Page 83 of Muzzled

Memories of the god at her side came flooding back. “You healed me.”

“No,” he replied, rising to his feet. “I gave you renewed life. The difference is subtle, but important. Especially for my followers. Atropos ensured you had a line to hold, I merely ensured you had an animated form with which to hold it. Now if we’re done, I need a drink.”

When Persephone stayed back as Dio walked out, Ryan stood up and planted himself between her and Micah. “You can go.”

The goddess took a hesitant step forward, halting when he did the same in challenge. “I was hoping I could help,” she said, tilting her chin up defiantly. “I think I may know a little more about how to make a woman who’s been unwell feel like herself again.”

He took another step toward her. “Unwell?”

Seph took a deep breath and closed in on him. “You can stand guard outside the door the whole time. I just feel the hu—Micah—may prefer a female assistant right now.”

As the muscles across his back twitched, Micah leaned forward and tugged on his tunic. “Ryan? She’s not wrong. This time.”

He held position while Persephone played with the gold tassels of her belt. “Right there,” he conceded, pointing at the door. “I’ll be right there, Seph. And if you do anything Micah doesn’t like, not even Zeus will be able to save your neck. Clear?” Seph’s eyes narrowed and she nodded, her lips pursed as he turned to Micah. “You sure? I’m more than happy to help.”

“Yes, I’m sure I don’t want you around while I shave my legs,” she huffed, dipping her fingers into the warm water. “Therearerazors here, right?”

Persephone scurried across the room. “Of course.” She held up a straight edge with a smile. “I can help if you haven’t the experience to wield this.”

His muscles tensed again and she patted his bare leg. “Ryan?” When he looked down at her, his lips drawn into a thin line, she bopped his leg with her elbow. “I promise to keep my head above water.”

He nodded slowly and bent down before he paused, straightened, and walked out. “Right here, Seph.”

Persephone waited for the door to close before she rolled her eyes and skipped to her side, placing the blade on the marble and hiking her skirts over her knees. “He’s become so difficult lately.” She sighed, lifting the tangled mess of Micah’s hair and wrinkling her nose. “There’s more blood in this than I expected.”

Peeling her filthy clothes off, she tossed them as far from the bath as she could and eased herself into the water, sinking into the perfect heat, one eye on the goddess who was flitting around, assembling an arsenal of small bottles and vases.

She soaked her hair and sat on the ledge lining the inside of the bath, reaching for a bottle of what she hoped was shampoo.

“Allow me,” Seph said, tugging the cork from the top and pouring the entire thing into her hair. “Orion may not be forthcoming about the benefits and limitations of your new reality,” she murmured quietly, scrubbing the shampoo in. “I fear he frequently operates on a need-to-know basis which isn’t always as inclusive as it perhaps should be.” Filling a vase with water, she poured it over her head. “I blame Hades for it.”

Closing her eyes to block the pink rivulets of blood-tinged water, she waited until another bottle was worked into her hair, the scent of lavender filling the air. “What kind of benefits and limitations? Can I fly now? Or at least teleport?”

“Of course you can’t fly.” Seph rinsed the second round from her hair and passed her another beautifully carved bottle. “But you have gained the virtual immortality of a deity. Incidents and accidents excluded. You’ll have the freedom to move between both worlds, though you’ll need to travel alongside a stronger line until your own establishes itself fully, which may take upward of a century.” She sat back and dipped her toes into the water. “But with Orion’s death comes yours. And vice versa.” Leaning into her line of sight, she cupped Micah’s chin. “I am truly sorry. For everything. That boy deserved better from us. From me.”

Seph sat back and resumed rinsing the soap from her hair before she dipped her leg into the water and began a very detailed lesson on the proper use of the straight razor. “With practice, you could do this for Orion.”

Wincing as she angled the blade and nicked her knee, she shook her head. “This isn’t as easy as he makes it look.”

“Nothing is as easy as he makes it look,” the goddess replied, then rose to her feet and collected the empty bottles. “It’s so simple to forget how much his stoicism hides, how much he leaves unspoken in the name of peace and propriety.”

Seph glanced toward the door, where Ryan was likely pacing. “Do not be fooled by the calm demeanor he is attempting to project right now. He is doing what he feels he must, misguided as it may be.” She set a pile of towels beside the bath’s edge and walked over to the armoire. “I’m afraid the existing selection of makeup down here isn’t quite your style, but I’m sure there are a few nymphs who can whip a little something up soon.”

She eased herself from the water, the cleansing doing as much for her mind as it did for her body. “How bad was it?” she asked quietly, glancing toward the closed door as she wrapped a towel around herself and sat, her legs still unwilling to obey. “Since that night. For him.”

Persephone held a long dress up for examination, draping it over her arm as she returned. “Orion was born and raised in hell,” she said slowly, passing the garment over. “This week he lived it.” She shook her head, the sadness in her eyes flipping off like a light switch as she smiled. “Let me show you how to wear this. And then we’ll deal with that hair.”

Chapter Thirty-Three

Ryan strained tohear the hushed conversation on the other side of the door, briefly contemplating transforming for the augmented hearing his hound form provided.

“No one laughs around Seph,” Bo muttered beside him, snagging another piece of smoked meat from the dwindling tray he’d brought back. “Maybe Micah’s brain got a little scrambled during the whole death-rebirth thing.”

“She’s perfectly fine,” he snarled, taking a deep breath to calm his fraying nerves. “Maybe Seph’s funnier around women than men.”

Shrugging, Bo swallowed a piece of cheese without chewing. “You ever see her handmaidens laugh? No. Because Seph ain’t fucking funny. We should get in there.”

He nodded, knocking on the door. “Everybody decent?”

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