16. Sandro
Sandro
“M oon Jinx,” I barely had the time to say when Hades was covered in flames, and I sank into the darkness long enough that when I opened my eyes again, I was standing right in front of the bar just off Paternoster Square and under the shadow of St. Paul’s Cathedral.
“Is this the place?” He pointed at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of the bar and grimaced.
I nodded. “Problem?” I grinned.
Granted, it didn’t look like much, but he was a god that had been trapped in the Underworld for some millennia, so what the hell did he know about bars?
His eyes opened wide, and he shook his head with so much innocence that I was tempted to kiss him. But that would be uncalled for, right?
“No. No problem. I simply have never seen a bar before. And I needed to make sure my powers were still working properly.”
“Your powers are working just fine, H,” I said and tried to pat his shoulder before I remembered I was a ghost.
I mean, I could possess him, but that felt…intrusive, so I didn’t do that. Instead, I walked toward the door and waited for him to follow.
Moon Jinx might not be the trendiest or busiest bar, but it was a welcoming place nonetheless. The décor was warm and cozy, with a mix of low seating, like sofas and armchairs, and high tables, colorful cushions, large modern lightbulbs hanging off the ceiling, and glowing orange and green foliage that draped along that added a calming effect to the whole place. The lounge music playing throughout also perpetuated the chill vibe.
It was no surprise as Moon Jinx was mainly a café open on weekdays and weekends and served an abundance of businesspeople and tourists. That was before Loki, Tomasz’s boyfriend, nearly destroyed the place, requiring some emergency refurbishment.
Around that time, Drew, a friend of Tomasz’s, started working here as a master mixologist, transforming Java Jinx into Moon Jinx after-hours.
“Hello and welcome to Moon Jinx, where all your dreams come true in one simple drink,” Drew said from the other side of the bar, wearing a dark-sapphire shirt and a light-brown apron.
“Dreams come true? I very much doubt that,” Hades muttered and sat at the bar.
I sat beside him and tried not to think too hard about the logistics. How could I sit or walk on things but couldn’t touch them? Who had come up with those stupid rules, and to whom did I complain?
“The night’s still young, and I may still be able to prove myself.” Drew leaned forward with a shit-eating grin, and his dark eyes shone under the candlelight on the other side of Hades.
It didn’t take a mind-reader to tell Hades was still not impressed by the witchy cocktail master as his face remained expressionless.
“I was told you make some strong drinks. I’ll have one of those.” His tone was steady and sharp, not to be questioned or trifled with.
It made something in my cold, dead insides purr, and despite not having a physical body, I felt its effect like a rumble inside. If I wasn’t careful, it would spill out of me, and I couldn’t have that. I couldn’t embarrass myself like that. Even if only Hades could see me.
Especially if only Hades could see me.
“I’ll take it you’re a Scotch kind of guy, huh?” Drew didn’t give up despite the resistance from the god of the Underworld.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Hades eyes narrowed to slits and watched Drew until the man walked off and started preparing a drink.
In the usual Drew manner, he didn’t serve whiskey neat or on the rocks. No, he grabbed a bottle of the good stuff, stood in front of his mixing station, and poured, shook, and smoked stuff. It was intoxicating to watch. His concentration, his entire body, mind, and soul were focused on the tools and tasks in front of him. It didn’t matter if people walked past or stood at the bar. It didn’t matter if the other bartender got in his way or the ticket printer groaned more orders. Drew was in another plane of existence.
“What is he doing?” Hades asked me.
I opened my mouth to respond when someone behind me spoke up.
“He’s in the zone.”
Both Hades and I turned to the stranger also sitting at the bar.
He must have sat down after us because I couldn’t imagine not noticing a guy like him. He was imposing, but not in the same way as Hades. He was a tall, large man with broad shoulders and a captivating smile. A warm and kind smile that shone through even when he wasn’t smiling.
He was what I could only describe as a bear, but even that didn’t feel adequate. Teddy bear was more apt, but even then…
“In the…what does that mean?”
“Drew loves his cocktails. He gets lost in his little potion-making. Can’t you feel it? His magic is radiating,” the man said, and I looked from him to Drew to Hades, who stared at the mixologist with pursed lips.
