The Sea Queen (The Dark Queens Book 1) (14 page)

This was not at all the story I’d heard.
So why didn’t he just call the chit out as a liar?

At this Dite’s eyes looked sad.
Because by then he’d fallen in love with her. That part of the tale was true. Hades fell madly for Spring. She was his opposite in every way, and I think that youthful innocence was the attraction. In many ways, you are just like Persephone. Or rather, what he’d believed her to be at the time. Desirous that others should not see her in an ugly light, he played along with her ploy.

The fury of the fight was dying down. This hadn’t been a true war, not in the sense that they actually meant to exterminate life. More just boys blowing off steam.

Then he’s an idiot.

And I said that kindly, because even though what he’d done had been foolish in the extreme, it only proved what I’d suspected of the brute all along. He was an honest-to-god gentleman. Would wonders never cease?

Go easy on him, Calypso. He was young then, relatively speaking. He thought with time she’d grow out of her wild ways. She never did.

Turning to Aphrodite, I looked her in the eye. And I saw truth shining back at me.
How is it, then, that you know this and no one else does?

Her smile was soft.
I am the Goddess of Love. I know all things concerning matters of the heart.

Then why didn’t you tell others the truth?
I wasn’t angry with her, but it seemed unfair the reputation Hades had developed, especially in light of the fact that it’d been entirely undeserving.

He is a proud man and would not have wanted me to.

You know what’s happened to Persephone, don’t you?

There I do not. He fell out of love with Spring millennia ago. I’ve not been able to read Hades for quite some time.

And now?

She said nothing for a while. But she grabbed my hand and squeezed.
And now I can. Tell me, Sea, why are you in Olympus?

To discover some truths.

I’d learned far more today than I’d expected, but I wasn’t done yet. Standing, I nodded at both Hades and Zeus, who were now panting and thoroughly spent; it seemed even shadow could tire out.

“Go home and await me, Master,” I said to Hades. “I am perfectly fine now.”

His smile was broad. Even in shadow form, he still managed to steal my breath.

“You truly are the worst slave in the history of ever.” His deep, wicked voice had my thighs tingling.

Blowing him an air kiss, I banished him. Then, turning to Zeus, I lifted a brow. “You look like you tried to rut a bull and the bull won.”

“Calypso, I should roast you and make furniture of your bones.”

“Whatever, dipstick. I’m off to speak with her royal blindness, and then I promise I’ll be out of your hair.”

With a curtsy that was far more impudent than humble, I took my leave of them.

Oddly enough, no one bothered me after that affair. It could be a handy thing to have Death be my pet, it seemed.

I came to Themis’s cave home not even an hour later. Loud music emanated from the very walls of the cave itself. For a cave, the place was far from dank and honestly quite cozy. The rock was a splendid color of dusky rose, gems of all sorts veined all through it. It was dark—no doubt because Themis had no need of light—but walking down the entrance, I soon found myself in a large cave with throw rugs on the floor, comfy couches shoved up against the wall, and natural trees that’d grown up from the dirt.

Themis was dressed in blue jean shorts and a colorful crop top and was currently dancing her booty off, shaking her groove thang from one spot to the next.

Immediately she stopped and clapped her hands, and the music died. Then she took a quick sniff.

“Calypso? What are you doing here?” she asked still without turning.

Themis suddenly twirled on me and I finally got my first good look at the blind goddess. Whenever I’d seen her before, she’d always looked standoffish and aloof, dressed in a white toga with her perpetual white ribbon around her eyes.

But today her long brown hair spilled in soft waves down her back, and the opalescent whites of her eyes practically gleamed in a not-so-unattractive face.

Shoulders straightening, she shook her head. “I know why you’re here.”

I shrugged, tossing up my hands. I hadn’t actually woken up this morning with the intention of coming up here, but after my afternoon delights, the idea had hit me like a flash.

“I have discovered where Persephone is.”

I frowned. Then why hadn’t she announced her verdict already?

She sighed. “Because the matter is rather more complicated than I’d anticipated.”

Complicated? My mind was buzzy with possibilities.

“You really should ask him. I’m sure he’ll tell you if he wants you to know.”

