This scene contains spoilers for A Touch of Malice. Additionally, the artwork at the end includes spoilers.
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“How can you be engaged to the hottest god in the world—aside from me, of course—and you still have nothing sexy to wear?” Hermes complained, shoving aside blouse after blouse and skirt after skirt. “Fucking Fates, Sephy. Your wardrobe screams I’m not interested in sex.”
“Do you really think Hades would approve if my wardrobe screamed otherwise?”
“At this point, Sephy, I’m just wondering how you managed to catch his attention. What did you wear the night you met? Tweed?”
He brandished the ugliest skirt he’d ever seen. It was various shades of beige.
Persephone reached for it. “That’s for work!”
“And?” Hermes moved out of reach. “ I know you fuck at work, Sephy. You can’t tell me this wouldn’t chafe.”
“I’m not sure how you have sex, Hermes, but it typically involves removing clothes.”
“Yeah but who wants to remove this?”
“If you must know,” she said, finally snatching it away, “Lexa always let me borrow her clothes.”
“Well that explains a lot,” he said, pulling another skirt from her collection. This one had florals.
“Is this…embroidery?”
Persephone glared at him. “I didn’t ask for a consultation on my wardrobe, Hermes. You’re supposed to help me find something to wear. Something Hades would approve of. I haven’t even asked him if I can go to Club Aphrodisia yet.”
Hermes could guess how Hades would take her request to go to a sex club with him–not well, even if it was for research.
Maybe research was the wrong word, though he wouldn’t be surprised if Sephy came away with some new ideas to try with Hades. Maybe a better word was…observation? That sounded voyeuristic. Maybe Sephy would discover a new kink. It was probably better to just state exactly why they wanted to go to the club–because Helen was a bitch and likely a traitor.
“Does Hades approve of these clothes?” Hermes asked. “They look like something he’d approve of.”
“One more comment on my wardrobe and you can’t come,” she said.
“You can’t do that,” said Hermes. “You need me to get into Aphrodisia.”
“I am Hades’s fiancée,” Persephone said. “I don’t need anyone to get me into anything.”
Hermes noticed Persephone cringe a little after she spoke.
“I can’t believe I just said that,” she said.
“Why? It’s true,” he said. “If I was engaged to Hades, I’d use that power all the time.”
“But I don’t want to have to use it,” said Persephone. “I want to obtain things on my own merit.”
“Persephone,” said Hermes. “You need to start seeing your status as a tool. Use it enough and pretty soon, you will obtain things on your own merit. Sometimes it’s a matter of working the system.”
He turned back to observe her closet, hands on his hips.
“Please tell me you have lingerie,” he said.
Persephone was quiet and Hermes turned to look at her over his shoulder. “No?”
“I tried that once, Hermes. You know how long it lasted? Seconds.”
“That’s the point!” he said.
Persephone gave him both a confused and annoyed look. These conversations often left her flustered which gave him a level of satisfaction that only encouraged him to continue teasing her.
“Don’t you ever seduce Hades?”
“You realize I can just walk into a room, and he is seduced?” she said.
“Just because Hades is a horny motherfucker doesn’t mean you shouldn’t put in effort. Geez, Sephy. Do I have to teach you everything?”
“No,” she said. “In fact, I wish you’d just help.”
“I am helping!” he argued. “I’m telling you your wardrobe is not appropriate for a hot goddess.”
“Whatever,” Persephone said.
He could feel her rolling her eyes and grinned as he moved into the very back of the closet where he managed to find one dress that might be suitable for tonight. He turned to Persephone who stood at the entrance, arms folded over her chest, watching him with a look of irritation.
“You’re a hopeless case,” said Hermes, holding up a short, black dress. “This would work.”
“It’s held together with pearls,” she said.
“So?” he asked.
“You do realize I’m not going to this club to have sex. I’m going to figure out what Helen has been up to.”
“And if you don’t look the part, you won’t be investigating anything. You should wear this. Hades won’t like it, but you’ll blend in.” He tried shoving the dress into her arms but she turned her back to him when she heard Hades’s voice.
“What’s going on?”
A shiver shook Hermes’s spine at the sound. Not because he was afraid. That’s just what his voice did. It reached places inside you, especially when he was grumpy. Hermes suspected that Hades thought he sounded intimidating, and he guessed that was true but fuck it was hot.
“Are you okay?” Persephone asked, but it was clear he was pissed. “What happened with Zeus?”
“Nothing,” he snapped, his gaze zeroing in on Hermes, accusatory. “What’s happening here?”
Why do I always get blamed? Hermes thought as Persephone stumbled over her words.
“I…um…Hermes was…”
“Sephy has to go to a sex club,” he said, feeling that it was best to just get this over with. Rip the bandage off as the mortals liked to say.
