Chapter 5
Hades
Thanatos is already in my office when I arrive, sprawled in one of the leather chairs like he owns the place. He's got a tumbler of my best whiskey in one hand and his phone in the other, scrolling through what I suspect are security feeds.
"She tried the door three times," he says without looking up. "Then the windows. Then she sat on the floor and cried for approximately four minutes before pulling herself together and heading for the bathroom."
I pour myself a drink, wishing I could enjoy the sweet oblivion of being drunk. "You have cameras in my room?"
He snorts. "The one you don't actually use, yes." He takes a sip of his whiskey. "I've got cameras all over the house, and that big ass window makes the room a liability."
"I like the window," I say. "It's a hell of a view." And it's one of the reasons I paid millions for the condo despite the security measures I needed to take.
Thanatos rolls his eyes before staring at me with an expression I can't quite place. "Did you really need to lock her inside?" he asks.
I place my glass on my table, taking a moment to take a breath. "I did it to keep her from harming herself."
He shakes his head. "She's mortal, Hades," he says, as though I am unaware. "That kind of panic can lead to stupid decisions. Like trying to climb out a window of a house that sits on the edge of a cliff."
"I made certain that they are locked, with magic."
"She doesn't know that," he says. "She could get harmed trying."
I lean back in my chair. "Luckily, she has you watching."
He snorts again, finishing his drink before he gets up from his chair. He goes over to the bookcase where I have an illumination of the Hades and Persephone myth.
"So. Persephone's back. That's...unexpected."
"Is it?" I close my eyes, picturing the last time I saw my wife, held her.
Even though she is so close to me, I long for her in a way that feels incredibly visceral.
Staying away is harder than I expected. Not that I plan to tell Thanatos that.
He is my closest friend, but there are some things that need to be kept to myself. "The Fates said she'd return."
Thanatos leans against the wall. "They didn't mention she'd come back with no memory, no healing, and a tendency to attack you with houseplants."
Despite everything, I almost smile. "The vines were impressive, especially considering she has no idea what she is doing."
"I felt her power from three floors down." His expression goes serious. "She shouldn't be able to do that if she can't heal. It doesn't make sense."
"I know."
"And the cult finding her—"
"Just shows how powerful they've become." I grab the file that Zeus sent to me. "There are gaps in her file. Years missing, especially when she's younger."
Thanatos nods. "I noticed that."
"What do you think?"
"I think it's an interesting coincidence that Zeus managed to get you all this information just before the cult went after her."
"I'm aware, Thanatos." I drain my glass. "Zeus has been playing me since we both sprung from primordial ooze."
The door opens before he can respond, and Hecate walks in without knocking. She never knocks.
She operates as though she owns every room that she walks into.
Her dark hair is pulled back, and her eyes, ancient and knowing, sweep the room before landing on me. Her heels click against the floor, echoing across the room.
"You locked her in," she says flatly. "I tried the door, but you barred it with magic."
"Good evening to you too, Hecate." I don't argue with her. There's nothing to say.
"Don't." She moves to the bar and pours herself wine. "I felt the power surge from across the city. Spring magic, raw and uncontrolled. I haven't felt that in—" She stops, takes a breath, and turns to me. "Is it really her?"
There's hope in her voice, and I know that desire well.
"Yes."
"You're certain?"
"I'm certain."
Hecate is quiet for a long moment, staring into her wine. When she finally speaks, her voice is softer. "Why have you locked her away?"
"She doesn't remember who she is…" I trail off, trying to control myself. "Who I am."
Hecate's eyes get larger. "Nothing?"
"Not me, not herself, not—" I stop, jaw tight. "Nothing."
"Fuck." Hecate sits in the other chair, crossing her legs. She scowls at me. "And you responded to this by imprisoning her in your bedroom. Brilliant plan. Very romantic."
"She's not a prisoner—"
"You've caged her in with magic," Thanatos interjects, ratting me out. "That's literally the definition of a prisoner."
I glare at him. "She's protected. The cult knows where she lives. They know where she works. If I let her go back—"
"Then explain that to her," Hecate says. "Treat her like an adult who can make her own decisions—"
"She doesn't believe I'm a god," I say. "And she's vulnerable. Her power is out of control, and I can't help her if she doesn't even believe she is who I tell her she is."
