For one terrifying second Persephone was sure that she was going to go tumbling out of the chariot. But Hades's arms were firm on either side of her as he held the reins, as she found out when she bumped painfully against one. She resisted the urge to scream as the bottom dropped out of her stomach and it felt like they were free falling down into the immense tunnel that had opened in the earth. Only the horses seemed to be galloping on thin air, propelling them even further downwards. The bright light of the upper world faded, and for several seconds they were in complete inky blackness. Convulsively, her hands gripped at Hades's cool forearm until she heard his voice murmur in her ear, "There's nothing to fear, little one. You're safe with me."
Moments later, she saw a pale, watery light from the opposite end of the tunnel, and felt the tight band of fear around her heart start to ease. The horses slowed their pace, and in a mere breath they burst out of the dank earth and into a huge cavern. Persephone's mouth opened in shock as she stared around, her blue eyes as round as saucers. The cavern was massive, and from high above the ground she could see the pitiful creatures that toiled below her. Frowning slightly, she leaned closer, then gasped. The creatures below her were people! Or at least they were what was left of people—their ghosts. She felt her stomach turn at their sluggish, defeated gaits.
Hades turned the chariot with a quick snap of his wrist, the horses responding to his merest touch on the reins. He veered sharply away from the sight and they whisked through another tunnel, this one horizontal and obviously leading somewhere in the Underworld, not back to the surface. Persephone bit her lip anxiously and desperately wanted to look over her shoulder to speak to Hades, but she wasn't sure what to say. The creatures that she had seen had been completely defeated. She could feel their despair even still, and it churned her stomach. She was a goddess—an earth goddess, and therefore closest to humans. Although there was a great distance between humans and gods—they would never consort on an equal basis—her emotions were more in tune with them. And to see so many of them browbeaten and broken made her want to weep.
Before she had time to ask Hades about the shades, they appeared in another area. This room didn't seem to be a room at all—but rather the metropolis of the Underworld. It seemed as though the earth had been complete carved out for miles to make room for the shining obsidian palace that stretched in front of them. Persephone caught her breath, stunned. The palace was gorgeous; easily the dark equal to Zeus's own in the sky. It seemed that the whole building was made of that same polished obsidian, a match for Hades's eyes. The sweeping, curved lines of the building were aesthetically gorgeous, and Persephone couldn't prevent the little gasp of pleasure.
"You like it?" Hades's voice rumbled close to her ear. If she hadn't felt his steadying, warm presence at her back, she would have jumped in fright.
She twisted her head around to smile brilliantly at him. "It's gorgeous, my lord!"
Although he didn't smile, she sensed he was pleased. With an invisible movement of his hands, the horses moved forward and alighted on a terrace. Hades stepped out of the chariot and gave her his hand to help her down. She took it without thought, and unthinkingly didn't release it even once she was down. She looked around in wonder, her eyes shining. Although the Underworld was certainly different from her home—for one thing the light was much weaker here—there was a stark beauty that enthralled her.
Hades glanced down at their entwined hands, bemused although his face was expressionless. She was so much different than he'd thought she'd be. He had watched her for years, and wondered about her. She seemed so childlike at times, the equal of her ridiculously silly companions. And other times she showed a maturity and natural grace and ability of leadership that fascinated him. She was as changeable as the weather, and he was obsessed with her. He had told himself that he would find out the secret of her eternally changing moods, and then he would leave it to rest. If the thought had occurred once or twice to make her his, he had dismissed it. He lived alone in his solitary domain, and that was the way that he chose it. Zeus had his consort, and Poseidon his, but Hades wanted no woman in his life. He needed no woman. Least of all a goddess who was barely out of childhood. And besides, if he took her, Demeter would probably castrate him. And despite his vow of leaving women alone, he didn't want to lose the possibility of having a woman.
But Hermes had come a few years ago and told him that Zeus wanted counsel with him. He had made the trip to Mount Olympus and heard what his brother wanted. And unfortunately, it was the last thing that Hades wanted.
Zeus wanted him wed.
Hades had at first flatly refused, not giving a damn to the consequences. But instead of becoming angry, Zeus had tried to reason with him. "You're all alone in that gloomy place," Zeus said persuasively. "You need some warmth in your nights, Hades."
"No, I don't," Hades said flatly, giving Zeus a glowering stare that had frightened many a mortal.
Unfortunately, Zeus was a god—and frankly not intimidated by his brother. So he persisted. "A woman would make your life easier, Hades."