“That’s not what’s happening,” Persephone said quickly.
Hermes tried not to laugh. He could practically hear her heart racing as she tried to get ahead of this conversation.
“Well, not yet,” he added, snickering. “She has to ask you first.”
They both glared at him and spoke at the same time. “Hermes, shut up.”
Hermes’s mouth opened and then slammed shut as he glared back at the two.
“Fine,” he sniffed. “I’ll be in the closet.”
He turned around and wandered to the back again, though he could still hear the two talking.
“After Helen was asked to leave, Sybil, Leuce, and Zofie went through her things. We found a date, time, and an address for Club Aphrodisia. We think she might be attending a meeting of some kind associated with Triad.”
“And you want to go?”
“We all do. Zofie, Sybil, Leuce, Hermes,” she said. “This is personal, Hades.”
“It might be personal, but that does not mean you can be stupid,” he said.
“Oof. What an idiot,” Hermes said, cringing at Hades’s words. How was it possible that some of the hottest things ever said came from that mouth and yet, he also managed to say some of the dumbest.
He was definitely all beauty and no brains.
There was a pause and he knew the two were glaring at him, but it wasn’t like they could expect privacy. They were in a fucking closet.
“We may have a chance to learn what they are planning,” Persephone said. “Do you not want to prevent another attack?”
“Of course,” Hades said. “But that does not mean I want you there. Hermes can go.”
“Hermes can go,” he mocked under his breath. “It’s always Hermes, deliver this message or Hermes, run this errand. It’s never thank you for all your work, Hermes. Being the messenger of the gods must be so difficult. You deserve a reward. Let me bathe you, feed you grapes, and give you a massage. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
Like always, no one was paying attention to him.
He focused on what was in front of him and cringed.
Gods. How many flats does one person really need and in the worst colors…is that beige?
“Good thing her sex life has variety,” he muttered.
Though he was starting to question that by the lack of lingerie and sex toys she owned. He was going to have to take matters into his own hands.
While Hades and Persephone bickered behind him, he teleported, finding himself in a closet full of various shades of pinks, teals, and white. There were sheer robes lined with feathers and shimmering fabrics.
Hermes rubbed his palms together, giggling and then smoothed his hands over the silken fabrics before choosing one–a light blue dress with a corset top and fit and flare skirt. The straps were beaded, as was the bodice. He held it up to his body and then turned toward the mirror, only to see Aphrodite glaring at him.
He gave a high-pitched yelp when he saw her.
“What are you doing?” she asked. She was dressed in pink, a robe draping her curvaceous frame. There was a time when he’d wanted to fuck Aprhodite. He’d even vyed for her hand in marriage.
In his defense, everyone was doing it.
“What does it look like?” he asked.
She raised a brow. “I could tell you what it looks like, but I think you’d be better off explaining yourself.”
“Sephy’s going to a sex club. She needs an outfit,” he paused and then added, “Duh.”
Aphrodite’s brows rose even higher. “A sex club…is…Hades going, too?”
“I don’t know, they’re discussing it now. Anyway, she needs something sexy,” he said and returned his attention to her closet. “Are you going to help or not?”
“No,” she said. “Because she isn’t going. Hades would never say yes.”
“He might,” Hermes said. “It isn’t like she will be alone. I’m going, too.”
“Even more reason to say no,” she said.
“Hey! I’m safe,” he said, turning to face her again.
“Until you get distracted by a pretty boy or big dick.”
“It doesn’t have to be big,” he said. “It’s about skill not size.”
Aphrodite raised a brow, her eyes lowering. “Exhibit A.”
“Mine’s not small, Aphrodite,” Hermes snapped. “If you must know, we’re not going for sex. We’re going to investigate.”
“Investigate what?”
“Helen’s apparently working with Theseus and there’s some kind of meeting happening tonight at Club Aphrodisia. Guess Sephy wants to figure out just how involved Helen’s got and I can’t blame her. That bitch got close. There is no telling what sort of information she’s fed to Impious and in turn, Triad.”
Aphrodite stiffened. “Triad will be there?”
He shrugged. “That’s what we think,” he said. “But we won’t know until we get there and we won’t get there unless you help me find a dress for Sephy.”
Aphrodite thought for a second more and then pushed past Hermes. She wandered to the back of her closet, reaching to the very depths to withdraw something silky and black.
Hermes snatched it from her. “Perfect!”
“You didn’t even look at it,” she protested.
“I don’t need to,” he said. “It’s black. Hades will love it.”
