Page 31 of Muzzled

Bo grunted his goodbye. Ryan set his phone on the dresser, turned to Micah, and crossed his arms. “We have a problem.”

“No shit.” She laughed humorlessly, downing the last of her coffee. “You said earlier we need to talk.Youbetter start.”

He rubbed his chin and stared absently at the wall. “What you saw as a child and what you’re seeing now is something we refer to as a shade, the spirit of someone who has passed away and now exists solely in the underworld.”

“So, a poltergeist,” she stated, topping up her coffee.

“Not exactly,” he said slowly, part of him waiting for her to freak out or laugh. “Shades have no thought or intention. Or, they shouldn’t. They merely are, if that makes sense. They’re the essence of the dead, without body or motive or the ability to conceptualize. What we’re dealing with here is unprecedented, having one that’s not only topside, but apparently moving with purpose.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Topside.”

Adjusting the sleeves of his shirt, he exhaled loudly. “You’ve heard of Hades and the underworld? Maybe learned about it at school?”

Nodding, she crossed her legs. “The whole Olympians and pantheons, gods and goddesses stuff, right? I have some basic ninth-grade knowledge.”

“Good enough. That’s the realm we’re dealing with here.”

Scoffing, she sat back and tilted her head. “Are we now?”

His pacing began again as he formulated his thoughts. “My boss is Hades. He runs the underworld and has since, well, forever. Every believer in the Pantheon who has passed has been transported into his realm and now exists in an abyss alongside the other shades.”

“Your boss is a Greek god.”

He stopped walking and lolled his head, gripping the back of his neck. “I know precisely how this sounds to you. If you could keep the disbelieving commentary to a minimum while I explain everything, it would be very, very helpful.”

She pursed her lips and nodded, glancing toward the closed curtains before returning her attention to him while he paced the room like a caged lion.

“I’ll give the point form explanation for now and open the floor to questions later, okay?” he grumbled, not waiting on a reply. “Hades has a guard dog on site named Cerberus who does his dirty work for him—keeping the wrong souls out, bringing the right ones back, and holding his enemies in check. Now, a few thousand years ago, Hades’s wife, Persephone, was kidnapped by a guy, Pirithous. She was returned pretty quickly, completely unharmed, but Hades cursed the bloodline of the guy in retaliation anyway. It was a standard hex, ensuring the Pirithous line would only produce male heirs, so they could be hunted until the bloodline was eliminated from the earth. That kind of thing.”

He looked over to find her watching him with an expression of reluctant belief. “Keep in mind the human population was much smaller and more concentrated back then. At the time, the curse was pretty limited to a small region and a single-family line. But Hades got distracted with a few power struggles and marriage negotiations, so he didn’t send his guard dog out until eight centuries ago, when he finally had time to ensure his curse was carried out.”

She opened her mouth to speak, then snapped it shut when he met her gaze.

“Just please hear me out,” he pled. “Eliminating the Pirithous line is where I come in. My brothers, too.” He crouched beside the stack of canvases, setting aside the ones he wanted and spreading them across the bed. “That’s Hades and Seph. Persephone. And not a general representation of them, either. That image is from around two thousand years ago. Seph had just returned from her mother’s with that gown and was so excited to show it off at a banquet Hestia was throwing in her honor.” A smile crossed his face briefly before he frowned, cleared his throat, and pointed at another painting. “That’s the River Styx. Old man Charon’s boat is easily identified by the curve of the bow. See the stone behind it?” He picked up the piece and set it on her lap. “Those scratch marks there were done by my brother Bo when he was a pup.”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous,” she huffed, shoving the painting back into his hands. “I’m going. When you want to tell me what’s actually going on, call me.”

He snatched another work from the bed. “I’m assigned to watch over Seph when she’s at her mother’s, to ensure she’s safe and happy until she can come home. This picture is directly from my head, from my memories.”

Slinging her purse over her shoulder, she backed toward the door.

Desperation coursed through him and he grabbed the dark piece he’d inspired. “And this is me. This…this hasn’t happened. Yet. I—”

She shook her head, her hand reaching back to grab the doorknob. “You aren’t a dog, Ryan. You’re scaring the hell out of me right now.”

As she turned the knob, he dropped the art. “I can prove it. I can prove everything if you’ll give me a minute.”

Opening the door a fraction, she peeked into the empty hallway and let the door close on her foot, keeping it ajar. “One minute,” she acquiesced. “One minute, but if you make any move toward me, I’ll scream.”

“You’re going to scream anyway,” he muttered, pacing the back wall. “I’m going to need to strip down fir—”

“You most certainly are not!” she exclaimed, opening the door farther.

He stopped and stared at the floor for a moment. “Look inside the bathroom. Is there anything in there at all?”

Stretching her arm out, she nudged the bathroom door open and looked around. “No.”

“I’ll go in there and do it. Just don’t leave until I prove it, okay?”

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