Page 50 of Chaos
I cocked one brow and looked her over. The woman just couldn’t help being the most stunning creature in every environment. She wore her long hair loose today, spilling over her shoulders in a waterfall of red, but held back from her face with a thin sparkling headband. By all accounts, her cropped white t-shirt and jeans shouldn’t have been sexy, yet they were.
Blinking rapidly, I cleared my throat and refocused on her face. “And what, pray tell, constitutesnaughtyfor a horseman?”
“Oh, you know”—she waved a hand dismissively—“plotting the demise of the free world, rigging an election, planning the next major outbreak, or whatever it is you baddies do.”
“We let the mortals make their own messes. It’s beneath us to be involved in such petty games.”
“Suuuure, Pestilence.”
The fire in this one had me reacting before I could stop myself. “Are you sassing me, hellcat?”
A smirk made her lips twitch. “Do you want me to be?”
A resounding yes was on the tip of my tongue, but it wouldn’t do either of us any good to give in to her game that easily.
“No,” I drawled, infusing the single syllable with as much boredom as I could muster.
“That bulge in your sweats says otherwise,” she said, offering me an arch look. “Really, Mal? Gray? Are you purposely trying to distract me this time?”
I glanced down at my black henley and gray joggers. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“Nothing,” she said with more than a hint of appreciation. “That’s the problem.” And with that declaration, she flounced over and flopped onto my bed.
My eye twitched as one of the pillows tumbled off the side. “Do you mind?” I muttered, stalking around the side to retrieve it and put it back in its rightful spot, taking an extra second as I did to adjust the blanket she’d also knocked askew.
My phone lit up as it buzzed next to her hip. She glanced down and tilted her head to the side as she read the name of the caller out loud.
“Hades?”
Oh fuck. That couldn’t be good. But I couldn’t exactly accept the call with an audience. Hades didn’t simply call to shoot the breeze. There was no telling what he would say.
Merri’s eyes flicked to meet mine. “Hades, Hades?”
“Yes.”
“As in the lord of the underworld? Greek god? Immortalized in one of my favorite movies of all time, Hercules?”
“Yes,” I repeated, although I had no idea what she was on about. I rarely watched films, unless, of course, they were disease disaster movies or documentaries about my work. I smirked in memory as one of my favorite scenes popped into my mind. The candy striper and the teddy bear. Classic.
“Shut up! You are friends, like calling on the phone friends and not just acquaintances with the actual lord of the underworld?”
“I wouldn’t exactly qualify it that way.”
“But you two are friends?”
I blinked at her. “Why is that surprising? You know who we are and what we do. The jobs sort of coincide.”
“Does he actually have blue hair?”
Oh, she was adorable. “No.”
Disappointment flitted across her face as her shoulders slumped. “That is incredibly disappointing. Talk about hero to zero,” she muttered.
“I don’t see why you’re so shocked by the news. You’ve seen him before.”
It was her turn to stare in confusion. “Hades? When did I meet Hades?”
“At Blackwood.”
