Page 25 of Hades and Persephone: Keeper of Sins

Hades cocks his head, eyes darkening as I wet my lips. “Of course, I did.”

He tosses a big hand toward the dogs. “Them.”

My brows inch together. “What?”

“The pressing thing I had to see to was them. My dogs.”

“Oh.” My eyes slide to the big pups, and I give them a soft smile. Living on a farm my whole life, we’d had dogs. Plenty of dogs. But I’d lost my most favorite less than six months ago to old age, and the pain of that loss still hurts. “Where were they?”

“At my other home.”

My furrowed brows inch high. “You have another home?”

Hades nods. “I do.”

“Wow.” I slice the cut chicken from the cuttingboard into a pan. With a new board, I begin chopping the broccoli. “What does a man need two homes for?”

“My other home is my true home,” he says. “This home is simply convenient.”

I snort. “Feels more like paradise to me.”

“Does it?”

I glance around at the opulence. “I mean, yeah.”

“This is what you want, Persephone? What your soul craves?” He raises a single brow. “Is that what you’re telling me?”

His mention of my soul stirs something inside of me. It’s the same something that stirs when I hear that voice that calls my name, with all its rage and anguish. My tongue feels dry. “I’m not sure what you’re asking, Hades.”

“If you could, would you choose to live here for the rest of your life?”

There’s something intense about his expression that I can’t quite put my finger on. I feel, oddly, like this is a test. Still, I don’t want to offend him when it comes to the place he’s obviously chosen to live, even if he has another home elsewhere that he prefers more.

I begin cautiously. “I don’t know that I would refuse it, if it was offered to me. But if I could choose anything at all—then, no, this wouldn’t be it.”

“If you could choose anything at all, what would it be?”

My lips part and close and part again. “I—I don’t know.”

I don’t know why this question feels so intimate. It’s a basic question that anyone could ask, and yet it feels—like a lot.

“Persephone,” Hades calls, and I see that he’s moved closer when I peek from the cut broccoli to him. “Please, tell me.”

“I don’t know that I would choose to be so close to the sky. It feels—I feel a little out of place. Itchy in my own skin, I think. Even though it’s very beautiful here. The view.” The words come out of nowhere. Until this very moment, I hadn’t even realized I felt this way. But with the words between us, I can’t deny the truth of them. “And it’s very modern. I feel it’s lacking, well, life.”

When I dare to look at him, I find it odd that he looks almost pleased.

The man is peculiar.

Chapter

Fourteen

Hades

Persephone wasn’t lyingwhen she said she could cook. She also wasn’t lying when she said she enjoys cooking. It’s clear she’s comfortable in the kitchen, and to my relief, she mostly uses natural ingredients. Having lived for millennia, I can attest to the fact that life for humanity has become exponentially easier, and exponentially lazier. For the most part, I very much dislike the food in the middle realm. It’s filled with chemicals intended to preserve the food, while killing the consumer. The number of souls I’ve condemned to Tartarus that work in the food business, knowinglypoisoning innocent consumers for riches, is ever-growing and despicable.

Swallowing another dill and lemon seasoned potato, I allow my eyes to slide back to her. I’ve come to notice that she grows uncomfortable if I allow my gaze to linger on her for lengthy times, and expend conscious effort to keep from drinking in every part of her, every moment she spends with me. If I looked at only her for the rest of my eternity, I can’t say I would not be blessed.

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