A Touch of Chaos (14 page)

Before Persephone left Elysium, she cast a quick glance across the landscape in search of her mother. When Lexa died, she had visited almost every day, even when she had not been allowed to approach her. She felt no such urge with Demeter. She wasn't even sure why she was looking for her now, save that she was curious.

She caught sight of her in the distance, recognizing the golden hue of her hair and her tall and graceful silhouette as she stared off into the gray horizon.

She was alone, which was typical of the souls who resided within the Isle of the Blessed. They came here with no memories of their former lives to heal. Eventually, most would move into Asphodel. Some would reincarnate.

Persephone did not know what would happen to her mother. Perhaps she would never leave this place.

There was a part of her that felt sad that this was Demeter's existence in the Underworld—she was just as alone here as she had been in the Upperworld. It was something Persephone had never thought long on before, but she saw it now.

“
Leave with me now, and we can forget this ever happened
,” Demeter had begged when they faced off in the arsenal, but there was no forgetting, because by the end of it, she had hurt Persephone too many times, and there
was no coming back from that, no pretending it never happened.

Suddenly, her chest felt tight, and her heart ached. She hadn't had time to dwell on how everything had come to an end, and truly, she could not afford to now.

She had to focus on Hades.

That feeling in her chest grew sharper.

Hades.

She tried to imagine what it would be like to see him again after the horror Theseus had likely put him through, the extent of which she could only imagine given how the Impious and Triad had treated Adonis, Harmonia, and Tyche. The thought made her sick.

There was no way he was coming back the same, but she would love him through it, no matter how many pieces she had to hold together.

Persephone stopped by her suite to check on Harmonia. Aphrodite was still there, curled up beside her on the bed, asleep. Sybil sat near the fireplace working. She met Persephone's gaze over her computer as the goddess approached.

“No change?”

“No change,” Sybil said.

Persephone frowned and studied her oracle for a moment. Her eyes looked dark, almost bruised.

“Have you slept?” she asked.

Sybil shook her head. “I have been working on an article for
The Advocate
about your life based on what you've told me,” said Sybil. “I know this isn't your top
priority, but while you work on rescuing Hades, I can work on how the public perceives you.”

Persephone sank into the chair opposite her, suddenly feeling the burden of everything that had taken place over the last few days and what lay ahead.

“It seems so ridiculous, doesn't it? To care what they think…but I do.”

“You care because you know the truth,” Sybil said.

“My truth is not everyone's truth,” said Persephone.

There were mortals and immortals alike who had experienced a different Demeter—one who had granted them favor, offered them prosperity and abundance in whatever form they'd wished.

“That does not make what you went through any less valid,” said Sybil.

Persephone said nothing. Though the oracle's words eased her anxiety, their conversation had opened another angry wound. She had deserved the same kindness Demeter had shown others. No one had shown her that more than Hades and his realm. Strangers had treated her better than her mother, the woman who had claimed to want her desperately.

She could not make sense of it now, and she cast her gaze toward the bed where Harmonia and Aphrodite lay.

“What does Hecate say about her wound?” Persephone asked.

Sybil's eyes followed. “She says we may have to resort to using the Golden Fleece.”

Persephone had not heard about the Golden Fleece since studying Jason and the Argonauts in college. Jason, the rightful king of Iolcos, was sent away by his uncle,
Pelias, to retrieve the fleece, a task he believed impossible. Successful, Jason was able to reclaim his throne, and the fleece came to represent kingship, but its real power was that it could heal.

“You are reluctant?” Persephone asked.

Sybil hesitated. “It's not using it that worries me. It's obtaining it,” she said and paused. “Hecate says the fleece hangs in a tree guarded by a dragon within Ares's sacred grove.”

“Ares,” Persephone said. “But that should be easy. Aphrodite—”

Sybil shook her head. “Zeus has forbidden anyone from helping those who betrayed him.”

Persephone wondered how Zeus would know. Was his decree bound with magic?

“We must find another way,” Sybil said.

Perhaps Hades will know.
Persephone thought the words but did not say them aloud. She wasn't sure why, but there was a part of her that feared her hope, because she knew what she would become if Hades was taken from her. It would be like letting the evils of Pandora's box into the world again, only she would be behind the chaos.

Before long, it was time to leave. Persephone met Hecate in the foyer of the palace. The goddess handed her Galanthis, the black cat she'd instructed her to take into the labyrinth.

“Do not worry about her. She will take care of herself
and
you,” said Hecate. Then she placed her hands on either side of Persephone's face. They were cold, and she shivered beneath her touch. “Many of us have relied on magic too long to try solving problems without it, but
you—you have had to live most of your life as a mortal. There is no one better suited for the labyrinth than you.”

Persephone took a deep breath, trying to ease the anxiety bubbling in her chest. It didn't work, but her words were comforting.

“Thank you, Hecate,” she said, her voice quiet.

The Goddess of Witchcraft smiled and dropped her hands. She might have looked like a proud mother if it wasn't for the hint of fear in her eyes.

“You can do this, Persephone.”

Persephone said nothing, just held the cat tighter as she called on her magic and left the Underworld.

