Sweet Hell (19 page)

"Keep the change,” he repeated. “Josie Marino."

The hackles rose on the back of her neck. She whispered, “How do you know my name?"

He just laughed softly, a low rumble that was so deep it seemed to make the counter between them vibrate. She held it to steady herself and stared at the man.

He was handsome. With those eyes, he could be nothing but arrestingly handsome. He was tall, even sitting down. And even though his dark suit camouflaged his slim frame, she could tell there were taut muscles under there. He radiated an aura of deadly strength, frightening power. His face was chiseled, slashed at the cheeks by sharp, jutting cheekbones. His hairline was peaked and his dark hair slicked back, like Bela Lugosi in the vampire movies, and his lips were so pink they were almost red. Even though he stared back at her with clear interest, there was also an air of boredom about him. As if he'd seen it all before.

"Word of mouth about good coffee spreads quickly. Anyone who's anyone knows Josie Marino makes the best coffee. I hear you're an angel of caffeine."

Angel of caffeine
. Dionysus had called her that.

As hope and terrible dread rippled through her core, threatening to flatten her, Josie looked around to ensure Angelo was out of earshot. Then she whispered to the stranger, “Who are you?"

"I'm known by so many names.” Once again, he laughed, making a chill run down her back. “My personal favorite is ‘O Boring One.’ That's what my wife calls me."

It was hard to believe any woman married to that man could call him boring. He was terrifying with those cold, all-seeing eyes, but definitely not boring. Even as she decided that, something in his words resonated with her. A faint memory of a woman calling her husband boring.

He grinned at her as if she were catching on, and as if he could read her mind.

Persephone had called Hades boring.

"You're...” she stammered. “You're ... Ha—"

Angelo walked in, cutting off the words in her mouth. “Josie, I gotta go. I promised Jessica I'd meet her. I'm already late."

Her brain reeled. Jessica. Angelo's new girlfriend.

But Hades, Lord of the Dead, was sitting in front of her...

"I should go,” the Lord of the Dead said simply. “Thanks for the coffee."

"No!” She held out a hand. “I mean, I'll close, Angelo. You go."

Her brother sized up the man. “You sure about that? I don't feel right leaving you."

Hades smiled. It was almost a comforting smile, although she had the suspicion he could look a lot less comforting if he chose.

"Yeah, go ahead,” she reassured him. “This gentleman is a ... friend. I'll close up. Good night, Angelo."

With another look back, Angelo took his leave. She waited for the door to close behind him and then fixed her eyes on the god Hades. “Is he alive?"

"Dionysus?” He chortled. “Oh, yes, he's very much alive, and a pain in my ass, thank you very much."

Josie had to brace herself on the counter as relief and terror fought for dominance of her being. Swallowing her emotions as best as she could, she looked up at her lover's jailor. “You have to take me to him. Please."

Hades leaned his elbows on the counter and made a steeple of his fingers. And smiled that bone-chilling smile again. “I don't have to do a single thing for you."

Her heart sank. This was the man, the beast, who'd devised each and every pit in hell. The one who'd created each miserable level. “Then why are you here? Have you come to gloat?"

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. “Maybe I have. What of it?"

"Oh, nothing. But it would make you one sick bastard.” She didn't care who he was. If he was truly here to torture her, she'd tell him off first.

"Perhaps,” he teased, in good spirits now, “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. Mt. Olympus is abuzz. Dionysus is the second god this year to relinquish his immortality. First Eryx. That was a blow to all of us. And now Dionysus? Zeus's own son? Ooh. The gods are not happy. Not happy at all."

She fought the urge to punch the arrogant son of a bitch. So the gods weren't happy? Well, she could give a flying fuck! “Maybe you should talk to your wife. If she hadn't created the spell to bind Eurydice, none of this would have happened."

He sighed. “Ah, Persephone. I fear our lifestyle has been hard on her. She has so few friends in Hades. It's made her a tad grasping."

Okay. She was definitely going to deck this guy. “Are. You going. To help him?"

"I like you, Josie Marino,” he commented, in such an off-handed fashion she was convinced he was indeed bored. “You do make good coffee."