Aphrodite opened her mouth to respond but Hermes left, returning to Persephone’s closet. Once there, he held the dress up. It had a deep v neckline and slits that would show off her thighs. It was simple, but better than anything he’d found so far, plus, it had more fabric than the other option which he retrieved from the floor where he’d left it.
He slipped it on, partly because he wanted to fuck with Hades, but also if the God of the Dead saw this dress, he wouldn’t bat an eye at Aphrodite’s choice.
“This is more than just a wish to help, Hades,” Persephone was saying as he made his way to the front of the closet. “You have to let me stand for something.”
There was a pause and then Hades spoke, “Hermes is going?”
“He has already agreed to swear an oath to protect me,” she answered. “If that would make you feel better.”
Hermes held his breath at Persephone mentioning the oath. It was evident to him she did not understand the gravity of such a thing. An oath was binding. The words, once spoken, could not be undone. If Hermes failed to protect her as promised, he would owe Hades his blood–however the god chose to take it and as much as he liked a little bondage and dominance, there was nothing hot about receiving it at the end of a broken bond.
Good thing he wasn’t going to break the bond.
“I think the other dress, Sephy,” Hermes said, stepping out of the closet, smoothing his hands over the fabric before letting his hands rest on his hips. “This one’s a little too…fuck me, if you get my meaning.”
He felt Hades glare and Persephone groaned his name.
Hermes considered commenting on Sephy’s moan but he thought against it as Hades took a step toward him.
“You agreed to swear an oath?”
He held Hades’s dark gaze, unwavering. “I did.”
“Swear it,” Hades said. Hermes might joke a lot, but there were also things he took very seriously. His word was one of them. “Swear you will protect her at all costs, even if it means an end to your own life.”
“Hades–” Persephone started to protest, but Hermes spoke over her.
“I swear it,” he said.
“You know the consequences if you fail?”
Hermes nodded. He didn’t even need time to consider the consequences before he’d agreed. He might have a lot of acquaintances but…Hades and Persephone…they were his only friends and he would do anything for them.
After a few tense seconds, Hades dropped his gaze to the dress Hermes was wearing.
“Black is not your color.”
Hermes’ gaze trailed the length of Hades’s tailored black suit. It wasn’t that his tastes were bad. If anyone could pull off an all black wardrobe, it was the God of the Dead. It was that he wore the same thing every day with the exception of the one time he managed to get him into gray sweatpants and fuck, that was a treat.
“Since when did you become the fashion police?”
The corner of Hades’s lips twitched as he replied, “I had a…decent teacher.”
“Descent–” he sputtered. How many times has my fashion expertise gotten you laid? He wanted to ask, but they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Persephone said quickly.
Ilias entered the room, looking very confused.
“Sorry to interrupt…whatever this is,” he said. “Hades, you’re needed.”
Hades hesitated only a moment before turning toward Persephone.
“I love you,” he said and then basically fucked her mouth.
Hermes’s mouth began to water and he swallowed hard.
Fuck me, he thought, staring down at his growing erection which was now pressing against the black fabric of Aphrodite’s gown.
Down, boy, he willed, but his dick didn’t listen—of course it didn’t. Meanwhile, the two lovebirds stared longingly into each other’s eyes. They act like they don’t fuck every day, multiple times a day.
He sighed.
I want that kind of love.
Maybe.
Actually, it sounds like work. I hate work.
Hades cast him a dark look and then left with Ilias.
Persephone turned her attention to him, her eyes falling to where his hands rested–over the bulge of his cock.
“Really, Hermes?” she asked.
“Don’t kink shame me,” he said. “I can’t help that I like to watch.”
Persephone gave an exasperated sigh and then quickly refocused. “So, is that what you’re wearing to the club?”
He looked down. “Absolutely not. I’ll change on the way. Get ready, Sephy. If my dick disturbs you, you’re about to see a lot more!”
Persephone groaned as he reached for his magic and whisked them away.
***
“That’s what you’re wearing tonight?” Persephone asked.
Hermes looked down at the outfit he’d chosen–a white shirt, gray jacket, and dark jeans.
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” he asked.
“You look like an accountant,” she said.
Leuce and Zofie exchanged a look before the water nymph asked, “What’s an accountant?”
“Someone who really likes finances,” said Sybil.
“I thought the point was to blend in,” Persephone continued. “You look like you’re prepared to do taxes.”
“I’ll do your taxes,” he said in a suggestive voice, waggling his brows.
“First, that isn’t a pickup line. Second, Hades will kill you, Hermes.”
The God shifted back into his seat, crossing his arms. “It’s not about the outfit, Sephy. It’s about what’s under it.”
“Then why did you spend so long insisting I swear something sexy?”
“Because the rules for women are different.”
“That’s stupid,” said Sybil.
“I didn’t make them,” Hermes said.
