That Fatal Kiss (33 page)

Every baser feeling urged Hades to demand that Persephone stay behind. But his better instincts knew he absolutely must not. The goddess had to decide the matter for herself, without coercion. He’d faulted her mother for not teaching her what any goddess come of age should know, that in addition to the privileges they were permitted to enjoy, there were responsibilities of immortality which were theirs alone to bear. Hades would not now practice what he’d condemned. He would not cushion Persephone against the trials Fate set for them. He must support her decisions, whatever they might be. Whether that meant she’d be lost to the world or…or only to himself.

The god reached up to stroke the horses’ manes. “And the very idea of either, my friends,” he said to them quietly, “strikes a terror in my heart like no other.” Hades brought Cerberus into the chariot, adding, “Still, there’s no harm in one last attempt at making the female see reason.”

XXI.

PERSEPHONE QUICKLY DRESSED
in her least restrictive clothing and strapped on her sturdiest sandals, then hurried to meet Hades. She found him just beyond the palace gates, soothing the horses tethered to his chariot. Eager to unburden herself of her realization, Persephone stopped short when she saw that Cerberus sat within the chariot. All three heads offered her enthusiastically slobbering smiles. “Why do you bring your hound?”

Without facing her, Hades answered, “He’ll be useful in tracking down his parent.”

“I expect he will be,” the goddess replied, making a face unseen by her husband. “You’ll will him back to the palace as soon as we’ve found Typhon, of course.”

Hades turned a dour, almost angry expression upon her. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to remain here at the palace while I sort this out?” he asked, in the sharpest tone she’d heard him use yet.

Somewhat daunted by this complete reversal in manner, Persephone could only say, “Quite sure.”

“I would not think ill of you for it. No one would.”

“
I
would,” the goddess said. “And not only because it is my duty to accompany you on this mission, but also my honor.”

“Honor!” Hades scoffed, handing her the reins as he secured the contents of the chariot. “How many have died under the banner of honor?”

“Among mortals, many,” Persephone answered, though he clearly wasn’t listening. “But Immortals, none.” She observed Hades cautiously and took note of the forbidding cast of his face and the jerky movements with which he finished his preparations. His anxiety for her ate him up. She could well understand this, as she too felt fear for his well-being thrumming beneath her skin. Persephone ached to tell him now that she loved him, but what would this intelligence do to him at present? Would he take comfort and strength from her, as she did from him? Or would that knowledge only ratchet up his worry for her and have him insisting she remain at the palace? “Hades,” she tried delicately, “you won’t command me to stay behind now, will you?”

He let out a bark of laughter. “I would if I had any hope of you attending me, yes.” Bent down, Hades suddenly shot up. “You could be with child even as we speak.”

The goddess raised a brow at that. “I’m not.”

“How can you possibly know?”

Her brow arched higher. “I
know
.”

Hades expelled an angry breath. “Fine. But remember what I told you last night. If I
do
give you the command to retreat, you’ll go at once.”

“I remember,” Persephone said, torn between irritation with his prickliness and an overpowering need to cover his drawn face with kisses. If she confessed her love for him now, with his temper so uneven, he’d likely carry her off to their bedchamber, make violent love to her, and then secure her in Hephaestus’ chains so that he could take care of Typhon without her in tow. Thus she tried, instead, to distract him. “What have you placed in the chariot?”

“My helmet of invisibility, my sword, and my scepter.”

“Helmet of invisibility, eh? That’s handy. Does it render only you invisible, or does anything in your grasp disappear as well?”

“The latter,” he said curtly, then took the reins back from her and wrapped his free arm about her waist.

“Not at all in the mood for a chat, then, are you?” Persephone muttered as he settled her before him and held her close.

“Not in the slightest,” Hades said, though he laid a kiss to her temple just before he set the horses in motion.

They flew through Erebus for quite some time before they came upon the rusty ground below the mountain. Hades set down the chariot and Cerberus bounded off, barking. The god and goddess also disembarked and, after Hades gathered up his things, followed the hound. Persephone made sure to walk to Hades’ right, so as to avoid the smack of his sword as it swayed from its sheath around his waist. As his expression remained stony, Persephone decided they both needed distraction from their fears.

Glancing sideways at him, she said, “I don’t mind telling you what a magnificent scepter you wield, Hades.”

This failed to lighten Hades’ look as he surveyed the lonely landscape around them.

The goddess tried again. “I wouldn’t mind wrapping my hands about that shaft, no, indeed.”

His lips didn’t so much as twitch.

As Persephone struggled to come up with some other lewd commentary, Cerberus arrived at the same rock formation she’d encountered on her earlier travels and set himself to barking furiously at it.

“Is this where you felt the hot winds and heard moaning?” Hades asked her in a low voice.

Just as she nodded, the rocks in one pile shifted and the hound shot back with a renewed frenzy of barking. The formation fell apart altogether as the creature beneath broke through it. Hades willed Cerberus back to the palace as he moved to shield Persephone.

Even from her position behind her husband, Persephone could see the beast clearly. As it haltingly slithered up and over the shattered rocks, the goddess marveled at the sheer size of the thing, for its torso seemed nearly the thickness of perhaps twenty wide tree trunks. Though many of its hundred snakes’ heads had been severed, a few hung limply from his shoulders while dozens more danced about its human head.

Persephone could well envision how tall it would have stood in its prime, for even without full use of its serpentine legs, it rose up many feet off the ground to tower up into the gloomy atmosphere of Erebus. Flames flickered from its many eyes through the mist, causing her to shiver.

