The fruit hung, heavy and ripe, from the branches. I reached out and plucked one. The skin was smooth, something that I might not have noticed before.
I scowled and stepped back, careful not to bruise the fruit.
With swift steps, I left the castle grounds and made my way into the city. The streets were quiet at this hour, most of the inhabitants at their evening meal. Those who lived in the city had been in the Underworld the longest. They’d earned the privilege.
The newer dead lived outside of the city walls, working to feed the inhabitants. It was a system that had worked well for thousands of years. The entire city was a system, a well-oiled machine that worked because the inhabitants were too afraid of me to defy me.
For my part, I paid them no mind. People—their joy or their pain—held no lure for me.
So I left them to their devices, and they left me to mine, understanding that the briefest change of my will would signal a change in their circumstance. Most likely for the worse.
I felt a few curious gazes on me as I walked, moving silently over the cobblestones in front of the three-story buildings that housed people and shops. I did not bother to turn and meet any of their gazes.
Instead, I sought the shop nearest to my castle—the Mages’ workshop.
The door was shut when I arrived, black wood and iron barring me from entrance. I knocked, knowing that my magic seeped through the door, announcing my presence.
Footsteps sounded. A second later, the door swung open.
The mage, small and stooped, looked up at me with watery eyes. I stepped back, distaste flickering through me.
He bowed. “Yes, my lord?”
I held out the pomegranate, careful not to touch him as I passed it over. “I would like you to make this into concentrated liquid that does not taste of pomegranate. Quickly.”
He took the fruit and nodded. “Of course, my lord. I can have the mist for you tomorrow, late morning. It must be used within two days, while still fresh.”
I nodded. “Excellent.”
He bowed once more and disappeared into the recesses of his shop, letting the shadows swallow him as he shut the door.
I returned to the castle, forcibly keeping my thoughts from Persephone. She was here. We were on the proper path. All would be revealed.
Still, as I sought my rest, her face flickered before my mind’s eye, slumber weakening me to the point that my thoughts would drift where they desired.
To her.
And then, once slumber came fully, to the darkness that had formed me.
Seraphia
I returned straight to my room, skin buzzing from the near embrace with Hades.
Even through the leather of his gloves, his cold touch had burned me, making goosebumps rise on my arms, followed by heat.
Why did his touch affect me so much? He was a cold, miserable bastard. A monster.
Yet a monster who blazed beneath his icy exterior, tightly leashed power and passion that made a shiver run through me.
I am above that.
His words whispered through my mind, confirming my suspicions. The terrible god wasn’t human in any kind of way. He’d never wanted another person before. Never been with another person before.
Yet, despite his dismissal, he wasn’t truly cold, nor was he above it. The way he’d looked at me—heat and confusion combined—proved it.
I could use that . . . though I wasn’t sure how. I’d never been the femme fatale type, but I didn’t trust him to let me go when this was all over. I would need every weapon I possessed to contend with a god.
I scrubbed my arms, wanting to drive away the feeling of his hands on my flesh. To drive away the memory of his face. His eyes.
If I was going to use his own deeply buried desire against him, I couldn’t feel any of my own. It would derail me.
I needed to focus on him. Not me. On learning his weaknesses and using them against him. There was so much below his surface. More than just the heat that drew me like a moth to flame. Yet I was terrified to discover what it was.
Fates, I wished I’d spent more time practicing my magic. I’d had good reason for not doing it, but now I longed to strangle him with a fern.
No, think bigger.
I could get him with more than a fern. The last thing I needed was to be known as Seraphia, The Fern Girl.
I entered my temporary room, grateful not to be locked in a cage. I might be a prisoner in this realm, but at least I had some freedom. As I entered the space, I noticed that the firelight flickered on the hearth.
Someone had been there to light it.
My stomach grumbled.
“Beatrix?” I called softly, hoping she had returned.
There was silence.
How long would it take her to get back here? I went to the bathroom, the place where she’d first appeared through the window.
Sitting on the sill was a small black bag. I hurried to it, catching sight of the moonlight on the sea below. It glittered, too beautiful for a place as dark as this.
Inside the bag were a handful of protein bars. Lots of energy, easy to carry.
Smart Beatrix.
I tore into one, eating it quickly. The next one went down a bit slower, and I hid the others in the cushions of the couch. I returned to the bathroom to wash my face and found Beatrix sitting on the sill, her dark feathers gleaming.
“Hey!” Happiness surged inside me.
Magic sparked around her, and she shifted into her human form, still sitting on the wide stone windowsill. Her legs were encased in shimmery blue leggings this time, and her wild hair was pulled back in a messy bun.
“Are you all right?” she asked, worry in her eyes.
“Yeah. Thank you for the food. You’re a literal life saver. How is Mac?”
Her brow creased. “Mac is the same.”
“Anybody at home have any idea how I might escape?”
“We’re looking into it, but from everything we’ve found so far, there’s nothing we can do. You’re in the Underworld. It’s Hades’ domain. Without his permission, no one can leave. Or enter.” She grimaced. “Except me, apparently.”
Disappointment surged through me, but I forced it back. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that you’re here.”
“Of course.” She gave a smile, clearly trying for reassuring. “And I want to be here. I really do. I just wish I understood the magic that makes it possible.”
“I feel you.” Not understanding your own magic was a problem I was well familiar with. For all I knew, I really was Persephone.
No. Don’t think like that.
I didn’t want anything to tie me permanently to Hades.
“Everyone is doing what they can on the outside to get you home,” Beatrix said. “But . . .”
“It’s going to be up to me.”
“It seems like it. We’ve had no luck so far. And I don’t think I can stay here for long periods of time. I keep feeling the pull of the other side.” As if it had heard her, the air around her shimmered and her form seemed to waver. She raised an arm to indicate the change, a frown on her face. “See?”
“Oh, that looks dangerous. You’d better go.”
“Soon. What about that cure for Mac on your end?”
“Not yet. I’m trying to get Hades to agree to cure her, but I don’t trust him. I need to find something else, just in case.”