“Yes, but you reinforce them,” said Persephone.
“You can’t walk into a sex club looking like…”
“An accountant?” Sybil supplied.
Hermes hesitated for a moment. “I see what you mean, but in my defense, we are on a mission. All the women will be dressed like…most of you.”
He couldn’t say the same for Zofie who, even in a corset and pants, still managed to look like she could break him in half with one hand.
He kind of liked the thought.
“All of this will be worth it if we catch Helen here and learn what she is doing with Triad.”
Hermes had to admit that while Triad had always been a thorn in the side of every Olympian, their actions had escalated into something far more threatening and it was all because of Theseus. The son of Poseidon was growing bolder and bolder, their previous antics only jabbed, the new ones drew blood.
Hermes didn’t think he’d ever forget the way Harmonia had looked after she’d been rescued from Concordia Park—not her bruises or mutilated horns.
Things were different now.
He wondered what might have happened had Zeus taken Triad more seriously from the start, but the God of the Skies had not cared when the hate group was targeting and hurting other mortals. It was a cleanse, survival of the fittest, he’s said.
At one time, Hermes might have agreed, but ancient times were different. Then, the afterlife was far more mysterious and Hades, far less attentive, which made his realm a wilder place. Mortals lived to die, which meant worship was integral to their daily lives no matter the cruelty of the gods.
Now mortals lived to live and to many, that meant freeing themselves from the will of the Gods. Despite the steady swell of Triad’s popularity, Hermes had not considered them a true threat—but that was before Harmonia.
That one attack proved they could get close enough to hurt a god and he wondered who would die next.
He was brought from his dire thoughts when Antoni came to a stop. Hermes hopped out of the limo, unprepared for the cold, though he should have expected it. Fucking Demeter he thought, though it did instantly kill the boner he’d been sporting since leaving the Underworld.
He turned to help Sybil, Leuce, and Persephone out of the car despite Antoni exiting the driver’s seat to do the same. Zofie was the last to emerge, but when she saw Hermes extended hand, she slapped it away.
“Ouch,” Hermes whined, holding his hand close to his chest. He should have let Antoni have her. “You could just say no thank you.”
“Why would I thank you?” Zofie asked.
“Because that’s the polite thing to do when someone offers to help, Zofie,” said Hermes.
“But I did not ask for your help,” she said.
“I was being nice!”
“Is it nice to help when it is unwanted?” she asked. “Or is it…what do you say? Annoying.”
Hermes glared. “I don’t like you.”
“Can you two finish this argument later?” asked Persephone. “It’s freezing.”
“Enjoy your evening,” Antoni said.
“I’ll call when we’re ready,” Persephone promised. Antoni offered a single bow and then returned to the driver’s seat.
“I don’t see a sex club,” said Leuce, glancing down the street which was lined with a mix of unassuming shops. The one they happened to be standing in front of was a restaurant. Next to it, a bar. Both businesses were actually owned by Club Aphrodisia and they offered a more discreet way of entering the club but Hermes preferred the direct entrance.
“It’s around the back,” he said, leading them down an alleyway to an unmarked door where two men stood. Hermes was familiar with both men. One was Nikolaos and the other was Konstantin. They’d been bouncers here for a long time but they’d never participated in club activities—no matter how often Hermes had asked…begged…whatever.
“Good evening, Lord Hermes,” Nikolaos said. “You have an entourage tonight I see.”
Konstantin nodded in acknowledgement but quickly averted his eyes, though the mortal had never held his gaze for very long. Hermes wasn’t sure why. The only thing he could think was that he found Hermes insanely attractive and was therefore, too nervous.
“All friends,” Hermes said as the two checked everyone’s identification.
“Of course,” said Nikolaos, reaching to open the large metal door where they were met by Sebastian. He was the manager of the club. He liked to be called Master, though there was nothing exactly domineering about the balding, round-faced mortal.
“Ah, Master Hermes,” he said with a warm smile. “Welcome.”
“Sebastian,” Hermes nodded.
The mortal’s eyes shifted to Persephone, Sybil, Leuce, and Zofie.
“You’ve brought guests,” he said. His brows rose high. “Women.”
“Yes,” Hermes said. “These are my friends. You have heard of the Lady Persephone. She is soon to marry Hades.”
Sebastian’s brows rose even higher. If they could, they would have left his face entirely.
“Of course,” he answered, his voice trembling nervously. “How could I be so blind to your beauty? I did not know that Lord Hades shared.”
Even Hermes cringed at the interest in his voice.
“He doesn’t,” Persephone said sharply.
Hermes choked on a laugh, drawing Sebastian’s attention. “And these are her friends—Sybil, Leuce, and Zofie.”
