“Lord Hades?” a lady’s tentative voice called from the open doorway, followed by a knock. A young woman with long, copper curls stood in the entrance to the throne room. She was clad in a plain white dress that was clearly too large for her slight frame. As she pulled up the sleeve falling from her shoulder, she shifted her body weight, supporting something heavy just on the other side of the door.

Hades’s jaw ticked, and he sucked in a deep breath. “Yes, Imogen?”

Athan’s heart froze as the willowy girl pulled and pushed a very wobbly Hope through the door.

Hope’s hair hung in wet clumps down her back. Her gray T-shirt was torn up the seam on the side and flapped open, exposing her golden skin. Her denim shorts were frayed, and rivulets of water ran down her legs, leaving a puddle of moisture at her feet. Her fierceness was gone, and she looked like a drowned kitten, lost and afraid. Her normally vibrant gold eyes were glassy and unfocused and looked right past him.

Athan stood dumbstruck as he stared at her. What could have—?

“Hope!” Xan crossed the room with quick strides. He wrapped her in his arms and kissed her forehead. “Gods, I’ve been so worried for you.”

Athan’s heart ached, but still he couldn’t move. Perhaps he was wrong to want her so. Perhaps he’d been mistaken in coming after her. Xan’s feelings were apparent, and perhaps Hope returned them. Maybe she’d gotten over Athan, just like he’d finally let his feelings for Isabel go.

In retrospect, had Hope really had feelings for him, or had he manipulated her? The crack in his heart opened into a jagged fissure, and something deep within sunk with a sense of hopelessness.

The girl, Imogen, stood inside the doorway, hands at her sides, and her face void of emotion. The material of her dress was wet all down the right side, clinging to her slight figure.

Xan continued to whisper to Hope, words of encouragement, compassion, words of love.

Her eyes softened, and her arms moved to reciprocate the hug from the other demigod.

Athan steeled himself for what he knew was coming.

Hope froze, and Athan could see the moment she came back to herself.

She pulled back from Xan, slowly at first, her face clouded with confusion. She clenched her jaw, ripped his hands from her shoulders, and shoved him away, immediately dropping into a fighting stance.

“Who are you?” she spat, her arms coming up into guard.

Shock burst across Xan’s face, and Athan knew his face mirrored it.

When no one approached her, she relaxed her shoulders, but her hands remained outstretched, ready to push them all away.

“The Sphinx?” Hades asked with a growl punctuating the question.

“In the river, Lord,” Imogen answered neutrally.

Hades strode to Hope, his footsteps oddly silent on the stone floor. She shrunk back, but he grabbed her arm, preventing further retreat. Something about his presence must have told her the futility of fleeing from the god. He touched her hair, catching a drop of the water still dripping from the ends. He put his fingers to his tongue and shook his head. “The Lethe.”

Athan wanted to scream in frustration. He turned to Hades. “Can you burn it out of her? If we make her throw it up, can you . . . can you give her back her memories?”

The Lethe. The river of un-mindfulness, where all who drank experienced complete amnesia. What in the name of all the gods was she doing swimming in the Lethe?

Hope looked like a cornered animal, her eyes flitting over each of them as if measuring where her greatest threat would come from.

“Hope?” Xan held up his hands in surrender. “Hope, luv, it’s Xan. Do you remember me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t know you.” Her gaze dropped to his weapon, and she squinted as if trying to remember something. “You chased me and my mom . . . Don’t you hunt monsters?” she asked, and then sucked in a deep breath. “Are you going to try to kill me?”

Xan kept his hands up. “No, luv. I . . . We came to rescue you.” He indicated Athan with a nod.

Hope stared at Athan. She glanced at Xan again, but when he made no movement toward her, she let her attention come back to Athan. “Do I . . . Do I know you?”

She sounded so unsure of herself, so hesitant. And he thought his heart couldn’t hurt any more than it already had.

“I met you in Goldendale last year.” Everything in him wanted to run to her. To reassure her as Xan had tried.

She nodded. “I don’t remember, but you seem . . . familiar.”

Her gaze ping-ponged between Athan and Xan. Hope cleared her throat and wiped her palms on her wet shorts. “I don’t remember . . .”

She grimaced and closed her eyes.

Athan couldn’t even fathom what that would feel like. How much had she lost?

Her eyes opened and she searched the room, looking into the shadow as horror etched upon her features. She stared at Hades and Persephone and released a strangled cry. In a hoarse voice, she whispered, “Oh, gods.”

Persephone laughed, the twittering of a nervous giggle, but it stopped abruptly as Hope slumped to the ground.

Athan stepped forward, but Xan beat him there again, swooping Hope up into his arms.

“Where can I take her?” Xan’s voice was gruff and soaked with emotion.

Hades and Persephone shared a look, and then Persephone motioned with her hand for Xan to follow. “Imogen, you will come.”

The fair-skinned girl bobbed a curtsy. “Lady, I live to serve.”

Athan moved to follow after the group.

“Son of Hermes,” Hades intoned. “Stay if you would.”

