I don’t even know what to say to that. “Everyone has a thing, I guess.”
Another woofy laugh blows more sulfur-scented breath all over me. “Can we keep her?” Rus asks Hades.
A small glow ignites in my chest. Is this how it feels to be wanted?
“Definitely not. I’d never know a day’s peace again,” Hades says. “Did you come here for a reason, mutt?”
Cerberus huffs—all three heads—then gracefully pushes to his feet to tower over me. I only come up to his shoulder. “You are needed,” the heads say in stereo.
I glance between them. Needed?
Hades’ lips press tight. This isn’t annoyance like a second ago, or even anger like when I came into the house. It’s…
What is it?
It can’t be guilt. I’m pretty sure gods don’t feel guilt. Especially this one.
He slides a look to me that I can’t interpret. “I’ll be there soon,” he says.
Cerberus nods, Rus gives me another nuzzle, and then the hellhound disappears the same way he arrived—in a cloud of smoke.
I shouldn’t ask. It’s none of my business.
I ask. “Not Isabel?”
“No.”
“Then who—”
“You should dress.”
It’s obvious he doesn’t want to tell me, but that only makes me want to find out more. “But it’s important?”
“Yes.” Curt and distant.
“All right…” I slowly turn on my heel.
“I won’t be here when you come out.”
I hesitate before I glance back. “I figured.”
Zero reaction. “We should talk when I return, work out a better strategy moving forward.”
“Don’t worry,” I tell him. “Zai and I are meeting for lunch and talking strategy. I’ve got it covered.”
“The hells you are.”
I don’t bother to wait to hear his next words as I shut my bedroom door in the god of death’s face.
part 4
keep your enemies closer
I’ve failed so many times,
not succeeding is now statistically impossible.
42
Did I Already Lose My Ally?
After bathing and dressing, I grab my tactical vest and slip it over my shoulders, then head out of my bedroom. I guess Hades must have left while I was in the shower. I try not to notice how the house feels quiet and lonely without his larger-than-life presence.
On my way to the stairs, I notice an open door that has always been closed when I’ve come by here, and my steps falter.
Quietly, I enter the narrow, windowless room—almost a closet, really. Painted entirely red, the room has only one thing in it. Well…lots of little things, but they all serve the bigger piece.
An altar.
Buttery sunlight pours in from a skylight overhead to fill the space with air and spotlight the altar itself. My heart constricts little by little, turning to a dull ache behind my ribs as I take in the details. I’ve seen altars to passed loved ones before, of course, but nothing like this.
It’s colorful, with bouquets upon bouquets of narcissus flowers—mostly in cheerful yellows and bright whites but with pops of purples and oranges and reds as well. They surround a torch that rises from the center of the table made of black obsidian. A glittering skull forms the pedestal at the top of the torch for deep-red flames that cast sparks into the air.
Two pomegranate trees on either side bend to touch each other over the altar, like lovers embracing. Dark-green leaves are interspersed with the large red, ripe fruit with their distinct star-shaped tuft on the bottom.
Persephone.
