Chapter 6 Persephone
Persephone
I wake up with the strange, prickling sensation I am being watched. Shooting out of bed, I look toward the door, a growl in my throat. The bedroom door is wide open, the dark hallways just beyond gaping like a missing tooth.
I suck in a lungful of air and fix my gaze on the doorway. But nothing moves.
If Hades was watching me while I was asleep, he is gone now. I shudder. It’s beyond creepy. Just like everything has been since I was kidnapped.
I smack my lips, tasting something sour in my mouth. My stomach gurgles. My hair is a little matted where I slept pressed against it.
I guess my body doesn’t care that I’ve been kidnapped. It still needs to eat and be cleaned, regardless of my current location.
Getting out of bed, I slam the bedroom door closed and go into the bathroom. Turning the water on, I wait for it to get hot and clearly stare at my right arm. I clench my fist, but the fingers are very slow to unfurl themselves when I relax them.
Damage done to me when the back of my head struck the rock after Constantine chased me off that cliff. I carry it with me to this day.
Whoever stocked it with fresh, fluffy towels and luxurious shampoo did their job well. I close myself inside and shower quickly. The hot water rains down on me, the forceful pressure feeling amazing to my faintly achy muscles.
My mind wanders, circling back to Hades and his brothers. Three tall, broad shouldered Scottish men with the same dark hair and light complexions. That is where the comparisons end, though.
Eros is very attractive, his high cheekbones and full lips almost pretty. Ares is too scary to have the same said of him. He’s more… bluntly handsome.
Hades, though…
I shiver even though I am under the shower’s hot downpour. Pretty and handsome don’t really capture Hades’ aura of raw power and muted sexuality in the least. He reminds me of nothing so much as a big cat, stalking its prey, sleek and muscular and dark all at once.
I hate to admit it, but I still find him attractive. Even after he kidnapped me, dragged me to the island, and literally carried me into this bedroom.
Attractive but deadly. It’s important to remind myself of that little fact. In the past, when I dated Constantine for instance, I ignored all the red flags in favor of his sheer beauty.
I won’t ever make that mistake again. Not when I know Hades is toxic. He practically tells me so every time he touches me with such disgust.
Blowing out a huge breath, I turn off the shower and wrap myself in a thick, pillowy towel. Then I step into the adjoining walk-in closet, which I found last night.
Hades obviously planned to snatch me far enough in advance to have clothes in my size brought here for me. Not just clothes…
Reaching out with my damaged hand, I run my touch along the silken garments that hang here waiting for me. Hades has a specific taste.
Expensive. Feminine. Almost exclusively black.
And if he is the one that picked out the drawers of tiny black thongs and lace balconette brassieres… I shiver as I pluck one of each at random.
It takes me a minute to dress myself in the most modest garment hanging in the closet.
A slinky black silk dress, the bottom hitting the floor when I pull it over my head.
It fits as if it were tailored just for me, even though I have basically no ass or tits.
The dress miraculously doesn’t demand any.
If anything, its spaghetti straps hug my shoulders a little too tightly.
I pull a slinky black off the shoulder sweater over it that feels expensive. It’s not the greatest combination but I’ve managed to cover everything from my toes to the tips of my fingers. The only skin I’m showing is a portion of my left shoulder.
That’ll have to do.
Slipping on a pair of dark flats, I head to roam the house. Specifically, I need to find Hades. Yesterday ended on a frustrating note for the both of us.
I’m hoping that I can appeal to his sense of decency. Assuming he has one, that is.
I find nothing but bedrooms upstairs on the second floor.
The ground floor is expansive, and I wander through the living area and the open kitchen before I find him in a sort of breakfast nook that is a little hidden away from the rest of the house.
The room has a breath-taking view of the ocean.
He admires it, leaning in the corner, eating up all the space in the room as he scowls into the distance.
I stop and stare for a moment, taking in the white sand beaches and moody aqua blue of the sea.
What is a man who has a view like this so angry for? If I were him, I would retire and try to be happy right here.
Hades turns, sensing that he is not alone. He pushes his cheek out with his tongue, already impatient. He bristles, winding up for a fight.
“What?” he asks.
I step in the room, sticking close to the door in case I have a reason to bolt. “You don’t like me very much.”
His brows lower. A frown touches his lips. “I dinnae understand yer point.”
“Well…” I clear my throat, cursing myself for being such a timid little mouse. My heart is pounding in my chest. “I don’t like you either.”
He runs his tongue over his teeth.
“Ye are trying my patience, Persephone.”
“Penny,” I correct him. I flush. Perhaps I didn’t think what I want to say to him out particularly well, but I can’t stand the way he says my name.
Persephone. Like a curse in his native tongue.
His eyes tighten on my face. “Get to it, lass.”
“Whatever work you have for me, I should go ahead and do it. Then you can let me go. Like I said before, I won’t tell anybody. It’s a win-win. No offense, but I can’t wait to see the last of you.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yer giving me a hell of a headache for it being so early in the day.”
“I’m ready to leave.” I shrink back against the wall, wincing.
“Yer not leaving me,” he says, enunciating each syllable. His accent grows thicker as he gets angrier. “Nobody leaves me. I do the leaving around here. Ye hear me?”
I toss off the first thing that floats up from my subconscious, not fully thinking it through.
“That sounds like something that you should be talking to a therapist about.”
Hades lunges toward me, a deep growl barreling from his throat.
“I could fucking kill ye. Ye know that?” He corners me, moving so fast that I don’t have time to escape.
“Yer lucky that I need a forger still. Because otherwise…” He steps so close; he’s almost pressed against me.
Not touching, but almost. “I might like to find out just how sweet yer last gasp sounds while I slowly choke ye to death.”
I swallow and look up into his face. Without a doubt, there is little to read there but violence and mayhem and a twisted sort of beauty. I tremble.
He’s a hair away from wrapping his fingers around my little neck and squeezing, I can tell. I suck in a breath, wishing away the tears that threaten to break free.
Hades grabs me then, making me cry out. He turns me around, crushing me against the wall briefly. He pulls my hands behind my back and a tear breaks loose, rolling down my cheek.
He manhandles me, roughly pulling me away from the wall and pushing me back to the kitchen. Then suddenly, he lets me go.
I gasp, whirling around and backing away. He clenches his fists, as though I’m too caustic to even touch with his bare hands.
Hades raises one finger, commanding me. “Wise men know that patience is a virtue, Persephone. Dinnae forget it. Ye’ll be paid handsomely for the whole time ye are with me, so bide yer time.”
I raise my hand to my cheek, trying to remain unemotional. “There are people that will miss me, you know. I’ll be national news before you know it.”
His lips twitch with a dark humor. “I highly doubt that anyone even knows yer name, Persephone. Much less likely is that someone can be arsed to report ye missing.”
Another tear falls. I dash it away too. “You keep acting like I’ve agreed to this. I haven’t, Hades! You kidnapped me! I’m not going to do anything for you unless you let me leave!”
Another flare of anger crosses his sullen expression. “I dinnae care about yer feelings, lass. I could literally give a fuck about yer opinions. And ye leave when I tell ye to, not a second fucking before that.”
I’m going to burst into tears. I can feel the anger, frustration and sadness welling up inside me, pressing to be let out, smothering me. The last thing I want is to cry in front of this… this monster.
So, I turn around, running toward the relatively safety of the bedroom I woke up in. Half expecting him to chase me.
To continue to terrorize me.
But he doesn’t. He just stands there, watching me climb the stairs, my tears beginning to fall.