“Hello, my darling pixie,” Hades said, but the man before Pandora wasn’t him. At least not in appearance.      

Black and white hair had turned rain cloud purple, falling into unfamiliar heterochromia irises. One glowed electric blue, and the other sparkled emerald green. There were pupils in the irises, too. His sharply angled features reminded her of someone she’d forgotten. Leather gear covered his tanned, muscular form, but stark ebony tattoos peeked from under the hemlines.      

A devious smirk curved the corner of his mouth. His eyes tracked every flicker of uncertainty across her face, drinking it in. That unfamiliar gaze sent heat crawling up her neck.  

Run. I dare you  

She wouldn’t flee.   

The moment shattered into motion. Twin daggers materialized in her hands, and she drove forward. His cockiness rendered him careless, and she slipped through his defenses before he realized his mistake. Her blade aimed for his neck.     

Then he caught her.      

His fingers closed around her wrists like forged steel, locking her in place. Fire licked over her flesh where he touched her, but it wasn’t the pain that broke her focus.     

It was his scent.      

Asphodel blooms and cypress. The perfume of the dead.        

Home.     

“Who are you?” She choked out and tried to pull free. His grip tightened, and he tugged her to him. “Why do you sound like him? Smell of him?”      

“You know who I am,” he whispered as his breath brushed the shell of her ear. Gooseflesh exploded over her body, and her stomach clenched with confused excitement. “Close your eyes, darling. I’ll show you.”      

For him, she would obey.      

Her eyelids drifted shut.     

He released her wrists, only to bury his hands in her tresses and draw her closer. The instant his lips met hers, something dormant stirred to life. Twenty years of longing, grief, and empty dreams shattered under the warmth of him.     

After two decades, she was alive.     

And it scared her.     

She relied on the cold numbness to keep her moving. The less she thought of him, the easier it was to pretend. If her mind were playing tricks on her, she would shatter, and nobody could piece her together again.       

Their unsteady breaths heaved in unison when he broke their connection. Before she managed to peek, his calloused palm blocked her vision. He tutted when she struggled and gave her hair a playful warning tug. Heat pooled in her lower abdomen.    

“This must remain our secret. Here, I cease to be him. Do you understand?”     

“Yes,” she said. Her chest rose in sharp bursts as adrenaline and lust coursed through her.      

“I couldn’t stay away from you.” His forehead pressed to hers. “Meet me at Sinner’s Club in a week. We’ll discuss more.”     

With a fleeting kiss, he vanished.      

She stumbled and held onto the wall to steady herself. Her lips tingled, and her body trembled as she lowered herself to the ground. A sob tore from her as the scar on her sternum blazed with unimaginable pain. He’d been gone for so long.   

“Why now?” she cried, clutching her chest.      

Was this agony worth loving Hades?     

Always.      

She’d endure a thousand heartbreaks if it meant he was hers.       

***      

Hades reemerged in his office. How could he be so reckless? He would do it again. For Pandora, he’d gladly watch the world burn by supplying the torches. That didn’t excuse him from the fear of being discovered, despite his well-crafted disguise.      

He dragged the zipper down his leather top, and the material rippled into his usual button-down. A flick of his cuffs summoned a suit jacket that settled neatly across his shoulders. When he reached his desk, his training pants melted into tailored slacks, and his worn boots became polished dress shoes. He dropped onto his office chair and brushed his white hair out of his face.      

Abrupt knocks sounded, turning his attention to the door. “Come in.”      

Typhon stepped through the threshold. A scowl darkened his rugged features. He hated wearing his human facade, but it was part of the deal they’d struck after his capture. Hades preferred the tamed version of the monster, even if it made him a grumpy asshole.      

“I have had no luck locating the missing titans. It’s impossible to know what snuck into Tartarus while you were daydreaming,” he reported as he dropped into the chair opposite Hades. He tossed a folder in front of Hades. “I found this, though.”     

“We’ll call it that,” Hades deadpanned as he steepled his hands beneath his chin. “Two behemoths sauntered off, and the Father of Monsters saw nothing? Do you think me naïve?”     

“Am I stupid enough to lie to you? You own the keys to my shackles.” Typhon kicked his feet atop Hades’ workspace and leveled him with a bored stare. “Focus on their stagnation, not their escape.”             

“I must worry about both.” Hades leaned forward and shoved the monster’s boots off the polished wood. He tidied his scattered documents. “Leave me.”     

Typhon stood, saluted, and departed. At least he could take directions. Once departed, Hades sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He glanced through the file, and his stomach churned uncomfortably. Before he could second-guess himself, he grabbed the envelope and re-materialized in Olympus.      

The golden gates greeted him, and twin sentinels guarded either side. They were a pair of Zeus’ many Champions. Pretty faces that were always reminiscent of the King of Gods. Blond, tan, and muscular. When they spotted him, their complexions turned ashen. As if  they’d seen a ghost.      

“Let me through,” he demanded as he ascended the stairs. The men sputtered, unable to free the lock. Hades bent close to one of them and whisper-shouted, “Boo!” into his ear.      

“Ahhh!” they screamed, and the duo fled through the gate. They disappeared in a puff of smoke. It was typical for Zeus to hire cowards, but this was a new low. He sauntered through the opening and headed toward his brother’s chambers.      