“What do you mean she's in the hospital?” Dionysus demanded.

Naia and Lilaia, two of his maenads, had just returned with news, and it wasn't at all what Dionysus had expected. Phaedra had been admitted to Asclepius Community Hospital. Given her shitty husband, he feared Theseus was responsible.

“She's in labor,” said Naia.

“
Labor
,” Dionysus repeated.

“She's having a baby,” said Lilaia. “In case you don't know what that means.”

“I
know
what it means,” Dionysus glared. “But how did this happen?”

“Given how often you eye fuck Ariadne, I am surprised you don't know where babies come from, Dionysus.”

“I really don't know why I put up with you,” Dionysus said.

Lilaia grinned.

“Ariadne never said her sister was pregnant,” Dionysus said.

Naia shrugged. “She hasn't seen Phaedra in months. It is possible she doesn't know.”

“What am I supposed to do with the fucking baby?”

“What do you mean what are you supposed to do with the fucking baby?” asked Lilaia. “You bring it with you.”

“That's kidnapping.”

“It's not kidnapping if there is consent.”

“The baby can't consent!”

There was a beat of silence, and then Naia said, “I really don't understand how you lived this long.”

“That makes two of us,” Dionysus snapped.

“Three,” Lilaia added.

Dionysus glared at them both.

It wasn't his fault. He didn't exactly have the best parental figure. Zeus was absent completely. And Silenus taught him how to drink and encouraged him to fuck. If he had any claim to a childhood, that was it.

“Wherever Phaedra goes, the baby will go,” said Naia.

Gods fucking dammit.
This was going to be a nightmare.

He had known they would face retaliation if they managed to rescue Phaedra—but a baby too? He would be lucky to escape with his life and the lives of those he cared about, his maenads.

“Why the fuck did I agree to this?” Dionysus muttered.

“Because,” said Lilaia, “this woman is being abused, and you know that will not change once this child is born.”

“This is one life threatening hundreds,” Dionysus said.

“Two lives,” said Naia. “And it's worth it if we say it is.”

Dionysus would not argue with that.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“You are going to shape-shift into this man,” said Naia, turning her tablet around. She showed Dionysus a picture of a pale mortal with graying hair. “His name is Dr. Phanes. He is the only one allowed in Phaedra's room along with two other nurses. Lilaia will disguise herself as one. The other will be a hospital employee,” Naia continued and then met Dionysus's gaze. “We figured at least one person should know what they're doing.”

“I don't see your name on this plan,” Dionysus said.

“I will make sure Dr. Phanes and his nurse do not make it to their posts,” she said. “And when I'm done with that, I'm coming for this bumbling idiot.” Naia showed another picture of a beefy man with small eyes and a permanent scowl. “His name is Tannis. Theseus has him posted at Phaedra's hospital door.”

Dionysus shook his head.
What a fucking asshole
. He treated Phaedra like a prisoner.

“I'll make sure he's gone by the time we're ready to leave,” Naia said. “We move as soon as Ariadne and Persephone leave for Knossos.”

Dionysus stiffened, and suddenly, he felt like he couldn't take deep enough breaths. He had known this was coming, but he still didn't like it. Ariadne was essentially using herself as bait to lure Theseus away, and Theseus would go because he wanted her.

That thought turned his stomach.

He'd been surprised by her sudden change of heart.
She had gone from refusing to help Hades to jumping at the chance to lead Persephone through the labyrinth, but he understood now. Her participation ensured Theseus was distracted enough to extract Phaedra safely.

He didn't like it, but he would do it for her.

His only worry was what he'd do if she didn't make it out of the labyrinth.

Dionysus looked at Naia and Lilaia. “Best not tell Ariadne,” he said. “She doesn't need distractions in the labyrinth.”

“Tell me what?”

Dionysus whirled as Ariadne entered the room. She was dressed from head to toe in black with her hair pulled back, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She was followed by Persephone, who was carrying a cat.

“Nothing,” Dionysus said quickly, then his eyes fell to the fluffy feline. “Why do you have a cat?”

“Hecate says to bring her to the labyrinth,” said Persephone. She exchanged a look with Ariadne. “And when Hecate tells you to do something, you do not argue.”

That was fair. Hecate was the Goddess of Witchcraft. Whatever she sent along with Persephone was bound to help, which meant it was also of benefit to Ariadne. Still…why a cat?

Dionysus's gaze returned to Ariadne, who dropped her heavy bag to the ground. She bent to unzip it and dug out a set of clothes before handing them to Persephone.

“Change,” she said, taking the cat. “Down the hall to your left.”

Persephone obeyed without hesitation, a hard edge to her pale face.

“What's in the bag?” Dionysus asked. “Other than clothes.”

He didn't really care, but he wanted to keep her from pressing him about what he intended to keep from her. It was bad enough she was going to go into the labyrinth distracted by Phaedra, likely worrying over whether he was capable of rescuing her. She didn't need to worry about a baby too.

“Supplies,” she said, scratching behind the cat's ear.

He didn't like that she was being so short with him, though it wasn't unusual. It seemed to happen every time they came close to fucking again. It was like, in the aftermath, she realized she had made a mistake.