“We are truly honored,” Sebastian replied. “I hope you find your time here pleasurable. Follow me.”
The Master turned and led them upstairs to Hermes’s suite. Persephone elbowed him in the side. Hermes glared at her and was about to ask why everyone seemed to have an affinity for hitting him in the ribs when she spoke.
“Never been here before, huh?” she asked, brow raised.
“Only a couple times,” he said.
“Only twice and you are so well known?”
He offered her a sly grin. “What can I say? My skills are legendary.”
She rolled her eyes like she didn’t believe him and elbowed him harder than the last time.
“Ouch!” Fucking elbows. “What? I have had lots of practice!”
She shook her head but he could see the slight smile on her face as she looked away.
They came to his suite which was aptly named craving and entered. While Hermes was well known here, it had actually been a while since he’d been to this particular club. Hades had kept him busy running around the whole of New Greece burning balls and warehouses to the ground which left little time for sex.
It was a good thing he found the former pleasurable.
Hermes turned his attention to Persephone, who had wandered to the balcony. She would probably argue that she wasn’t interested in what was happening on the floor below—which was just a lot of fucking—but her expression said otherwise.
She was intrigued.
“So what do you think?” Hermes asked as he came to stand beside her.
“It’s…different,” she answered like she couldn’t find the right words.
“Not as seedy as you thought?”
“No. It’s actually kind of tame.”
“See anything you’d like to try?” he asked, lifting his brows.
Persephone cast him an annoyed glance.
“I mean with Hades,” he added quickly.
Persephone ignored him, scanning the floor.
“Where do you think this meeting is taking place?” she asked, quickly focusing on the task at hand.
“I suppose it depends on the kind of meeting she’s having,” he said.
It was possible Helen was just meeting a member Triad here for a single sexual encounter and nothing more.
“Some things never change,” said Leuce as she, Sybil, and Zofie joined them at the balcony, observing the mass orgy below. It was true that Greek society had always looked favorably on sex, conducing such gatherings during symposiums where attendees drank wine, joked, and fucked.
“Quick, cover your eyes, Zofie,” Leuce said.
“Why?” she asked. “I am familiar with sex.”
Hermes was only surprised because it was Zofie. Despite being an Amazon, she did not act like she had any interest in sex but perhaps her interest just did not extend to men.
“What?” Zofie asked, defensively. “I may not know modern society, but sex is not modern.”
“You’ve had sex?” Leuce asked.
“Of course,” Zofie said, exasperated.
“But…we played Never Have I Ever,” Leuce said. “And you didn’t drink! Not once!”
Zofie was quiet before she admitted, “I think I misunderstood the game.”
The women laughed and for a while they spoke among themselves and watched the floor for any sign of Helen and while she never appeared, Hermes did start to notice people disappearing. It would have been normal if they were going upstairs where there were several suits, both public and private. Instead, they seemed to be going down.
“Where do you think they’re going?” Sybil asked.
“I don’t know,” Persephone answered.
“Shall we investigate?” Hermes asked.
“Someone needs to stay and watch for Helen,” Persephone said. “Sybil, Leuce—will you watch for her and text when she arrives?”
“Of course,” Sybil said.
“Zofie, I need you to stay here with them.”
“My orders are to protect you, my lady.”
“Actually, I swore an oath to protect her tonight,” said Hermes. “You will forgive me for not trusting anyone else to do so.”
The Amazon glared at Hermes and started to protest when Persephone interrupted.
“Zofie, this is important. I am ordering you to protect my friends. If Helen is here with Triad and she recognizes any of us, we’re in trouble.”
Hermes didn’t think Zofie was breathing.
“Very well, my lady,” she said, her gaze like a dagger to his heart.
When Persephone wasn’t looking, he stuck his tongue out at the Amazon before skipping out of her reach to retrieve a couple of cloth masks. They were a common adornment on the floor of any sex club and would gratefully provide them with some anonymity. Hermes secured his first and then handed one to Persephone who slid it into place before they left the suit.
He paused in the hallway and turned to her.
“Do as I do,” he instructed and took her arm as they walked onto the floor. He did not wish to draw attention, so they were going to have to take their time and appear interested in the various activities and performances. Not that Hermes wasn’t interested, but now was not the time to entertain his dick even if it was the right place.
They emerged from the dark to a threesome—two women and a man. The ladies faced each other, one riding the man’s face, the other his cock. Now and then they reached for each other’s breasts or shifted close to kiss. Another couple made out on a velvet couch, touching through clothes they had yet to shed. Not everyone had sex, though. Some watched from the bar while others played pool, pausing now and then to gaze out at the floor or watched porn as it streamed on screens throughout the club.
