Page 10 of Wildfire

Wilder sat a little straighter in his chair and nodded again. “I knew if anyone around here would understand, it would be you, Ward.”

Ward smiled at him, looking confused and pleased and altogetherWard, and they went back to work.

Something Wicked

Hermes liked the underworld. Most gods got the heebie-jeebies every time they crossed the Styx, but misfits were welcome down below, and Hermes had always fancied himself one of those.

Hell, it was even nice to go somewhere below ground where he knew his father couldn’t watch him and scowl over what an epic fucking disappointment he’d turned out to be.

Charon dropped him off at the Crystal Palace—the tracks ended right under Hades’s home, in a cellar where they kept their stores. From down here, there was no way to tell how magnificent the palace was. The underworld held more riches than the world above, and Hades’s palace rose in glittering crystal spires that reflected the ambient light that lit the dark.

Down here, there was just the Styx, the stores, and flickering candles that never went out. But when Hermes rushed up the stairs and into the imposing onyx throne room, he was shocked to find that Hades was not alone.

Coming to an abrupt stop in front of the dais, Hermes crossed his arms and cocked a brow up at the king and queen of the underworld.

“It’s spring,” he said bluntly. “Aren’t you supposed to be—?” He jerked his fingers up. Deal was, if Persephone went topside for spring and summer, Demeter would allow the harvest to grow. Of course, that spring had started out a little wan, but as far as he knew, the deal was still in place.

With pursed lips and a furrow to her brow, Persephone turned on him. “Gaia is taking care of that, now,” she informed him, more clipped and impatient than he’d ever heard her before. “The world can spare me for a little while.”

It was spring. Things were growing up above. And Persephone was in the underworld.

Even more troubling, Hades didn’t look at all pleased with the current arrangement. It was rare, to see the god’s scowl so heavy when his wife was at his side.

“Something’s wrong.” Hermes narrowed his eyes up at them, as if just by looking, he could discern what had twisted them up like this. “Show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

Hades’s dark brows shot right up into his hairline. “Excuse me?”

Hermes had to bite the sides of his tongue to hold back his snickering as he approached the dais to stand right at the base, not half brave enough to mount it. “Your problem, Hades. I need your help, so maybe we can help each other.”

Persephone frowned. Her lithe arms crossed over her chest. Up above, it was easy to forget that his cousin with all her flowers and her sunshine smile was goddess of the underworld. She oversaw punishments in Tartarus. She was, in short, damn terrifying.

“Doubtful,” she snapped. “There’s been a breakout in Tartarus. We’re still taking an accounting.”

Clearing his throat, Hermes rubbed the back of his wrist over his nose. “Wouldn’t know anything about that.”

If Hades had been any less patient a god, he’d have rolled his eyes. “Oh, clearly.”

In truth, it’d only been a handful of months since Hermes had helped Prometheus escape from his chains in Tartarus. He’d been trying to outrun his father’s wrath, to give Zeus another target to throw his thunderbolts at. It hadn’t gone precisely his way, but Hermes wasn’t sure things everreallywent precisely anybody’s way. The trick was just to be quick on your feet and get out of the danger zone before the world came crashing down on you.

With a sigh, Hades stepped down from the thrones and put himself on level with Hermes. His uncle still towered over him, but he looked sunken and tired and not at all the fearsome god that mortals had once taken him for.

“What is it that you want, Hermes?”

Hermes’s quick eyes darted behind him. Persephone looked like she wanted nothing so much as to toss him out and lock down the underworld, but even when she wanted to withdraw from the world, she’d never been the kind of goddess to turn her back when people were in trouble.

He dragged his gaze back to his uncle. His lips twitched up on one side and he shrugged. “Souls are going missing. Three in two weeks—two today alone. They die, I feel the pull of it, but by the time I get there, their souls are gone. They’re dying young, nothing wrong with them that I can tell just by looking, and nobody else has taken them. They’re just gone, like they were never there at all. Except they leave behind a perfect, empty meat suit.”

Hades stared at him for the space of a few breaths. A few mortal souls getting lost on the way to his realm was nothing next to a breakout from Tartarus—no, that would throw the underworld into chaos. Letting a soft puppy of a god like Prometheus out into the world had caused enough trouble, but there weren’t many immortals trapped in the pits that were that harmless.

And even one eager-to-please titan had caused millions of dollars of damage to the area surrounding the New York vampires’ Hunt Building when the twins, Artemis and Apollo, had hunted him down to return him to his punishment.

Finally, Hades let out a long sigh. “I’ll call you if I hear anything, and you are welcome to consult with Minos and the list of the dead—see if any of the missing souls have made it here without your aid. But we must see to matters in Tartarus. If we are lucky, it’s—”

Hades shook his head. Hermes had never had to fight the titans. If one had escaped—or, fuck, more—he wanted no part of it.

“Aye, aye, cap.” He gave his uncle a mock salute and clicked his heels together, but his stomach sank as he watched Hades return to Persephone, settle his hand on the small of her back, and lead her away.

Two of the most formidable gods in the pantheon, and they were terrified.

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