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“W-who are you?” the girl asked Hades nervously. “And why did they kneel?”
“Don’t you think I should be the one asking that question,” Hades asked with an arched brow, “considering you’re the one gatecrashing my party?”
Her eyes widened. “So there really was a party?”
“Yes.” He was puzzled by her ecstatic reaction. It was almost as if he had granted her immortality with his words.
“Bloody hell,” he heard her mumble and almost smiled. With the exception of Artemis and Athena, no female acquaintance of his was the type to swear and that this fragile-looking girl would do so made her even more interesting in his eyes.
“So it really is happening.” She appeared talking to herself, a fact that did not escape his notice or the other two Olympians.
“She appears quite mad,” Hermes murmured in the ancient tongue known only to Olympians.
“She is only nervous.” Hades mentally winced at the defensive note of his voice and wondered why he was even bothering to—-
Her head suddenly jerked up, taking him by surprise.
Maybe she really is mad, Hades thought uneasily.
“This may sound stupid, but...” She cleared her throat. “Is this not a dream?”
Amused but even more puzzled at the way she held her breath after asking her question, he said simply, “Most assuredly not.”
The girl started jumping for joy, and a reluctant but genuine smile tugged at Hades’ lips. A part of him was starting to believe she was as mad as Hermes’ suggested, but even so she was proving to be more entertaining than even the most accomplished of courtesans, and at his age he had met more than a few of them.
With the girl lost in her inexplicable euphoria, Hades took his time studying her. She was not as beautiful as his former queen, but she was lovely in her own way, with long blond hair, bright blue eyes, and ivory-kissed skin.
The typical English rose, the god of the Underworld mused even though she was actually the first British woman he had ever met.
The girl suddenly stopped jumping, and a glance at her burning cheeks told him she had just become aware of his scrutiny. Hades knew the polite thing to do would have been to stop staring. If he had been the old Hades, he would have done that.
But since he was not—-
He swept his gaze over her one more time, starting from her feet and all the way up—-
When he deliberately let his gaze linger on her breasts, the girl’s chest began to rise and fall rapidly. That was good. He wanted her aware of him, as his future queen should be. He knew he was being reckless, but what was there to lose? She was human and he was the god of the Underworld. If he wanted her dead, he only had to snap her fingers and she would be.
The girl crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re not supposed to stare at me like that.”
He only smiled, drawling, “Is that so?” He was beginning to enjoy how unpredictable she was, and more and more he was warming to the idea of making her his prophesied queen – even if she might not be it.
She was delectably beddable, Hades thought, and that was always important. But even more pertinent was the fact that a young human such as her would most likely be biddable and moldable as well.
With this girl, he could turn everything around again.
Everything would be normal.
Everyone could also stop pretending they did not see him as broken – and maybe then, Hades, too, would stop seeing himself as broken as well.
Hades looked at Apollo, and switching to their ancient tongue, he asked abruptly, “Do you sense her speaking of any untruth?” Apollo’s powers were like a double-edged sword. While it prevented people from lying to the god of truth, it also prevented Apollo from uttering anything but the truth.
“No.” To Hades’ surprise, Apollo had chosen to speak in English, and when the girl swung around to face the other Olympian, Apollo murmured, “She has been speaking the truth from the start.”
The girl gasped, and her tone was filled with wonder as she said, “You are Apollo.”
Jealousy struck Hades like a bolt that came from nowhere, leaving him disconcerted. How was it that he had only known her for mere moments and already he considered her his property?
“You are, aren’t you?” The girl was gazing at Apollo like he were a god, and granted that was true but even so – Hades didn’t like it one damn bit.
Other gods, even the lesser ones, would have considered her straightforwardness an impertinence but since Apollo was most used to spending time in human company, the golden-haired Olympian only smiled, saying courteously, “Yes, milady, I am.”
“Bloody, bloody—-” The girl started jumping again. “I can’t believe you’re really Apollo, the god of truth and light!”
Apollo grinned. “Yes.” He found himself quite charmed at the girl’s excitement and for one moment he experienced a pang of regret that this girl could indeed be the god of the Underworld’s prophesied queen.
“But what about me, milady,” Hermes interrupted in an injured tone.
The girl was staring at Hermes’ sandals. “Bloody, bloody—-”
Hermes and Apollo laughed out loud when the girl started jumping again.
“You’re Hermes! Hermes! Hermes!”
It had been a long time since Hermes had witnessed such genuine excitement in reaction to his identity and he began to regret that this girl could indeed belong to Hades.
Then again, ‘could’ was the operative word.
The same thought occurred to the two Olympians at the same time, and their gazes turned shrewd and calculating as they studied the girl anew.
