A Touch of Ruin (Hades & Persephone 2)

“I want to party with my friend,” Hermes countered, folding his arms over his chest. “So gut me.”

She stared at him, feigning suspicion, before smiling, “Deal.”

The god gave a dazzling smile. “How’s Friday?”

“Get me into that building and I’ll check my schedule.”

He grinned. “On it, Sephy.”

Hermes teleported into the middle of the crowd and people screamed like they were dying. Hermes ate it up, signing autographs and posing for pictures, all the while, Persephone crept along the walkway and entered the Acropolis unseen. She bolted for the elevators, keeping her head down as she waited with a group of people. She knew they were staring, but it didn’t matter. She was inside, she had avoided the crowd, and now she could get to work.

When she arrived on her floor, the new receptionist, Helen, greeted her. She had replaced Valerie, who had moved up a few floors to work for Oak and Eagle Creative, Zeus’s marketing company. Helen was younger than Valerie and still in school, which mean

t she was eager to please and cheery. She was also very beautiful with eyes as blue as sapphires, cascading blond hair, and perfect pink lips. Mostly, though, she was just really nice. Persephone liked her.

“Good morning, Persephone!” she said in a sing-song voice. “I hope getting here wasn’t too difficult for you.”

“No, not difficult at all,” she managed to keep her voice even. That was probably the second worst lie she had ever told, next to the one where she promised her mother she’d stay away from Hades. “Thank you, Helen.”

“You have already received several calls this morning. If they were about a story I thought you’d be interested in, I transferred them to voicemail, but if they called to interview you, I took a message. She held up a ridiculous stack of colorful sticky notes. “Do you want any of these?”

Persephone stared at the stack of notes. “No, thank you, Helen. You really are the best.”

She grinned.

Just as Persephone started toward her desk, Helen called to her, “Oh, and before you go, Demetri has asked to see you.”

Dread grew heavy and hard in her stomach, as if someone had dropped a stone straight down her throat. She swallowed, managing to smile at the girl.

“Thank you, Helen.”

Persephone crossed the workroom floor, flanked by perfectly lined desks, stowed her things and grabbed a cup of coffee before approaching Demetri’s office. She stood in the doorway, not ready to call attention to herself. Her boss sat behind his desk looking at his tablet. Demetri was a handsome, middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a perpetual five o’clock shadow. He liked colorful clothing and patterned neckties. Today, he wore a bright red shirt and a blue bowtie with white polka dots.

A stack of newspapers lay on the desk in front of him bearing headlines like:

IS LORD HADES IN RELATIONSHIP WITH A MORTAL?

JOURNALIST CAUGHT KISSING GOD OF THE DEAD.

MORTAL WHO SLANDERED KING OF THE UNDERWORLD IN LOVE?

Demetri must have felt her staring because he finally looked up from his tablet, the article he was reading reflected off his black-framed glasses. She noted the title. It was another piece about her.

“Persephone. Please, come in. Close the door.”

That stone in her stomach was suddenly heavier. Shutting herself in Demetri’s office was like walking right back into her mother’s greenhouse—anxiety built, and she felt fear at the thought of being punished. Her skin grew hot and uncomfortable, her throat constricted, her tongue thickened...she was going to suffocate.

This is it. She thought. He is going to fire me.

She found herself frustrated that he was drawing it out. Why invite her to sit? Act like it had to be a conversation?

She took a deep breath and sat on the edge of her chair.

“What did you do?” she asked, glancing at the pile of newspapers. “Pick one up on every block?”

“Couldn’t help it,” he said, smirking. “The story was fascinating.”

Persephone glared.