It was casual, comfortable, safe—which made this location an even stranger option for Triad’s treasonous meetings.
They passed a round bed where a man sat between the legs of a woman, gazing at them with lustful eyes.
“Would you like to join?” he asked.
Hades felt Persephone stiffen.
“We’re more than happy to watch,” said Hermes quickly.
His eyes gleamed, pleased with the suggestion and went down on the woman whose body arched beneath his mouth.
Hermes had no preferences when it came to sexual partners. He liked everyone and everything. Generally, he felt there was something beautiful about watching someone come, especially if he was the giver of that shattering pleasure.
They lingered before the two, watching but not watching—glancing from side to side as people in masks wandered from the bar or the shadow of a sitting area into the darkness and did not return.
It was Persephone who moved first and soon they found themselves in a long hallway full of flickering, low light. Ahead, Hermes could see a man standing in a suit. He was meant to blend in with his surroundings, wearing all black and a full-face mask.“My lady,” he said as Persephone approached.
Hermes released Persephone’s arm and allowed her to walk ahead. The man offered his hand and helped her down the steps. Hermes nodded as he passed the attendant but kept his gaze on Persephone as she entered the crowded room ahead. It was set up like a theater with tiered seats, but most people were gathered on the floor, crowding close to the stage.
It was the stage that drew Hermes’s attention because there, laying restrained and bleeding upon a black slab was a goddess. It was Tyche, sweet and wise, revered across New Greece, honored and worshiped for her influence on prosperity in all areas of life.
A sudden cold paralyzed his chest and he was overwhelmed by a weakness in his limbs. Of all the gods, she was among the least threatening, having little interest in vengeance–and yet she was the one this group of vigilantes had chosen to torture.
His shock ebbed and turned to anger as the crowd continued to heckle her and suddenly, he grew far more anxious. When he and Persephone had first discussed this visit to Aphrodisia, he had expected to crash a meeting, not an execution.
“That is Tyche,” Hermes said as he came to stand beside Persephone, feeling far more protective and worried than before.
Persephone startled, but recovered quickly.
“Tyche, the Goddess of Fortune and Prosperity?” she asked, her voice was low.
“The only one,” he said, wondering how she had ended up here.
“What are we going to do?” Persephone asked.
“We wait,” said Hermes as much as he did not wish to, as much as he wanted to save her now. “We do not know who or what is on their side.”
If he was alone, he might have handled the situation differently but he had to think about Persephone. Plus, there was more to be learned tonight—like who was responsible for this atrocity.
More and more mortals filtered into the room. The space grew louder and warmer and the more people crowded Hermes, the more he wanted to call up his magic and cast a protective net around him and Persephone, but he knew if he did, he would catch the attention of the divine and he did not wish to do that just yet, even though their taunts of Tyche were growing worse and worse by the second.
Hermes drew nearer to Persephone, tightening his hold. He felt like he was surrounded by explosives and at any moment, they might detonate.
That feeling only grew worse when the crowd began to applaud and cheer when a demigod walked on stage.
“That is Okeanos,” Hermes said, recognizing his parentage immediately, mostly because of the arrogant expression on the fuckers face.
“Who is Okeanos?” Persephone asked.
“He is a son of Zeus,” Hermes said. “He has a twin, Sandros. They are not usually far from each other.”
He scanned the stage, expecting to see his other half but for now, there was only Okeanos, who scowled at Tyche as he paced around her still and bloody form before he stopped abruptly, took one of her horns in hand, and broke it off with a sickening snap.
The sound was followed by a roar of cheers.
Hermes held Persephone harder, though he wasn’t sure if it was to keep her from reacting or himself. Inside, he quaked with fury but there was also fear. They were in the middle of a hostile room of mortals who had managed to kidnap a goddess and he was the only thing standing between them and Persephone.
Okeanos broke Tyche’s second horn just as easily as the first and he held them over his head as he walked the stage. The cheers grew so loud, all Hermes could hear was a ringing in his ears.
Finally, the crowd quieted as Okranos tossed the horns aside and spoke.
“The Olympians make a mockery of power!” he exclaimed. “They parade around, celebrities more obsessed with their image and their wealth and hurting mortals than granting your desperate prayers.”
As the son of Zeus spoke, he pointed to the crowd, riling them up more and more.
“It is a tale older than time. Gods outlive their usefulness to the world and must be replaced by new ones, those who understand it and see its potential. We are those gods. It is time to take back our world.”
This fucker really was a son of Zeus and just as stupid.
Hermes’s gaze shifted when he noticed movement from Tyche. The goddess’s fingers were twitching and her head shifted from side to side.
Okeanos noticed, too, and approached, still spewing his hate.
