None of that explains Meg, though. She was surprised by the turn of events, which means she has no idea what Hades is planning. The thought of her being inadvertently hurt by this… Yeah, I’ll keep my mouth shut and pay attention until I know something for sure. If I think for a second Meg is in danger, then I’ll fight Hades, strange attraction to him or no.
Until then, I wait.
I don’t mean to fall asleep. I have every intention of getting up and making my way… somewhere. Back to my room, I guess. I’m in no shape to sling drinks right now. But the darkness behind my eyes gains new depth and pulls me down despite myself.
My last thought is how absurdly safe I feel right now, with two people who I most definitely shouldn’t trust.
Chapter 12
Meg
“What game are you playing, Hades?”
He strokes a hand down the back of my thigh, directly over the welts he striped there. A comforting touch and still a reminder of his power. Everything is like that with him, always has been. Layers upon layers. There are days when I’d give my right eye for him to just speak plainly. Just once. I already know his answer won’t satisfy before he says, “A deep one, love.”
I look down at Hercules. His body has gone slack with sleep, the adrenaline drop knocking him out as surely as any drug. If we can’t rouse him enough to get him down to his suite, he’ll end up here on the couch. It won’t be the first time something like this has happened, but my stomach twists at the thought of him waking up and thinking he’s been abandoned. “He’s an innocent.”
“He’s from Olympus. There are no innocents there, not in the circles he moved in.”
Finally, a hint at the truth. I should have made the connection the second Hercules picked that as his safe word, but I’d been too busy wallowing in anger and self-pity. I lean back enough so that I can see Hades’s face. “He’s too young to be connected to your exile.”
“Yes.”
No elaboration, and why would there be? Everyone thinks that Hades talks to me, that he divulges secrets to me and me alone. He used to, but that was a long time ago, before he started shutting me out. Now, when I’m actually trying to reach him despite every instinct screaming at me to protect myself, he’s still shutting me out. Frustration blooms in my chest, chasing away the last bit of buzz from the scene we just finished. “I wish you would just talk to me.”
He strokes my jaw. For a moment, the barriers between us disintegrate, and I can see how fucking tired he is. Tired down to his very soul. An exhaustion that could swallow mine. It’s only a moment, though. I blink and then he’s the enigma again, a soft smile playing at his lips. “Trust me, love. You never used to have such reservations when it came to following my lead.”
Hurt lances my chest, a deeper pain than the cane welts. Closed out yet again. A demand for trust that he stopped earning when he stopped talking to me. Did I really think this time would be different, that he would suddenly change his ways? I know better. A thousand times over. My throat burns, and I look away. “I’m very tired. I’d like to go to bed.”
For the briefest of hesitations, I think he may actually change his mind and let me in. But Hades just nods. “There’s a meeting with the liquor distributer at ten tomorrow.”
Just business. Always just business. “I’m aware,” I grind out. Stupid to let this hurt me. I slide out from beneath Hercules’s head and it’s only sheer force of will that keeps my knees from buckling when I stand. Hades may own me in every way that counts, but he’s no longer my safe space. I’m not even sure if he ever was, or if those bright years were just a figment of my imagination, an illusion a desperate girl wove around herself and the man she viewed as her savior.
I let the blanket drop and walk on steady legs to my discarded clothing. It’s not uncommon for subs to navigate the club in only a blanket—or naked—but I am not a normal sub. My clothing is my armor, and no matter how dazed I feel right now, I can’t afford to let anyone see. The Underworld is filled to the brim with predators, and it’s their nature to pounce on weakness. Even me. Especially me.
I’m almost to the door when Hades speaks again. “Megaera.”
I stop. “Yes?”
“You pleased me greatly tonight.”
I resent the warm flush his words bring. Pleasure at pleasing him. I walk out of the room without another word. Hades will see to Hercules. It’s not my problem, and staying in that room a second longer is just asking for the emotional breakdown I can feel barreling down the tracks in my direction. I have to get out of here, but leaving the building isn’t an option, not when I’m feeling so off-center. It takes me six minutes to make it down the back way to the living quarters and lock myself in my suite. Even then, it’s not enough. I strip out of my clothes, but each step reminds me of the beating Hades delivered, of the way Hercules fucked me with his tongue afterward. If that’s not a metaphor for the two men, I don’t know what is.