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Hades descended the stairs. He needed to do something. Perhaps he should go back to the hell and work. But that wouldn’t be enough. He needed to do something physical, or he would go insane.
At that moment, three of his men gathered in the hall.
“Are you coming with us, Master?” Hersham asked. “To get the shipment into the dungeon.”
Right. The shipment.The smugglers brought cases of brandy, tea, and other spirits on specific nights, and today was one of those nights. Aside from spirits, Hades bought the most expensive silks for his harlots as well. Everything needed to be the best in his hells.
Although Hades was not directly involved in smuggling anymore, it was much cheaper buying the smuggled goods than legally. Besides, he had many contacts willing to trade with him from the days past.
It was the perfect activity for him now. Perhaps hauling the crates of smuggled goods would cleanse his soul and tire his body.
“Yes, I shall come with you,” Hades said, and the men livened up instantly.
They hauled the boxes for over two hours. Sweat soaked through Hades’ shirt and breeches, and his hair was wet as though he’d run through the rain. More than that, his muscles were in agony.
“Getting tired, Master?” Hersham laughed. “Must be all that sitting around in the office.”
It was a testament to how bad Hades must have looked that the man even dared to make fun of him. People barely looked his way on his best days.
A smile tugged at his lips. A rare sensation, especially since Ava died.
“Are we done then?” Hersham asked.
They looked around the stock room. The boxes filled the room from floor to ceiling.
“I think that’s it,” another man chimed in.
“Yes.” Hades turned toward the doors, ready to leave.
He made a step and froze in place. A strange smell came from outside. And what was that sound?
“I wager—” Hersham started, but Hades raised his hand to silence him.
The cries got louder. Then there were sounds of footsteps, and Hades could hear someone calling for him. He stepped out of the door and heard it clearer.
“Master!” Lucien came running down the corridor. “Thank God you’re here!”
“What’s wrong?”
“Raid!” he yelled.
A raid? Nobody dared raid Hades’ hell. What the devil?
“Go back, escort everyone back into the house. Who the fuck dared to raid us?”
“The Shadows!” Lucien said, with a note of fear in his voice.
“The Shadows? As in several?” They had never attacked so openly and never in numbers. Nobody was even certain they existed until Ava’s death. Until recently, they were only a legend. What had changed?
Hades hurried down the corridor and toward the hell. He quickly reached the secret passage and entered the main hall.
What he saw made his blood run cold. A few men in pitch-black clothing, holding guns, were overturning the furniture and looking through the rooms. It was after hours, so there were no patrons, but the workers ran and screamed in turmoil.
How did three men cause such chaos? Where were the guards? Hades noticed that most people had been herded to the underground passages. Good.
Hades growled and charged at one of the men. He slammed him against the wall, holding his arm to his throat.
