Page 29 of Hades

“Does he know that?”

All I can do is shrug because it seems he doesn’t. I can’t take my eyes off him. Argos pops his head up from the passenger seat before Hades is even to it. And I can’t tell which one is more excited to see the other. I’m sure if Hades had a tail, it would wag as fast as Argos’ is.

That one silly thought brings on a barrage of new questions. Is the man I’m currently ogling as he’s petting my dog really what he looks like? Or, like Cain, does he alter his appearance to exist in our world?

When Hades walks over to the motel check-in, I return to stuffing my face full of French toast. By the time he returns, I’ve finished off the entire stack, and I’m rubbing my full belly, regretting having devoured it so quickly.

“I hope no one got their fingers in your way,” he teases as he sets a key down next to me. “I got us two rooms next to each other, and I sweet-talked the owner into letting you have Argos in the room.”

“Thanks.” Grabbing my wallet, I pull out a few bills, and Hades places his hand over mine.

“It’s all set.”

“I’m not going to let you pay for my food,” I inform him as I place the money on the table.

Hades gives me a raised eyebrow and shakes his head. “You’re always so stubborn. But I paid the bill and tipped our lovely waitress before coming over here, so it’s all set,” he adds as he picks up my money and hands it back to me.

Reluctantly, I take it and place it back in my wallet. Over the last few years with Devon, I’d become accustomed to caring for myself in almost every aspect of our relationship. I can’t remember the last time someone bought me a meal.

“Thank you.” I smile before sliding out of the booth. “And I’m not stubborn, I’m independent,” I inform him as I straighten my spine, reaching my full height of five-feet-three inches. I’m still more than a full foot shorter than him, so I raise onto my tippy toes to emphasize my point.

I watch as he tightens his lips, trying to hold in a laugh. “Whatever you say. Come on, Miss Independent, it’s late.”

All I can do is give him an eye roll. But when he places his hand on my lower back to guide me to the door, I practically melt into him. The old waitress was correct—they don’t make men like him anymore.

“I need to grab some things from my Jeep,” I tell him, but we’re already heading that way. Argos jumps up as we approach and nearly leaps into Hades’ arms when I open the door. The dog is so quick to move that Hades is knocked back a few steps. “That will teach you to keep your guard up. He thinks he’s a small lap dog. Not a hundred-pound Akita mix.”

“To him, he is lap dog size. Aren’t you?” he asks Argos as he scratches his ears. “You know he’s a Hellhound, right?” Hades points out.

“So I’ve been told,” I answer as I grab my small pack from the back seat.

“Right. By the doorman,” he growls.

I can hear a twinge of jealousy in his voice, and I want to call him out. Despite what he might think, he has no right to be jealous of anyone, least of all the bouncer.

“He was just being nice,” I inform him.

“He wanted to fuck you,” Hades says matter-of-factly as he takes my backpack from my hand. “And he wasn’t in a costume, if that’s what you think. That’s what he looks like… all the time.”

My thought about Hades wagging his tail creeps back into my head. “And what about you? Are you in costume? Do you have horns and a pointy tail?” I practically yell at him, even though he’s only a few feet away.

To my astonishment, he bursts out laughing—a full-on, uncontrollable laugh. “You have me confused with the Hollywood version of the Devil, and he doesn’t exist. Well, at least not how they portray him. Come on.” He gestures as he takes a few steps toward the motel. “And for the record, Charonte demons are red with horns and pointy tails. They’ll also eat you with barbeque sauce just for fun.”

When he realizes I’m not following, he stops and turns back. I’m glaring at him with my arms crossed, tapping my foot. He eyes me up and down for a moment before marching to me.

“What?” he asks with a hint of irritation in his voice. “This is me. I don’t have horns or a tail, and I’m not some crimson demon running around. It’s just me.”

“You didn’t have to laugh at me,” I tell him, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. “This is all new to me, you know. And I’d say I’m handling it pretty well.”

He takes another step forward so we stand less than a foot apart. I look up at him, straining my neck to do so.

“I’m sorry I laughed,” he whispers as he cups my face in his hands. On reflex, I lick my lips, moistening them and willing him to kiss me. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I would never hurt you intentionally.”

I nod as much as I can while he holds me still. He slides his thumb against my lower lip, pulling it down gently. I’m not sure if he’s feeling the same need I am, but I lift onto my toes to bring my face closer to his. The invitation is clear: I want him to kiss me.

The second he glances away, I know our moment is gone, and a wave of disappointment cascades over me. I can’t help the groan of frustration that escapes me when he pulls back.

“Come on, it’s late, and you’re…” He pauses, and for a split second, a look of lustful hunger crosses his face. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, along with whatever he would say. “You’re tired,” he finishes and turns.

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