"How has it made yours easier?" Hades retorted, and Zeus had the grace to flush. His conquests were well known among gods and mortals alike, and usually he would have guffawed and waved Hades's comment aside. However, Zeus had just had a row with Hera over some like mortal tart named Danäe, and now the idiot chit was pregnant.
"Damned women," Zeus muttered under his breath, and Hades nearly smirked at his brother's turnaround of statement. Zeus shook himself and started to glare at Hades.
"I don't know what you're so happy about," he said flatly. "Either choose a bride—or I'll choose one for you."
Hades's eyes narrowed dangerously, and Zeus held his ground, although he didn't like the look in Hades's eyes. Although he was fond of his brother—Hades was less temperamental than Poseidon and thus easier to be around—sometimes his brother frankly gave him chills. Must be from being among the dead for so long, Zeus thought in annoyance.
"You won't marry me against my will," Hades said flatly.
Zeus raised one eyebrow challengingly. "I am king," he said softly, but there was an edge to his voice. "Your king, Hades. We all agreed on that. And I want you wed."
"But why?" Hades's voice was frustrated, showing a very rare display of emotion.
Zeus sighed. "Because you need to be married, Hades. You rarely have any women at all, let alone a wife or mistress."
"I don't belief my private life is any of your business," Hades said coolly, biting back the sharp retort that wanted to rise to his tongue.
Zeus smiled angelically. "And unfortunately for you—I think it is. So find yourself a women within the next ten years, Hades, or I'll do it for you."
That had been nine years ago. He had watched and waited, chafing at the restriction that his brother had placed on him. He had watched her, putting off the inevitable. Although he rarely showed them, he did have emotions, and he knew that to tie a creature such as the Spring Maiden to a creature like him would be sure death, and he didn't relish the thought of causing her distress. However, no other woman stirred anything in him. Not curiosity, not desire, not anything. But she made him feel—chaotic. He hadn't realized how much until he confronted her earlier. He had actually made a joke. A rather idiotic one, and he damned himself for saying it, but he had done it.
He was the Lord of the Underworld. He didn't make jokes. Just the word was imbued with disdain, even in his thoughts. And he had blurted out that he wanted her to come with him. Where had that come from? He had been fully prepared to take her as soon as they came close to the chariot. But the words had tumbled forth of their own accord, and he had felt like a blathering, idiotic mortal. He had fully expected to have to snatch her to take her with him. Instead she had come of her own free will. Even as it made things easier, it made them more complicated. He didn't understand her motivation, and he didn't like puzzles. Death was simple and absolute. There were no mysteries or hidden agendas in Hades's world. And that made her an enigma to him, one that he was determined to solve.
Because she discomfited him with her easiness with him, he gently disengaged his hand from hers. "Would you like to see inside, my lady?" he asked her remotely.
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with pleasure. "Certainly, my lord!" He gave her his arm in a cool, controlled movement. She linked her arm comfortably through his, apparently oblivious or ignoring his suddenly cool attitude.
A small frown line appeared between Hades's eyebrows and was almost immediately gone. He silently led her inside, and heard her muffled gasp of awe. The inside was just as dark as the outside. The furniture was all made of dark wood, and the house was so silent that they could hear their feet on the floors. Or at least Persephone could hear hers. Hades was still barefoot, so he moved silently beside her.
Like a big cat, she thought, then blushed and suppressed the thought before he caught it. But she couldn't resist the comparison. He was so sleek and controlled, he reminded her of one of the huge panthers that she had seen before. She looked down to where her arm was entwined with his. They were so different. Despite her many days in the sun, her skin was as fair as the day she had been born, whereas his was a dusky shade of gold, as if he were the one frequently in the sun. It contrasted well against his dark eyes and hair, and she bit her lip as she stared up at him. His face was hard and chiseled, but his lips were unexpectedly sensuous. The bottom lip was slightly fuller than the upper, and she had a sudden image of herself nipping teasingly at that bottom lip.
She sucked in her breath sharply, looking anxiously over at him to see if he had made the image. But he looked just as unconcerned and stern as he had before, so she slowly relaxed and considered the possibility that she had thought it up on her own. She narrowed her eyes, some of her pleasure for the house dimmed by the shock of knowing that she was attracted to the stern Lord of Souls.
For the first time, she considered the consequences of her rash decision to accompany him. Her mother would be justifiably furious. Persephone didn't doubt that her companions had already rushed off to tell on her. She suppressed the immediate flare of annoyance. It seemed like that's what her friends were always doing. Running to her mother to report. Didn't anyone just want her for her? She wondered rebelliously. Her friends were her friends because Demeter needed people to keep her daughter close and away from men.