"Can you blame her?" Hecate raises an eyebrow. "She grew up in the mortal world. Who the hell would guess we still exist, let alone assume they are one of us."
"I showed her—"
"Oh, you showed her." Hecate's voice drips with sarcasm. "I'm sure that terrifying display of power really put her at ease."
Thanatos snorts into his drink.
"She needed proof," I say through gritted teeth. "And then her own power manifested, so clearly it worked—"
"Her power manifested because she was probably terrified," Hecate snaps. "Divine magic responds to emotion. You scared her, Hades. Probably traumatized her, and now she's locked in your bedroom thinking she's either been kidnapped by a lunatic or having a psychotic break."
The words hit harder than they should. Because she's right. I saw it in Ophelia's eyes—the fear, the doubt, the desperate need to believe this wasn't real.
Persephone never looked at me like that. Not even when I'd taken her into the Underworld. She'd trusted me, some might have said naively, but she did.
Ophelia…did not.
"I didn't have a choice," I say quietly. "The cult was going to take her. Use her. If I hadn't intervened—"
"I'm not saying you shouldn't have saved her." Hecate's voice softens. "I'm saying you need to give her a reason to trust you. Locking her up won't do that." She flicks her long hair over her shoulder. "Especially when you consider the circumstances."
Silence settles over the room. Thanatos refills his drink. Hecate studies me with those too-knowing eyes. And I sit quietly.
"What do we know about the cult?" I ask finally, changing the subject because I can't, won't, think about the look on Ophelia's face when she realized the door was locked.
Thanatos straightens, back to business. This is what he does.
"Mother Callista runs the operation. She's got maybe thirty devoted followers, another hundred sympathizers.
They operate out of a compound in the desert, the thirty, but she's got people all over the world.
Years ago, there were rumblings…" His eyes narrow.
"About?"
He and Hecate look at one another. They work together, and they have for centuries. I'm not na?ve enough to believe that they don't have secrets together.
But I won't allow them to have secrets regarding this. Not when it comes to Persephone.
"If you two—"
"They tightened security for a time. They went further underground, and we thought—"
Hecate clears her throat. "I thought that perhaps Persephone had returned."
Her words are like a slap, and I whip my head towards her, my shadows leaking out of my skin. "You thought she'd been reborn, and you never mentioned it?" I growl.
She doesn't flinch as my power fills the room. "You are supposed to be part of my security."
"And I made sure things were secure. I had no true intel," she snaps. "It was simply rumblings, and I decided not to share so as not to get your hopes up."
"Those rumblings turned out to be true," I snap, reminding her. "I could have—"
"Kidnapped a child? When we heard these rumors, she would have been a toddler."
I look away.
"You felt her return, you told me as much," she says. "But she would have been a child."
"I would have ensured her safety. We wouldn't be in these circumstances."
"The cult clearly was in the dark," Thanatos says. "She wouldn't have needed to be kidnapped if they'd raised her. Maybe they knew of her birth, but at some point, they lost track of her."
"Small miracles," I snap.
"What you should be concerning yourself with is the leader."
"Mother Callista?"
Hecate nods. "I've traced her origins back as far as I could."
"And?"
Her lips thin. "I believe she somehow carries Demeter's essence inside of her."
"Why?" Thanatos asks. "From what I've found, outside of leading a cult, she is not remarkable."
Hecate rolls her eyes. "Then you weren't very thorough," she says. Thanatos opens his mouth to argue, but I hold up a hand, stopping him.
"If Mother Callista does not have any divine essence, then she looks remarkable considering I was able to track her back to 1856 London."
Thanatos's jaw snaps shut, and if we were discussing a different topic, I would have laughed.
"That essence would connect her to Persephone, which is probably how she found her."
"How is that possible? Demeter is—" Thanatos doesn't finish his statement.
"Dormant. Sleeping. Dead. Whatever you want to call it." Hecate says. "But Demeter was clever, and she knew rituals, dark ones. I wouldn't be surprised if she figured out how to keep part of herself back."
"So the cult leader is what…Demeter?" Thanatos asks.
I shake my head. "If she has her essence, no, but it would keep Mother Callista alive for longer than a normal mortal lifespan."
