A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone 2)

Persephone hesitated, but descended the stairs. The woman studied Persephone as she approached, trying to place her.

“What’s your name?” she asked, eyes narrow.

“K-kora,” Persephone managed.

“You are new,” the woman said, and then she touched Persephone’s face, as if inspecting her for imperfections. “Yes, you will fetch a high price.”

“A high price?” Persephone’s brows pinched together.

“I’m assuming that’s why you were leaving. Nervous for the auction?”

Auction?

Persephone nodded.

“Do not worry, my sweet. Come.”

The Madam placed her arm through Persephone’s and led her into a parlor beneath the staircase.

Inside, there were women and men of all ages and sizes dressed in black. Persephone wondered why it was the chosen color, as they all looked like they were at a funeral.

As the Madam and Persephone entered, a man wearing a red cloth around his waist and a mask of the same color approached with a silver tray. The Madam took a glass of champagne and passed it to Persephone.

“Drink,” she said. “It will calm your nerves.”

Persephone sipped the drink—it was sweet and light.

“Mingle, chat. The bidding will begin soon.”

The Madam left and once Persephone was alone, she was approached by a woman with dark curls and long lashes. Her lips were a bright red, and her skin a rich shade of brown.

“I’ve never seen you before,” she said. “I’m Ismena.”

“Kora,” Persephone said. “Um...can you tell me what’s going on?”

Ismena laughed a little, almost like she thought Persephone was joking. “Did they just pull you off the street because you were pretty?”

Persephone’s eyes widened.

“Does that happen?”

“Never mind,” Ismena said. “It’s an auction. You’re given a number and let into a room sort of like an auditorium where you wait until your number is called. After that, you’re led onto a stage and you just...stand there until they tell you to leave.”

“And after that?”

“You’re led to the room of your bidder.”

Persephone’s stomach soured.

“How’d you get into this line of work anyway?” Ismena asked. “You don’t look prepared at all.”

Persephone sort of laughed, and offered the only thing she could, “Sometimes there aren’t any choices. What about you?”

The woman shrugged. “It’s good money, and most of the time these men aren’t even after sex. They just want conversation.”

Well that was good, because that’s all Persephone had come for—conversation and a bargain.

The woman in crimson returned and clapped her hands, drawing everyone’s attention.