Page 10 of The Trickster's Heart

“Aww,” Angelos grinned impishly, releasing Hercules and taking a step back. “Did you miss me that much, sweetheart? You want me to be the first thing you see in the afterlife?”

Hercules rubbed his eyes, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He stared at Angelos, looking around the cave to try and make sense of what he was seeing. Angelos leaned forward and tilted his head as he studied Hercules, and even now, Hercules’s cock twitched in response.

Angelos trailed his hand up Hercules’s abs, making him shiver as Angelos collected honey on his fingers. Hercules swallowed thickly as he watched Angelos bring his finger to his lips, sucking it off with a wet sound.

“You really are delicious,” Angelos purred.

Hercules could only grunt in response. He tried to redirect the conversation before he tackled Angelos to the ground and forgot about everything Eumolpos told him.

“Why are you here?” Hercules asked again, taking a step back to catch his breath.

Angelos’s smile grew even wider, and he spread his arms out slowly. The glow around Angelos intensified, and Hercules watched a circlet appear in his golden curls. There was a ripple of power that unleashed throughout the cave, and wings appeared on the circlet and a staff in Angelos’s hand.

It was the same person that Hercules had seen on the herm outside—no, the same god.

What the fuck was in the wine that Eumolpos gave me?

“Hermes…” Hercules choked back a gasp, frozen to the spot. “But you said…”

“Technically, I didn’t lie,” Hermes smiled, taking a step forward and bowing slightly. “My name is Hermes, Angelos Athanaton, messenger of the gods. I’m at your service, and if it wasn’t already clear, I’m very willing to hear your requests.”

Hermes winked at Hercules, and Hercules was convinced he was still hallucinating.

“I fucked a god?”

“I really do hate to interrupt with another technicality, but no, you didn’t. You came down a god’s throat, though.” Hercules was dumbstruck, but Hermes just kept talking. “What’s all this I’ve heard about you wanting to be a god? Was it that good for you? To be clear, I’m not disagreeing.”

A surge of anger and embarrassment ran through Hercules, turning his confusion into something more volatile. His face flushed. He despised the gods; it was the only reason that he was currently in the bottom of a cave, hungover on ritual wine. Now, it looked like he’d slept with one—and it had been good—and Hercules nearly boiled over.

He fought to keep his emotions under control, suddenly feeling overstimulated and anxious. His temper was close to the surface, and he wrestled with it as though it had a mind of his own. Hercules tried to push some of the hair off his forehead, letting out a frustrated grunt when he remembered he was still covered in honey.

“Fuck,” he hissed, angrily stomping a few paces away. His heartbeat was pounding in his head, and Hercules doubled-down on his own self-loathing upon the realization that he’d been fraternizing with a sworn enemy.

“Hey, hey, easy,” Hermes was suddenly right next to him. The playful smirk had disappeared, and he genuinely looked concerned at the sight of the anguish on Hercules’s face. “Let me help.” His voice was barely a whisper as he reached out, gently pulling some of Hercules’s hair off his face. Hercules went taut as a bowstring, his breath coming out through his nose in short pants. He hated when anyone saw him lose control—especially a god.

Especially Hermes.

“I’m fine,” Hercules snapped. He turned around and started toward the cavern’s exit without so much as a look over his shoulder. Hermes’s voice rang out behind him.

“You’re going the wrong way.” The singsong quality had returned to Hermes’s voice. Hercules stopped in his tracks and answered, still refusing to turn around.

“How do you know that?”

“Honestly,” Hermes’s sighed, sounding exasperated, “what did you think was going to happen down here? You got the secrets of the Underworld, so you can enter without dying, but did you think you were going to march up to the front door on your own?”

Hercules turned around slowly, realization slowly dawning on his face. Hermes had his arms crossed over his chest, smiling.

“Oh, no.” Hercules groaned, fighting the urge to bury his head in his hands until he’d had a bath.

“Oh, yes,” Hermes crooned, looking like a satisfied cat. “You wanted to go to the Underworld, and you’ve been deemed worthy, pet. Which means I’ve got to take you there.”

“This can’t be happening.” Hercules let his head drop back as he looked up at the cave’s ceiling. He should’ve realized. Eumolpos’s ritual would give him the secrets of the Underworld, but he still needed to get there. Hermes was the psychopomp of the gods.

“It’s happening, big boy,” Hermes giggled. “The road to hell and back is paved with quality time next to your favorite deity.”

“I don’t care for the gods,” Hercules snapped, turning his attention back to Hermes, who only smiled bigger in response.

“I’d be more offended but in truth, neither do I.”

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