49. Barrett
BARRETT
A knock rang at my door, and I groaned as I rolled over. Sunlight leaked from between the curtains near my bed, dappling the room in streaks of gold from the rising sun.
“Get dressed. Hades is ready to see us,” Atlas said from the other side of the door.
“About fucking time,” I muttered. It had been four days since we’d arrived, only to be barred in these rooms, unable to explore his city until our meeting.
While he provided us with plenty of things to eat, drink, smoke, and fuck, something within me had grown anxious, the flames within my soul as restless as a scaled beast pacing within the confines of a cage.
A soft sigh dragged my attention to the sleeping female beside me, her rose-colored skin a stark contrast to the white sheets, the long, delicate tip of one of her ears peaking from her hair. The sheets ruffled enough to expose the dip and rise of her waist, sloping into the curve of her ass.
The last couple of days had been a haze, my mind constantly returning to Thalia and Micah.
Every night, Hades had sent dancers for entertainment, and while they were skilled in the art of dancing and seduction, no matter how many females I fucked, I was left feeling empty, unsatisfied, needing more.
My thoughts remained elsewhere despite Atlas’ antics, and our conversations I could barely remember.
I couldn’t keep from wondering how Micah and Thalia were; wondering if Thalia would ever look at me the same after the way I had treated her.
Maybe I could find a place to lose myself in the Godsrealm, never set foot in the Mortalrealm again, leave Micah and Thalia to their happiness and avoid hurting her ever again. The possibility had plagued me over the last few days, and I’d warred with myself on the matter for too long.
I pushed myself out of bed and headed for the armoire, where the servants had provided us with clothes to wear during our stay.
Regardless of what I decided, I would have to return to the Mortalrealm once more to fill Damien in on everything I’d learned, tie up loose ends before I found somewhere to occupy my time.
Would Hades have use of an immortal in his capital?
He seemed to have use of Atlas from across the veil; perhaps he could find a purpose for me within his court.
A dull ringing filled my ears, and for a moment, the room around me shifted, blurring, and from the corner of my eye, I could have sworn I saw a figure sitting on the bed. As I blinked it vanished, the ringing fading, and I shook my head before pulling a shirt over my head.
Dressed in the fine attire befitting the noble houses of Hades’ domain, I stalked toward the door, not caring to wake or acknowledge the slumbering female in my bed who, for all I knew, had no name.
I didn’t care to know it.
“Apologies for the wait,” a deep voice echoed through the chamber as we entered through the arched doorway, the guards’ attentive eyes tracking our every movement as we passed them.
I wasn’t sure if this was intended to be a museum or trophy room for all the objects on display around us. Pedestals lined the walls, illuminated in a blue glow, all except one where the male who had spoken stood.
He was tall, a dark metal crown adorning his short black hair, which dusted the top of his ears in subtle waves.
His onyx eyes drifted from me to Atlas, an ancient energy lighting them.
At his side was the fae male I’d met countless times—Hades’ emissary, Santor.
Santor was dressed in fine clothes, nothing like what I had ever seen him in on the other side of the Veil, his short horns polished to a near glow, his tail swaying back and forth.
“It’s been a while,” Atlas said as he drew closer and threw his arms around Hades, who welcomed him with an equally warm embrace .
“You’ve been a stranger lately,” Hades said as they released each other.
“I’ve been busy keeping things in line on the other side.
The riff-raff can’t be left unattended, lest they ruin everything I’ve worked hard for,” Atlas said with a huffed laugh, and the sounds of their conversation faded, the ringing returning to my ears, a weight filling my bones as I looked around the room.
Giggles echoed through the hall, and I caught a glimpse of a girl with cornsilk hair disappearing through a doorway. I frowned, the room twisting and writhing like a dream.
“Hades, this is Barrett.”
I blinked as Atlas’ voice cut through the ringing, and I looked back at them.
“Ah, we finally meet,” Hades said, brows rising. “Atlas has spoken highly of you. He tells me you’re the man to get jobs done, no matter how dirty.”
I shrugged as I slipped my hands into the pockets of my velvet coat, eyes slipping to where the girl had disappeared. “I guess you could say that.”
“I may have use of your services in the future,” Hades mused.
“You got quite the collection here,” Atlas said as he looked around the room. “How have I never seen this room before?”
“Well, that would be due to the fact that, to many, this room doesn’t exist,” Hades said, his gaze sweeping across the room.
“I’ve spent many centuries gathering magical artifacts under the orders of The Twelve, whether they still possess the powers or curses inlaid in the fabric of their creation or drained of every ounce of it. This is where they are safeguarded.”
So he was the keeper of dangerous magical artifacts, it seemed.
“They’ve proven of use to me from time to time,” he added, releasing the clasp of a long, ornate pipe from his belt. “But none of The Twelve need know of such ventures.”