If there was magic in the air, I couldn’t see or feel it. Maybe one of the “benefits” of being dead, although I was pretty sure I couldn’t do either of those when I was alive either, so…
I’d been drinking Drew’s cocktails for the past few weeks, and I’d never noticed any effects other than the woozy feeling of his strong concoctions. They left me with the nicest buzz known to man, woman, or nonbinary person.
“You’re right,” Hades hummed.
“I’ve been a regular since he started here, and I still can’t figure out what it is—Sorry, I forgot to say. My power is magic sense. That’s why I even mentioned it to you. Because I could tell you’re a witch. I don’t just go around talking magic with humans.”
Hades simply stared at the man and didn’t offer any words of encouragement or comfort.
“Tell him to go on,” I said.
His eyes flicked to me before he repeated what I said, and the man continued.
“As I was saying, I’ve been hanging around since this place re-opened, but I still can’t tell what kind of magic it is. I’ve never seen anything like it. Come to think of it, yours also is?—”
“It’s kitchen witchcraft,” Hades said before the man could finish his sentence. “ Greek kitchen witchcraft. I’ve never seen someone use it with alcohol, however. Usually it’s with food.”
“Oh,” the bear said, and just as Drew lit an orange peel on fire, he extended his hand, but Hades didn’t shake it. He just stared at it. “I’m Don, by the way.”
“Hades.” He didn’t move and his eyes tightened even more.
“H, be nice and shake the man’s hand.”
With a heavy sigh, he did before turning his attention to Drew, who approached us with a smoking glass full of golden liquid.
“One Hot Damn Hell for a hot damn man,” he said and held out the glass to Hades.
When Hades reached for it, the music distorted the same way it does when playing an old record and you lift the needle from the vinyl. Don, the bartender, the waitress, and everyone in the bar, along with their chatter, ceased. The only thing still moving was Hades and Drew.
Their fingers brushed, and my insides stirred again, only this time it wasn’t a purr that threatened to come out but a growl. A feral kind of growl I’d never experienced before. It suddenly had a chokehold on me that I had no control over.
“Are we done here?” Hades’ voice boomed across the quiet space, shaking off whatever had taken over me, and time started again.
“Yeah. I guess we are.” Drew sounded defeated, but he didn’t let that stop him from turning with newfound confidence and taking Don’s order.
I knew Drew was a big, salacious flirt, and he loved his twinky men, but gods! Could he stop thinking with his dick for two seconds and be a normal guy?
I had also been a “victim” of his time-stopping power the first time he met me—and flirted with me—as had Tomasz. He was relentless, and even though we hadn’t been susceptible to his advances, it hadn’t stopped Drew from hooking up with man after man. He hadn’t exactly told us, but it was obvious from the pieces of paper being slipped to him and the way certain men drooled all over him every time I visited.
Hades raised his glass to Don, took a sip of Hot Damn Hell, and his face lit up.
“Unholy Mother,” he exclaimed, making Don stare. Then proceeded to gulp the rest of it.
“Hey. Hey. Save some for me!” I shouted.
Hades raised an eyebrow as he drained the last of the glass’s contents, and I grimaced.
“Yeah, okay,” I answered.
How on earth was a ghost supposed to drink an earthly drink?
Unless…
“What if I possess you? Can I taste it then?”
“You can try, but I doubt—” He shrugged, and I jumped inside him before letting him finish or thinking it through.
My entire un-body went oddly warm, the entire opposite effect he gave off when I was alive or when I touched him as a ghost. Was his body cocooning me? Is that what made me feel almost…alive?
“Hm, it’s cozy in here,” I said, but my voice didn’t sound like mine. It sounded like Hades.
“It certainly is,” Don answered as if I’d been speaking to him.
“Sandro!” I—we—spoke again only that wasn’t me. That was Hades speaking.
So we shared a body and voice, but our minds remained separate. That was good to know.
“Who is Sandro?” Don asked.
“No—” I started to say when Hades cut in. “My lover.”
I wanted to tell him that sounded much dirtier when spoken aloud to a stranger, but if I did that, Don would think us crazy.
“My mate,” I added so it sounded more…normal, I guess.
