Neon Gods (Dark Olympus 1)

She finally looks at me. “Are you going to tell me where there is?”

“No.”

“Such a tease.”

I squeeze her hand. “Maybe I just like the look on your face when you first experience something.”

It’s hard to tell in the shadows of the growing dark, but I think she blushes. “You know, if you wanted to distract me, sex is always a good option.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I turn us down a narrow alley. Persephone follows me without hesitation to the large metal door at the end. I glance at her. “Nervous?”

“No,” she answers immediately. “I’m with you, and we both know you won’t let anything happen to me.”

I blink. “You’re that sure of me?”

She smiles, some of the worry in her eyes dissipating. “Of course I am. You’re the fearsome Hades. No one fucks with you, which means no one will fuck with me while I’m with you.” She leans in, her breasts pressing against my arm. “Right?”

“Right,” I say faintly. I can’t even enjoy her teasing because I’m too busy reeling at her casual statement. I’m with you, and we both know you won’t let anything happen to me. As if it’s that simple. As if it’s a truth.

It is. I would commit unforgivable acts to keep Persephone safe. But somehow hearing her say it aloud makes it so much more real.

She trusts me.

I motion to the door simply for something to do. “There’s still enough light to study the columns if you like.”

“I like.” She keeps a hold on my hand as she peers at the white columns on either side of the door. I watch her instead of them, already knowing what she’s seeing. A revel in a magical forest with satyrs and nymphs eating and drinking and enjoying themselves. Persephone finally leans back and grins at me. “Another portal.”

“Portal?”

“Show me what’s behind the door, Hades.”

I push open the door, and Persephone’s gasp is almost lost in the commotion on the other side. She starts to push past me, but I keep my grip on her hand. “No need to rush.”

“Speak for yourself.” Her eyes are even wider than normal as she takes in the scene in front of us.

The indoor market is open most nights of the week during the winter. The ceiling is lost to the darkness above us, the warehouse an echoing space—or it would be if it were empty. This time of year, it’s filled with bustling shoppers and vendors. Semipermanent stalls are set up in narrow rows. They’re all a uniform size, but the owners have made each space their own with brightly colored canopies and signs advertising everything from produce to soap to desserts to trinkets. All of them have shops scattered around the lower city, but they keep a sampling of their products here.

Some of these people have had shops since I was a small child. Some of them stretch back generations. The entire warehouse is filled with the clamor of people buying and selling and a tangled mix of delicious food smells.

I use the noise as an excuse to slip my arm around Persephone’s waist and pull her close to speak directly into her ear. “Hungry?”

“Yes.” She still hasn’t taken her eyes off the market. It’s not as crowded tonight as it will be on the weekends, but there is still a large number of people crammed into the rows between the stalls. “Hades, what is this?”

“Winter market.” I inhale her summery scent. “During the warmer months, this whole setup moves out into a city block that’s specifically designated for this purpose. It’s open every night of the week, though some of the vendors cycle through.”

She turns to look at me. “This is like a secret world. Can we… Can we explore?” Her curiosity and joy are a balm to my soul that I never knew I craved.

“That’s what we’re here for.” Once again, I tug her back when she’d bolt into the crowd. “Food first. That’s my only stipulation.”

Persephone grins. “Yes, Sir.” She bounces onto her toes and kisses my cheek. “Take me to your favorite food place here.”

There it is again, the feeling of sharing parts of me with this woman that no one else gets to see. Of her appreciating and enjoying the bits of me that aren’t strictly Hades, ruler of the lower city, the shadow member of the Thirteen. In moments like this one, it’s as if she really sees me, and that’s intoxicating in the extreme.

We end up at a gyro stall, and I nod at Damien behind the counter. He grins at me. “Long time, no see.”

“Hey.” I nudge Persephone closer to the stall. “Damien, this is Persephone. Persephone, this is Damien. His family has been selling gyros in Olympus for, what is it? Three generations?”

“Five.” He laughs. “Though if you ask my uncle, it’s closer to ten, and on top of that, we can trace our lines back to Greece to some head cook who served Caesar himself.”