He struck a match before lighting whatever herbs were held in the bowl of the pipe and drawing in a deep drag on it before letting the smoke slip from his lips in a cloud of purplish gray.
“I don’t know how anyone learned of its whereabouts, let alone made it past my security.
” His gaze slid back to the empty pedestal.
“And this was the only thing taken, which tells me they knew exactly what they were looking for.”
“I hear this particular object is quite dangerous in the wrong hands,” I said, tilting my head.
“Charon’s siphon,” he said, black eyes hardening before he drew in a few puffs from his pipe.
His anger heated the air, the blue flame sconces on the walls growing in unstable strength.
“One gifted to him by Celestia’s fallen mate.
” Hades’ voice dropped an octave, as if muttering to himself, the smoke billowing from his lips as he spoke in short puffs.
“Should his name remain sealed with him. ”
“Do you know who might’ve stolen it?” Atlas asked. “Who might have wanted it?”
Santor folded his arms behind his back and held his head high. “The guards who were on watch that night have no memory of what transpired, as if someone had taken an hour of their lives and wiped it from existence.”
I let out a sigh as I turned my attention to the empty pedestal. “So no one knows what the person looks like, where they might have come from, or where they might have gone?”
“The only thing I can tell you is that I felt their presence within my chamber the moment they entered,” Hades said.
“And I would know it again in a heartbeat if I ever crossed paths with them. It was tainted, manipulative, and touched with moonlight, which left me wondering if it might be an immortal.”
Atlas and I exchanged glances as Hades lifted the pipe to his lips once more to take another hit.
“It remained within the Godsrealm for some time until it suddenly vanished a little over 20 years ago.” Hades paced through the room, and we fell into step at his side.
“I sent servants to every region, every continent across the Godsrealm beyond Elythias, but no matter where they searched there was no sign of it.”
“Which is why you think it’s in the Mortalrealm,” I said.
He nodded. “I would send my servants to find whoever took it, but the laws of The Twelve prevent me from setting foot in the Mortalrealm, let alone interfering in their world by sending fae to conduct a retrieval.”
My eyes slid to Santor as he stopped to look at a nearby pedestal displaying a golden orb, the plate etched with an inscription in the old language.
‘Lover’s Sacrifice. Crafted by the witch Medea.’
I remained wary of the fae male, had aways felt unsure of him, of his loyalties—whether they remained with Hades, Atlas, or perhaps even only himself. Perhaps that was any of the fae or the gods, though. They dealt in trickery and deceit, only doing whatever benefitted them most.
“You still not getting along with Damien?” Hades asked.
Atlas scoffed. “He’s too closed off to the possibilities of what we could be if we stopped catering to the humans...”
Their voices quieted once more, the dull ringing filling my ears and, for a moment I could have sworn I heard Thalia’s voice whispering into my ear, her presence pressing into my back as if she stood behind me.
I’m worried about you.
I turned as the room darkened, melting like paint around me, save for her figure standing before a pedestal several feet away. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes full of the hurt I’d seen that night.
“You good, Barrett?" Atlas asked, brows furrowed.
I blinked and she was gone, the ringing vanishing once more, and I turned to find Atlas looking at me with a frown .
“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “Thought I heard something.”
“Some of these items are prone to stirring up trouble despite the warding,” Hades said with a laugh.
“How could you have an audience without me?” a melodic female voice echoed from the entrance of the hall, and I turned to find a female floating toward us with the same grace as Selene.
Her cheeks were dusted with a rich blush, her copper hair glittering with gold chains, the waves pulled back in complex braids that caged the remaining locks left to cascade down her back.
The fabric of her soft green gown floated and swayed around her feet as she approached us.
“Apologies, my dearest,” Hades said, and I realized it was the goddess Persephone.
“Atlas. Staying out of trouble, I hope,” she said, giving him a knowing smile.
Atlas bowed before her and placed a kiss on the back of her hand. “Never.”
“I apologize if my mate kept you waiting long,” she said, looping her arm through his. “We’ve been attending to some delicate matters in the south. I hope he has been a better host. The fact an object of such power was stolen under his watch has him very stressed.”
I glanced around the room, paranoia leaving me restless, wondering when another hallucination might surface.
Was I still feeling the lingering effects of whatever I’d done the night before?
The hallucinations didn’t return, and air filled my lungs as I tried to regain my composure and focus on the conversation.
“The Twelve remain unaware of its theft, and I would like it to remain that way. My brother is paranoid enough. I don’t need him poking his nose in my domain,” Hades warned.
“The retrieval of this object is of the utmost importance. In the wrong hands, not only could The Siphon steal the soul of a god, but it could also allow the wielder to manipulate the soul, possibly even bend it to their will if the soul was weak enough.”
What use could someone have for an object of that power in the Mortalrealm?
Hades’ eyes shifted to Atlas. “I implore you to do everything in your power to find me that Siphon.”