“Oh. You’ve got a mate too? That’s amazing. I’m mated myself. I’m actually waiting for him now. And where is your mate? Will he be joining you soon?”
“He’s dead!” Hades said before I could stop him.
Don’s face contorted and his color washed off.
“I…I can’t even imagine…I’m sorry. I can’t imagine the pain?—”
“It’s excruciating,” Hades said, and I felt the pain in my stomach, my chest, every fiber of my body.
Shit, that hurts. That hurts so bad. Why does it hurt? Were we sharing emotions too?
“Don’t worry. I’m planning on getting him back.”
Don sat back and cocked his head as Drew set down a tall drink in front of him.
“Another one?” he asked Hades, and I nodded before Hades could refuse.
“How are you planning on doing that?” Don asked, and Drew started to walk off to prepare the drink. As Hades opened his mouth to answer, it appeared in front of us. Another glass of iced golden liquid.
When we looked up, Drew winked at us and turned to another customer. He may be a flirt, but he sure could deliver a quick service when he wanted.
“I don’t know yet, but I’m going to find a way,” Hades said, and I took control of his hand to bring the drink to my lips.
Fuck me, that tasted almost divine. No, scratch the almost. It tasted divine. It was boozy and smoky, citrusy and woodsy, floral and sweet all at the same time, and it made my body even warmer.
No. Not my body. Hades’.
“That’s…” Don started. “I hope you find a way.” After a small pause, he shook his head. “And here I am worrying about this bloody thing.”
I hadn’t noticed Don’s American accent until he said bloody, and it sounded so weird in a non-British accent.
“What thing?” I asked.
Don retrieved a ring box from his pocket and set it on the bar, sipping his drink.
“You’re proposing?”
He nodded and pursed his lips as if he was apologizing for bringing it up after what we just told him.
“Why?” Hades asked before I could stop him. Not that I could. He had a mind of his own, and so did I.
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you proposing? You’re mated already. That’s the strongest bond there is. Why do you need a wedding and marriage and all that?” Hades continued.
Don picked up the ring box and tapped it on the bar, playing with it.
“That’s a good question. I guess…it’s important to me. I know we’re lucky to have found each other. Not all of us find our mate in this life, and I’m grateful for that, especially considering there was an ocean separating us, yet we still found our way to each other?—”
“Exactly,” Hades said and brought the glass to his lips for another gulp that I thoroughly appreciated too.
“But…we had no part in it. You know?”
“I don’t think I do,” Hades said. “What do you mean?” I asked.
“The fact that we found each other, that we met, that we’re bonded for life…that had nothing to do with us. We didn’t control that. That was fate. But me asking him to marry me? Now that’s all me. I control it. I want it. And it’s a promise from me to him and him to me. A promise that as long as I live, as long as we both shall live, I’ll love him and care for him, and trust him and nurture him and appreciate him and hold our bond sacred. And that’s all me. Not some unknown entity pulling strings.”
“That’s beautiful,” I said. Hades didn’t say anything.
Don raised his glass into the air, and I came out from within Hades.
The buzz, the warmth, the hope I’d felt inside him was all gone like a flash, and I mulled over the stranger’s words in my head like they were a eulogy— my eulogy.
Don was right. Fate might have bound Hades and me together, and we had no control over that. And even though Hades didn’t want to give up, maybe it was time. There was only so much one person could control before fate took over.
“What’s wrong?” Hades asked me.
“Pre-proposal jitters,” Don answered, but Hades ignored him.
I looked at him, the king of the Underworld, the god of the dead, my apparent soulmate. I looked into his blue eyes, and I felt that coolness that would wash over me when I was still alive and under his touch. Such a different feeling from being inside his human body.
Those eyes gave me hope, so much hope, but…
I reached out and cupped his cheek, and Hades leaned toward it. I wondered if he felt me like I felt him. I wondered how touching him made him feel. Did it set his insides on fire like it did mine?
“Have you ever thought…?” I whispered. I hesitated for a moment, but it needed to be said. He needed someone to tell him clearly. Maybe then he’d wrap his head around it and let me go. “Have you ever thought that it was my fate to die and nothing either of us does can undo it?”