A Touch of Darkness (Hades & Persephone, #1)

by Scarlett St. Clair

The narcissus was the flower and symbol of Hades, the God of the Dead. They did not often decorate tables, but coffins. Their presence at the Coffee House probably meant the owner was in mourning, which was really the only time mortals worshipped the God of the Underworld.

She’d ordered her usual vanilla latte

Her internship was located on the sixtieth floor of the Acropolis, a landmark in New Athens as it was the tallest building in the city at 101 floors.

Persephone was drawn to Lexa’s edginess—she had tattoos, hair as black as night, and a love of the Goddess of Witchcraft, Hecate.

I am celebrating, Persephone texted. With a vanilla latte. Not with coffee. Alcohol. Shots. You + Me. Tonight.

Persephone liked organization, but more than that, she liked being busy. Her weeks were packed—school on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and up to three hours each day at her internship. The more she did, the more excuses she had for not returning home to see her mother in Olympia.

They would have a new god to learn and to scrutinize. She wouldn’t be able to exist—she would lose the freedom she had just gained, and she wasn’t interested in that.

She found it interesting that he was so elusive and the bets he made with mortals completely appalling. The God of the Dead represented everything she wasn’t—something dark and tempting.

The girl cleared her throat and didn’t meet Persephone’s gaze. “If your mother discovers I lied, she’ll kill me.” “Who do you fear most?” Persephone had learned long ago that words were her most powerful weapon.

Nevernight was a slender obsidian pyramid with no windows, taller than the bright buildings around it,

Lexa placed her hands on Persephone’s shoulders and looked her in the eyes. “Persephone. Don’t get me wrong, you’re hot and all, but…what are the actual odds you’ll catch Hades’s attention? This place is packed.”

Persephone doubted Hades had taken a vow of chastity like Artemis and Athena, and yet he managed to stay out of the public eye. She sort of admired that about him.

“I can give you the password.” “How did you get the password?” The woman shrugged. “Here and there.” She paused. “So?” Persephone couldn’t deny she was curious. This was the thrill she’d been seeking—the adventure she craved. “Tell me.” The woman chuckled, her eyes glittering in a way that made Persephone wary. “Pathos.” Tragedy. Persephone found that horribly ominous.

Slowly, she drew in air and, with it, the smell of him—smoke and spice and winter air.

After last night, she wanted things she had never wanted before. Soon, her anxiety was replaced with a fire so unfamiliar and intense, she thought she might turn to ash.

He smiled. “What about you—your hobbies, interests…?” “Oh.” She blushed and thought for a moment. “I like baking. It helps me relax.” “Oh? Tell me more. What do you like to bake?” “Anything, really. I’ve been challenging myself at sugar cookie art.” His brows rose and his smile stayed. “Sugar cookie art, huh? That’s a thing?” “Yes, I’ll show you.”

“They say Hades is protective of his realm, and while that is true, it isn’t about power. He cares for his people, protects them, and he takes it personally if anyone is harmed. If you belong to him, he will tear the world apart to save you.”

In the distance, an obsidian palace jutted against the sky, beautiful but ominous, like clouds full of lightning and thunder.

The sky here was vast and alight, but she couldn’t spot a sun, and the air was neither warm nor cold, though the breeze that moved the grass and her hair made her shiver. It also carried a mix of scents—sweet florals, spice, and ash.

That was how Hades smelled too.

I’m going to die in the Underworld. But then one of the dead let go to attack the others, and the rest followed soon after. Persephone took her chance and swam as fast as she could. She was weak and tired, but she could see Hades’s strange sky brightening the surface of the river above, and the freedom and air it promised motivated her.

A man’s face loomed over hers. He reminded her of sunshine with his golden curls and bronzed skin, but it was his eyes she liked the most. They were gold and brimming with curiosity. “You’re a god,” she said, surprised. He smiled, showing a set of dimples on either side of his face. “I am.” “You’re not Hades.” “No.” He looked amused. “I am Hermes.”

“It is my pleasure,” he said, still watching her. “Shall I guess who you are?” “Oh yes. Entertain yourself,” she said. Hermes looked serious for a moment and tapped his full lips with his finger. “Hmm. I think you are the Goddess of Sexual Frustration.” Persephone barked laughter. “I think that’s Aphrodite.” “Did I say sexual frustration? I meant Hades’s sexual frustration.”

“Are you well?” Hades asked.

She wished he would have told her there were no lovers, but instead he frowned and said, “It’s either this or nothing at all, Persephone.” “You wouldn’t.” “What? Undress you? Happily, and with far more enthusiasm than you realize, my lady.”

“You have a choice,” he said. “But if you choose him, I will fetch you, and I might not let you leave the Underworld.” Her eyes flew open, and she glared at him. “You wouldn’t,” she said between her teeth. Hades chuckled, leaning in so that when he spoke, his breath caressed her lips. “Oh, darling. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“We were making plans for today and just…kept talking,” Lexa continued. “He’s so interesting.” “He’s interesting?” Persephone laughed. “You’re interesting. Fashionista. Witch. Tattoos. What more could a guy want?”

