Shock nearly steals my breath. I’m not surprised to hear Zeus accused of another set of murders, exactly, but Hades speaks of his parents’ death so neutrally, as if it happened to someone else. I swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah. People always say that.”
I’m losing him. I can see it in the way his gaze tracks around the room as if debating how quickly he can bundle me up and send me on my way. I take a deep breath and press forward. No matter what he told those men last night, it couldn’t be clearer that he has no intention of keeping me around. I can’t allow that. “Use me.”
Hades refocuses on me. “What?”
“It’s not the same thing, not even on the same level, but he claimed me and now you have me.”
Surprise colors his features. “I didn’t realize you’d resigned yourself so fully to playing the pawn in a chess match between men.”
Humiliation heats my cheeks, but I ignore it. He’s trying to provoke a reaction, and I won’t give it to him. “A pawn between you or a pawn to be used by my mother—it all amounts to the same.” I smile brightly, enjoying the way he flinches as if I’ve struck him. “I can’t go back, you see.”
“I’m not keeping you.”
No reason for that to sting. I don’t know this man, and I have no intention of being kept. It still irks that he’s so ready to dismiss me out of hand. I keep my smile firmly in place and my tone bright. “Not forever, of course. I have somewhere to be in three months’ time, but until I turn twenty-five, I can’t access my trust fund to get there.”
“You’re twenty-four.” If anything, he looks grumpier, as if my age is a personal affront.
“Yes, that is how math works.” Tone it down, Persephone. You need his help. Stop needling him. I can’t seem to help myself. Normally, I’m better at putting people at ease, which makes them more inclined to do what I want. Hades makes me want to dig in my heels and stick it to him until he squirms.
He turns to look out the window, which is when I notice that he’s replaced the side table exactly how it was before I moved it. How wonderfully anal of him. It doesn’t line up in the least with the boogeyman of Olympus. That man would have kicked down the door and dragged me out by my hair. He’d be only too happy to take me up on my offer instead of looking at the open bathroom door like I’ve left my wits behind me in the tub.
By the time he turns back to me, I have my placid, happy expression firmly in place. Hades glowers. “You want to stay here for three months.”
“In fact, I do. My birthday is April sixteenth. I’ll be out of your hair the day after. I’ll be out of everyone’s hair.”
“What does that mean?”
“Once my trust fund is in my hands, I’m bribing someone to get me out of Olympus. The details aren’t important; the fact that I’m leaving is.”
He narrows his eyes. “Leaving the city isn’t that easy.”
“Neither is crossing the River Styx, but I managed that last night.”
He finally stops glaring and studies me. “What a pale revenge you sketch out. Why should I care what you do? As you said, you won’t go back to Zeus and your mother, and I’m the one who took you from him. Whether or not I keep you here, whether you leave now or in three months, it makes no difference to me.”
He’s right, and I hate that he’s right. Zeus already knows I’m here, which means Hades effectively has me over a barrel. I stand carefully, muscling down my flinch at the aching pain putting weight on my feet causes. From his narrowed eyes, he sees it regardless, and he doesn’t like it. No matter how cold this man pretends to be, if he was really that cold, he wouldn’t have sat me in his kitchen and bandaged my feet, wouldn’t have wrapped blankets around me to ensure I warmed up. He wouldn’t be fighting himself in order not to shove me back onto the bed to keep me from hurting myself.
I clasp my hands in front of me to prevent myself from fidgeting. “What if you twisted the knife, so to speak?”
He’s watching me so closely, I have the hysterical thought that this must be how a fox feels before the hounds are loosed. If I run, would he chase me? I can’t be certain, and because I can’t be certain, my heart picks up its rhythm in my chest.
Finally, Hades says, “I’m listening.”
“Keep me for the rest of the winter. And all that that entails.”
“Don’t be vague now, Persephone. Spell out what you’re offering, in detail.”
My face must be crimson, but I don’t let my smile falter. “If he thinks I chose you over him, it will drive him mad.” When Hades continues to wait, I swallow hard. “You live in the lower city, but surely you know how it works across the river. My perceived value is directly tied to my image. Among the other things, there’s a reason you haven’t seen me publicly dating anyone since my mother became Demeter.” In hindsight, I intensely regret submitting to my mother’s meddling in that regard. I thought it easier to not make waves as she cultivated a certain reputation for me and my sisters; I had no idea she’d use that same reputation to sell me to Zeus.
“Zeus is notorious for not wanting what he considers tarnished goods.” I take a deep breath. “So…tarnish me.”
Hades finally smiles and, good gods, it’s like being hit by a laser beam. Heat strong enough to make my fingertips tingle and curl my toes. I stare up at him, caught in the intensity of those dark eyes. And then he’s shaking his head, smothering the rush of strangeness through my body. “No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
“I’m aware that you’ve likely not heard the word often in your privileged life, so I’ll spell it out for you. No. Nein. Nyet. Non. Absolutely not.”
Irritation rises. It’s a very good plan, especially when I had such short notice to come up with it. “Why not?”
For a moment, I think he won’t answer me. Finally, Hades shakes his head. “Zeus isn’t stupid.”
“I suppose that’s a fair assumption.” One doesn’t gain and keep power in Olympus without some level of intelligence, even if they are in a legacy role. “What’s your point?”
“Even if one takes Hermes out of the equation, he has spies in my territory the same way I have spies in his. No surface-level charade will fool him. It will take one report to prove it all to be a sham, which will entirely defeat the purpose of said sham.”
If he’s correct, my plan won’t work. How frustrating. Now it’s my turn to cross my arms over my chest, though I refuse to glare out of principle. “Then we do it for real.”