Chapter 14 Hades
Hades
As I step off the plane onto the tarmac at a private airport, I stretch.
The Valencia sun beams brightly, drenching the entire world in light.
It’s less hot here than it was in Turks and Caicos, thank god.
As a Scot who wears black suits almost without exception, I was definitely ready to get the fuck out of the tropics.
It’s warm here, but it’s a sultry Mediterranean heat. I glance toward the little airport, fishing a pair of sunglasses out of my pocket.
The tiny building reflects the city; white sandstone walls, neat shadowy portcullis style windows, red clay tiles on the roof. It feels so distinctly European that I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding in for the last few weeks.
Persephone descends the staircase just behind me, shading her eyes. She points to the outcropping of the city only a few miles away, sitting high on a cliff overlooking a truly spectacular aqua ocean.
“That is just…” She shakes her head, something like awe in her eyes. “Stunning. When I was in art school, I wanted to study abroad in Barcelona. But my parents said it was too expensive.”
She wrinkles her nose delicately.
My lips twitch. “Well, now yer here. Maybe we can see art while we are here.”
She looks at me, her eyebrows rising. “Really?”
I want to roll my eyes at her eager enthusiasm, but I don’t. Offering her an elbow, I jerk my head toward the city. “We’ll see. Come on.”
She gives me a cool little smile and takes my arm, allowing me to guide her to a waiting limo. As we drive into Valencia, I watch her as she presses against her window, trying to take in every sight.
Her straight, dark hair is tied up in a loose bun, stray hairs beginning to fall out around the nape of her neck.
She wears a long black dress with a strappy top.
It is made of some lightweight knit material and my fingers itch to touch it.
My eyes fix on a spot just where the fabric pools in the middle of her back, the material dark against her tanned skin.
But for so many reasons, I don’t. Not only do we not have that sort of relationship, but I feel like touching her so casually would be opening a door to something else entirely.
Besides, watching Persephone as she gawks at the architecture is enough for right now. Soon we get into the city though, turning down roads with clusters of white buildings on each side of the car and people crossing the streets.
Persephone seems to withdraw, looking vaguely nervous and chewing on her lower lip. She glances at me, her cheeks heating, and her fingers trace the lines of her collarbones.
“What happened?” I ask, scrutinizing her. “Did ye see something ye didn’t like?”
“No.” She shakes her head. Her cheeks darken and she frowns slightly. “I’m just tired.”
I narrow my eyes, but she looks away, clearing her throat. Sitting back in my seat, I look on as she grows more and more agitated. First, she picks at an invisible thread on her dress. Then she starts bouncing her knee, seeming jittery.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. A text from Ares, updating me on their latest exploits.
Heading to meet a contact in Cairo. Are we on track with getting our documents as planned?
I think for a moment before texting back. I’m on top of it.
When we get to downtown Valencia, I tell the driver to stop. “Just let us out here. And make sure the bags get to the villa.”
Persephone looks at me with those wide hazel eyes, swallowing. “Hades…”
I open the door and jerk my chin toward outside. “Come on. You need some fresh air.”
Climbing out of the backseat of the limo, I help Persephone out.
She shades her eyes again, glancing around with an anxious expression.
I bang on the roof of the car and it pulls away, leaving us on a cobblestone street.
To our right, there are shops in neat little rows of white sandstone.
To our left, the land starts to gradually give way to the sea.
I start to head down the street and Persephone hurries after me, tossing a glance at the crowded street just behind her. After a few moments, I have to ask.
“Are ye looking for someone?”
I crane my neck but the only people I see are a bunch of high school aged girls wearing Catholic school uniforms pouring from the steps of a church as we walk past. But Persephone?
Persephone flinches.
“No,” she says quickly, looking down at her feet. She draws her arms around herself, hugging herself. Her footsteps on the cobblestones are loud and hurried.
I glance around again and then shrug. “Okay. Our villa is up there…”
I point to a spot in the middle distance, sitting at the top of a hill.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. She nods and heads in the direction I pointed. My eyes stick to her body. I can tell something is off, but I can’t read her mind.
Her breathing is visibly faster, her chest rising and falling as she walks. And her golden green eyes flecked with brown rove over every face that she sees.
Expectant.
As soon as we pass the church, I grab her arm and pull her roughly into a little sheltered alcove just beside the next staircase.
Persephone looks up at me, her face narrowing and her expression growing hard. She wriggles and tries to shake off my steel grip. “Hades, will you let me go?”
A man passes on the street behind me. I know this because she looks at him, her eyes widening alarmingly. I turn my head and do a double take.
“What?” I ask. “Do ye know him?”
For a second, Persephone swallows and looks at the man. He’s just an average guy in black board shorts and a tight white t-shirt. He doesn’t give us a second look and shuffles on down the street, earbuds in his ears.
“Persephone,” I say, shaking her. “Do ye know him?”
She pauses, then shakes her head. “I… I don’t think so.”
She sounds like a mousy little girl. Not at all like the stubborn, odd girl that I’ve come to begin to know over the past weeks.
I grip both of her arms, forcing her to look up at me. She’s shaking like a leaf and I move closer out of some unknown instinct. “Who are ye looking for, lass?” I ask, scanning her face as I block her from view. Protecting her, I guess ye could say.
Her eyes shine with a sudden sheen of tears.
“I don’t know. I just… Whenever I am in public, especially around large crowds…
” She sucks in a breath to calm herself.