On that thought, Persephone glanced sideways up at Hades and suppressed another smile. Obviously that hadn't worked out too well. She was strolling along with one of the most masculine men she had ever met. She flushed and lowered her lashes. She had briefly met Zeus, and hadn't liked him. He had leered at her, and she had hidden behind her mother. She hid a shiver. Zeus frankly frightened her. She was sheltered, but not deaf or dumb. She had heard of Zeus's numerous exploits, both of goddesses as well as mortal women, and had no desire to become one of their number. In some ways, she was grateful for her mother's strict protection. But most of the time she chafed, wondering if there was anything out there in the world that she would never see because of her mother's overprotective streak.
Mother can't find me here, Persephone thought resentfully, then immediately squashed the thought. It was unworthy of her, and unfair besides. Her mother only cared about Persephone's welfare.
As she and Hades continued to walk through the long corridor, each immersed in their own thoughts, a plan suddenly emerged in Persephone's mind. Shocked at her own temerity, she shoved it away. But it continued to niggle the edges of her mind until she allowed herself to consider it. She looked up at Hades again, seeing the bleakness in his eyes. She felt her natural compassion rise in her, but she pushed it down and tried to see him objectively. He was a handsome man; she had already admitted that to herself. But was he a kind man? And did she trust him enough from their short acquaintance that she would trust her virtue with him?
She nearly laughed. What was she so worried about? She was already risking her virtue with him. And he had been perfectly polite and proper with her. So there was nothing to worry about. She felt a smile of relief spread over her features and ignored the little worry that still nudged impatiently at her mind. She took a deep breath to try to bolster her courage, then looked up at Hades through her lashes.
"My lord?" she asked tentatively, hoping she wasn't unduly disturbing his thoughts.
He glanced down at her, his dark eyes expressionless. "My lady?"
"My lord—"she hesitated. Now that she had decided what she wanted to ask, she wasn't sure she could force it out. Finally she blurted out, "May I stay here with you?"
He gaped at her, and from his dumbstruck expression she surmised that she had totally floored him. "I beg your pardon?" he said, his voice sounding much like his expression looked.
She bit her lip and stared up at him pleadingly. "Well, you saw some of my companions. They seem to have nothing between their ears but air. I can't stand it. And they're always reporting on what I do to my mother. But none of them can get down here, and neither can my mother. Would you mind a house-guest terribly? I'm so sorry to invite myself, or to impose on you, but—"
She was abruptly cut off when he made an abrupt gesture with one hand. She looked up at him, her lashes trembling with tears, although none fell down her cheeks. Her mouth was soft and full, her cheeks flushed and her hair tousled. Hades felt his body stiffen, and he clenched his jaw. Great Gaia, he swore mentally. She looks like she's just been thoroughly had. And damned if he didn't want to be the man doing the having.
He pushed those thoughts away violently. That wasn't what he needed to think about now. He needed to consider her shocking proposal. "What precisely are you suggesting, lady?" he asked her cautiously.
She blushed furiously. "I'm so sorry!" she blurted out. "Just—forget I said it. I'm sorry!" She started to whirl away from him, her hands pressed to her hot cheeks, but he caught her elbow in a firm grip and made her face him.
"I wasn't refusing you, lady," he said with a calm that he didn't feel. "But I want to know exactly what you're proposing."
She looked hesitant. "Well—I just wondered if you wouldn't mind having me as a guest for a little while. Maybe a few days or so. Not very long." She worried at her lip with her little white teeth. Hades watched her teeth gnaw at her lip with something akin to glazed fascination. He felt like he could watch her all day. He wanted to replace her teeth with his own. Then he shook himself, feeling slightly frantic. Gods, it was getting worse. The longer he was around her the more he wanted her. Then he forced himself to process what she had said. When he thought about it, he nearly sighed. Oh, little one. If you stay here, it won't be for a few days. It will be for eternity.
But he certainly didn't voice those thoughts aloud. He studied her in silence, then said coolly, "I could never refuse hospitality to a lady."
She blinked, seemingly stunned. "You—you don't mind?" she stammered, and he felt amusement tickle his stomach.
"No," he said blandly. "I don't mind at all. In fact, I can show you to your room right now."
She suddenly seemed to light up with the blaze of a thousand suns. Hades nearly had to close his eyes at the luminance of her. She was so happy that she fairly glowed. She hugged his forearm to her breast with a shocking lack of modesty. "Oh, my lord! Thank you so much!"
