldn’t stop staring. Lexa looked a lot like her mother. They had the same thick, black hair and blue eyes and sometimes the same expressions.
When Persephone entered, her gaze went straight to Lexa. It was hard to describe how she felt seeing her best friend under all that equipment. It was a little like having an out of body experience. Lexa was still as stone and barely visible under layers of tubes and cords running into her like the Threads of Fate. They bound her in place and right now, they bound her to life. A thick white cloth lay across her forehead, and a neck brace propped her chin up high. Her ventilator sounded like a constant exhale and the heart monitor pulsed a steady beat. These were things that even this room—made up with colorful walls, monochrome flooring, and modern touches—couldn’t disguise. This was a place where people came because they were sick or hurt or dying.
Persephone reached for Lexa’s hand. She was cold, and for some reason, that surprised her. She noted all the ways her best friend didn’t quite look like herself, her swollen face, her bruised skin, her colorless lips.
While they were gathered around her, a nurse entered the room, checking monitors, tubes, and entering information into a computer.
“There’s nothing else they can do,” she heard Lexa’s mother saying. “It’s really up to her now.”
Persephone squeezed Lexa’s hand. She didn’t squeeze hers back.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there watching Lexa, but there was a point when she realized she needed to leave. The room was too small, and Lexa’s parents needed privacy.
Once outside the room, Sybil turned to Persephone.
“Are you going to see Hades?”
She nodded.
“Will you ask him to save her?”
It was like someone had stabbed her in the stomach and twisted the blade.
“I will do what I can,” she answered.
Once Persephone was out of view, she risked teleportation and ended up in the alley beside Nevernight. It was dark and wet and smelled rancid. She rushed to the entrance where Mekonnen stood guard. When he saw her, he smiled, showing crooked and yellow teeth, but he quickly realized something was wrong. His grin vanished and he set his shoulders, seeming to grow larger, as if preparing to fight.
“My lady, is everything okay?” His words were rough, a hint of the monster he kept at bay.
“Hades,” she said, her breath was short. “I need him. Quickly!”
Mekonnen fumbled and opened the door. She rushed inside, immediately suffocated by the hot air and loud music.
She paused as she entered the club. She didn’t know where Hades was—he could be in the lounge, betting with mortals or in his office, sitting behind that pristine desk, or in the Underworld playing catch with Cerberus.
She hurried down the stairs and cut across the crowded floor. She felt frantic, like she was running out of time, but that was the problem. She didn’t know how much time she had. She nearly slammed into a waitress holding a massive tray of drinks. If it had been another day, she would have apologized, but she was on a mission. Instead, she continued through the crowd, pushing people aside, and ramming into shoulders. One man turned, scowling, and grabbed her arm, jerking her around to face him. “What the hell—?”
When he saw her face, he let her go as if she were venomous.
“Oh, fuck!”
A second later, an ogre materialized beside him and he was dragged from his table and into the dark of the club.
Persephone took the steps two at a time and decided to check Hades’ office first. When she threw open the doors, Hades was already across the room, as if he’d felt her distress and headed straight for it.
“Persephone.”
“Hades! You have to help! Please—”
She choked on a sob. She had thought she was okay, that she could at least get through this. It was the most important part, asking Hades for help. Except it wasn’t, and just as she started to speak, her emotions burst from her like a dam, raw and painful and untamed.
Hades caught her in his arms, holding her close as her whole body shook. His hands tangled into her hair, fitting against the base of her head. She’d have liked to stay there, sobbing in his arms, comforted by his strength and his heat. She was exhausted, but it was then she realized they weren’t alone.
There was a man bound to a chair in the middle of Hades’ office. He was gagged, his eyes were wide, and she got the impression he was trying to get her attention by screaming as loud as he could.
“Hades—”