Bristling at the gleam of interest in the other gods’ eyes, Hades reached for the girl, his fingers closing around her tiny wrist. She gasped at his touch, but he didn’t let go and instead yanked her towards him.
Apollo and Hermes could not stop themselves from grinning. They had never seen the god of the Underworld make such a blatant claim on any woman before, not even with Persephone – and that was a good thing.
Hades tipped her chin up, and when her blue eyes clashed with his, he murmured silkily, “Since you have correctly guessed their identities, then I suppose you should know who I am as well?”
She didn’t answer.
“Amazing.” Hermes began to chuckle. “She doesn’t seem to know who you are, milord.”
“Of course she knows who I am,” Hades snapped even though he wasn’t actually quite sure if she did. He ran his knuckles against her cheek and his irritation was partially mollified by the way she so sweetly trembled in his arms. “You know who I am, don’t you, my beauty?”
Apollo smirked. The god of the Underworld, who was one of the most private gods in history, was actually seducing the girl in front of them.
“Say my name, milady.” Hades lowered his head. “Say my name or—-”
She suddenly tried shoving him away, and although it was like a butterfly trying to make a tower topple, Hades let go of her, stunned at her inexplicable show of resistance.
Hermes shook his head, murmuring in their language, “This is shaping up to be one of the most entertaining times I have had in recent centuries.”
“It is the same for me.” Apollo snapped his fingers and handed Hermes a tub of steaming hot butter popcorn. He snapped his fingers a second time to summon one for himself, and when he saw the girl staring at them, he asked chivalrously, “Would you like one as well, milady?”
Before the girl could answer, Hades had already snapped his fingers and thrust the tub of popcorn to her hands. “Here you go.” The idea that her first gift from a god would come from anyone but him was so infinitely detestable, Hades didn’t care if the Olympians would end up laughing at him – which they already were.
The girl shook her head, asking blankly, “What am I going to do with this?”
“Eat it,” he said irritably, “obviously.”
“But I don’t want popcorn.”
“Then it’s gone.” He snapped his fingers, and the girl jumped back when the popcorn disappeared from her hands.
“Bloody hell!”
“You curse too much,” Hades remarked.
“I can’t help it,” she exclaimed. “This is an occasion for swearing, don’t you think? One moment I’m in a library, another moment a magical door appears, a crystal key unlocks it, and then poof! I’m here!” She gestured to him. “And you’re here!”
“Me.”
“You!”
“And who am I?”
Her lips pursed.
He stalked towards her, and she slowly backed away. Not wanting to waste time chasing after her, Hades used his power to disappear—-
He heard her gasp.
A moment later, and he appeared right behind him.
She backed into him, gasped again, whirled around, saw Hades and let out a scream.
Apollo clucked his tongue, murmuring, “That’s cheating.” But his tone was more amused than anything.
Hermes only shrugged. “I would have done it sooner if it were me.”
Apollo snorted. “Yes. You probably would.”
Taking advantage of her confusion, Hades pulled her into his arms and lowering his head, he whispered into her ear, “Enough waltzing around the truth, milady. Tell me who I am.” He felt her inhale deeply at his command, and he stiffened, knowing it would—-
Her breasts rubbed against his chest, and even as she whimpered in shock, Hades’ eyes closed as lust razed his blood at the sweet, scorching-hot contact.
Opening his eyes, he looked down at her with dark eyes glittering with need, and his voice was guttural as he said, “I await your answer, milady.”
She swallowed.
“Do not even think of lying,” he warned her. “I would know if you do, even without Apollo’s help, and if you do—-” He bit her ear, causing her to jerk against him. His arms tightened around her, and he purred, “I will make sure you suffer.”
She whimpered, and the sound of it told him that she understood exactly what kind of suffering him in mind.
Licking her ear and savoring the way she shivered, he said softly, “Now milady, I will ask you one last time. Who am I?”
She answered in a trembling whisper, “The Lord of the Underworld.”
Hades stilled, and for one moment it seemed time itself had stopped as well, almost as if the Three Crones were gazing down at him with watchful eyes, their fingers paused mid-air, waiting to see which direction he would want the threads of his existence to take.
He looked down at the girl, whose bright blue eyes were filled with confusion and—-
He sucked his breath.
Desire.
Even though she was struggling to hide it, he saw it easily, and the knowledge that she desired him was as succulent as the sweetest ambrosia. It had been so long since he had last felt such sensations – this heady, drunken feeling of knowing that a girl wanted him so.
She wetted her lips, and the sight of it had him craving to bite her.
Next time, he promised himself.
But for now—-
He cupped her face. “You are correct, milady,” he said huskily. His gaze remained trained on her as he slowly lowered his head. “I am the Lord of the Underworld—-”
Panic crossed her face, and she tried shoving him away again, but this time Hades did not let go.
“—-and you are my prophesied queen.”