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“Does she really think a storm will keep us apart?”
It was that question that made him realize she had no idea how bad this was going to get.
“Have you ever seen snow, Persephone?” he asked.
“From afar.”
Hades met her gaze, eyes searching. He could not figure out how to communicate what would inevitably happen.
“What is going through your mind?” she whispered as if she were afraid to find out.
“She will do this until the gods have no choice but to intervene.”
“And what happens then?”
Then I destroy the world, he thought.
He chose not to speak, and she did not ask for an answer.
A moment longer and they were close enough to Nevernight. Hades straightened, which also caused Persephone to shift away.
He hated it.
“Antoni, please see that Lady Persephone returns safely to Nevernight.”
“What?”
Hades reached for her and kissed her before she could say anything more. His tongue slid into her mouth, and it took everything in his power not to pull her into his lap, to seal their bodies together, to fuck her in the back of this car.
Instead he stayed focused on her mouth, his fingers tangled in her hair, gripping her tight to keep her in place, to keep him in place.
Fuck, how was this always so good?
He tore from her lips, pleased to see her eyes alight. It was her passion and her frustration.
She wanted him.
His lips quirked and he touched her with the tips of his fingers. “Do not fret, my darling. You shall come for me tonight.”
Then he vanished before he decided not to leave at all.
CHAPTER VIII
DIONYSUS
Dionysus waited for Ariadne in the common area.
They were heading to the pleasure district, where they would begin their search for Medusa. It was the last location the maenads had been able to trace her to, and beyond that, she seemed to have disappeared.
“That’s the fifth time you have checked your watch in the lastminute,” said Naia. “I do not think it will get her here any faster.”
Dionysus scowled and glared at the maenad who sat in an oversize chair, crocheting. She wasn’t even looking at him.
“She’s late,” he said.
“And you’re never late?” asked Lilaia, who sat opposite Naia, a book propped open in her lap.
“Not when it counts,” Dionysus replied.
