Page 67 of Seph

“Dad!”

“Both of you stop! Where would she be? If Zeus let her out, and the guards can’t remember when she left, how can we find her without tipping Zeus off?”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Zag spoke up. “Vegas.”

“What? Vegas? Las Vegas?” Simeon looked at Emily in surprise. “That’s a major city, there are hundreds of thousands of people there, millions coming in and out each year!”

“A wonderful place to hide someone—especially because Mnemosyne’s devotees hold sway there. It’s a place where all time moves differently, people walk about in a haze of alcohol and bad decisions. Memories of who they should be and what they should do fade—and when they leave—they rarely speak of what happened in that wicked city. You know how they say ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas?’”

“Yeah.” Simeon nodded.

“Her high priestesses make sure that’s so. Vegas is a perfect place to hide someone who can’t remember where she is or who she is,” Hades whispered, voice thick. “I never thought of Mem. She has no reason to harm Persephone! Seph... My Seph was so kind to her! To everyone.”

“But if Zeus promised Mnemosyne that she’d be his queen one day, that they’d get back together and she would rule Olympus with him, maybe that would be enough to make her switch sides?”

“What would be thepurpose, though? Why? Why would Zeus and Mem kidnap my Seph? I stay out of Olympian dramas. I don’t have any say in who Zeus weds and beds,” Hades cried, voice raw and grating with pain and rage.

“Not always, mate. There was one time—one very important time—that you directly got involved and cock-blocked Zeus. Cock-blocked him permanently. Took the girl he was after and made her your wife.”

Emily was the one who was brave enough to say the stomach-turning truth. “Did you say you made Zeus swear on the River Styx that he would never lay an unwanted hand on Persephone?”

“Yes! And that’s an oath a god cannot break, not even Zeus, no matter what I may have done to sabotage him in the past!”

“So, in a thousand years of trying—Seph still hasn’t wanted his hands on her. But Zeus doesn’t seem like a quitter when it comes to this one area. He’s been trying to get Seph since before she married you. And if Seph can’t remember that she’s married and has to get home to her loving husband and children, he stands a better chance. It’s not like he’s sitting around idly pining, either. He has plenty of other distractions, doesn’t he? Whenever he gets bored, he can go back to his ‘project.’ Project Persephone.”

A noise that sounded like an inhuman growl rattled the tasteful art hanging in their expensive suite.

As Hades roared, Zag’s voice broke through, clamoring for action. “Let’s go! Let’s go, Dad! I’ll get Milly, you summon the hordes of the undead, and we’ll have Mom back by morning!”

“Ah ah ah! As lovely as a zombie apocalypse in Las Vegas sounds, we have to save that as a last resort,” Simeon warned.“If Mem knows she’s about to be tumbled, she could move Persephone—providing she even has her. Let us investigate first, and if you don’t hear back from us in twenty-four hours, unleash the hellhounds and whatever else you’ve got handy.”

Hades hesitated. Finally, in a grim voice that seemed to send frost spiraling into the room, he agreed. “Very well, vampire. Twenty-four hours, no more. And when you find her... tell her I’m coming to take her home.”

“Will do, Hades.” Simeon hung up and looked at Emily. “Well, well. D’you still have that little red dress, Huntress? You might need it in Sin City.”

“We’ll have to go shopping so we can blend in.” Emily smoothed a hand over her slender form, fingers lingering as she trailed down her hip. “Las Vegas, here we come.”

Chapter Nineteen

“I like this one.” Emily ran her hand down a short black dress with severe lines. It felt like something meant for her. Cold, black, hard. A human bullet, made to kill, just like her father would want.

Simeon watched her from his seat in the private dressing room at De Milo’s, a posh fashion house that was open late—as in all night.

“You look good in anything. You’ll blend right in at the slots and tables, some gorgeous young thing that makes any man feel lucky.”

She blushed. “Maybe.”He makes me feel beautiful. In anything. Not used to that. Not sure I like it.

No, I like it. I’m just not sure I should.

What’s your plan?” He came up beside her, hands on her waist, and swayed with her as she contemplated her reflection in the mirror.

Only my reflection. Not his.Her pulse began to pound, a frantic adrenaline cry of “Danger” that she hadn’t fully learned to mute around him.

“What’s wrong, Em?”

What’s wrong? I can feel his hands on me. Feel the cold air from his throat brushing my ear.

But I can’t see him. Not even a warped reflection or an outline.

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