“We will have a rebirth! A new world where your prayers are answered, where the gods intercede only when asked, where they heal and do not hurt, but the price is dire.”
Hermes’s heart beat harder in his chest as the demigod picked up a blade near Tyche’s head. So This was an execution.
Okeanos lifted the blade, posing a final question to the crowd.
“Are you willing to pay?” he asked.
And then Hermes heard Persephone.
“No!” she screamed and her magic burst to life, freezing everything and everyone except Okeanos.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
The demigod’s gaze zeroed in on Perseohone and so did his power as he summoned lighting and sent a bolt straight for her.
Hermes moved to push Persephone just as she lunged out of the way. He caught the bolt in his hand and the magic melted into his own as he aimed to send that and more barreling back at the demigod–but suddenly, Aphrodite appeared, dressed exactly as she had been earlier.
She extended her hand and Okeanos’s entire body arced as his heart burst from his chest, flying into Aphrodite’s hand.
“Fucking Fates, Aphrodite!” Hermes exclaimed.
But the goddess did not seem to notice him or the fact that the mortals were now mobile once again.
“Gods!” someone yelled. “There are gods among us!”
“Hermes!” Persephone cried. “Get Tyche!”
He hesitated for only a moment, weighing the possibility of helping Tyche to safety and returning in time to retrieve Persephone, but when he looked toward the stage, mortals were already descending upon her, intent on finishing what Okeanos had started.
He glanced back at Persephone, who was near Aphrodite—the goddess of love was more than capable of protecting herself and Persephone and it wasn’t like Sephy was helpless…
Except you swore a fucking oath.
Fuck me. Fuck me so fucking hard and not in a good way, Hermes said aloud before teleporting to the stage.
His presence near Tyche only seemed to encourage the mortals as they scrambled for him. Hermes summoned his blade and gathered his magic, racing around the stage in a blinding ray of light, plunging his sword into mortal after mortal. He reveled in the feel of their blood as it sprayed against his skin, rage boiling over as Tyche lay dying behind him while Persephone stood surrounded by murderous mortals in front of him.
But he could feel Persephone’s magic gathering in a powerful wave and just as it exploded, he raced to Tyche’s side and took her away to the very top of Mount Olympus where no one save the gods could reach her. Once there, he knelt to the ground and called for Apollo.
His brother appeared quickly and so did Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home. She was clad in white robes and pushed back her hood, golden eyes wide as she knelt beside Tyche.
“What happened?” she asked, her voice frantic with worry.
Tyche was a close friend of Hestia’s—so were many gods.
Apollo met Hermes’s gaze. “Just like Harmonia,” he said.
Hermes nodded once. “I must go,” he said. “Stay with her. I will return!”
He left for the theater beneath the club, intent on carrying Persephone away from the rioting crowd but when he arrived, he found that she was on her knees surrounded by broken bodies. Blood dripped from her mouth in a steady stream to the floor and she looked as if she had been torn to shreds.
A horrible numbness ricocheted throughout his body as he tried to understand what had happened.
Two seconds, he thought. I was gone for two seconds.
“Perseph–” he started toward her but then Hades appeared, his back to Hermes. He wanted to speak, to say something—but there were no words, nothing that would make this better. Nothing would make this okay.
He had sworn an oath, and he was witnessing that oath crumble into nothing.
His word, it was now meaningless.
He watched Hades gather Persephone into his arms and vanish. Alone, the god turned in a circle observing the dead, many looked as if they had been disemboweled, their inside splayed across the floor.
This was a battle lost by both sides.
Suddenly, Hermes heard a faint cough. His eyes narrowed in the direction of the sound and as he made his way closer, his gold sandals stuck to the drying blood.
He found the source of the sound—a man with dark curly hair. Hermes pushed him onto his back, recognizing him as Jaison, Lexa’s former lover. He did not know the mortal well beyond that, but it wasn’t difficult to understand why he was among the dead here now—he had chosen a side in the aftermath of Lexa’s death.
A death Sephy had tried to prevent and made the ultimate sacrifice for—and yet this is how he repaid her.
“Please,” he said, though the words were garbled from the amount of blood in his mouth.
“Do not beg me for life, mortal,” said Hermes. “You forfeit yours the moment you challenge my friend.”
Jaison’s eyes were all black. There was no chance he would survive without divine intervention, but Hermes was not that god.
He summoned his golden sword and plunged the blade into the mortal’s heart. He did not breathe again.
***
Hermes knew he would have to face Hades. It would be better if he went to the God of the Dead rather than wait to be found. It wasn’t even that he wished to avoid punishment. He knew he deserved it. It was that he was ashamed to face Hades, ashamed to face Persephone. Yes he had sworn an oath, but these were also his friends—the two people who had helped him feel less alone and he had failed them.
