The poor thing.
“You want to live?”
Her body tenses at the question. A tremulous nod.
“We’ll see how long that lasts.”
5
Persephone
I should scream and kick and pound at his back. I should fight him or die trying. There are lots of things I should do.
But the one thing my mother never explicitly warned me about—God, she never told me anything—is that Hades is huge. He’s not just ruthless. He’s not just strong. He’s taller than Decker by a good five inches, and the two of them together….
I choke back a sob. Decker never stood a chance. I’ve never seen muscles on a man like this before, not even on my mother’s fieldworkers. None of them look this lean and tall and strong. None of them feel this strong. He’s got an iron grip just under my ass, and I don’t even have to struggle to know that I’ll never get free. The dream of seeing the New York Public Library—gone up in flames. Cicadas scream on my behalf.
The night breeze is the world’s gentlest caress on my skin, not even harsh enough to dry my tears. I let them fall to the ground behind us. My heart could stop right this instant. It hurts like a broken rib. I’ve never been so far over my head in my life. I’ll do anything. That’s what I said, and I saw it in Hades’ eyes. I saw when he accepted the deal. There was no relief there, or happiness. Only a cruel satisfaction.
What else was I supposed to do? Let Decker die? And what does it mean that the smallest, worst part of me considered it?
But I didn’t run. No. I traded the only thing I have to give. Me. And I might not know much about the world, but I know this—people live and die by vague terms. Maybe that was why my mother said the same thing about Hades over and over again. If he finds you, he will kill you.
She was wrong about that.
He hasn’t killed me.
Not yet.
Whatever happens now could be far, far worse.
I want to howl for Decker, to chase after the men until they let me see if he’s all right. A ragged shout balls itself up in my throat, a hard, painful knot. He’s not all right. How could he be all right? How could he ever be all right again?
How could I?
Hades cuts off my thoughts with an abrupt turn, his dog padding by his side. It’s a massive dog with sharp teeth. I heard it growl. I couldn’t say what kind it is, but I don’t need to know. It could kill me as easily as Hades could, but there’s only so much room for fear in my head. All of it blends together, loud and pounding.
We’ve only gone to the next car, but it seems like a hundred miles. I pick my head up and try for a glimpse of Decker. The retreating shadows of the men who dragged him away have faded to nothing. Another cascade of sobs. I gulp them back. Hades laughs, the low rumble soft against my belly through his shoulder.
“Don’t hold back.” His arm tightens across my legs. “I’m very much enjoying the sound of your tears. It’s such a...” He cocks his head to the side, leaving a bare inch of space for the night to rush into. “It’s such a pure sadness. Lovely.”
“You’re horrible.” I get the words out and then I’m falling, moving so fast I brace for the crushing impact that’s sure to come.
It never does. Hades sets me on my feet on the top step of the train car. My knees wobble. I hope, I pray, that the dress is hiding it. He considers me from a few steps away. Silhouetted there in the moonlight, the night drawing him in bold strokes…
Something is different about him. Something’s wrong. Shadows play over his face in a way that’s not right. Like he’s pulling the moonlight into his dark heart and bleeding it dry of its brightness. The moon loves him, the night loves him, and he takes all that love for himself, all that moon-glow and darkness, and—
My own breath is harsh over the hum of the train and the whoosh of the wind in the leaves.
“Would a horrible man be so kind to you?” A grin flashes across his face, teeth white in the strange shadows. He radiates a mean confidence. It comes off him in waves. My mother said the city has violence, but Luther Hades is violence. His dog paws at the ground. “I’ve left the flowers in your hair.”
“If you were being kind, you would have killed me already.” He’s torturing me now without touching me. A better man wouldn’t put me through this crushing terror, but he loves it.
An unspeakable fear closes my throat. The wondering tone about the flowers is scarier than everything else.
“I’m honoring your request.” He puts his hands in his pockets, standing tall. Hades takes a single step forward, but it’s like he’s slammed a door on the rest of the world. “If I recall correctly, you were willing to do anything to save that young man’s life. It’s a fair trade, don’t you think? Your life for his?”
“So you are going to kill me.” My chin shakes, and damn it, if I have to die, I don’t want to do it with a quivering chin and a snotty nose. “Just finish the job.”
Hades tips his head back and laughs. It’s the most terrifying sound I’ve ever heard, and yet—and yet—something about it strikes me as beautiful. It fits him, even while it gets under my skin, down to the bones. He raises one hand, and I grit my teeth. I’m not going to cower. Not going to step back. I lift my chin, making room for his hand around my throat, and he makes a soft mmm sound.
“You’re offering,” he muses. “Either you’re hoping I kill you, or you’re doing your best to meet the terms of our little arrangement.” His hand hovers in the air, close enough for me to feel the heat of his palm. “Of course, there’s another explanation for baring that pretty neck to me.”
He lets the statement hang in the air until I’m ready to burst. The train whistle sounds again—this is the third time—but Hades doesn’t so much as blink.
He’s watching me.
More than watching. This is no casual gaze. He’s pinning me here with his eyes. Making me wait. Stripping me down. Heat sears my cheeks. I said I would do anything. I expected him to kill us both, honestly. I believed my mother. I was willing to throw myself on the sword to save Deck, to die with him, and now…
I clear my throat so I can force the words out. “There’s no other explanation.”
“You don’t want to admit you want this.” His voice is so sensual, so cutting. I shake my head, horrified. No, no, no. “Not on the surface, sweet thing. Deep down, where you feel the most filthy and dirty and shameful. You like a hand on your throat. You like my hand on your throat. I’m not surprised, given the company you’ve been keeping.”
My lips have gone numb, but even worse, the heat has fled my cheeks and settled between my legs. Fresh shame presses my thighs together.
“I was trying to survive. I only wanted—”
“I like the way you cry.” Hades does touch me now, two fingertips on my cheek, burning a path along the tracks of my tears. “I like the way it makes your body shake. A man could get drunk off that feeling.”
I press my lips together, trying not to let any more tears leak out. It’s futile. I couldn’t stop them if I tried.
“That’s what you want from me?”