That Fatal Kiss (19 page)

A look of comprehension crossed Eros’ face, prompting Hades to ask, “What? What have I missed?”

Eros looked down to the ground, as if seeking the right words. Then, apparently deciding there was no way to honey-coat this particular truth, he took a few steps away from Hades and spoke. He avoided Hades’ gaze during his explanation, then took another step backwards once he finished, keeping a safe distance between them.

“Do you mean to tell me,” Hades began in dangerously dulcet tones, “that Persephone is angry with me because I achieved satisfaction and she did not?”

“This seems to be the only logical explanation, yes.”

Hades shot Eros a dark look. “Logic has no place when discussing one’s wife.” He thought for a moment, then asked, “Why did she not tell me so herself, instead of taking off the way she did? I might have been able to rectify that inequity, if I’d been given the chance!”

The flame-haired god pressed his lips together, very hard, to keep back a grin. “Then you, ah…you do care for your wife’s pleasure?”

“Of course, I must! Don’t you?” Hades asked with some asperity.

“Indeed I do. However, I am somewhat of an anomaly amongst the other gods… Zeus and Poseidon, they care for naught but their own pleasure.”

“I am
not
like my brothers.”

“Point taken.”

“Well then,” said Hades, as they neared his chariot, “now that I know the cause of her discontent, I had better take steps to eradicate it.” His motion was stilled by Eros’ hand.

“What do you mean to do now?”

“Find my wife and attend to her needs,” Hades clarified, only to be surprised when Eros blocked his entry into the chariot.

“Nay, Hades, you will not.”

“Why in Tartarus not?”

“Kindly observe the office I perform,” Eros said. “If you do not allow me to advise you, as the God of Love, I shall be sorely put out.”

Hades’ brows furrowed together. “What
is
your advice?”

The other god favored him with a wicked grin. “Leave her to herself and let her stew in her own juices for a while. It is to your advantage that she gets herself riled up. Then, later this evening, or better still, tomorrow night, go to her and be as provocative and irritating as you can.”

At that, Hades pushed Eros out of his way and began to secure the basket in the chariot. “And this will please her?” Hades asked in tones of complete disbelief.

“No!” Eros denied. “It will serve to wind her up and whet her appetite for what follows.”

“And what might that be?”

“A long session of pleasure at your hands.”

“If I do as you say and lay so much as a finger on her, she is sure to bite it off.”

“Trust me,” Eros said, “the angrier she gets, the better it will be. Taunt her, torment her, contradict her, do whatever you can to infuriate her.”

Hades arose from his bent position and regarded the God of Love. “I find these peculiar methods of seduction.”

“Allow me to explain why this will work,” Eros said. “Right now, I suspect Persephone isn’t so much angry as she is hurt.”

Hades’ expression chilled. “I did nothing to harm her.”

“Emotionally, not physically,” Eros said quickly. “The males above, they don’t trouble themselves to please their mates when they’re…intimate. Persephone always believed that to be a shocking lack of regard for one’s lover, and…”

Somewhat less icily, Hades prompted, “Yes, and?”

“Well…if you say she showed her willingness—”

“Eagerness.”

“All right, eagerness. I feel sure that must mean she cares for you, to some degree.”

“Certainly, as she must have cared for every other lover she’s had.”

Eros’ brow wrinkled. “She told you?”

“Never mind,” Hades said. “Get back to your explanation.”

“She cared, yes,” Eros said, stepping back a pace at the dark-haired god’s look of warning. “But she never loved, of that you may be assured.”

Hades studied Eros for a moment before quietly asking, “Truly?”

“Yes. I believe she must also care for you, and probably expected something…” The King of the Dead looked dangerous again, so Eros carefully concluded, “…different. Particularly, something different from your brothers’ treatment of their wives.”

Hades leaned against the chariot. “And so she should,” he said, still in that low tone, as though he spoke to himself only. Then to Eros he said, “And yet, the behavior you’re encouraging me to exhibit toward her now is every bit as boorish as Zeus and Poseidon’s.”

“Not quite,” Eros said with a smile. “They never deliberately seek to antagonize their wives, but make a show of deferring to them in small things and plying them with endearments sweeter than the wine of Dionysus. In fact, it’s their many indiscretions which anger Hera and Amphitrite. In any event, if Persephone were judging you by those standards, what she’d expect from you next is that same nauseating sweetness. But you don’t want to give her that.
You
want to arouse her, entice her, make her so wild for you that—”

Hades held up a hand. “Yes. That is what I want.”

“Well, then, you must do the opposite of what your brothers would do. It will throw her off-guard, and insecurity feeds desire, as does anger. Your provocations will send the ichor charging through her veins, until she’s more than…ah…ready for you.” Eros winked. “Leave her to herself for one night only, then go after her with a vengeance. Trust me, Hades—she’ll be begging for you.”

“Begging?”

Eros gave his shoulder a bracing slap. “If you do exactly as I’ve instructed, yes.”

The Host of Many contemplated this course of action before giving a mirthless chuckle. “After the things she said, she deserves a night of disquiet. Very well, I will give your bizarre methods a try.” His face suddenly shadowed. “Though I don’t like the thought of her wandering about Erebus alone, especially since she was headed east…”

“What, toward the caverns beneath Etna?”

“Aye.”

“Why does that concern you?”

