Page 50 of Hell Raising and Other Pastimes (Grave Concerns 2)

Chapter Twelve

I couldn’t take my eyes off myself. I had never been the dressy type of girl, maybe because no one noticed me even when I tried, and yet something about my reflection in the large mirror on the wall drew me in.

I wore a black dress that fit snug at my hips but flowed looser to my ankles, giving me room to move comfortably. The top had thick straps and didn’t sit too low, so I didn’t feel like that waitress at the ballroom, the one who nearly fell out of her shirt each time she bent forward.

My hair wasn’t greasy despite not having been able to wash it, but the black of it had been lightened by the ash. It was like a natural and gross dry shampoo.

My first look at the dresses had made me want to complain, but then I’d thought…what the hell?

When was the next chance I’d get to wear something like that, where I got tobethe sort of girl who wear it?

So I’d thrown caution to the wind and tried on a few of the pieces, all of them fitting me to a suspicious degree. There was no way they hadn’t been put there specifically for me to wear.

Worse, the amount of clothing made me wonder just how long Lucifer expected me to be staying.

Instead of dwelling on that, I finished getting ready and drank more of the delicious water.

The bottles were glass, but somehow the water inside was cold despite no source of refrigeration that I could see. I had to guess it was magic, since everything else in hell had been stiflingly hot.

The room was no different, and even though it was immaculately decorated, the heat was worse than it had been farther away from the palace.

A knock on the door came, one that had me pulling away from the mirror and standing straight.

The knock came again, and I realized I’d never said to come in. Then again, I was pretty sure I was a prisoner, so I didn’t think manners counted for much. “Come in,” I called out.

The door opened, no creak to the hinges, but instead of Lucifer, it was a woman with long green hair and silver eyes. She was tall, thin and looked like lightness to the darkness of hell.

Her smile was wide and honest, and she walked around in her flowy yellow gown as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Thatwas the sort of comfort in dresses I’d always wanted and never managed.

“Ava?” she asked.

I managed to close my gaping mouth and nod.

“I’m Persephone. I told Lucifer he could handle the other guests and I would see to you. He can be dreadfully overwhelming with all that glowering he does.”

It took a moment to hear anything past her name, because the Greek mythology I had taken started repeating in my head.

“Wait, wouldn’t that make Lucifer Hades?”

She paused, her smile widening even more. “Yes. Well, sort of. Everyone gets parts of the stories wrong, or they take one tiny bit of truth and make it into a tale that becomes more fantasy than reality.”

“But those are two entirely different sets of myths.”

“And there are a hundred others, all with a speck of the truth.”

I frowned at the entirely unsatisfying answer, though I’d grown used to that. “Are you his wife, then?”

“Heavens, no. I was smitten with him—who wouldn’t be?—but I got over that. Still, because of the entire pomegranate seed thing, I spend half my time here. We all do crazy things when we’re young.” She stopped just in front of me, then looked me over head-to-toe. “I’m not a fan of such gothic looks, but I can’t deny you’ll fit right in. We haven’t had such alarge party in”—she bit her bottom lip—“years, at least. Lucifer has been in such a mood.”

She slid her arm through the crook of mine, standing taller than me by a good foot like some goddess.

Wait, she is a goddess…

The whole thing made my head spin, but I didn’t dwell. Sometimes there was too much change, too much new information, and trying to make sense of it all at once would drive a person crazy.

“What does he want with me?” I asked.

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