One of the many fun facts now at my disposal with the return of Persephone’s memories was that while in the Underworld, she and Demeter had always met in Tartarus. Not exactly the field trip I wanted to take.
Ever.
I stifled a half-panicked breath. Calm …
I had to meet with Demeter. This was my chance to make sure she didn’t end up wanting to murder Persephone. Therefore, I would be the absolute delight that she expected. “Lead on,” I told the gecko.
He crawled out of the room, and I obediently followed.
The gecko hugged the low edge of the wall, leading me through the palace via its twisty back hallways. He had an unerring sense of timing, turning into corridors just as voices faded off ahead of us and feet padded away.
He moved fast for a little guy too, never stopping to see if I was keeping up. Which I was, but barely. When we stepped outside, I was only dimly aware of the heat beating down on my head, and the ticklish twitching in my nose from the acrid tang of the dry grass.
Between the nerves and the total focus on not losing my tiny guide, I didn’t realize we’d reached Tartarus until the overpowering smell of sulphur had me gagging. I flung an arm up to cover my nose and mouth, but the scent was insidious. It snaked its putrid way inside me.
My lizard leader came to a stop. Before us was a bronze fence that stretched up and away as far as the eye could see.
I glanced down at the gecko. “Couldn’t you bring her out here?”
He waggled his head at me.
Uncertain, I placed one hand against the fence’s ridged surface, and practically buckled as the cries of the damned knocked the breath from me.
Tearing my hand off that gate was like trying to detach myself from the strongest magnet ever. Every molecule of me felt stuck, plastered to it in despair for all eternity. It magnified every self-criticism, every negative thought and fear into infinity.
Instrument of our destruction. Instrument of our destruction.
The mocking laughter from my vision filled my ears.
I slid down the fence, the skin on my legs pricking sharply as I hit a tangle of thorns. The pricking crept down my ankle, getting more frequent. Dully, I glanced down to find the gecko nipping at me.
I could almost hear him chittering at me to get up.
It was crazy hard but I managed to stagger to my feet. The gecko kept up his chatter, nipping at me every few feet to make sure I didn’t stop.
My limbs felt heavy, my gait sluggish. I was doing a pretty excellent zombie shuffle.
The gecko prodded me along for a bit, finally stopping at a gap in the fence. No, a small door that stood ajar. He ran through it.
I don’t know how Persephone had managed to keep coming here, because I couldn’t make myself take that first step into Tartarus. I had to take my hands, wrap them around my leg, lift it up, and set my foot down a step ahead. Over and over again. I stared at the ground, my willpower taxed to its limit.
The heavy clunk of the door shutting behind me let me know I’d made it through.
Unwillingly, resentfully, apprehensively, I looked around. Everything was black. From the mud on the ground, to the air itself.
Black roses with deadly thorns grew in wild tangles—the only foliage I could see. They looked like the drawing Jennifer had made for my tattoo. Guess I knew what I’d been channeling when I’d asked for them. Fleetingly, I wondered if I’d ever go back and get artwork that really suited me.
I forced myself to move deeper into Tartarus.
The air was ripe with sulphur, but I was getting used to the stink of rotten eggs now. Somewhat. I still sucked my nostrils together as best I could, as I made my way forward trailing the gecko.
Worse than the blackness, or the stench, or the despair I felt, was the identically frozen expression of utter hopelessness on every person I passed. Eyes wide and lost, they moaned and keened from the depths of their souls.
I sped up. There was no consolation to offer them and I was scared that if I stopped moving, their cries would suck the life from me. Also, the thought of them touching me was plain creepy.
At least I had no time to be nervous about seeing Demeter again. It was all I could do to keep my mind blank as I wound my way through this land of wretchedness and despondency.
Until I was enveloped in my mother’s arms.
She smelled sweet. Almost fruity. It cut through the Tartarus stench like a balm to my heart. That was the first thing I noticed. The second was that she was shorter than me.
Until now, my parents—especially my god ones—had been larger than life. Figuratively and literally in the case of Zeus. I’d never imagined that Demeter would be smaller than me. Not by much, but it gave her a fragility I hadn’t expected.
Her hug, however, was firm and loving and pure mom. It was the hug I’d been waiting for all of my life, and the hug I would have loved to savor. But I felt Persephone gnawing at my skin like a darkness. The tiny hairs on my arms—her arms?—bristled in seething resentment at Demeter’s touch. I had to suppress the overwhelming urge to rip myself free of her embrace.
I understood mommy issues. I had my own. In spades. And with the same mother. But despite everything I had experienced at Felicia’s hands, I still wanted to feel Demeter’s love.
If only for a second.
Even if it was borrowed. Even if it was just magic. Or fake, or whatever. Because I’d never had it and, with every fibre of my being, I wanted to savor that amazing feeling that I’d missed out on for so long.
I took it all in. How, when she hugged me, she slung her left arm over my right shoulder and her right arm under my left armpit, to kind of cocoon me in a sling of affection. How her cheek felt slightly flushed as she pressed it to mine. How, before she released me, she gave me a final tight squeeze.
