A Touch of Ruin (Hades x Persephone #2)(9)



The cyclops relented and did as she instructed. In the time it took them to get there, Persephone glamoured-up a pair of sunglasses and pulled her hair into a bun. It wasn’t much of a disguise, but it would get her farther than flashing her face to passerby’s.

Antoni glanced at her again and offered, “I can walk you to the door.”

“No, that’s okay, Antoni, thank you.”

The monster shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “Hades won’t like this.”

She met Antoni’s gaze in the mirror. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

“It would be best, my lady. Lord Hades would provide you with a driver to take you to work and pick you up, and an Aegeus for protection.”

She didn’t need a driver and she didn’t need a guard.

“Please?” she begged Antoni. “Don’t tell Hades.”

She needed him to understand. She would only feel like a prisoner, something she’d been trying to escape for over eighteen years.

It took the cyclops some time to cave, but eventually, he nodded. “If you wish, my lady, but the first time something goes wrong, I’m calling the boss.”

Fine. She could work with that. She patted Antoni on the shoulder. “Thank you, Antoni.”

She left the safety of the car and kept her head down as she walked in the direction of the Acropolis. The roar of the crowd amplified as she neared, and she paused when she was within view—it had grown.

“Gods,” she moaned.

“You really got yourself into a pickle,” a voice said from over her shoulder. She spun and found a handsome, blue-eyed god standing behind her.

Hermes.

Over the last few months, he had become one of her favorite gods. He was handsome, funny, and encouraging. Today, he was dressed like a mortal. Well, for the most part. He still looked unnaturally beautiful with his golden curls and glowing, bronzed skin. His outfit of choice was a pink polo and dark jeans.

“A...pickle?” she asked, confused.

“It’s an expression the mortals use when they find themselves in trouble. You haven’t heard of it?”

“No,” she answered, but that wasn’t surprising. She’s spent eighteen years in a glass prison. She hadn’t learned a lot of things. “What are you doing here?”

“Saw the news,” he said, grinning. “You and your boy-toy are official.”

Persephone glared.

“Man-toy?” he offered.

She still glared.

“Okay, fine. God-toy, then.”

She gave up and sighed, burying her face in her hands. “I’ll never be able to go anywhere again.”

“That’s not true,” Hermes said. “You just won’t be able to go anywhere without being mobbed.”

“Has anyone ever told you you’re not helpful?”

“No, not really. I mean, I am the Messenger of the Gods and all.”

“Weren’t you replaced by email?”

Hermes pouted. “Now who’s not being helpful?”

Persephone peered around the corner of the building again. She felt Hermes chin rest atop her head as he followed her gaze.

“Why don’t you just teleport inside?” he asked.

“I’m trying to maintain my mortal fa?ade, which means no magic on Earth.”

She didn’t really feel like explaining that she was training to control her magic.

“That’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t you want to walk down that enticing runway?”

“What about normal, mortal life don’t you understand?”

“All of it?”

Of course, he didn’t. Unlike her, Hermes had always existed as an Olympian. In fact, he’d begun his life the same way he lived it now—mischievously.

“Look, if you aren’t going to help—”

“Help? Are you asking?”

“Not if it means I owe you a favor,” Persephone said quickly.

Gods had everything: wealth, power, immortality—their currency was the currency favors, which were, essentially, a contract, the details to be decided at a future time, and unavoidable.

She’d rather die.

“Not a favor then,” he said. “A date.”

She offered the god an annoyed look. “Do you want Hades to gut you?”

“I want to party with my friend,” Hermes countered, folding his arms over his chest. “So gut me.”

She stared at him, feigning suspicion, before smiling, “Deal.”

The god gave a dazzling smile. “How’s Friday?”

“Get me into that building and I’ll check my schedule.”

He grinned. “On it, Sephy.”

Hermes teleported into the middle of the crowd and people screamed like they were dying. Hermes ate it up, signing autographs and posing for pictures, all the while, Persephone crept along the walkway and entered the Acropolis unseen. She bolted for the elevators, keeping her head down as she waited with a group of people. She knew they were staring, but it didn’t matter. She was inside, she had avoided the crowd, and now she could get to work.

When she arrived on her floor, the new receptionist, Helen, greeted her. She had replaced Valerie, who had moved up a few floors to work for Oak and Eagle Creative, Zeus’s marketing company. Helen was younger than Valerie and still in school, which meant she was eager to please and cheery. She was also very beautiful with eyes as blue as sapphires, cascading blond hair, and perfect pink lips. Mostly, though, she was just really nice. Persephone liked her.

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