My anxiety spikes as the sound of pointed heels on the concrete draw my attention from my insecurities to a wildly tall, wildly beautiful woman that walks confidently along the line. Her hair is a shocking fall of silver-gray, her skin a lovely, smooth shade of black that is a startling contrast to the faded gray-green shade of her eyes. She’s so beautiful, she doesn’t even feel human to me. She looks like something other. Something mythical, which is what I’m guessing she’s going for.
“Persephone!” a female voice calls from across the street, snapping my attention from the woman with the silver-gray hair to my supervisor. Beth is in her early thirties, but she’s been talking about going out all week long. She just broke up with her boyfriend, and she’s on the hunt for a good time.
She’s also determined to call me by my birth name, even though I’ve told her repeatedly to call me Annie. That’s the trouble with formal documents. Peoplehave access to your real name, and if they choose, they can use it. Beth thinks my name is too cool, considering what we do and the site we’re working on excavating, tonotcall me by my given name.
Luckily, the rest of the team calls me Annie.
I’m waving to Beth when the woman moves in front of me, cutting my view of Beth. Her unique eyes slide over me from tip to toe, and back again, before her perfect lips part. She says something I don’t understand, before following it with, “Persephone?”
I blink up at her. She emanates a kind of power I have no experience with. Her white suit is fitted to showcase the round curves and sharp lines of her lithe body. The plunge of her suit jacket is alarmingly low, and I can’t help but feel my cheeks flare with heat as I tip my head to meet her striking eyes.
“I—I don’t u-understand,” I stutter, hating that I sound so immature inherpresence. So caught up by her beauty.
Her head tips to the side only slightly, eyes studying my face as though she’s attempting to see through me. Then, perfectly spoken English sounds between us. “Your name is Persephone?”
I nod. “Um. Yeah, it is.”
I don’t think she has a Greek accent at all.
Her eyes search mine, flaring with something that strikes a chord of alarm deep within me. “These are your friends?”
“Yes,” I say as Beth arrives with her girlfriend in tow.
Gray-green sweeps over the women and she oddly says, “All such beautiful flowers.”
Claire giggles and Willa makes a noise between a laugh and incredulous offense, but, thankfully, she says nothing.
Silver, as I’m coming to call the woman, waves her hand toward the entrance. “You are all exquisite.” Her eyes never leave mine. “Please, take the VIP line inside.” She pulls a black card embellished with gold from her jacket pocket, handing it to me with silver-painted nails. “Tell the man at the door that Leuce sent you.”
My heart jolts, my love of myth colliding with my understanding of reality as I gape at her. “Your name is Leuce? Like the nymph?”
“You are knowledgeable of Greek mythology?” she purrs curiously, one silver brow cocked in interest. “Specifically, the mythology of Hades?”
“I—I love Greek mythology.”Why do I feel like I could stand here and talk to this woman all night?She intimidates me, and yet, there is a piece of her that feels somehow, bizarrely, known to me.
I’m losing the plot. Really, I am.
She smiles. Behind me, someone gasps. Her effect clearly extends to more than just me, and for that, I’m grateful. At least I’m not the only one ensnared by her unique beauty.
“Is it really so shocking that my name be Leuce when yours is Persephone?”
“It’s just—um—it’s quite a coincidence, is all.”
She gives me that delicate head dip again. “How so?”
“My name is Persephone. I’m visiting a club owned by a man whose name is allegedly Hades, and I’m meeting a woman who works for him named Leuce. Just a little bizarre, I guess.”
She smirks. “Wait until you meet Minthe.”
“Oh, now that’s just too much,” Willa says, moving closer to me.
Leuce’s smirk widens into a full-blown smile. Her unique eyes twinkle. “There is always the possibility that they’re stage names, of course.”
“That makes sense.” Willa nods, sliding her arm through mine. “I bet everyone in this club has a mythical stage name.”
I’m inclined to agree with her, because the alternative really is just too much. Still, I can’t help but ask, “And Hades?”
Leuce’s eyes flare bright. “What of Hades?”