Page 81 of Hades and Persephone: Threads of Fate

Beside me, Addison breathes, “Shit.”

I’m not sure if he’s referencing the sex appeal the woman emanates or the fact she’s here in the dead dark of the night, creeping up on us like this.

The woman’s familiar warm brown eyes land on me. Unlike all the times I’ve seen her before, they are winged in black liner. Her wheat-colored hair is pulled into a high, tight ponytail. Her lips are painted an earthy nude, her long nails polished in the same shade. She’s stunning, and that’s not taking into account the off-white pantsuit she wears.

Who wears a white pantsuit to a dig site?

“I thought my spies were mistaking when they told me there was a girl called Persephone working the Eleusis site.” Her hands land on her hips, spreading the white jacket she wears, that plunges down to her navel. Under it, she wears only a lace bra, again in white. “Imagine my surprise when I learned you’ve been here for months.”

I don’t know what to say. A cool sweat has broken out over my skin. My mind feels fractured between this reality and another I’ve only ever dreamed of. Because the last time I saw this woman was in my nightmare—while she drowned me.

The woman continues to speak. Disgust curls her lip. “Why would someone with the name Persephone—a name for a Goddess—go by the mundane name of Annie?”

“Annie is a nice name,” Addison defends me, moving closer to where I stand. I can feel the warmth of his body through the clothes I wear.

The woman’s eyes cut to Addison. She scans him from tip to toe, then breathes, “You.”

“Me,” Addison says, but I don’t think he knows who he’s engaged with. I’m not sure I know. I can’t know.

She can’t be Demeter. She can’t be the Goddess of Agriculture, Persephone’s mother.

The Gods aren’t real.

I drop my head into my hands, rubbing my faceroughly. I mutter, “This isn’t real. I’m seeing things. None of this is real.”

“Hey.” Addison touches his palm to my back.

Dry earth crunches under heels. There is dangerous laughter in the woman’s voice as she coos, “This is very real, I assure you, Persephone.”

I’m still shaking my head. Still denying the reality before me. “No.”

“What’s going on?” Fear edges Addison’s voice now. He’s picking up on my panic. Or maybe he can sense the terror this woman is capable of. This Goddess—figment of myth and legend that is clearly more than a story.

“I really shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.” A shrill chime rings like an alarm in her laugh. “Aphrodite will rejoice when she learns that still, after all this time, you chase a love that will never be yours.”

“Aphrodite?” Pebbles rise on Addison’s skin at the name. His neck bobs on a nervous swallow.

The woman smiles a beautiful smile. I know it’s beautiful, but I can’t help but see beneath it to the ugly she holds in the core of her. The ugly she hides.

“Oh, yes.” Her eyes sweep over Addison again. “There’s nothing like the curse of a jealous Goddess, now, is there?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Addison looks to me, eyes wide. “We need to leave.”

I nod. Slipping my hand into his, I start to move away—to flee—but her voicehalts my movement with a single command. It’s as though centuries of dormant obedience simply rise. The same need that pulled me from my bed to this place holds me prisoner now.

I need to be here. To please her.

“Annie.” Addison tugs my hand. “Come on.”

I can’t move. My heart drums a frantic beat in my chest. There is a whir in my ears.

She moves closer, as though she has all the time in the world. Like she is a predator hunting her prey. I can’t move, even as I tremble.

Addison stops tugging on my hand to stand in solidarity with me.

She lifts her hand and touches my face, cradling my cheek. “So beautiful.” Her eyes drift over my face. “I’ve not once, in all the years I’ve lived without you, forgotten your face. My lovely daughter.”

I don’t lean into her touch as I had in my nightmare, seeking comfort that wouldn’t come. I tremble in it. Terror coats my tongue and dries my throat. My heart is a frantic drum in my chest, the terror acrid as it spills with every shallow breath I dare breathe.

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