“I’m not sure…there’s no real reason that it should.” Hades stepped within the chariot and took up the reins. “Well, she’s probably turned herself around and made her way back to the palace.” The god looked at Eros and frowned. “Ah, Eros…it occurs to me that you’ve a knack for turning up when matters with my wife grow dire. Are you somehow attuned to my many failures in this romance, or did some other business bring you to Erebus?”

Eros raked his hand through his fiery curls. “As it happens, I do have several matters to discuss with you. First, I wished to thank you and Persephone for playing along in the twisted little drama my mother devised.”

“You’re welcome. I trust everything has been resolved to your liking?”

“Very nearly. Which brings me to the second matter; you’re both cordially invited to my wedding.”

“You’re having another?”

“Mother insisted.”

Hades smirked at that. “Of course she would. I thank you for the invitation but must decline with regret. Not only do I abhor going up to Olympus, it would be imprudent to go there, with Persephone, at this time.”

Eros gave a charitable nod. “I see how it would be. And now the third and final matter: a warning.”

“Oh?”

“Though she’s called for a wedding, Aphrodite is not happy with this turn of events. She will not oppose Zeus, who has sanctioned our marriage, but means to make somebody suffer.”

Hades regarded Eros with amusement. “And you think she has selected me as her target?”

“I know it. I overheard her telling Hephaestus that you and Persephone must not have carried out the plan properly, else Psyche would have met her doom.”

“Why naturally, she simply cannot conceive of having been outwitted by a mortal.”

“Indeed, she cannot,” Eros agreed. “I did try to have a word with her, to ease her rage, but she would not hear it. I very much fear she plots some mischief against you.”

“What could she possibly do to me that’s worse than what she’s already done?”

“What has she done?”

“She made me love Persephone, didn’t she?”

Mount Etna, Sicily

“WHAT WAS THAT?”
Athena asked of Artemis as they rambled along the dead landscape. Consumed by worry for her sister and unable to aid her further, the Warrior haunted the mountainside where she last saw Persephone, hoping that the younger goddess might somehow find a way to thwart her fate and return to the Upperworld.

“What was what?” Artemis snipped.

“That tremor…didn’t you feel it?”

“I feel nothing but weariness of this place,” Artemis replied, fidgeting with the strap of her quiver.

“How odd,” Athena whispered to herself, wondering what might have caused the unusual vibration in the Earth.

“Pallas, Sicily is in the heart of Uncle Poseidon’s kingdom. Given how fond he’s become of Dionysus’ wines, a tremor, if there was one, could be attributed to the no doubt drunken Earthshaker,” Artemis said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to be dismissed so that I may take some exercise.” She eyed her wan sister critically. “You might do well to follow my example, Pallas, as you’ve put on a bit of weight, lately.”

The raven-haired goddess ignored the insult and let her sister bound off. Athena cast her eyes over the meadow. She knew for a fact that Poseidon and her father had gone to visit their many temples, which meant that the God of the Sea could not have caused any tremor whatsoever. In any event, the Warrior suspected a more interesting reason for the slight quake. She grinned, for the first time since Persephone’s disappearance, only to frown immediately after. “I wonder that the Earth did not move more violently.”

XV.

Hades’ Palace, The Underworld

PERSEPHONE DID NOT
see Hades for the remainder of the day but expected him to put in an appearance before retiring for the night. Only, he did not come.

She went to bed grinding her teeth and muttering darkly to herself, wondering where he was and when he would come to apologize. Then she recalled how he’d sent Cerberus to wake her before and thought he might try that again. The goddess willed herself to sleep, despite her ever increasing hunger, in the hopes that morning would hasten. But morning came and Hades did not.

The Lady of the Underworld summoned Ione, bathed, dressed, and adorned her hair. Hades did not appear to praise the goddess’ good looks. Restless, Persephone decided to take a survey of the entire palace, which she had not yet done. First, she peeked back in the bathing chamber, thinking she might encounter Hades washing up from wherever he’d been. But she did not. Uttering a hearty, “Humph!” Persephone strolled down the corridor and entered the room adjacent to their bedchamber.

She promptly burst into a vociferous fit of coughing for, though devoid of furnishing, the enormous room was covered in a thick layer of dust and hung with cobwebs. But Persephone soon remedied that, willing the room clean in seconds. She wandered about it, deciding the walls should be a brilliant shade of teal, to compliment the teal and ivory mosaic floor.

“And what else can be done with you?” Persephone pondered aloud. As Hades clearly did not utilize the chamber, she reasoned she might have it for her own amusement. And so she willed that it be filled with comfortable ivory chairs and couches, several low square tables, musical instruments she adored playing above ground, including a lyre and a flute, as well as a large loom—should she ever be inspired to learn how to use one. Last, she filled it with numerous jars and vases that brimmed over with delicate red-petaled blooms.

The goddess quit the chamber and continued down the hall and steps until she reached the indifferently decorated sitting room. Deliberating for a while, Persephone finally chose to cover the marble walls with a beautiful fresco, depicting the Elysium Fields and its happy inhabitants.

As the goddess cast her eyes over the scene she’d created, the memory of her short time with Hades in the Fields returned. She’d felt so unsure of herself, wanting to please while battling her confusion over her uneasy responses to him. She still couldn’t fathom why she’d been so awkward in his company. Persephone had entertained others, had played the frothy game of flirtation before. Why had she felt so unsettled with Hades?