In perfectly formed rows, thousands of haggard soldiers lined up in front of the palace. They filled acres and acres. They were an impressive sight, especially considering that they seemed to be undead.
Their skin was gray, their cheeks hollow. Their eyes were cold and flat. They stood at attention, completely still with their eyes fixed straight ahead. A drastic chill emanated from them and I shivered as we grew closer.
We moved cautiously through them and they didn’t budge an inch or even break rank to look at us. They allowed us to enter the perimeter and approach the palace.
“What does this mean?” I whispered to Cadmus.
“It means that we’re expected,” he answered calmly.
The god of the Underworld was waiting for us? It wasn’t exactly a comforting thought. I focused on staying calm as we approached and when we reached the massive gates, Cadmus stood me on my feet and I took his arm. Keeping one hand on his palpable strength was truly comforting. I hoped it would leak into me by osmosis.
“We’re here to see Hades,” Ares demanded of the guard.
The undead guard didn’t meet my father’s eyes, he simply nodded once curtly and the gates opened. We were definitely expected.
Ares led the way across the drawbridge-like entry and into the palace.
The entry way opened up into a cavernous foyer made from glistening onyx, polished to a high shine. The second we entered, I began to feel better, as though my strength was being returned to me. I quickly looked to my mother. She was coming around also, opening her eyes and lifting her head from my father’s chest. I breathed a sigh of relief.
This room was empty of any furniture but for a large wall of clocks to my right. There were hundreds of them, showing the times of everywhere from Sidney to Juneau. I was staring quizzically at them when a low voice came from the shadows.
“Why do I care, right? Time does not exist here.”
I whipped my head around to find a tall, slender man emerging from the darkness. It had to be Hades. I knew from simply looking at him that it could be no one else.
He had shoulder length dark hair, black eyes and golden skin. And he wasn’t what I expected. He was… handsome and young. He had the physical appearance of someone in their thirties. He wore black leather pants and an unbuttoned white flowing shirt. A dark cloak was casually thrown over his shoulders but it didn’t conceal anything. His stomach was flat and sculpted.
From all appearances, Hades could have been a rock star. There was a brooding air of something romantically dark surrounding him. It immediately stood all of my nerve-endings at attention in an almost pleasing way. Something about him screamed dangerous, but deep inside, I liked it. And that put me instantly on guard.
He circled around to stand in front of us, but his gaze was fixed on me. The fact that I was the Chosen One had never been so glaringly obvious. I felt like the prey of a lion as he quietly examined me and I subconsciously hid my birthmark with my other hand.
“Harmonia,” he smiled. And he had a beautiful smile.
He reached out and picked up my hand, drawing it to his lips. The imprint from the touch of his lips lingered, almost buzzing with electricity even as he released my hand and I dropped it back to my side.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said as his dark eyes flitted over my body. I had the conflicting urges to both cover up and to step closer to him. What the hell was wrong with me? It was as though he literally exuded magnetism. I now understood how men felt around Aphrodite. It was an almost uncontrollable urge.
I glanced at my husband to find his jaw clenched. He could sense it, too, the effect Hades was having on me. I reached over and grasped his hand. Hades glanced down, but didn’t acknowledge that he’d seen my gesture.
“I’m Hades,” he offered casually with another smile…as though he hadn’t just announced that he was the King of the Underworld. I wouldn’t know how to begin to classify his demeanor. He was confident, yet not brash. In fact, he was almost understated. He was quiet-mannered, yet he possessed a definite air of danger. I knew without question that whatever else he was, he was a threat to me on many, many levels.
And he knew it.
His eyes assessed mine, almost as though he was reaching into my soul to examine it as well. He moved to circle me, standing behind me as he leaned in to murmur into my ear.
“You’re a light, little Harmonia,” he breathed. “A pure and innocent light. We’ve needed someone like you for a long while.”
“Don’t get used to it,” Cadmus snapped, pulling me closer to him. “We won’t be staying.”
Hades looked to him without concern. “Will you not? There are not many ways for you to leave,” he remarked, before he looked to my mother.
“Aphrodite, I do hope you are feeling better?”
My father had put her down and she was standing at his side, grasping his elbow. She did look immensely better. Color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes were once again spitting fire. She tilted up her nose.
“I’m well, thank you,” she sniffed. I hid my smile. She was indeed better. Her spunk had returned and it was obvious that she was not happy with this entire state of affairs.
Hades looked mildly amused at her behavior. He nodded with a small smile and spread his hands wide at his sides.
“Come,” he gestured toward the hall. “I have prepared a feast for you. You must join us. Persephone is waiting…and she is not what would call patient.”
He turned and led the way, walking fluidly into the hall. He almost seemed to glide.
“As if we would eat,” Ares muttered as they followed. I could hear Hades chuckle, but he said nothing in reply.
Cadmus leaned toward me, brushing his lips across my cheek bone. “Everything will be fine, Harmonia.” He was intent and he believed it. I so hoped he was right.
“I know,” I answered.
We continued down a long marble hallway. On either side, framed artwork hung on the pristine walls. Priceless, original pieces. I recognized Picasso, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Degas, Matisse. As Hades turned to wait for us, he followed my gaze.
“I do love the art of the mortals,” he said. “It’s as though their fleeting lives allow them to truly capture beauty.”
“Well, your paintings are certainly beautiful,” I agreed.
He dipped his head slightly in acceptance of my compliment. “Yet their beauty is far outshined by your own.”
His demeanor was fascinating and I found myself sucked in by it. He was genteel and sophisticated, sexy and dark. I had to continually remind myself who I was dealing with and I gave him a wide berth as I passed by him. He fell into step behind us and his presence was enormous. I felt him one step behind me even without looking.