Noting the gods, Typhon attempted to lunge at them but his ruined legs could not manage to propel him more than halfway down the formation crumbling around him. And though his arms were as massive as the rest of him, they hung from his shoulders at awkward angles, yet his enormous hands seemed to be of some use.

It took all of Persephone’s concentration to leave off staring at the thing and focus on the words Hades threw at her over his shoulder.

“You see how badly he’s wounded,” the god said, keeping a wary eye on the creature. “He tries to get at us but cannot. I’m going to pin him to the ground with my scepter, then I want you to summon your father’s lightning to sever the rest of its heads from its body.”

“Where will you be while I’m doing that?”

“I’ll be behind it—”

“You most certainly will not.”

“—hacking off its legs and arms, useless though they appear to be.”

“Hades, no—”

“Persephone, we must utterly destroy the monster this time. Merely subduing Typhon proved a temporary measure. We must tear him apart and reduce him to ashes so that he can never do harm to anyone again.” Hades’ eyes burned with a strange light as he looked back at her. “And for that to happen, I must get in as close as I’m able. Your lightning bolts should both distract and enrage him, he’ll have very little time or patience to give me any notice whatever.”

Now, now was the time to tell him she loved him. The goddess felt the words rushing eagerly to her lips but something in her kept them back, feeling that their release would somehow alter their fates in some tragic way. She ducked her head so that he would not see the tears slipping from her eyes and huskily said, “Very well, then. Let’s get to it, but have a care for yourself.”

The god’s eyes on Typhon, he nodded, then slipped the helmet over his head and disappeared completely. Persephone felt, but could not see Hades’ hand bring up her chin for a swift kiss. Then he smoothed a tear from her face, kissed her with more force, and moved away from her, leaving her feeling completely bereft.

Meanwhile, Typhon watched her with multiple eyes and spat at her, the venom flying from its many mouths and sizzling as it fell on the ground and rocks around it. Then suddenly Hades’ scepter, which had gone invisible with him, shot through the air and impaled the serpent through its chest, pinning it face down to the ground.

Persephone felt torn between cheering and fainting but when the creature’s human head let out a roar as vicious and loud as the cries of a thousand lions, she remembered her purpose. Summoning her royal legacy from her father, the goddess reached into the air, drew out, and threw a bolt of lightning that cleanly severed a serpentine head from its neck, which dropped lifelessly down the monster’s back.

Typhon let out a maddened roar that only increased in volume as first one head, then another was lopped off by an unseen sword. The beast attempted to raise its human head to look back behind it, but Persephone hurled a volley of lightning at it, neatly removing several more snakes’ heads.

Time stretched out in one long moment for the goddess as she plucked, took aim, and shot bolt after bolt of divine fire at the serpent, praying all the while to the Fates that she would not inadvertently strike Hades. With each head she severed, she saw a corresponding head follow from behind the thing, then a chunk of leg or arm, until the creature could no longer hold itself up. Yet many spitting snake heads remained, as did the human head.

Persephone cautiously drew closer, thinking she might gain a better angle for shooting off that human head. Typhon spat at her, enraged, and a drop of venom hit the underside of her arm. She cried out, more from surprise than pain, though that was not insignificant. Her cry must have distracted Hades, though, as his helmet went flying from the impact of one of the thrashing snake heads. He was instantly visible just behind Typhon’s human head. Typhon must have noticed the god, for he reared up his human head with what little strength remained in him.

The goddess shrieked a warning, even as she reached for and threw out bolt after bolt of lethal fire in quick succession, until Typhon’s human head was obliterated at last. With a few more swoops of his sword, Hades disposed of the remaining snake heads and quartered the creature’s torso. Persephone shot out more lightning, setting the remains ablaze.

King and Queen stumbled into one another’s arms, and Persephone felt Hades take her arm to examine where she’d been hurt. She was about to protest that her injury was slight when she realized that Hades had sustained many more such wounds from the venomous spittle which the snake heads had shot at their unseen attacker. The goddess quickly, tenderly, ran her hands over his face, his shoulders, his arms and legs, healing each gash with a stroke. Then she laughed as Hades took her hand and ran it along the underside of her own burned arm.

They held one another close as they watched the flames consume the last remnants of Typhon’s carcass. When all was ash, they put out the flames and returned to the chariot. Persephone helped Hades secure his helmet and weapons, and then settled herself in front of him as he took up the reins and set the horses in motion.

The goddess’ heart thundered in her chest and she could
feel
the ichor rushing through her, enlivening her, making her…hot. She felt her husband’s heart beating fast, against her back, and leaned into him. His arm tightened around her and she swayed against him, thrilled to feel him harden against her bottom.

Little shocks of light flurried down her chest, her abdomen, her thighs, and Persephone pressed back against him roughly. She delighted in his growl of warning and felt herself dampen in readiness. Flushed with power and ravenous for her husband, the goddess turned and threw her arms around his neck. With a hop, she was on him, wrapping her legs around his waist and saying in his ear, “My need for vigorous motion remains unsatisfied, Hades. What are you going to do about it?”

What he did about it nearly had them crashing into the ground, not once, but thrice, and yet they did manage to arrive safely at the palace. Persephone slid back down as they touched ground, where a mortal servant stood, ready to take care of the horses. She quickly willed herself and Hades cleaned of the worst of their battle grime and primly stepped out of the chariot while the god stroked and praised the horses before they were taken away.

Already wearing a secret smile from their exertions on route, Persephone grinned when she heard Hades call the animals by name. “You call them Thunder and Lightning? Does my father know about this?”

Hades grinned back as he took her hand. “No, and you’d better not tell him unless it is your aim to put us at odds with one another.”