Just then Josie heard the latch at the back door of the bakery, followed by the sound of the door opening. She poked her head in back, only to see Angelo rambling back in.

"Forgot my wallet,” he called from the back room. “Good night!"

She turned back to let Hades know exactly what she thought of him and all the gods who had deserted one of their own in such vicious fashion.

But he was gone.

The only sign he was ever there was the twenty-dollar bill on the counter.

"No,” she murmured, resisting the urge not to pull her hair out. “No!"

With his disappearance, she watched something else disappear. Her only real chance at seeing Dionysus again.

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Chapter 15

He appeared in her dreams again that night.

At first, she was in his temple, all alone. Dressed in a Grecian robe, one gathered so perfectly at the waist it made her body look like a beautiful sculpture. Someone—she didn't know who—had curled her hair. It was bound up high on her head, with ringlets tumbling toward her shoulder. And there was a stunning, golden armband twined around her bicep. She felt like a princess. Much as Ariadne must have felt.

She had come to lay vines of grapes at the shrine in his temple. Had come, as a young Greek woman, hoping to receive just a glimpse of her favorite deity. The one she'd prayed to often, the utterly masculine god whom all the girls in her village idolized from afar. But she fancied only she knew the secret of the vines. The last time she'd laid them at his shrine, she was sure she'd heard the voice. The deep, stirring voice that called to her, telling her he knew and appreciated the way she loved him.

Who would not love Dionysus? Of all the gods, he had the reputation for being the kindest and most forgiving. Ready with a laugh and hearty enthusiasm for festivals held in his honor. And, as all her friends could attest from gazing upon his statue in the temple, he was the most beautiful.

She herself had never seen any real people who looked like the statue of Dionysus. The men in her village were squat and hairy and liked to spit all over the ground. But the young god was all manly elegance and virility!

Bending as gracefully as she could, she laid the grapes before the shrine. And because no one else was present, she plucked one from its little stem and popped it into her mouth, savoring the sweet juice as it coated her tongue.

It was then she heard the laugh. She turned, and saw him. So handsome in his robes and laurel leaves.

"By all the gods,” she whispered, awestruck.

He continued laughing as he prowled toward her. “My beautiful one,” he said, the deep tone caressing her shivering frame, as surely as his strong hands were now caressing her bare arms. “I had hoped you would return."

"Kind Dionysus,” she whispered, feeling his palm slide up her forearm, her shoulder, down to her waist. “Good Dionysus. I have tried to please you."

"You do please me, little one,” he murmured against her cheek. He leaned into her, letting her feel the bulky desire between his legs. “And now I shall endeavor to please you."

The god picked her up, oh so easily, as if she weighed less than the feather of a swan, and laid her on his altar. With confident fingers, he drew the hem of her gown up her calves, past her knees, up, up to her waist. As she was bared before him, she quivered with an excitement she'd never felt in her young life. And when his beautiful head lowered, kissing and gently licking the spot she'd saved for the man who would become her husband, she gave up all hope of ever marrying at all.

She knew, without a doubt, that she was the bride of Dionysus. Forever more.

Josie woke up in a sweat in the darkness of her room, still feeling his heat on her sex. For a short moment, she lay still in bed, praying he had found a way back to her. But then she realized the truth, closed her eyes to the night once again, and turned her wet face into her pillow.

When she awoke, Hades was waiting for her.

She rubbed her bleary eyes, sure she was making up the large, intimidating man who was squished into the dainty corner chair she'd inherited from her grandmother. But then he spoke, and she knew he was real.

"Good morning, Josie. I'd like to say I hope you slept well, but I think we both know that's not the case."

She glared at him, wondering how much he'd seen. Had he been in her room all night, those cold, pale eyes trained on her? Had he witnessed her shameful need for the man she could never have again? “I'm guessing you're not here for coffee."

He made a noise which would have sounded like a laugh, if it hadn't sounded so much like gathering clouds. “You're funny, Josie Marino. I like you."

"I'm honored. What do you want?"