He left the club and teleported to Olympus where he went in search of Tyche, finding her in the Healing House with Apollo and Hestia.
He knew immediately that he was too late, that Tyche was already dead, because her body was shrouded in black.
Another person he had failed.
Apollo stood while Hestia sat beside her, hands folded over Tyche’s. Quiet tears streamed down her face. Hermes placed a hand on her shoulder.
After a few quiet moments, the goddess spoke.
“How did this happen?” she asked.
“I am not entirely sure,” said Hermes.
“Her horns are missing,” said Apollo. “Just like Harmonia.”
“A demigod broke them,” said Hermes. “Aphrodite killed him.”
“A demigod?” Hestia asked, looking at Apollo and then at Hermes. “Whose son?”
“Okeanos,” said Hermes. “Zeus’s son, but there are others. They lead Triad and they have recruited many misguided mortals.”
“Then we must tell Zeus,” she said. “He will want to know that his children are killing gods.”
“You think he does not know?” asked Apollo. There was a biting edge to his voice.
“It is possible,” said Hermes. “He only looks down upon the world when he’s eager for a new fuck.”
Despite that, Hermes agreed with Apollo. It was not likely Zeus would care much about what his numerous sons and daughters were doing, even as they conspired against him. It wouldn’t be the first time, and no one had ever succeeded. Tyche’s death was tragic, certainly, but Zeus was not in the habit of defending minor gods and yet Hermes knew it was only a matter of time before they targeted an Olympian.
“You should summon Hecate,” Hermes said to Hestia. “She will want to perform funeral rites.”
Hermes started to leave, but Apollo stopped him.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to make sure Sephy’s okay,” he said.
At the mention of Persephone, Apollo paled.
“Was she hurt?” he asked, letting his arms fall to his sides.
“Yes,” he said. “And it’s all my fault.”
***
Even before Hermes arrived at the Island of Lampri, he could feel Hades magic. It was like a storm, raging around him. The God of the Dead was angry but he was also afraid–and the fear made him dangerous.
The feeling only grew worse when he appeared before the God of the Dead, his magic now a physical weight, anchoring him in place.
It was really the first time Hermes understood what it must be like to come to the gates of the Underworld, to bear witness to this god whose presence filled rooms and smothered light.
He was fearsome but probably worse than that, he was hurt–and Hermes was responsible for that.
Fuck.
At this moment, he hated himself.
Hermes noticed Hades’s fists tighten and before the god could approach, he spoke.
“Before you begin, you should know that Tyche is dead.”
Hecate gasped. It was the first time Hermes had looked at her since he arrived and she was clearly shocked. She dropped her hand from her mouth, brows furrowed with concern.
“How?” she asked.
“We do not know,” Hermes said. “I…took her to Apollo.”
It was a mistake to say those words aloud because in those seconds he’d been gone, something had happened to Persephone.
“You left her,” Hades accused, taking a step toward him.
“Persephone ordered me,” Hermes said and he knew her–Persephone would have never wanted him to leave Tyche.
“I ordered you to protect her,” Hades continued, his voice shaking as it rose. His magic summoned sharp spires from the tips of his fingers. “You swore an oath.”
“I know,” Hermes whispered, letting eyes fall to the floor. He could no longer hold Hades’s gaze which was full of hatred. It made his eyes water. “I failed.”
Hades forced Hermes to meet his gaze again, wincing through blurry vision as the sharp tip of his thumb settled just below his eye.
“I failed,” Hades said.
Hades did not need to say anything more. Hermes knew exactly what he was saying. Hades had failed because he’d trusted him.
A cold trail of blood raced down his cheek and pressure built behind his eyes. He wanted to close them, to beat down this pain. Nothing was worse than this–not even what Hades did next.
“I will never forget this night and neither will you,” he said. Then he stabbed his thumb into Hermes cheek.
He thought he had prepared himself for the pain. He had been injured countless times by countless weapons, but there was something supernatural about this wound. It felt like his skull was being split in two and simultaneously incinerated.
A horrible sound escaped his mouth, though Hermes did not think he even deserved to express his pain. This was a just punishment for his broken oath.
Hades continued to drag the spike down his face to his lips when he stopped abruptly and shoved him away. Hermes shook as he stumbled back. Large drops of his blood splashed as they hit the ground. He held Hades’s gaze, even as he covered his wound, feeling the swollen and severed skin beneath his hand.
“Do not worry,” said Hades. “That will be the last oath you ever have to make.”
He hadn’t needed the reminder. It was the worst part of all of this—that Hades would never trust him again. He swallowed hard and, knowing he was on the verge of breaking, vanished before the god could see his tears fall.