Marble pavers, veined with gold, led throughout the open courtyard, branching off towards different deities’ realms and other parts of Olympus. To Hades’ right side, a grand amphitheater appeared. Lavish parties and memorable ceremonies took place within. Not that he was ever invited. To his left was a pond that stretched beyond his line of sight. Mermaids and water nymphs frolicked along the shore. They scattered when they spotted him walking, and he scowled at them. High-pitched screeches and urgent splashes followed his glare.    

It took ten minutes to reach Zeus’s study. Hades used to pop into most of Olympus. Then he lost his temper, and Zeus revoked the privilege. The massive doors stood open, revealing the grandeur inside. Rows of bookshelves filled the room, reaching three stories high, and ladders glided along the smooth flooring. Books floated around as near-invisible pixies and brownies reorganized.      

Zeus lounged on a settee, taking deep drags from a silver pipe. Smoke swirled above him, and his head lolled. A duo of women fawned over him, their purple and crimson skin stark against his tanned complexion. Hera must be in the Upperworld. Hades observed them until Zeus’ unfocused gaze met his.    

“My brother!” Zeus boomed, and he spread his arms wide in greeting. His ladies recoiled and pouted that they had lost his attention. “It has been far too long!”      

No, it hadn’t. Hades would happily live forever without seeing him. He plastered on a warm smile and returned the hello. “Zeus, how have you been?”      

Now animated, Zeus launched into a long-winded retelling of the past and the mortals he spared from death. As though the universe were his plaything. Zeus granted the pardons, and Hades inherited the complications that followed. It was always his job to clean up his brother’s messes.  

The story descended into a jumbled mess as the ambrosia-laced opium worked through Zeus’ system. Hades bit his tongue, and the sharp tang of blood offered him something to focus on. Zeus offered him the pipe, but he declined. He had no use for it. No desire to be like him. With a shrug, Zeus placed the bit in his mouth. He inhaled deeply.   

The King of the Gods never tires of his appetites, Hades thought as Zeus exhaled the plume of smoke. He wore his arrogance as comfortably as a crown.  

“What brings you here?” He asked when their conversation became stagnant. “You aren’t here to catch up. That much I know.”      

How astute. Hades stopped himself before he rolled his eyes and grimaced. “You’re correct. I am here to submit a grievance.”        

Shock widened Zeus’ expression. “Against whom? You scarcely interact with anyone.”      

Hades tossed the file onto his lap and locked gazes with him. “This is not the only copy. Do the right thing. Things will escalate. To the Council.”     

“Don’t threaten me, Hades,” he warned. He flipped through it, and his irritation morphed into disbelief. The papers fluttered to the floor in a scattered mess. A picture of Demeter stared at the ceiling. “There’s no way. You can’t actually believe this bullshit?”      

“I was there, brother. I may not fully comprehend what led her to do it, but I’m certain she’s guilty.” He tapped the image. “She drugged me with Slumber Sand and hoped I died. It took twenty years to find this. Now, the evidence is all here.”     

“What would you have me do?”         

“The punishment for killing another god is death. Attempted murder should hold weight, too.” He studied Demeter’s visage, and blue flames pumped through his blood. She would pay. “I will see her punished because she isn’t working alone.”     

***     

Persephone lounged on the poolside recliner and soaked up the last rays of the sun before it dipped beneath the horizon. Chlorine and the blooming garden combined to create the complex aroma of the end of summer. She had three weeks, four days, and six hours left before she returned to the Underworld. She’d make each moment count.    

A portal opened, disturbing her leisure time. She sat up to see twelve of Zeus’ Champions stepping through the shimmering mass. Zeus followed. A stern look clouded his usually welcoming countenance. When he caught sight of her, his frown deepened.      

“Where is your mother?” he demanded.      

“Inside. I’ll go get her.” Persephone hopped off the chair and bolted into the cottage before he could disagree. Demeter sat at the kitchen island and stared out the window that overlooked Zeus’s arrival. Her bronze skin had blanched, her pupils were wide, and her hands trembled. “Mama?”      

“I tried, my love. Truly, I did.” Demeter rose from her seat and gathered Persephone into a shaky hug. “I want you to understand that I don’t regret a thing.”     

“What did you do?”      

“What I had to.” She cupped her daughter’s cheek and placed a lingering kiss on her forehead. “He’s going to make everything right.”      

“Who?”      

Demeter didn’t answer.      

She strode out the back door and allowed Zeus’s Champions to place her in power-blocking cuffs. They guided her through the portal. Their grips were brutal and sank into her arms as they disappeared. Zeus lingered, his brows drawn tight, and fists clenched at his sides.     

“What’s happening?” she asked from the doorway.      

Zeus dipped his head in defeat and breathed out a heavy sigh. “Demeter is going on trial for the attempted murder of another god.”     

“No,” she said. The air left her lungs, and she gasped for breath.      

Black dahlias bloomed in her hair. Dense, ink-dark petals of betrayal. Threaded through them, orange lilies flickered. Bright and wrong, akin to her denial. Needle-sharp thorns dug into her scalp, and her vision flooded with tears. She couldn’t stop them from falling, and they scorched a path down her cheeks.      

“I’m sorry, Persephone.” He reached out to her, but she pulled away.   

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed before stalking into the house.   

Editor: Lucy Cafiero