“I worry that Constantine might be there. Or he might have someone working for him, feeding information back to him.” She chews on her lip, her eyes sliding away behind me, hyper vigilant.
“He might have somebody walk right by me that could stab me with a syringe. My life would be forfeit, just like that.”
My brows rise. I glance over my shoulder. “Is there some reason that ye think he would know where to find us right now?”
She flushes, looking down at my chest. Her denial is barely a whisper. “No.”
I ease my grip, rucking my hands up and down her arms quickly and giving her a hard look. “Do ye think that I should worry about Constantine more than usual here in Valencia?”
She swallows and still doesn’t meet my gaze. “No.”
She sounds like she’s holding back tears. I don’t know what to do with her other than to get her out of the street so that she can stop shaking and jumping every time she hears a loud noise of any kind boom out of our vicinity.
I lick my lips and look behind me a final time. No one is approaching. There is nothing to raise any sort of alarms at all.
“All right.” Stepping out, I pull her away from the wall and put my arm around her. I tuck her under my arm and start to stroll toward the villa, casual yet with purpose. “Stay close. Okay?”
Persephone nods, her eyes fixed on the hilltop that I pointed out earlier. I tense up when I feel her slide an arm around my waist. But she looks so completely freaked out that I just let it slide.
I would be lying if I said that the gentle pressure of her arm pressed against my lower back didn’t feel sinfully good and at the same time extremely alarming.
I need to say something, anything, that will get us both talking. Get us out of our heads, just for a little while.
I end up with, “What did ye study at school?”
Her steps slow for a moment. She looks up at me, her brow furrowing. “What?”
I clear my throat, acutely aware of her arm against my back, my arm laid over her shoulders like a battle cloak.
As we walk, the houses that line the street begin to shift.
They grow larger at first. Then they disappear behind white sandstone fences.
Instead of seeing doors and windows close enough to touch, now there is only the occasional arched trellis and wrought iron gateway.
In between, smooth white sandstone gates rise above my head.
I think about my own question again, my face narrowing with concentration.
“Ye said ye went to art school. What did ye study?”
Persephone's lips quirk. Her eyes slide away, as ye often see when someone is trying to remember something. “Painting, mainly. A lot of studio work. But also, the history of painting. Art history, too.”
I purse my lips. “Those sound like the same thing.”
She slides me a glance. “They aren’t.”
We pass a large cemetery on the left, overlooking the sea. The street turns and begins to climb upward. The paved stones rise gently at first, getting steeper and more crowded further on.
“Who was yer favorite painter? Or… I guess, what period?” I narrow my eyes, feeling like I’m not entirely sure what I’m talking about. “That’s a thing, is it not?”
“It is.” Persephone looks up at me. I see a tinge of relief on her beautiful face. “I like the English and Spanish Romantics quite a bit. Friedrich, Lorraine, Roussy- Triosson, Goya. They were quite expressive.”
I nod. “I’ve heard of Goya, I think.”
She sends an amused glance my way but I’m not particularly offended by it. I’m an expert in a lot of things, but painters are just so clearly not part of my world.
Around us, the crowd has now thinned and mostly dispersed. As we hike upward, we leave behind the ocean with its rocky, sandy views. We also leave nearly everyone behind.
Persephone's breathing returns to normal. Her eyes stop roving. But I don’t drop my arm until we hit the steepest part of the hill. She squirms a little and I let her go.
My skin aches bittersweetly where her arm pressed into my lower back. I move away, huffing and puffing a little as we reach the hilltop. Glancing around, I see the gate to our villa on the left and a breathtaking vista spilling out from our feet, down the hill to the ocean.
“Not bad, eh?” I offer.
Persephone looks at me, giving me a small smile. “Now that there is no one on the street?” She looks around, sucking in a breath. “Yeah. It’s beautiful.”
I run a hand over the white sandstone wall, parking my chin toward the wrought iron gate. “This is our stop.”
She wrinkles her nose, pushing her cheek out with her tongue. “Thank you. For… you know. Talking to me. I think I was freaking out.”
I swing the gate open, smiling at her coolly. “Oh, ye think so?”
She blushes and ducks her head, shaking it as she heads through the gate. “I’m just trying to show a little gratitude, Hades.”
She bends over and plucks a tiny flower from the otherwise perfectly green carpet of grass. I can’t help but glance at her ass.
My cock stirs. The black fabric of her dress seems to grow thin as it stretches.
My mouth begins to water.
She straightens back up, looking at the tiny blossom clasped in her fingers.
I close the gate after us. The villa is set back a way, white sandstone rising against the crisp green of the well-manicured lawn.
But my eyes are glued to Persephone's ass as she strolls toward the villa. I can’t help it. Her ass sways ever so gently as she walks, seemingly well muscled and perfectly plump.
I tilt my head, trying to figure out whether she is wearing any panties. It’s impossible to tell. But for some reason, I want to believe that she’s not.
That I could skim her dress up her legs, exposing her flawless ass. And there would be absolutely nothing between me and her. I could push her down with one hand, spread her thighs with the other, and press my whole face into her creamy ass—
“Hades?”
I blink a couple of times. I’m staring off into space, ignoring what is in front of my face. My neck heats and I realize that I have a full-fledged erection.
I clear my throat and try to subtly draw her attention away as I adjust my hard cock in my slacks. “What?”
She gives me a funny look then turns away, walking toward the front door of the villa. I trudge after her, feeling like a true villain.