Hot as Hades Read Online Free PDF Page B

first. That was what civilized people did, right? Before he could call himself a fool, he gave two rapid knocks to the heavy wood. It was awarded, to his surprise, by a meek, “Come in.”
    He shoved the door open and raised a brow. Had he thought the vine odd? It was nothing compared to the tropically scented paradise that had bloomed in Persephone’s room. Plants of all kinds had sprouted, seemingly from the walls and floors, wrapping around the four posts of the bed, entwining with the gas chandelier. Most were flower bearing, bringing bursts of greens and pinks and blues and yellows. The unusual rainbow profusion was a reminder of the stark colors of his world.
    In the center of this new garden sat Persephone, curled up with her back to him on the window seat, chin in her hand. Had there been a window there, she would have been gazing out of it. As it was, she was staring at a black wall, her profile in sharp relief. “Did you bring me news, Cerberus?”
    Ah. She assumed he was his manservant. That explained her relaxed posture. For the first time he wished his body, glorious as it was, was really a three-headed dog, if that put her at ease. “It is I. And yes, I have news.”
    His voice made her back stiffen—with loathing he presumed—and she straightened and half turned to look at him. He held up his hand to stop her from scrambling to stand. “Please sit.”
    She subsided back in her seat and stared at him, eyes big and haunting, so fresh and lovely it made his back teeth ache with want. Unable to speak and look at her at the same time, he focused on a point over her left shoulder. “I spoke with Zeus. He said…”
    “That he was the one who sent me here. I know.” Her tone was flat.
    His never-ending suspicion niggled. “How do you know?”
    “He came to me, was standing where you are now.”
    Hades checked the urge to move away from the spot. “He was here bodily?”
    “No. He was translucent.”
    That was something, he supposed, but if Zeus had managed to send Persephone and a shade of himself here, it wouldn’t be any great hardship to send his corporeal self here eventually. That wouldn’t be tolerated. Hades liked to limit his involvement in cosmic showdowns. Note to self: prioritize revamping security system.
    But first, he had to handle his guest. “And you know why he sent you?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’re taking the news pretty well.” There were no tears or disbelief or anger or accusations of fabrication.
    She curled her legs beneath her, her skirt making a waterfall off the seat. “Trust me, this is nothing new.”
    He took advantage of her sudden lack of hostility to probe further. “The gods often try to rape you?”
    “It’s not me they want. You see, I’m easy.”
    “I beg to differ.” If she was easy, neither of them would be clothed right now, and he’d probably be a lot happier.
    Did he imagine the twitch of her lips? “No. I mean, I may be a goddess, but I was raised by mortals, and Demeter has only had time to develop the powers of mine that are most necessary to the world and to her. The other gods know this.” She turned back to the faux window and propped her chin in her hand. A new tendril broke off from the vine nearest her head and slowly unfurled until it was long enough to drape over her shoulders, as if it were giving her a hug.
    “I see.” No wonder she couldn’t materialize clothes or escape the bonds he’d put on her. Despite her well of power, she had no idea how to manipulate it. Most gods with powers that deep were taught early on exactly what they could do with it. “What, ah…” He sidestepped a plant that was slithering toward his ankle. “What exactly are you the goddess of?”
    “Vegetation.”
    Demeter, you smart cookie. His cold and self-serving sister wasn’t the type to adopt orphans unless something was in it for her. Demeter was the goddess of the harvest, so Persephone’s untapped power would correlate and balance hers.
    “I know.