Page 92 of Seduced

He was still in deep waters, but it would take him less than a minute to reach the shallows. Poppy tried to calm the frenzied beating of her heart. He would soon be safe.

She was watching him row, mesmerized by the gentle sway of his long body, when a sudden movement on the other side of the cave caught her eye. She turned towards it: two men leapt from the shadows, seemingly one with the darkness. They must have come from the stairs she had just climbed down a moment or two ago, but they moved silently, hugging the rocks. Invisible. Poppy shrank further into the rock, her heart stuttering with terror.

But the men did not spare a glance to their surroundings. Their eyes were on the water, hungrily following Hades’ lone barge.

They walked purposefully up to the water’s edge, and continued, barely slowing at all as their boots splashed in the shallows. They proceeded to submerge themselves all the way up to their chins, whereupon they started swimming soundlessly towards the barge.

Poppy was close enough to hear their breaths coming short. Close enough to see the whites of their eyes glowing asthey swam, the frowns on their faces, the scars on their skins. The glistening metal of the knives clasped between their teeth as they gained on Hades’ barge.

“Hades!” Poppy screamed, and saw his hair whip around as he turned, startled by her voice.

He saw them; turned the barge around.

But it was too late, and the barge was too big to turn quickly in such a narrow space. The men with the knives had reached him in the water.

They started climbing on board.

Poppy left her hiding place and cast about for some way to help. She had no light, no weapon, and every time she took a step, she encountered a pebble or some other anomaly on the ground which sent sharp stabs of pain up her bad leg and made her stumble and nearly fall. She was useless, completely useless to help him.

“Give us the prince,” she heard a rough voice yell over the water. “Time is up, Mikailoff. Deliver the prince to us.”

She froze. The men had both climbed on the barge, crowding Hades to the edge, his back almost hanging over the water. But he appeared calm, his back straight, his voice steady and mocking as he replied:

“How much will you give me for betraying him?”

The water carried the sound perfectly to her.

Panting, Poppy turned her attention to the shore, looking for something, anything that might help her. There was nothing except for two dilapidated, tiny boats with their oars. They looked as if they were full of holes—useless. If she ran for help now, it would take her forever to limp up five flights of stairs and call for Wilder. Hades would surely be dead by the time she even reached the first floor.

“I might let you live,” one of the men replied to Hades. “You’ll be grateful to be alive, trust me, even without a finger or two. I’ll think about it.”

Poppy shuddered.

“Or an arm or two,” the man’s companion added. They chuckled.

“Have at it,” Hades replied, his voice harsh and strong. There was not a trace of fear in it, and a sudden surge of pride flooded her heart for him. She saw him stand tall and balance himself on the boat, his arms outstretched, holding two knives. Her heart gave a thud of hope. “Nicky is too good a friend to give to you to murder. Besides, he’s on his way to France by now. Good luck finding him there.”

“If you don’t tell us which way he went,” the man growled, “we won’t killyou. Your friend Wilder is next, and then one of your lovely dancers. I bet she’ll make a lovely sound as we cut off her ears one by—”

Poppy swallowed past bile.

“No need for all that,” Hades said quickly and Poppy knew his voice well enough to detect the tremor in it, although it was barely discernable. “No one else even knew of the prince’s existence in the Underworld. I took precautions. I’m afraid I am your last hope, gentlemen.”

The word ‘gentlemen’ was uttered with such contempt Poppy wouldn’t be surprised if Hades had spit it at their faces.

“Then I hope you enjoy being dismembered alive and then buried underneath your own club,” the man said.

“This is Mayfair, my good man,” Hades said lightly, almost laughing in his face. “I would not mind at all, I assure you, except, under the circumstances, one ought to be somewhat civilized, don’t you think?”

“You will surely die if this revolution starts from your club,” the man leaned in and hissed, his nose inches from Hades’. “It don’t matter how we’ll do it. If you do not deliver the prince to us, you will not survive to see the war.”

Hades’ large shoulders shrugged, casting shadows against the torch’s light.

“In that case,” he said, “you could just throw me in the lake now.”

So they did.

twenty-four

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