“Yeah. Kinda like that.”
“Have you talked to Hades about it?”
“About what?”
She smiles, but it’s gentle. “About all the things you’resensing.”
I shake my head and force my gaze from hers. Nibbling my lip, I finally admit, “What I have with Hades is delicate. It’s new, and scary, and more than I’ve ever had with anyone else. I don’t want to scare him away.”
“You couldn’t do that.”
My reply is dry. “I bet I could.”
“I promise, you couldn’t. That—man—is…”
“What?” My breath is stuck in my chest. It is lodged somewhere between hope and fear.
“He’s very infatuated with you, Persephone. More than I’ve ever seen him with anyone else.”
I shift in my seat. “How long have you known Hades?”
“A long time.”
“How long?”
“Almost my whole life.” She wets her lips, and I catch the familiar scent of mint that always clings to Minthe.
I sigh, because even though there’s a big possibility that the next moments could go very wrong for me, I just want it all off my shoulders. The weight ofmy insanity. The very obvious fact that there is something very, very wrong with me.
I open my mouth, and confession spills even as my heart riots inside my chest. “Hades is amazing. I’ve never felt for anyone the way I feel for him. When I met him that night in the gallery, even though there was a piece of me that—I don’t want to say I was afraid, because I wasn’t.” I lift my hand to absently touch my fingertips to my chest. I feel the thundering drum of my heart beneath my touch. “But I felt—I sensed—” I groan, because this isn’t coming out right.
Minthe waits patiently.
I continue, “I felt like I could feel power emanating from him. Wild, dark, dangerous power. I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. He made me feel safe and understood. He was the first person to get a glimpse of the real me, and look at me with curiosity and acceptance, not disgust and fear. He’s patient, and kind, and I—he doesn’t deserve to fall for someone like me, Minthe.”
Concern is a fire in her eyes. “What does that mean, Persephone?”
I laugh. The sound is borderline unhinged. “Even if I could move beyond my parents and the fact that I don’t have a visa to stay here—I’m crazy. I’m legit insane—and he doesn’t deserve that.”
Minthe narrows her eyes. My heart clams up in response, cowering in shame at the look in her eyes. “What do you mean, you’re crazy?”
“I hear things that other people can’t,” I blurt, then slap my hand over my mouth.
Minthe isn’t swayed. “Like what?”
I moan, but it sounds more like a whimper. “Like a man calling my name. And, lately, I’ve been seeing things that aren’t there.” Scooting to the edge of my seat, I implore her to understand. “Minthe, there’s something wrong with me. I think—I think I need a doctor. Maybe there’s something growing in my brain and I’m dying—I—I don’t know.”
There is a moment of pause before Minthe calmly asks, “What are you seeing?”
I decide I’ve already shot myself in one foot, why not go for the gusto and take aim at the other?
I sit back in my chair, drawing my legs up and hugging my knees into my chest. It’s the only shield I have, the only defense I can muster as I murmur, “I swear I saw a mermaid—or I don’t know. I didn’t see a fin or anything, but there was a man just bobbing in the water. He was too far out to have swum, and the way he emerged and just stayed there.” I shiver. “It was eerie. Wrong. Not real.”
Minthe lifts herself onto the table in front of me, legs swinging. “What did he look like?”
“Human, but not.” I shutter my eyes, recalling the man in the water. “He had white hair that reflected like a pearl in the setting sun. His skin was so dark, midnight black, glistening wet. And his eyes—anunreal blue. Glowing like bioluminescence in the middle of a still, darkening sea.”
“Where was Hades?”