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Demeter had all types of nymphs in her employment—alseids, daphnaie, meliae, naiads, and crinaeae—but this one was a dryad, an oak nymph. She wore a glamour, probably hoping that she would go unnoticed, but Hades could see her green skin beneath the magic. Even if her nature was not apparent, it was obvious she was up to something. Her eyes roamed the crowd, seeking and suspicious. She was clearly looking for someone.
“Has Lady Persephone arrived?” Hades asked, keeping his tone neutral, and yet after the embarrassing conversation he’d had with Hecate in his garden, he could not help being hopeful.
“Yes,” Ilias responded, and Hades felt a mix of relief and tension build inside him all at once, a push and pull that made him eager to see her.“The nymph followed her in. I didn’t prevent her from entering in the event that you wish to speak to her.”
“Thank you, Ilias,” Hades said.“Have her removed from the floor.”
At Hades’ request, Ilias spoke into his mic. In seconds, two ogres emerged from the shadows. The nymph’s eyes widened at their approach, one on either side. There was a short exchange, but she gave no fight and allowed the two creatures to escort her into the darkness of the club. They would leave her in a small, windowless room to wait until Hades was ready to confront her.
“You know what to do,” Hades said.“I’ll be there shortly.”
Ilias would conduct a background check on the nymph, learn her name, her associates, and her family. It was an arsenal of sorts, a way to weaponize words so Hades could obtain what he wanted from the nymph—for her to defy her mistress.
“Oh, and Ilias—make an appointment with Katerina when you are finished.”
Katerina was the director of The Cypress Foundation, Hades’ non-profit organization. If he was going to help mortals the way Persephone desired, he was going to have to create something special, and he knew just when to unveil the project—at the upcoming Olympian Gala.
He left the balcony and called up his glamour, moving unseen across the floor of Nevernight in search of Persephone. She had to be in the club, because he had sealed the entrances to the Underworld to keep her from coming and going without his knowledge.
As he searched the shadows, he came upon Minthe, who was engaged in an argument with Mekonnen. Hades rolled his eyes; there was nothing unusual about this. The nymph fought with everyone in his employment.
“We are not a charity!” Minthe was saying.
“She is not asking for charity.” Despite Minthe’s anger, Mekonnen remained calm. It was a trait Hades admired in the ogre, who he had appointed to Duncan’s position.
“She is asking for the impossible. Hades does not waste his time on grieving mortals.”
There was truth to that, and yet hearing the words out loud, hearing them spoken in a tone so careless and so crass, sent a spear right through his heart. Is that what he had sounded like when he had dismissed Orpheus? No wonder Persephone had been appalled.
He was suddenly at odds with the way Minthe and Persephone perceived him, as it struck him that they thought similarly. Minthe expected him to refuse a mortal in distress, and Persephone assumed the same.
“Since when do you decide what Hades considers worthy, Minthe?” Mekonnen asked, and Hades felt true appreciation for the ogre.
“A question I’d very much like to hear the answer to,” Hades said, stepping from the shadow.
Minthe whirled to face Hades, the surprise on her face evident in her raised brows and parted lips. Clearly, she did not have as much confidence speaking on his behalf when he was present.
“My lord,” Mekonnen said, bowing his head.
“Did I hear right, Mekonnen? There is a mortal here to see me?
“Yes, my lord. She is a mother. Her daughter is in the ICU at Asclepius Children’s Hospital.”
Hades’ mouth was set in a grim line. The Asclepius Foundation was one of his charities. There were elements of being the God of the Dead he did not like, and one of those was the death of children. As much as he understood the balance of life, he would never quite accept that the deaths of children were necessary.
“The child isn’t gone yet, my lord.”
“Show her to my office,” Hades instructed. He started to walk away, but paused.“And Minthe, I am your king, and you shall address me as such. My given name is not for you to speak.”
Hades crossed the floor of his club with Minthe on his heels. The nymph grabbed his arm, and Hades whirled to face her.
“You forget your place,” he hissed.
She did not even flinch, just stared at him with furious eyes. She was undaunted by his anger, fearless of his wrath.
“Any other time, you would have agreed with me!” she snapped.
“I have neveragreedwith you,” he said.“You have assumed you understand how I think. Clearly, you do not.”