Now it was my turn to sigh. So much for my intentions of not allowing matters to become complicated. But after his confession last night and now this, did I really have any other options?

“I’m not quite sure how to pass judgment on this one, to be honest. So I’m dancing. I find music to be very soothing when my mind is ill at ease.”

This sounded more serious than I’d imagined.

“This is very serious and must be handled delicately. Truth is, I plan to leave Hades with you through the entirety of the allotted time. Calypso, I may have need of your services in the future. Would you mind?”

Did that mean there was a possibility of saving Hades?

“Quite possibly.”

Then I was certainly willing to help.

Themis’s smile grew wide. “You are welcome to visit me whenever you’d like. Most excellent talk, goddess fair.”

“Yes, I thought so too.” With a finger wave, I took my leave of her.

Chapter 13

Hades

We collapsed on a heap upon the bed, our bodies soaked with sweat and my heart still galloping like the hooves of my Night steads. I expected Calypso to vanish as she often did after sex, but she seemed in no rush to leave this night.

It’d been a week since her visit to Olympus. I’d hoped that at some point she would speak to me about what she’d done there and, more specifically, why she’d gone to Themis, but she never had.

She’d simply taken my body and had her way with me, over and over and over again.

But I had no cause to complain.

Rolling onto my side, I draped a leg over hers. “Now you’re trapped and cannot leave me.”

Luminescent eyes sparkled up at me. Today her form was that of water. I found I enjoyed any form she came in. Trailing a finger down the column of her throat, I smiled as diamond-encrusted clear lashes feathered like a delicate fan upon her cheeks.

“Hades,” she mewled, and my gut clenched.

I was growing positively addicted to this temptress. “Thalassa.”

She pretended to gag, but only briefly, and only in jest. She no longer sassed me for calling her such. In fact, she seemed to brighten whenever I did. In the privacy of our quarters, I found that name was mine alone. Just like this woman was. Only mine, ever.

Unable to resist the touch of her, even though she’d just ridden me a minimum of eight times straight, her perky breasts bouncing prettily for each ride, I cupped one of the overflowing mounds and squeezed.

She groaned. “By Olympus, I love your touch.”

I froze. It was the first time she’d used that word in any context with me. But my little spitfire rarely used words properly, so I was likely overthinking things.

“But, Death Boy,” she grabbed my hand, forcing me to pause in my exploration of her cool nipple, “we should talk.”

Groaning, I released her and tossed myself back on the pillow, folding my arms behind my head. “Your timing, as ever, is impeccable, slave.”

Giggling softly, she wiggled her pliant body atop mine. She weighed practically nothing, but I felt each and every lush curve of her.

“Ply you with sex and then talk your ear off. Yes, I know, my dear, I’m an adept student.”

“Student?” I lifted a brow. “I don’t think you were ever a student.”

Moving an arm, I dropped it onto the curve of her buttocks where hip met thigh and squeezed. I should have been sated, but if she gave me even the slightest indication of willingness, I’d not say no.

However, it seemed she really did wish to talk. With a sigh, I moved my hand up, tracing with my finger the dimples that kissed her back.

Nibbling her bottom lip, she seemed unsure about where to start, but her fingers continued to idly stroke my longest and deepest scar, a horizontal one that ran from one side of my navel to the other.

I’d known for some time that she was curious about them.

“The scars?” I guessed.

She took in a deep breath. “I mean, if you don’t want to talk about them...”

What that pause actually meant was “talk about them.”

Kissing the crown of her forehead, I crossed my ankles, enjoying the feel of her naked body pressed to mine. This almost felt more intimate than the marathon sex sessions we’d been having for the past week in a half.

“When a mortal dies, they come to me, and their soul is weighed. Heavy souls go to Tartarus, light souls to the Elysian Fields.”

Crossing her hands underneath her chin, she nodded. “Proceed.”

My lips twitched. “If your soul is wicked, you remain as you were in death. Your injuries remain your own. But in Elysia, you are healed. Given a clean slate.”

Her touch was delicate as she nuzzled at a scar just beneath my right nipple. It was small and slightly puckered.

