A Touch of Darkness (Hades & Persephone 1)

Zeus’s business wasn’t the only one in need of security though. New Athens News broke some difficult stories—stories that infuriated gods and mortals alike. Persephone wasn’t aware of any retaliation, but as she moved through security, she knew these mortal guards wouldn’t be able to stop an angry god from storming the sixtieth floor for revenge.

After security, she found a bank of elevators that took her up to her floor. The doors opened into to a large reception area with the words New Athens News overhead. A curved glass desk sat beneath it, and a beautiful woman with long dark curls greeted her with a smile.

“Persephone,” she said, coming around the desk. She wore a navy cargo dress with gold zippers. “It’s good to see you again.”

The girl’s name was Valerie. Persephone remembered her from her interview.

“Let me take you back. Demetri is expecting you.”

Valerie directed Persephone to the newsroom, which was beyond the glass partition. There, several metal and glass desks were arranged in perfect lines across the floor. There was a flurry of activity—phones ringing, paper shuffling, keys tapping as writers and editors pounded out their next article. The smell of coffee was strong, like the whole place ran on caffeine and ink. Persephone’s heart thudded in her chest with the thrill of it all.

“I saw you were from New Athens University,” Valerie said. “When do you graduate?”

“In six months,” Persephone chimed. She’d dreamed of the moment she’d walk across that grand stage to receive her degree. It would be the pinnacle of her time among mortals.

“You must be so excited.”

“I am,” Persephone responded

and glanced at Valerie.

“What about you?” Persephone asked. “When do you graduate?”

“In a couple years,” Valerie said.

“And how long have you been here?”

“About a year,” she said with a smile.

“Do you plan to stay when you graduate?”

“In the building, yes, just a few floors up.”

Ah, she bet Zeus’s marketing company had sourced her.

Valerie knocked on the open door of an office at the very back of the room.

“Demetri, Persephone’s here.”

“Thanks, Valerie,” Demetri said.

The girl turned to the goddess, smiled, and left, allowing room for her to enter the office. Persephone’s new boss was Demetri Aetos. He was older, but it was clear he had been a heartbreaker in his prime. His hair was short on the sides, longer on top, and flecked with grey. He wore black-framed glasses, which gave him a scholarly air. He had what Persephone would consider delicate features—thin lips and a smaller nose. He was tall, but thin. He wore a blue button-up, khaki slacks, and a polka dot bowtie.

“Persephone,” he said, coming around his desk and stretching out his hand.

She took it.

“It’s good to see you again. We are happy to have you.”

“I’m happy to be here, Mr. Aetos,” she said.

“Call me Demetri.”

“Okay…Demetri.” She couldn’t help smiling.

“Please, sit!” He indicated a chair, and she took a seat. Demetri leaned against his desk, hands in his pockets. “Tell me about yourself.”

When Persephone had first moved here, she hated this question, because there was a point when all she could talk about was her fears—closed spaces, feeling trapped, escalators. Overtime, though, she’d had enough experiences, and it had become easier to define herself by what she liked.