He jerked his arm away from her, feeling as if he had been branded by the warmth of her body. She looked startled, then she flushed. Before she could apologize, he said darkly, "This way."
She bit her lip, then said hesitantly, "My lord?"
He gritted his teeth. Emotions were bombarding him, and he didn't like it. And considering that she was the cause of it, he didn't like her much right now. Instead he turned slowly on his heel to stare forbiddingly at her. "Yes?"
She didn't cower under his glare; instead, she just stared back at him calmly. She seemed to have regained her confidence abruptly, and her sudden shift in mood confused him for a moment. "Would you mind showing me the rest of the house?" she asked him quietly. "It's a lovely house, my lord."
He hesitated, and then stepped back toward her, seemingly slightly mollified. "If you'd like," he said coolly.
She lifted her chin, nodding firmly. "I would very much like to," she said quietly. "As long as I'm not taking you from anything important."
He stared at her for a moment, an arrested look in his eyes. "No," he said shortly. "You're not. Come along." He strode down the hall, fully expecting her to tag along in his wake. But to his inward surprise, she doggedly kept abreast of him, her eyes flickering over the house eagerly.
Throughout the mostly silent tour, Hades watched her surreptiously. She didn't seem cowed by his cool reserve, but was still bright and bubbling with life and energy. He felt a pang of guilt. Would she remain this lovely, glorious nymph once she hadn't seen the sunlight for years? Once she realized that the Underworld was a cold and lonely realm—much like its master?
He shoved away the thought. He hadn't bothered with a conscience for millennia. Now wasn't a good time to acquire one. Finally he stopped and said remotely, "You've seen the house now, my lady. Would you like to rest? You seem fatigued." In all actuality, she didn't, but he was. Her energy was draining for someone who lived a very sedate life.
She looked up at him, her blue eyes searching his dark ones. He resisted the urge to drop his eyes away from hers. Those sapphire eyes of hers seemed too knowing; he felt as if she could see into his very soul.
On the heels of the thought he wondered, Do I even have a soul? Then he pushed that thought away rebelliously and said icily, "Come along, my lady."
"Persephone," she said softly, and he turned back to look at her. She hadn't moved from where they had stopped, and she had her hands folded into the folds of her skirt.
"I beg your pardon?" he said coolly.
"My name is Persephone," she said gently. "Since I am to be your guest, it would please me if you would call me Persephone."
He stared at her, his face expressionless. He understood that she was offering him a token of peace and friendship, and expected him to reciprocate. His lips tightened. He wasn't the gentle man that she seemed to think he was. Even if he wanted to, he could never be that man for her. It was best for her to realize that now. He turned on his heel and strode away, saying coldly over his shoulder, "Come along, little one."
Behind his back, Persephone closed her eyes and let out a little breath of disappointment. She had thought that he would ask her to call him by his name too. Instead he had almost looked angry; but then, he never showed his emotions anyway. She felt pity well up, and immediately crushed it. She could already tell that he was proud—what god wasn't? He would deeply resent her pity, and she didn't want to offend him more than she obviously already had. Feeling disappointed but not defeated, Persephone followed him, her jaw set stubbornly. She'd see him smile, she promised herself. Just once. Then she would be satisfied.
Immersed in her own thoughts, she didn't see him stop until she almost ran into him. In fact, she did run into him. She was brought abruptly to a halt when she crashed into him and then bounced off. Only his quick turn and his grip on her arms saved her from going crashing to the floor. "You're a clumsy cat, aren't you?" he said curtly, his eyes sharp.
Persephone bit her lip and didn't answer. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I was—thinking."
"Well don't walk and think at the same time," Hades told her curtly. "I wouldn't want you going home to your mother hurt. She'd have my head more than she already will."
Persephone bit the inside of her cheek, her distressed eyes looking up at him. She knew he was right. Demeter would have his head for letting her daughter stay here unescorted—or at least give him a scathing lecture. But Persephone couldn't resist the temptation. Here she was free—free of her mother's well-meaning observance, and free of the duties of her position. Although she regretted that Hades had become involved in the rapidly rising power struggle between Persephone and her mother, she wouldn't change her decision.
"I'm sorry," Persephone apologized meekly, although her eyes glittered up at him through her lowered lashes. "I know that my mother can sometimes be overprotective."
Hades snorted, an oddly unrestrained sound coming from a man who was so contained. It brought Persephone's head up to stare at him in surprise. "Your mother isn't overprotective, little cat. She's damn near like a father, rather than a mother."
