“Empusa, I’m surprised at you,” Hades drawled. “You’re such a smart girl. Surely you’ve thought this through. So often on Olympus, people are punished not for what they do themselves, but for what those close to them do. Their husbands, their wives, their parents, their children… hasn’t that occurred to you?”
“Of course it has,” I answered. “But I don’t have a husband and my mother hasn’t done anything to Mormo. She upset Zeus, but not Mormo. Not to my knowledge. She’s the one that should be upset with him. He’s abandoned her periodically for thousands of years. He just goes away and doesn’t come back for years and years. She should be the one angry at him. For that and for cursing me, of course.”
“Hmm, you could be right,” Hades said thoughtfully. “But you could be wrong, too. Perhaps she has done something to upset him that you don’t know about. Did you consider that possibility?”
And I hadn’t. In my mind, my mother was perfect. Perfectly wise, perfectly loyal, perfectly brilliant. It had never even once occurred to me that she might have done something to infuriate Mormo to the point where he would exact revenge on me. And Hades sounded like he knew something. My eyes instantly narrowed again.
“What do you know?” I asked. “You know something.”
“I know many things, darling,” he answered smoothly. “Many, many things. But I’m sure you can figure this out for yourself if you just think on it. Trust me, it is ever so much more satisfying that way.”
“I’ve been thinking on it for a thousand years,” I argued. “Just tell me.”
“You’re impatient,” he smiled. “I like that about you. I used to be…once. So long ago , it seems like. I’ve grown to become patient. Being immortal does that to a person. I’m surprised you haven’t wielded to it just yet.”
He reached up and plucked another Lotus blossom from the vine and chewed on it thoughtfully as he studied me with his dark and dangerous eyes. His magnetism was strange and interesting. It wasn’t sexual per se, but it was oh-so-strong. I wanted to be near him, I wanted to touch him, I wanted to hear his voice. It was a compulsion that I couldn’t control and I hated that.
“Yes, my dear. You are a woman who craves control. I think that is a direct result of the life that you’ve been forced to lead- how so much has been taken from your control, don’t you agree?” Hades asked, in response to my thoughts.
“Perhaps,” I answered grudgingly. No one liked to admit a fault, least of all me. “But that is really neither here nor there.”
“True,” he nodded. “It is not. I have to admit, I enjoy being in control, as well. I could never cast stones for that.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. The god of the underworld certainly did have a few control issues. You could just ask his wife, Persephone. He wanted her so badly as his wife that he tricked her into staying in the Underworld with him.
Hades appraised me silently. “Glad I can make you laugh,” he said wryly. As I stared at him, his face shimmered for a second, like a mirage in the sun, and then his appearance changed back to his own. “Let’s be ourselves, shall we?” he suggested. “I am no more Brennan than you are Persephone.”
“That’s what I’ve been saying all along,” I reminded him. “I have a sense, though, that you never wanted me to be Persephone in the first place.”
Hades smiled again, his teeth beautiful and white against his olive skin.
“You’re very perceptive,” he said. “I simply wanted to see Persephone’s face for a moment- while it wasn’t wearing an expression of disappointment or anger. I’m sorry that I used you for that.”
Twinge.
I ignored my heart.
“Stop trying to make me feel sorry for you. By all accounts, Persephone is a good wife to you. Has she had dalliances? Yes. But so have you. Have you disappointed her? Probably. But who among married couples hasn’t disappointed their partner, particularly when they’ve been married for eons? It’s bound to happen. I’m sure she has disappointed you too. But the important thing is that you still love each other. And I know that Persephone loves you.”
“You’re not heartless after all, little Empusa,” Hades observed. “I’m sure that’s a little known secret. Don’t worry. I won’t share it. You do have empathy. It’s an admirable trait, if you don’t let it go too far.”
“And what would you say is too far?” I asked curiously. “Having human emotion?”
Hades rearranged himself on the bed. He was sprawled leisurely against the cushions, as nonchalant and relaxed as he could be. With the gauzy drapes hanging from the sides of the canopy and the vines hanging low from overhead, he could practically be on a postcard. It was a picture-perfect, relaxing scene. I was the opposite. I was bouncing my foot in agitation, in a hurry to wrap this up and get back to Brennan.
“You must learn patience, kitten,” Hades chastised, reaching around me for the wine on the side table. He poured a glass for himself and then one for me. Offering it to me, he noticed my shaking fingers.
“Surely you don’t need blood already, do you?” he asked, examining my face. “No, you still have healthy coloring. Why are you shaking?”
“I’m not,” I answered. “I’m just anxious to return to the real world.”
“I don’t see why,” Hades drawled, relaxing again. “What is there for you besides a curse?”
“The man that I love,” I answered coolly.
“Details,” he replied with a grin. “Love is over-rated, you know. Kingdoms have been lost because of it.”
“And kingdoms have been won,” I reminded him. “People will move mountains for love.”
“True,” Hades acknowledged. “And I’ve known people who traveled to the depths of hell for it. And they perished there.”