Chapter 16 Hades
Hades
I lie awake in the middle of my bed, staring up at the ceiling. There is a pattern of stars repeated there, cutouts and slightly gray shadows. I exhale deeply and try to figure out what the stars remind me of.
Something vaguely Moroccan or Turkish, perhaps.
I groan and shift onto my side. Cramming a pillow under my head, my thoughts turn once more to Persephone. The back of my neck warms as I relive the last few days.
She’s been tiptoeing around, trying to remain unnoticed, looking at me with that wide hazel gaze. She’s clearly scared of me now, ever since I lost my temper and beat that man in the coffee shop.
I flex my fists. Across the knuckles of my right hand is a healing cut created by that bastard’s front teeth as I knocked them in.
It wasn’t my fault. The stranger provoked me by mercilessly bullying his wife and his young son in front of me. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.
If anyone had stepped in even once when I was a child, straightened my father out like I did to that stranger…
Well, it probably wouldn’t have changed anything. But I still can’t stand bullies.
It’s just unfortunate that Persephone seems as skittish as a kicked cat when I’m around her now. I haven’t raised a hand to her.
I would never hit a woman.
I sigh, letting my breath out slowly. Rolling out of bed, I pull on my black slacks and a black silk button up. I check my phone for news from Ares and Eros but there is nothing.
My mouth pulls into a tight grimace. I pull on my heavy black combat boots automatically; it would be strange to be caught with bare feet, even here in my own house.
I leave my jacket behind, though I do reach across the bed and pluck a handgun from underneath one of the pillows. I tuck it into the waistband of my pants smoothly and robotically. It’s a gesture that comforts me in its regularity.
No one will catch me unaware and unprepared if I can help it.
When I step out into the hallway, bound for Persephone's room, I hear a sound. Faint but high pitched, just the tenor of someone scratching their nails down a faraway chalkboard. I have no idea what it is but it’s enough to make goosebumps break out across my entire body.
I pull my weapon, listening very carefully. The noise stops after a second. But it is followed by a very low creak.
If I had to guess, I would say that someone has just breached the back door.
Fuck.
Someone found out that I’m in Valencia, it seems.
I stand still, my heart hammering in my chest, thinking through the possible exits.
The main stairway descends right into the path of the intruder or intruders. Normally I would love using the stairs as cover while I shoot down at the trespasser.
But if I have Persephone with me, that way would be too dangerous. There are too many factors that I can’t control.
Damn. Maybe we can go out the window in my room and jump into the big oak tree in the yard. I don’t love being rushed into any plans but time is of the essence in this case.
I spin towards Persephone's room, keeping my footsteps light. An acrid smell reaches my nose and slows my steps.
It takes a second for me to register the smell as something burning.
Fuck!
I hurry to open Persephone's door, moving stealthily as possible. There is a loud thump downstairs, and the acrid scent of smoke fills the air.
Persephone is already sitting up in her bed, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, her red lips standing out from her suddenly pale face. As I enter her room she swallows and pushes the comforter off her body.
“What’s going on?”
Her voice is high and tight, tension practically coming off her in waves. She’s wearing a large bulky sweater and nothing else; for a second, there is war within me for my attention, because I am fairly sure I can make out the shape of her nipples through her sweater.
I lick my lips, forcing my mind back to the moment at hand.
“Hades!” she says, a wild look in her eyes.
I raise my finger to my lips. “Shhh.” I beckon for her to move closer. As she scrambles to the edge of the bed, I lean down and whisper close to her ear. “Someone is in the house. The air smells like they have started a fire.”
Persephone's lips part. Her hands fly to her mouth. “Oh my god.”
I hear a stair squeak. “Shit. They are coming. We have to move.”
I head to her window, pushing the curtain aside to peer out. The tree is a little farther from here but there is a thin ledge that runs along the rooftop. The far edge of the rooftop practically dead ends into the twisted, gnarled branches of the oak.
Heaving the window sash up, I jerk my head toward the warm night air. Persephone has pulled on a pair of ballet flats and looks around.
“Let me just find my iPad,” she says.
My eyes narrow into slits. “Fuck the iPad. We have to go.”
She licks her lips and nods almost absently. I move toward her with a growl, and she fixes me with a wide-eyed look.
“I’m coming,” she says, raising her hands. She sidesteps in order to avoid me, scuttling toward the door.
Trying to avoid being touched, I suppose. But I don’t care what she wants at all. As soon as she approaches the window, I grab her by the arms and hoist her outside.
She makes a soft sound of complaint, but I ignore it. Instead, I’m listening intently for footsteps outside in the corridor while I jam my big body through the window. I take a breath and lower the window sash before I turn to size up the situation.
We are standing on a very narrow ledge. Beyond the little strip of roof is the darkened yard. Other than the tree at the far end of the roof, I can’t make out a damned thing.
“Go,” I grate out, jerking my head toward the tree. “Be quick.”
She gives me a dazed glance and then starts cautiously making her way down the long edge. Listening intently, I realize that there is someone clunking around upstairs.
It won’t take them very long to realize that we’re not in bed. And if it were me searching for someone, my next logical guess would be to look out the window.
“Hurry,” I say, low and urgent.
Persephone nods and picks up the pace. Her eyes are glued on the darkness below, gauging the distance.
“Just get to the tree,” I hiss. “Quickly, lass.”
It’s only a few hundred feet but it feels interminable. Persephone clings to the house and stares at the tree like it’s her only lifeline.
Below, the smoke rises in the air. I can actually feel the air growing hotter but now is not the time to say anything.
My brain is trying to think through all the possibilities of where we should go once we make it to the ground.
Persephone gets to the end of the ledge and tries to turn.
She gives me a heart attack when she stumbles and throws her arms out, trying to balance herself.
I reach out and grab her, keeping her from tumbling off the roof.
Her relieved glance is all the thanks I need. She takes another two steps and then jumps to the tree.
Then all hell breaks loose. Behind me, I hear a distinct shout. I brace as a shot whooshes past my ear.
“Fuck,” I mutter.
Another shot is fired, this one sinking into the house very close to my head.
Time slows. I have to make a decision. Jump or maybe get shot.
I know which one has better odds.
I drag in a huge breath and launch myself off the roof, covering my head. I hear two more gunshots before I hit the ground hard, landing on my right leg. The ground beneath me is soft grass but I still land awkwardly, the breath knocked out of my lungs in a sharp jolt.
I see Persephone climbing down the tree trunk and I start to rise. Pain shoots through my right leg but I ignore it as best as I can.
I jog the couple of steps to where Persephone stands, breathing hard. I grab her hand and turn toward the back of the lot, where I know there is another fence.
And then I begin to run.