Goddess Interrupted
Page 33

“No one can hurt me anymore.”
I had no idea if that was true, if Cronus could attack the dead like he attacked us, but it didn’t matter. As long as Cronus held to his end of our bargain, we wouldn’t see him again until we were ready. It wasn’t a very reliable set of circumstances, but it was better than nothing.
“Who is she?” said Persephone, nodding at me.
James gave me a warning look, but I stepped forward before he could answer. “Henry was going to let himself fade because of you,” I said with more bite than I intended.
“He couldn’t rule the Underworld alone, so I married him.” Persephone stared at me as if she could see right through me. It was unnerving, but I held my head high and stared back, refusing to let her get to me. She was under my skin enough already as it was.
After a long moment, she turned toward the cottage door and nodded stiff ly for us to follow. The three of us trailed after her, Ava reluctantly so, and James gave me another look. I ignored that one, too.
The inside of her one-room cottage was cozier than I’d expected. A hundred different kinds of f lowers hung from the ceiling, sorted by family and color, and I immediately felt at home. As I breathed in the heavenly scent, the tension in the air seemed to melt away. My mother had made exquisite bouquets for every occasion in New York, and by the time I was ten, businessmen paid exorbitant amounts for one of her arrangements. Before I was old enough to take much of an interest though, she got sick, and after her second round of chemotherapy, she had to sell the business.
Apparently cancer hadn’t gotten in the way of her teaching Persephone.
Persephone gestured for us to take a seat in one of the two chairs at the table, but James was the only one who accepted her invitation. I stood beside him, making a point of turning so I couldn’t see Adonis, and Ava lingered near the door.
“How long have you been ruling the Underworld?” said Persephone. She stood in the center of the room, her mouth set in a f irm line as she watched me. It was unsettling, but at least she’d let us in.
“I don’t,” I said. “Henry and I got married six months ago. I went away for the summer, and Cronus started attacking the day I came down here. There wasn’t time to f inish the ceremony.”
Persephone made a soft noise in the back of her throat, and her eyes narrowed. “Why do you call him Henry?” I blinked. That was the last question I’d expected. “Same reason you call him Hades, I guess. It’s what he told me to call him.”
“Greek names weren’t in style anymore,” said James.
“And Zeus decided it was best to keep a low prof ile after Rome fell, so we had to adapt. I’m called James now.
Aphrodite’s Ava. Hera was adamant about keeping a Greek name though—she went with Calliope, after her favorite Muse. It doesn’t stand out as much as ours did.” Persephone was silent. Adonis slipped beside her and looped his arm around her waist, but she didn’t budge. I couldn’t very well look away from her without being rude, so I gritted my teeth and tried to keep myself from blurting out something completely inappropriate.
“Seems the world’s moved on without me,” she said with a haughty little sniff.
“You shouldn’t act so surprised,” said James. He stretched his legs and toed off his boots. Persephone wrinkled her nose, but she didn’t say anything. “It’s been a thousand years. You wouldn’t recognize it if you went up there.” For a moment I thought I saw a f lash of regret pass across her face, and my stomach twisted unpleasantly. Had she decided she didn’t love Adonis as much as she thought she had? Was Ava right about Persephone’s loyalty, and had she grown tired of him and wanted to move on? I couldn’t see how, unless Adonis was nothing more than a pretty face.
A very pretty face, but still.
I didn’t have time to think about that for long. Persephone turned back to me, her blue eyes icy. “So what, he picked you out of the millions of people in the world—”
“Billions,” said James. “It’s been a while.” Persephone scowled. “The point stands. Why you?” Part of me wanted to avoid this as long as possible, but she was bound to ask questions, and if I was honest with her, there was a chance she would be willing to help. If she really was bored with Adonis, maybe we’d get lucky and she’d jump at a chance to go someplace new. Either way, lying to her or withholding information wasn’t going to help my cause.
“I wasn’t the f irst,” I said. “Eleven girls were tested before me over the past century. Calliope killed them before they had a chance, and—”
“Hera would never do that,” interrupted Persephone.
“Maybe if it was Zeus, but—”
“She’s in love with Henry,” I said. “After you left, she thought she’d have a chance, but he didn’t want to be with her, so she killed off the competition.” Persephone sniffed. “You survived. You must be something special. I bet Henry’s just cooing over you.” Maybe it was the way she said his name or the sarcasm dripping from her voice, but something inside of me snapped. This was impossible. I wasn’t going to stand around all day explaining everything to her when she wasn’t listening. I would never understand why Henry loved her so much, and if she couldn’t show me basic courtesy, I wasn’t going to bother, either.
“He’s only with me because I’m your sister,” I said hotly.