"No chitchat, I see.” He stood, as quick and efficient as a businessman heading to the next meeting. “Very well. Get dressed and come with me.” With that, he was out of her bedroom and already waiting in the hall outside.

As her heart began to palpitate, Josie launched herself out of bed like one of Orpheus's cannoli rockets, and got herself clothed as quickly as humanly possible.

And prayed.

Within moments, they were standing at the door. The same door in hell she'd entered with Dionysus, only to find Eurydice hanging from the hated wall. Hades had his hand on the knob, but stopped to look at her before he turned it. He opened his mouth, but didn't speak, still clearly mulling over what to say.

Her anticipation got the better of her, and she forgot to be polite. “Open it! What are you waiting for?"

He grinned, and she felt an icy tongue licking at her spine. Okay, maybe she shouldn't be so rude to the king of death, but he was sort of asking for it.

"You're a pushy little thing when you choose to be,” he declared. “Luckily for you, I like it. No, you're not going in there, Josie."

Her heart fell into her shoes. “But Dionysus is in there! Look, if this is some sort of mean game..."

"On the contrary,” he replied, as calm as an experienced hanging judge. “But we can't just barge in. There are some rules. I'll need you to listen to me carefully."

"Rules, rules, rules! Oh, you do love the sound of your own voice, don't you?” She was just about ready to stamp her feet. “Please."

His red lips spread in delight, exposing sharp, white canines. He took his time and eyed her from top to bottom. “You make me smile. No mean feat. If you're interested, I'd be happy to install you here as Mrs. Hades Number Two. Think of the fun we'd have."

She clenched her fists and tried to recall everything her mom had said about being kind to others, even those who didn't deserve it. “Thank you, but no."

"Very well,” he said, resigned. “Despite what they say about me, Josie, I am a fan of second chances. Just as I offered one to that good-for-nothing ingrate Orpheus all those years ago, I am offering one to you."

"I'll do anything to help him."

He eyed her. “I know you will. Fortunately for you, my brother Zeus is a mite peeved at the moment. Even though his son has relinquished his great gift of immortality, Zeus is still somewhat attached to the boy and doesn't like the idea of him being ... accommodated here."

"You mean trapped?"

"Words.” He rolled his eyes. “At any rate, your lover is disturbing the peace in my haven. Each time Persephone visits him, he puts her in a foul mood with all his caterwauling about you. It appears you have taken control of his heart, something no woman has done in centuries. You may think I'm a frigid bastard, but I know what it is to love. And I will give you one chance to save him."

The color drained from her face. Was he for real? “But I thought Persephone's spell was something even you couldn't reverse?"

"In theory, yes, I cannot change her spell. However, I can weave one of my own. And if you follow my instructions to the letter, it will override my wife's spell."

She felt a seed of hope bloom in her heart for the first time in months. “I'll do whatever it takes."

"It's quite simple, really, Josie,” he explained, smiling. “You just have to lead Dionysus out of the underworld. Without looking back at him."

"Like Orpheus,” she murmured, desolation slicing through her. Would it be as hard for her as it was for him?

"And like Orpheus,” Hades said, clearly enjoying the memory, “if you glance back at Dionysus even once, you will lose him forever."

He put his icy hands on her shoulders and positioned her so her back was to the door. She felt his cold fingers fall from her body and trembled in relief. She then heard the click as he turned the knob.

"Remember, Josie,” Hades warned. “He won't be able to help you this time. Your lover's life is in your mortal hands. Not one glance."

With those three last words, she felt, rather than heard, Hades disappear. And felt another presence behind her. She froze. As the scent of Concord grapes floated around her like a cozy blanket, her hands began to shake at her sides.

Dionysus! He was here.

Her head began to pound. Her heart began to pound. Was he okay? Was he unharmed by those wretched cuffs? Could he even walk after hanging on that wall all this time?

What she would give to see! Just one little look to convince herself he was fit for the journey.

And what if it
was
all a joke to Hades? What if he'd lied, and it wasn't really Dionysus behind her, but some boozy wraith out to torment her?

She just wanted to make sure it was him. Against her better judgment, she angled her head.