Page 50 of Hades

“Right here.” His brother stepped into the room, looking like the god he was named for in black clothing that hugged his muscular frame and with a sword held in a white-knuckle grip in his right hand.

The tight lines of his brother’s face softened as he saw Megan and Adora were fine, and then his dark eyes darted back to meet Keras’s, and he realised his brother’s sudden appearance had been because he had surprised Megan. Ares must have heard her gasp over the baby monitor.

“I can’t find Father.” Keras ran through all the places he had checked, and with each new one he added, Ares’s expression grew more grave. “You do not think… he would not be so foolish.”

Keras wanted to hear his brother agree with him on that, even when he knew Ares wouldn’t, and that Hades would be that reckless in his desire to find Persephone.

“You know he has.” Ares scrubbed a hand over his tawny hair, mussing it and causing a length of it to pull free from the thong that held it back. “Fuck. We need to gather everyone. Now.”

His brother took one look at him and his features softened, understanding flickering in his eyes.

Ares was across the room in an instant, his hand coming down gently on Keras’s shoulder and squeezing lightly through his black shirt. “You do what you need to do. I’ll gather everyone.”

The relief that surged through Keras almost brought him to his knees and while he wanted to tell Ares that he was stronger now, that he could master the darkness Hades’s disappearance had surging to the fore, he forced himself to nod instead and accept his brother’s offer.

And understanding.

It wasn’t long ago that Ares would have argued with him about what he was going to do, the centuries Keras had kept the pills and his addiction to them hidden from his brothers stoking the anger Ares felt. Anger born of the fact Keras hadn’t trusted Ares enough to tell him about them. Out of all his brothers, he was closest to Ares, and that was part of the reason Keras had felt a desperate need to keep him most of all in the dark about his addiction.

The rest was a need to appear strong—the fearless leader his brothers had needed him to be during the time they had been exiled to the mortal realm, tasked with guarding the gates to the Underworld while they awaited the threat the Moirai had foreseen.

Enyo was right about him. He was a little too much like his father. He tried to bear everything on his own, believing it to be the right thing to do and that it made him strong. He was still trying to shake that need to gain his father’s approval and live up to his role as firstborn son of Hades, but he had made some strides towards it. He had been more open with Ares, letting him in by degrees.

Ares now knew enough about his struggles not to argue whenever Keras needed a pill to take the edge off and calm the darker side of his blood.

Leaving his capable younger brother to it, Keras teleported to his bedroom in his own home.

“What is wrong?” Enyo’s soft voice curled around him, a comforting balm that eased some of his tension, enough that he didn’t stride directly to the nightstand for his pills.

He turned to face her where she stood in the doorway, her lush curves clad in her black and silver armour. The moment she caught his expression, she stopped braiding her raven hair and came to him. She wrapped her arms around him and smoothed her hand in a gentle circle across his back, caressing him through his shirt.

The urge to push her away was strong and Keras fought it, trying to tamp it down and accept her comfort instead of lashing out at her about it. Shadows seethed beneath his feet, ready to strike at her the moment he lost control of them, and darkness bloomed stronger within him as he thought about how reckless his father had been.

How Hades was now out there, unguarded.

Vulnerable.

His fangs sharpened and he gripped Enyo’s waist and pushed her back, forcing her off him. “I don’t have time for this.”

Enyo tightened her grip on him, refusing to let him go. “Whatever happened, just breathe through it. Just breathe with me, Keras.”

Her voice was black magic, smoothing the sharp edge of his temper and calming the darkness, but not enough that the urge to goad her into fighting him went away. He recalled their rooftop battle in Tokyo and heat surged through his blood, a hunger to re-enact that fight swelling inside him.

“Do not,” she whispered in his ear and stroked his nape. He silently willed her to coax the darkness, to say the words she wouldn’t say, but she was too wise, and rather than saying he would never win against her, she murmured, “I would throw the fight.”

He snarled against her shoulder, “You would not. You would lose because you are weaker than me.”

Another vain attempt to make her say she could best him so they could fight.

She sighed, the sound melodic and soft, and laced with irritation. “Just tell me what happened.”

He tried to push her off him again, but she was like a limpet, refusing to budge. He huffed, some of the darkness abating as he realised how futile it was to attempt to remove her and realised he didn’t have the heart to teleport away from her to escape her hold. He liked it here in her arms too much.

“Father has gone AWOL,” he growled.

She pulled back, a furrow in her brow. “AWOL?”

“Missing.” He had forgotten there were still many terms from his time in the mortal world that she didn’t understand. “I must find him.”

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