I stockpiled it all in my memory. And I hated Felicia even more for having deprived me of it.
Jack had gotten every little detail right when he’d created a fake Demeter to trick me. Her dark hair, the crow’s lines around her eyes, the slight lilt of her Greek accent as she spoke my name and brushed a strand of hair from my face. I memorized her appearance.
“Has he contacted you?”
Demeter shook her head impatiently at my look of confusion. “Your father, Persephone. Has he bothered with you at all lately?”
“No. Of course not. But mama—” Instinctively, I had reverted to Persephone’s name for her.
Demeter cut me off before I could steer the conversation around to the equinox and what was or was not going to happen. “Selfish, arrogant man.”
“I prefer psychopathic narcissist,” I muttered, but she was on a roll.
Demeter gripped my hands, her eyes glittering. “Four days, kopella mou. We will have everything we want and he will have nothing.”
There was the familiar rush of rage. “Everything you want.”
“What we both want.” Demeter’s voice was firm.
Anxiety warred with anger. I cannot disappoint her. Thus will I play the perfect daughter until it is time for her to learn.
I closed my eyes to center myself. I was at the mercy of Persephone’s emotions. I had to get on top of this. Murder just wasn’t gonna happen a second time.
My very existence was at stake.
Think, Sophie … I frowned. I willed my breath to stay steady, my power to remain contained as I sifted through Persephone’s memories for something that could help. I only half-listened as Demeter spoke again. But when she said, “Tell me where you and Kyrillos plan to recite the ritual,” I came to full attention.
“The less people know, the better,” I hedged.
Demeter gave a familiar grumble and smoothed her hair. A gesture I’d seen from Felicia many times.
My heart twisted.
“Now is not the time to be coy,” she said. “I want to be there. To make sure your father understands how his promises and lies have brought about his defeat.”
I was lost. There was nothing in Persephone’s memories about Zeus having promised anything.
Demeter’s lips were tight. “He wants it all. He will have nothing. No one. You think she will want him when he is no longer ruler? He will see how I was the only one who truly loved him, but it will be too late.”
The bitterness in her voice stunned me. That’s what this was all about? The fact that Zeus wouldn’t leave Hera for Demeter? The fury of a woman scorned?
She had been betrayed in love and now she expected me to do the same thing to Kai? This had to stop. “Mama,” I beseeched her, “let it go. He’s not worth it.” But even as I said it, I knew she wouldn’t listen. It had always been about him. Even my abduction—Persephone’s abduction—was about making him notice her. It was the only reason she cared so much.
I was losing it. I felt like Persephone was blindly taking over. Not a voice I had made manifest, but a personality alive and well and righteously pissed off. She dwarfed me with her fury, and I no longer knew where she began and I ended.
Rage and hopelessness and destruction. She was me and I was her and Tartarus worked its oily evils upon us both.
“He is everything.” Demeter’s words, combined with the cold look she gave me, allowed me, Sophie to regain the upper hand. “I won’t betray Kyrillos,” I said. The words were thick in my mouth. Almost impossible to speak. Persephone didn’t want me to say them and Demeter didn’t want to hear them.“There has to be another way.” One where we all got out of this without any collateral damage. I twisted my fingers, welcoming the tight pain.
“You will do as you promised.”
My ears rang with Persephone’s howling, her grief and pain swallowing me completely. “You’re drowning in hate.” I wasn’t sure if I was speaking to Persephone or Demeter.
Demeter flicked me a contemptuous glance. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love him. But he doesn’t know how to love. Which is why you and I will defeat him. Then we will have each other.” She bestowed a smile on me that promised sunshine and happily-ever-after as a loving family.
It was all a lie.
Because most of these gods didn’t understand love. For them, it was all selfish passion. Not the glorious connection that humans immortalized in books and songs and movies. That was about giving yourself freely and willingly.
I wanted that scary free fall where your heart is in someone else’s hands and theirs in yours. Instead of making you weak, it was the most precious, most secure place to be.
Most gods couldn’t see that. For them, love was only allowed from a position of power. And any hurt would be paid back tenfold with ultimate destruction. They had it so wrong.
But I had no clue what to do, other than what Persephone had always done. I put a smile on my face and said, “I want you to be happy.” At least Demeter would think I was still in line with her plans.
Demeter’s expression softened as she took my words for agreement. “My girl.” She pressed a hand to my cheek. “Go back now. Before you are missed.”
“But—”
Demeter kissed my forehead. “It will all work out fine.”
I hesitated but, at her small nod, gave a final hug and headed back toward the door out of Tartarus. I couldn’t ignore the feeling in my gut. It wasn’t going to be fine at all.
On the bright side, every step away from the despondency of Tartarus made me feel lighter, until I was practically skipping my way along the cobblestones back to the palace. Granted, it may have been kind of a manic lightness. After my encounters with Demeter and Hades, I was a mess.
I laughed, partially in amusement at how wrung out I felt, and partially in relief at being far away from that place.
“I like to hear you laugh.”