“I’d rather not.”

The god of the Underworld raised his brows. “No?” With a flick of his wrist, the door closed behind the party. “You’ll find there is nothing for you to do, and my wife will kick your friend out as well before she assesses the monster.”

Athan ground his teeth together but stayed where he was. It would do no good to argue.

Hades swirled his hand and two leather chairs appeared, a squat stone table between them. On the table there was a crystal bar set with etched tumblers filled with amber liquid. “A drink?”

The son of Hermes snorted. “I’d rather not bind myself here, if you don’t mind.”

Hades chuckled a rich, dark sound void of mirth. “Of course.”

One of the glasses disappeared. Hades threw back his drink and then sighed. “Do you trust him? Your friend?”

Why would he ask? Athan’s mind went in several directions at once, but all avenues came to one destination. “Yes. I trust him. He wouldn’t lie.” In fact, Athan couldn’t think of a time when Xan had ever lied. “Why?”

“I’ve been trying to get the Sphinx here for almost eighteen years.”

That made no sense. “You have two dead ones here. Isn’t that enough?”

Hades chuckled again. He pushed to the edge of his seat and leaned forward. “I need her alive.”

Athan scooted back into the chair, the leather so soft he could curl up in it. He scratched his head and tried to put the pieces together. “You want to use her as a pawn?”

The crystal glass refilled, and the god again drained it. “Are you sure you don’t want a drink?” He set the tumbler down, and with a wave it was full. “I’m more than happy to make an exception for you. It appears that you could use some fortitude.”

Yes, he wanted a drink, but he had no reason to trust Hades. “So why do you want her?”

“Do you know,” he whispered, “if she has the Book of the Fates ?”

Athan willed his face to betray nothing. Why would Hades be asking about that? “Don’t you have them all here?”

The god’s pale lips twitched. “I was told we were missing exactly six. Up until last week, five of them were in the Olympian library. But they were delivered, interestingly, by your father.” He paused as if waiting for information. When Athan said nothing, Hades continued, “Like everything else associated with the gods of the Underworld, the Books had been sealed. Those five were requested by Artemis a few months ago, for some research. I hope she was able to complete it before Hera found out.”

Artemis had requested the Books of the Fates Hope had searched while in the conservatory. “Hera found out what?”

Hades shrugged, but the intensity in his eyes belied his casual demeanor. “Hera was the one that ordered them returned . . . I was told.”

Why would Hera want the Books sealed in the Underworld? And why would Artemis get involved? And what was going on with Thanatos? Athan’s head hurt from trying to formulate answers to questions. His gaze flitted to the door. Where the Hades was Xan? “Why don’t you ask my father what’s going on?”

Hades tapped the arm of the chair. “We don’t speak of it. He . . . He would not get involved.”

Not get involved? It seemed that they were all swimming in it. Whatever it was. “What do you want from me?”

“And now we come to the crux of it. You are not of my realm, so I can’t compel you to serve me. In fact, I can’t even request it. So, I need you to think, young man.”

Athan tried to sort through the mess of the last few days. The Skia attack in the hospital, and then again in the Underworld. What had Hecate said?

“Thanatos is making a bid for your power.” As soon as he said the words, the truth hovered before them both.

“But that is nothing new,” the lord of the Underworld said. “There are squabbles all the time. Nothing that ever amounts to anything. We’re all stuck here together.”

Athan shook his head. Thanatos had tried to suck Hecate into it as well. “Are you really bound to the Underworld?”

Hades nodded. “And so is everything in my realm that isn’t mortal in some fashion. My Skia can leave and come back, but they cannot bring anything but the dead with them. I’ve had them try without success.” He held up his hand. “And before you protest their existence, they are a necessity. They provide balance and justice to the realm.”

“Balance?”

“Without Skia, the demigods would be immortal, just like the gods.”

It was disturbing how that made sense. “But Hope is a monster.”

“And as such is immune to the Skia.”

That couldn’t be . . . Why would Darren attack her? There was a piece Athan was missing. Something didn’t make sense.

The door opened, and Xan strode through. “Bloody hell. What is wrong with Perseph—?” He swallowed whatever he’d been about to say. “Ah, I mean, your wife sure knows how to take charge of a situation, Lord.”

Hades smiled, his eyes filled with joy at the mention of his wife. It was the first smile from the god that held any warmth. “That she does.”

Athan worried over Hades’s words. With a nod to Xan, Athan turned back to the god. “Why would Skia attack Hope?”

Hades frowned as if the idea was ridiculous. “There’s no reason for them to attack her. They would’ve been trying to get her here.”

One had attacked her. Multiple times. “But Darren tried to cut her throat. I saw—”

His dark eyes flashed murder, and he stared Athan down. “Are you quite sure it was Darren?”

Athan nodded.

Hades stood and threw the crystal tumbler against the wall with a curse. Crystal fragments ricocheted across the floor.

“Both my first and my second,” Hades muttered. With a thunderous yell, he picked up the crystal tray and its contents, and they followed the first glass to oblivion.