“But that does not come without cost to you, does it, sex slave?”

Rubbing an idle hand up and down her spine, I shook my head. “No, it does not. In order for one to be cleansed, another must be defiled.”

“So you don’t have to take on their injuries?”

I stopped moving my hand, lost to her hypnotic eyes. “No. But I would not wish this fate upon others. It is not fair.”

“And yet you would choose to allow your own beautiful body to grow deformed by it. What did this?”

She once more nuzzled the pucker.

“A girl, quite young. Early teens maybe. She’d been shot by a brother.”

Calypso frowned, and I could read the fury igniting through her blood. I smoothed a finger across her furrowed brow.

“It is not what you imagine, Thalassa. The boy was a child, and the wound was little more than accident. A terrible, costly one, but an accident nonetheless.”

Frowning prettily, she pressed a tender kiss to the spot. “Why are you so good?”

I snorted. “I am not always good. Many of the stories you’ve heard of me are true. I have a terrible temper.”

She shrugged. “Nothing wrong with a bad temper.”

“And a surly disposition in the morning if I’ve not been fed immediately.”

“Magic fingers,” she snapped.

I laughed. “You are determined to dress me as something I am not.”

Her smile turned soft. “But maybe...maybe to me you are.”

With those words, my little dove vanished.

But I smiled, because I knew that today, we’d just had another breakthrough. And since tomorrow was my day, I already knew the plans I had in store for my flighty, sharp-tongued shrew.

~*~

Calypso

I couldn’t seem to stop smiling the next morning. It’d felt very wicked to rest in Hades’ arms last night. I’d wanted to stay there forever. It was becoming harder and harder to remember why that was a bad thing.

All this nonsense of not wanting to get attached. Surely there was nothing wrong with a little attachment—if handled properly, that was.

But then I remembered the whole problem with Persephone, and my smile turned upside down. Themis hadn’t gotten in touch with me since that day, and even Dite had stopped visiting.

The old adage that no news was good news was bulldung.

By the time I got to Nim’s kitchen, I was positively cross. Jeffery came in at a certain point, took one look at me, tucked legs, and ran.

That almost made me laugh.

By the time Nimue came to find me for lunch, I was surly, no bones about it.

“This salad is wonderful, Janita. Sea kelp and sesame seeds. You’re such a clever cook.”

Even her words failed to bring a smile to my lips, a sight she immediately noted.

“Okay, spit it.”

I opened my mouth wide. “I’ve got nothing in there.”

“That’s not what I mean.” She drummed her coral-pink-lacquered nails on the tabletop. “I mean you’re acting strange, and I know something’s wrong, so tell me.”

I shrugged. “It’s Harold.”

She squinted. “Who? Do you have another lover?”

“What?” I asked in a daze. “Of course I don’t have another lover. What would give you such an odd idea?”

“Gee, I don’t know.” She lifted her brows, gave me a crooked smile, and then patted my hand. “What’s wrong with... Harold, was it?”

“Of course it’s Harold. Nimue, are you ill?”

She patted her belly. “Pregnancy fog. Don’t mind me.”

“Anyway,” I batted my wrist, “I want him.”

“Last I heard, you had him.”

“I know. I can hardly understand meself right now. ’Tis maddening.” I looked to her. Nim was always so wise, giving me great advice. Advice I hadn’t heeded much lately, to be sure, but solid advice nonetheless.

She turned her palm over, asking me to proceed.

“He’s leaving soon. I thought I would be okay with this.”

“I take it you are not.”

I crossed my arms. “No. I isn’t.”

Bloody poop, I wished I hadn’t adopted this goddessawful accent for Janita. I was having a helluva time remembering how she spoke today. I was a mess. My head was a swirl of questions.

I wanted to storm Olympus and demand Themis give me answers now.

The water at my tail frothed. Realizing I was about to lose control, I took several swallowing breaths. I would not level my daughter-in-law’s home.

“Last we spoke about this, Harold had done something to land himself into trouble. Has it not worked itself out yet?”

“Obviously not, or I’d not be grumping.” Remembering my manners, I hurriedly cleared my throat. “Pardoning my manners, miss.”