He tamped down the frustration that shot through him, holding her gaze before letting his eyes drift down her body.

“Are you armed?” he asked.

“What do you think?” she countered.

“I can't imagine where you put it,” he said.

The last time he'd argued with her about this, she'd showed him her ass in an elevator, and it had left him mostly speechless. He had a feeling she was going to do that again.

She raised a brow. “Can't you?”

Then she pulled the front of her jacket back to reveal a holster.

Damn, that wasn't nearly as exciting.

There was silence for a moment. He couldn't take his eyes off her.

“Are you ready for this?” he asked.

“As ready as I'm going to be,” she said. “Are you?”

No
, he wanted to say.
What if you don't come back?

But he knew that wasn't what she meant.

“Our part is easy,” he said.

Ariadne did not look so certain, and he wondered if her doubt came from mistrust in him. Though he didn't have the best track record with her. He had promised to help her sister before if she helped him find Medusa first. He'd believed they would need the gorgon to fight Theseus.

Persephone returned dressed similarly to Ariadne, in head-to-toe black, including a leather jacket.

“Is the jacket necessary?” Persephone asked, her cheeks flushed.

“If the labyrinth is as I remember, then yes,” said Ariadne. She returned the cat to Persephone and reached for her duffel bag, swinging it over her shoulder. “Ready?”

“That's it?” Dionysus asked. “What is your plan?”

“The plan is to make it out of the labyrinth with Hades,” said Ariadne.

“That's the goal, not the plan, Ari.”

She glared at him. “I know what a plan is, Dionysus. I have this under control.” Her eyes shifted to Naia and Lilaia. “As soon as we arrive, Theseus will know. He will come to Knossos immediately. Then you can make your move.”

The women nodded.

Dionysus hated that she was talking to them and not him—as if he wasn't part of this plan.

“Let's go,” Ariadne said. “The sooner we get there, the sooner this is over.”

Dionysus's hands fisted, fighting the urge to touch her, even to speak, but he lost that battle.

“Ari,” he called as she turned toward Persephone. She paused and held his gaze. “Make sure you get out so you can see your sister again.”

So I can see you again
, he thought.

She nodded once, and then Persephone's sweet-scented magic filled the air. He didn't take his eyes off Ariadne, staring at the spot where she had stood even after they vanished.

“It's time,” said Lilaia, her finger resting on her earpiece as she listened to Naia give updates. They were waiting in the shadow of the adjoining parking garage, away from prying eyes and cameras. “She's in room 323.”

She met Dionysus's gaze, and he nodded, quickly shifting into an identical image of the doctor Naia had shown him. His ability to change forms was more than glamour, which only gave the
appearance
of a transformation. He changed on a physical level, and it always felt wrong, like he was wearing another skin over his own.

“That is
so
unsettling,” Naia said, shuddering.

“Ready?” Dionysus asked.

Lilaia secured a surgical mask over her face. “Let's get this mama somewhere safe.”

He nodded, and together they left the shelter of the parking garage, crossing beneath a covered walkway and into the hospital, which was like barreling into a solid wall of sound. There was noise
everywhere
, pushing in from all sides.

It was all so loud. Dionysus felt like he could
feel
every layer of sound—from the high-pitched ring of the telephone to the shuffling of paper. It scraped against his
skin, putting him more and more on edge as he made his way down the sterile hallway with Lilaia in tow.

The intercom blared, a female voice making Dionysus's ears ring.

“Dr. Phanes to room 323. Dr. Phanes to room 323.”

“That's Phaedra's room,” said Lilaia.

“I know,” said Dionysus tightly.

They were almost to the elevators when someone slammed a hand down on his shoulder.

“Dr. Phanes!”

Dionysus whirled to face a nurse.

He had been so intent on his task, he nearly forgot who he was supposed to be impersonating.

“Y-yes?” he asked.

“Our patient in 124 just lost her mucus plug. Fetal heart rate is stable at 143, and contractions are still irregular,” the nurse said. “Should we increase the Pitocin?”

What the fuck was a mucus plug, and why did the sound of it make him want to vomit?

Dionysus hesitated. “Uh…”

Lilaia kicked him from behind, and he glanced at her to see her nod.

“Yes,” Dionysus said, turning back to the nurse. “Yes, increase the…”

He forgot what the nurse had said.
Pee-toe-sin
?

“Pitocin?” the nurse supplied.

“Yes, yes. The Pitocin.”

“Got it.”

The nurse hurried away down the hall, and Dionysus turned to face the elevators as Lilaia stabbed the top button.

“Are you sure you can do this?” she asked.

“Of course I can do this,” said Dionysus as the elevator doors slid open. “How hard could it be?”

“Okay,” she said in a rather singsong voice that made him think she didn't believe him at all. He glared at her back as they stepped inside the lift. They were pushed into a corner as several more people piled inside.

“You think I am not capable,” Dionysus said.

“I did not say—”

“You said it with your face.”

Lilaia sighed and then she looked up at Dionysus. “I don't think you're prepared. There is a difference.”

“I think I can pull off an abduction,” he snapped. “I have done it a million times.”