"She's had to be both," Persephone said, rallying to her mother's defense despite her own dispute with her.
Hades's mouth curled very, very slightly. "Don't like people to talk badly about your mother, little cat?" he asked her, his voice very deep and sending a thrill up Persephone's spine.
She didn't respond, just hung limply from his grip and stared up into his eyes that seemed as though they were shards of the blackest night. In a daze, she felt his thumb brush very gently over the skin of her arm where he held her. Her breath came out in a gushing sigh, feeling pleasure skim through her. Her eyelids fluttered, but they remained fixed on his. She saw his lips compress, then he released her and turned back to open a door.
She nearly collapsed when she suddenly regained her full weight. Blushing, she righted herself, then peeked under his arm into the room that he had opened. She gasped, her eyes flying wide in awe. "Oh, my lord! Is this room really mine?"
"Really," he said dryly, but she was already rushing inside to look around.
The room was enormous, and everything was black. The sheets, the curtains, and the furniture. However, everything shone. Much like Hades's eyes, Persephone thought dreamily. She looked back over her shoulder at him, unaware of the admiration that was starting to build in her eyes.
Hades saw it and recognized it for what it was. Infatuation. He felt another irritating pang of guilt, and pushed it away. I haven't done anything to her, he told himself. She's made up this silly infatuation on her own, not I.
But that conscience that he didn't want whispered, But you haven't done anything to discourage it, have you? She's never seen a man before. You'll be her first—in all the ways that matter.
He viciously shoved that thought away. He didn't want to think that he was taking too much advantage of her. The silly chit had chosen to come here with him, and had invited herself to remain here. Certainly there were things that he was concealing from her, but a man couldn't be expected to tell his woman everything, could he?
Feeling slightly better, he said, "I'll leave you here, my lady. When would you like to dine?"
"Dine?" she said blankly, and he nearly rolled his eyes.
"Yes, my lady. I'm not going to starve you."
"Oh!" she said anxiously, rushing toward him but stopping just short of flinging herself into his arms. "I didn't think that! Honestly I didn't!"
Since she looked so distressed at the thought that she had insulted him, he did his awkward best to try to reassure her. "Very well then. We'll dine in two hours." Then he turned on his heel and strode out, ready to get away from the emotions that she was causing in him. They were too new—much too confusing. He needed some peace and quiet.
Persephone went to the door and watched as he strode purposefully down the hallway, his bare feet making no sound on the floor. She didn't notice the smile that spread across her face, or the admiration that shone from her eyes when she looked his way. All she knew was that she felt a great affection for the man already.
Humming softly to herself, she danced back into her room to explore.
* * * * * * * *
Two hours later, Hades threw down the scroll he was reading in disgust. Gods, that woman frustrated him! He felt as if he could feel her presence through the house, although his study was at the opposite end from her room. He glanced at the doorway, which remained securely locked. No one interrupted him while he was in his study. Feeling safe, he rose to pace feverishly across the room.
She was tying him up knots. She was making him have a conscience, for Gaia's sake! He didn't want a conscience, and he didn't want her, he thought mutinously. Then he imagined what he had felt as she crashed into him.
Her soft body and breasts had been pressed against his back, and all he had wanted to do was to turn and gather her up into his arms and completely ravish her. But that wasn't going to happen yet, he thought bleakly. But it would come. And then she would hate him. Just as she had glowed today with happiness, soon she would hate him just as ferverently. And there was nothing that he could do to ease her pain. Even if she loved him, instead of this infatuation that she was building, he didn't imagine that she could forgive him such a trespass as he was planning against her.
And then—he swore. She had trembled in his arms. He had felt it, and seen her eyes darken with a woman's passion, coupled with a virgin's confusion and innocence. The combination was enough to make him want to kick something. She inspired such feelings in him—he who would have gladly lasted for all eternity without them. He had watched her for years and been comfortable with the fascination that he held for her. But now, to have her at his side and to hear her voice talking to him were nearly overwhelming. He was bombarded with emotions—protectiveness, lust, anger, and most of all was confusion. He didn't understand her. She presented a huge puzzle to him, and although he had promised himself that he would unearth all her mysteries, he wasn't sure he wanted to anymore. He barely knew her and already she was tying him up in knots. What would happen if he actually got to know her?
Hades swore viciously in several tongues and hurled the scroll against the wall. If he hadn't tempered his strength, it would have cracked the wall. Instead it only dented it, something he fixed with an ill-tempered wave of his hand a moment later. Swearing under his breath, Hades turned toward the door. It was time for dinner. He wondered if he would survive it.