Neon Gods (Dark Olympus 1)
Everything about this situation should scare me, but I’m not about to let Hades intimidate me into backing out. Whatever he has planned for tonight, it can’t be worse than Zeus. That, I’m sure of.
I take my time getting ready. This room offers a surprising selection of hair products, which leads me to wonder if Hades has a habit of keeping women here. None of my business. I could walk out of this room and this house at any time, and that’s all I need to know.
The dresses are all beautiful but several sizes too big for me. I shrug and pull on the simplest one, a beaded sheath that’s a similar style to the dress I had on last night. The beads add some weight to the fabric, and it swings in a really satisfying way. I’m eyeing the shoes the woman left and considering my options when a knock sounds on my door.
Showtime.
I take a deep breath and pad to open the door. Hades stands there and, good gods, I’ve never seen a man pull off a black-on-black suit the way Hades can. He’s like a living shadow, a sexy, sexy living shadow. He looks down and glares at my feet. I shuffle back, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m just putting on shoes.”
“Don’t be absurd.”
I grasp on to my irritation with both hands. Better to step onto a verbal battleground than to let fear and uncertainty override everything. “I’m not being absurd.”
“You’re right. Wearing high heels after your feet were maimed less than twenty-four hours ago isn’t absurd. It’s stupid.” He’s full-on glowering now. “Just like running through Olympus in nothing more than a silk dress in the middle of the night.”
“I don’t know why we’re bringing that up again.”
“We’re bringing that up because I’m beginning to see a trend of you not prioritizing your health and safety.”
I blink. “Hades, they’re just shoes.”
“The fact remains.” He steps into the room, his intent clear.
I dance back. “Don’t you dare pick me up.” I swat at the air between us. “I’ve had about enough of that.”
“Cute.” He sounds like it’s anything but. Hades moves so quickly that even anticipating him, I barely let out an undignified squawk before he lifts me into his arms.
I freeze. “Put me down.” Kissing Hades earlier was one thing. Agreeing to sleep with him was something else. This is totally different. Having him hold me close as he walks through the hallways of his house so I don’t hurt myself further… It feels very, very different. Knowing that he doesn’t want me to injure myself was a useful tool in negotiating this morning. Now it just feels like a hurdle I’m not sure how to get past. “You don’t need to take care of me.”
“Yes, you’re doing a stand-up job of it yourself.” He sounds so put out by the whole situation that it immediately cheers me up.
My peevish desire to irk him rises again, and I don’t bother to resist it. Instead, I lay my head on his shoulder and tug his beard. “Maybe I just want to be carried about by a big, strong man who’s determined to save me.”
Hades arches a single eyebrow, managing to convey skepticism and mocking at the same time. “Is that so?”
“Oh, yes.” I flutter my eyelashes at him. “I’m very helpless, you see. What would I do without Prince Charming in dented black armor showing up to save me from myself?”
“I’m no Prince Charming.”
“On that, we can agree.” I give his beard another gentle tug. I like the way his grip tightens on me when I do it. He’s being careful to keep his hands on my dress and off my skin, but the thought of his fingers digging in as he does…other things…is enough to make me squirm.
“Hold still.”
“There’s a very simple solution to this. Put me down and let me walk. Problem solved.”
Hades takes the stairs down to the main floor…and then keeps going. Apparently he’s going to ignore me, which is one way to win an argument. I used to employ the same tactic against Psyche when we were children and she constantly stole my toys to take them off on fantastic adventures. Fighting didn’t work to make her stop. Going to our mother was out of the question. Telling Callisto would just result in her “fixing” the problem by destroying the toys in question. No, the only thing that worked was ignoring Psyche entirely. Eventually, she always broke and returned the toys. Sometimes she even apologized.
I will not break.
Since our conversation is apparently over, I settle into Hades’s arms like this is exactly where I want to be. Because we’re touching so much, I can feel him getting tenser and tenser. I hide my smile against his shirt. Take that.
He finally stops in front of a door. A black door. It’s perfectly flat, with no panels to mar its surface, and it shines eerily in the low light. I stare at our faintly distorted reflection in it. It’s almost like looking into a pool of water under the new moon. I have the strangest suspicion that if I touch it, my hand will sink right through its surface. “Are we diving right in?”