I spun around to find Kai sitting on a low branch of a tree. His grin was so full of tenderness that my insides began a happy patter. Until I remembered that those feelings were for her. That sobered me up. I straightened and adopted my best pleasant tone.
Yeah, okay, no. I didn’t do any of that.
Seriously. I was a sad sad case. I stared at him, drinking him in. Not that I needed to since every detail was burned into my brain. From his eyes, to his voice, to the tiny scar on his hand.
My ribcage tightened. My breathing constricted. This was killing me. I needed Kai to know me. Maybe, if things were all honeymoon happy between us in the real world, I could have sucked this up, and we could laugh about it later. But back there, we were still working through the very betrayal that I was desperately trying to avoid here. Everything was still so fragile between us.
I dropped my head. My energy zapped.
Kai dropped to the ground, moving so silently that I didn’t even realize he’d come to stand next to me until I felt his hand splay across my belly. I leaned into his warmth. Into his strength.
He tilted my head up with his finger. “I prepared a picnic for us.”
The sun slanted down on his dark locks, making a halo around his head. His magnificence in this moment temporarily soothed even Persephone’s clawing animosity.
Yeah, she loved him too.
I reached out for him, not knowing if I was driving this train, or if she was.
Kai beamed at me like I’d just handed him Christmas. “Beautiful love.” He took my hand. “Let me adore you.”
It was tender and romantic and made me feel like I’d been doused in cold water.
Because Kai, my Kai, would never in a million years say that to me. Not without both of us laughing. It wasn’t us.
I didn’t want it to be us.
I wanted that arrogant sly boy who could match wits and mouthiness with me. Who seemed perpetually amused and annoyed by me, and couldn’t stay away. I put my hand on his chest, emboldened by the wariness in his eyes. Yeah, Persephone wasn’t a “make the first move” kind of girl.
I clutched Kai’s shirt, the soft fabric spilling through my fingers. I knew this was madness. But some deeper, essential part of me needed to be recognized. I hoped that maybe I could spark a connection that would make him see who he was really with.
Me.
I didn’t want to be her anymore. I leaned forward and gently bit his lip.
His body jerked and his breath hitched.
I pulled back slightly, my body vibrating as he jerked me back against him.
Remember me! I held his gaze and pushed the thought with all my might. I swallowed, my pulse kicking up as I saw that wild darkness in his eyes. Then I kissed him as hard as I could, willing him to know me in every touch.
Kai devoured me. There was no other word for it. It was like the dam between us had broken. His arm tightened around me, holding me in place against the length of his body, while he kissed me over and over again.
This may have been a new dynamic for them, but gawd was it awesome for me. I was in sensory overload heaven: the fullness of his lips, the possessiveness of his hands, and his unique scent that was my own personal aphrodisiac.
I shifted closer to him, whimpering when he broke contact. Heart racing, breath heaving, I looked at him and saw my questioning mirrored in his eyes.
But not the good questions like, “Do I get more of that?” and “How soon?”
Kai stared at me like he couldn’t figure me out.
Of course he couldn’t. Because I was acting like myself and he had no idea I, Sophie, existed. I closed my eyes, blinking back a furious wetness. Then I shoved at his chest hard and brushed past him.
“You’re leaving?” He sounded incredulous.
I nodded, hurrying off because I didn’t trust myself to speak. Besides, what was I going to say? “Every time I kiss you and you don’t remember that I’m actually a seventeen-year-old human who happened to get your dead girlfriend’s essence stuffed inside her, a part of me wants to die?”
Yeah, right.
“Goddess—” he began, sounding exceedingly annoyed.
I whirled, scowling. “Do NOT call me that.” That was Kai’s name for me. I could take all the Greek endearments he wanted to throw at Persephone, but no way did I want to hear him call her “Goddess.” I couldn’t handle it.
I broke into a run.
Kai didn’t follow.
I hadn’t really expected him to.
I ran out of steam back by the shores of the Akherousian lake. I strode into the water, not even bothering to kick off my sandals or hitch up my dress. I glared at the reflection of Persephone’s perfect face.
I smacked at the water, and watched her ripple. “Damn it! I am Sophie Bloom.” Smack! “I am Sophie Bloom.” Smack!
I think the technical term for my watery assault was hysteria. Every time I looked down and saw her face staring back at me, I felt disconnected. My skin prickled with the fear of not belonging in my own body.
Every time I shouted my name, I felt more and more depersonalized in the face of the unyielding reality of her, well, face. My emotional turmoil reached a fever pitch and I was utterly unmoored.
My peripheral vision faded and I was thrust back into my vision.
The rock on which I stood rose up, molding around my legs to entomb me. With growing horror, I watched it become a box to encase my entire body.
The pomegranate tree had burned to an ashy skeleton that threatened to crumble into nothingness.
John Lennon sang louder and more insistently but he was wrong. This wasn’t love. This was getting buried alive.
There was a grinding noise and I watched wild-eyed as a heavy stone lid swung shut over me. I pushed against it with all my strength, but my arms bowed uselessly against it.
The world went black.