“I can’t imagine what that’s like,” Lexa said absently. “To exist in the world without really knowing who you are.”

“Do not draw water from the Lethe,” the goddess added. Despite the command, her voice was warm. She had long black hair, half of it pulled back, and the rest fell over her shoulders, past her waist. She dressed in ancient clothing—a crimson peplos and a black cloak. A set of short, black horns protruded from her temples, and she wore a gold crown. She had beautiful but stern features—arched brows accentuating almond-shaped eyes set in a square face. Behind her, the three Dobermans sat, tails wagging. “You’re a goddess,” Persephone said, getting to her feet, and the woman smiled. “Hecate,” she said and bowed her head.

Hecate explained. “The Lethe will steal your memories. Hades should have told you that. I will scold him later.” Persephone laughed at the thought of Hecate scolding Hades. “Can I watch?” “Oh, I would only think to reprimand him in front of you, my dear.”

“Tell me, what are these plants?” “That one is anemone.” Persephone found herself blushing. “Hades wore one in his suit the night I met him.”

“Addiction is a disease. It cannot be cured. It must be managed.”

“Life is hard out there, Hades, and sometimes living it is penance enough. Mortals need hope, not threats of punishment.”

“Tell me of your wife.” She ignored Hades’s gaze and focused on Orpheus. “What was her name?” “Eurydice. She died a day after we were married.” “I am sorry. How did she die?” “She just went to sleep and never woke up.” His voice broke.

“And you think stalking me will encourage me to spend more time with you?” Persephone demanded. Demeter laughed. “Oh, my flower, I cannot stalk you. I am your mother.”

“A cab, please,” Persephone said, glancing at her friend. “Make it two.”

“We’ve been through this, haven’t we? You are mine. I think you know that just as well as I do.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Have you ever thought that maybe you’re mine instead?” His lips twitched and

“Polecat.” Hecate laughed quietly. “She was once a human witch, but she was an idiot, so I turned her into a polecat.” Persephone stared at the goddess, but Hecate didn’t seem to notice her stunned silence. “I like her better this way,” Hecate added, then looked up at Persephone. “But enough about Gale. What can I help you with, my dear?”

“But…why me?” she demanded. “You should be going to this. You’re the editor in chief.” “I have another obligation that night.” “Bigger than the Olympian Gala?” Demetri smirked. “I have been many times, Persephone.” “I don’t understand. Hades doesn’t even go to the gala.”

“You are the worst wager he’s ever made.” Minthe’s words rolled around in Persephone’s head.

“Of course I’ll play,” she said. A chorus of cheers erupted as she walked with the children to a clear part of the meadow, out of the way of the souls preparing for Hades’s celebration.

I know there is something beneath this pretty facade.” Hades’s fingers continued their featherlight caress over Persephone’s skin. His words weren’t far behind, whispering along the path of heat he left. He kissed her shoulder. “There is rage. There is passion. There is darkness.” He paused a moment and let his tongue swirl against her neck. Her breath caught in her throat so hard, she thought she might choke. “And I want to taste it.”

Persephone studied her red silk gown in the mirror. It was simple but fit her like a glove, accentuating the curve of her hips where the fabric gathered and then split midthigh to expose one creamy leg. A pretty black floral appliqué spilled from her right shoulder down the right side of the open back. Lexa had styled her hair for her, pulling it into a high, curled ponytail, and done her makeup, choosing a dark smoky eye. Persephone accessorized with simple gold earrings and the gold cuff she wore to cover

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” She turned to find Hermes approaching through the crowd. “A Goddess of Tartarus.” Persephone raised a brow in question. “Get it? Torture?” She gave him a blank stare, and he frowned. “Because you’re torturing Hades?”

“So you don’t think he likes you?” the girl asked. “I’d much rather he respect me,” Persephone answered.

They smelled of lavender and vanilla—her favorite scents.

Persephone glared at the Goddess of Love through watery eyes. “You do love him.” “Why would you be sorry?” Persephone asked through her teeth. “This is what you wanted.” The goddess shook her head. “Because…until today, I didn’t believe in love.”

She snapped her fingers, and Minthe shrunk and morphed until she was nothing more than a lush mint plant.

“Do you know what a corpse lily is, Adonis?” He glared at her and didn’t speak. “Don’t make me repeat myself, mortal.” She dropped her glamour and took a threatening step forward. “Yes or no?” Adonis’s eyes widened, and he wiggled away, whimpering, “No.” “Pity. It is a parasitic flower that smells like decaying flesh. I’m sure you’re wondering what this has to do with you. Well, it’s a wager. If you touch any woman without consent, I will turn you into one.”

“When you were born, I went to the Fates and asked of your future. A goddess had not been born in ages, and I worried for you. They told me you were destined to be a Queen of Darkness, the Bride of Death. Hades’s wife. I could not let that happen.