"Based on what we know," Hecate says. "I've never known a god to share their divine essence with a mortal."
"Fuck."
Hecate laughs. "She can be killed. She's like an—" She waves her hand, searching for the word. "—an echo."
My blood runs cold. This adds a new layer to things. Persephone told me her mother wanted her to help keep her essence alive, and I wonder if Demeter found a way.
"The prophecy—" Thanatos starts, his eyes wide as he looks at me.
"I know what the fucking prophecy says." I'm on my feet before I realize it, pacing to the windows. The Strip glitters below, neon and sin and blissful ignorance. "They think if they—if she—"
"If Persephone bears a child," Hecate says quietly, "the cult believes it will restore the old order. Bring back the gods who've faded. Demeter first."
"Over my dead body," I growl. "They will never get close enough to harm her."
"You're not the only one," Hecate says. "None of us want those who've faded back. It would be a blood bath. Gods vying for power, trying to restore their previous power…" She shivers. "No, thanks. I prefer the world the way it is."
"And I don't plan on allowing my wife to be a broodmare," I remind her.
"Then we all agree," Hecate says. "We stop the cult."
I press my fingertips against my temples. When I look at Hecate, I can see that there is something else in her eyes.
"What?" I snap.
She bites the inside of her cheek.
"Say it, Hecate." I snap.
"I think," Hecate says carefully, "that you need to remember she's not the Persephone you knew. She's Ophelia. A mortal woman who's had her entire reality shattered in one night. She needs time. Space. Information."
"And if the cult comes for her while I'm giving her space?"
"Then we kill them." Thanatos says it like he's discussing the weather. "All of them. Send a message that she's under your protection."
"Our protection," Hecate corrects. "This isn't just about you, Hades. If the gods start waking up, we're all at risk."
She's right. I know she's right. But the thought of other gods anywhere near Ophelia makes something primal and possessive rise in my chest.
"I need to know she's safe," I say finally. "I need—"
"You need to trust her," Hecate interrupts. "Give her information. Let her make her own choices. She manifested power tonight, Hades. She's not as helpless as you think."
"She's injured. Possibly concussed. And she thinks she's losing her mind."
"Then help her." Hecate stands, setting down her wine. "I'll ward the penthouse. Nothing will get in or out without us knowing. I'll also bring her some clothes, some food. Talk to her like she's a human, not a puppet."
"You think she will be more comfortable with you?" I ask, surprised. Hecate isn't exactly maternal.
"Would you prefer Thanatos?" she asks.
We both look at him. He raises his hands. "I'm excellent with terrified women. Very soothing."
"Hecate it is," I mutter.
She moves toward the door, then pauses. "She asked you to let her go, didn't she?"
I don't answer.
"And you said no." It's not a question. Hecate's expression is unreadable. "Be careful, Hades. Love and captivity don't mix well. One of them always wins, and it's usually not love."
She leaves before I can respond.
Thanatos finishes his drink and stands. "I'll take care of the cult. Quietly. We'll start with surveillance, figure out their next move."
"Thank you."
He pauses at the door. "For what it's worth? I'm glad she's back. Even if she doesn't remember. Even if this is complicated as hell." He smirks. "You've been miserable for centuries. It's been exhausting."
"Get out," I say, rolling my eyes.
His laugh echoes down the hallway, and I'm alone in my office, staring out at my city.
I've lived in Vegas since before it was settled. I knew, even then, that the energy of the place would attract those who would help grow my power. And yet, as much as I've come to love the city, I've been lonely.
Sighing, I drink more, thinking about Persephone, or rather, Ophelia—it's difficult to think of her by her mortal name.
Hecate was right—I should go to Persephone. Should explain. Should do what Hecate said and give her information, choices, trust.
But I don't move.
Because the truth is, I don't know if I can let her go. Not again. Not when I just got her back.
Even if she doesn't remember me.
Even if she hates me for it.
I'd rather have her hate me and be alive than lose her to the cult. To Zeus. To whatever fate the prophecy has in store.
My phone buzzes. A text from an unknown number.
I hear congratulations are in order. We should talk about our mutual interest. - Z
Zeus.
Of course.
I delete the message and pour another drink.
It's going to be a long night.