Persephone stood frozen, entranced.
The air around her was hot, heavy, and scented with vanilla. She inhaled it, and it filled her veins like her magic, shivering through her body, heating her skin. She rolled her neck and shoulders, loosening tense muscles, relaxing into the music. The part of her mind that told her to be on edge was fading.
A hand slipped into hers and she twisted to find Leuce standing behind her. She didn’t speak, just pulled Persephone along the back wall into a darkened hallway.
“This place—” Persephone breathed.
“Is meant to ensnare, Persephone,” Leuce placed her hands on either side of the goddess’s face. “Keep your wits about you and focus on your task. The air here is toxic. It will draw you in, a current you can’t escape.”
“That would have been great information to have before I got here,” she said, a little irritated.
The nymph smiled. “There’s nothing I could have done to prepare you. You are either strong-willed or not. It’s how they will choose you.”
Persephone focused on the nymph. Her ice-white eyes were intense. It was then she noted how the girl was dressed. Her white hair was curled and styled. She wore bright red lipstick, and her outfit was a short silver tassel dress that shimmered like all the stars in the sky. She looked like one of the dancers on stage.
“You work here?”
Again, it was information she would have liked to have before arriving here, but Leuce didn’t seem to think it was important.
“Focus on your task, Persephone. You wanted this, remember?”
That almost sounded like a threat.
She glared at the woman, eyes flashing. She suddenly wished to remind Leuce of who she really was.
“Then tell me what to do. How do I ensure they see me?”
“You dance,” Leuce answered. “If they’re interested, they’ll come to you.”
Persephone glanced over her shoulder where hundreds of people were crammed together on the floor.
“Are you telling me all these people are here for the same thing?”
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“Not the same thing,” she said. “But they’re here because they want something.”
“Leuce, what else goes on here other than illegal magic?”
“That’s not a conversation you want to have, Persephone. Trust me.”
She was gone then, and Persephone was swallowed by the crowd. For a few seconds, it was like fighting a current, graceless and panicked, but like earlier, she found there was something bewitching about the music. It seemed to dance along her skin, seep through her pours, until she moved with the beat, rocking her hips and raising her arms over her head. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and images of sensual nights with Hades reeled through her head—his soft mouth on hers, his silken tongue lapping at sensitive skin, his body glistening and hot, his cock filling, stretching, demanding. Her breath was short, and a moan escaped from her mouth.
She felt rabid, starved, desperate.
It got worse.
Her memories were suddenly infiltrated by another face—it wasn’t her body beneath Hades’—it was Leuce, her back was arched, her head thrown back, her mouth open as she screamed her lover’s name.
It was enough to break the spell the music had cast upon Persephone. Suddenly, she was aware of her surroundings again—the bodies crowded her, their sweat-soaked skin brushing hers.
Hands gripped her hips and a body moved behind her. She turned to face a man dressed in dark clothing, and in the red light, his eyes were black. At first, she wondered if he was here to summon her, but his hand remained fastened on her hips. She pushed him back, intending to break contact with him, when another set of hands clasped her shoulders.
Persephone wrenched from his grip, her heart raced, her magic igniting in her blood, but as she turned to look at the other person who had touched her, both men disappeared into the crowd.
Unnerved, she pushed through the mass of people until she reached the outer edge of the dance floor. She sought darkness, wishing to become shadow, and she found it as she rested against a wall at the mouth of a hallway.
Her body still shook from the memories she’d recalled on the dance floor. She was both aroused and pissed. What sort of horrible magic encouraged such salacious thoughts? And why had they morphed into something that made her want to vomit? She didn’t want to think of Leuce and Hades together. She didn’t want to think that what they had in common was that they both knew Hades’ body so well.