A Touch of Chaos (Hades x Persephone Saga Book 7)

Hades manifested in a dark room within his palace where Hermes had taken up residence. He was immediately hit with the sound of the god’s guttural snoring. It was so loud, it vibrated the air around him, and he wondered if Hermes was actually breathing.

Hades summoned light in the fireplace and the sconces on the walls, but Hermes didn’t even flinch.

“Hermes!” Hades’s voice thundered in the small room, but the god did not startle.

He probably cannot hear me over the sound of his own snoring, Hades thought.

He approached the bed on which Hermes lay starfished on his stomach.

“Hermes!” he said again.

Then he grasped the coverlet and pulled it off.

“Fucking Fates,” he muttered.

Hermes was naked.

Of course he was naked.

Hades summoned a splash of ice-cold water. As it hit his bare back, Hermes screamed. It was the same high-pitched tone he’d managed while on Ares’s island. He rolled onto his back and somehow managed to jump to his feet. He looked as if he were ready for a fight.

Hades tossed him the blanket, and Hermes grabbed it, hugging it to his front.

“What the fuck, Hades,” he snapped. “A gentle shake would have sufficed.”

“I am not interested in being gentle with you.”

“Oh, come on,” he groaned. “Now you’re just fucking with me.”

“I am not fucking with you.”

“Yes, you are,” he hissed. “Don’t you know how sexual that sounds?”

“No,” Hades said.

“Liar,” Hermes said and then collapsed to the bed. “I am assuming you are not here to ravish me, so what do you want? I was sleeping so well.”

“It certainly didn’t sound that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I could hear you snoring from my chambers.”

“I do not snore!”

“Oh, you most certainly do. Loudly. It shook the very ground beneath my feet.”

Hermes glared. “I hate you.”

Hades chuckled.

“If I am snoring, it’s your fault. This bed is like a fucking rock. Sephy’s going to have back problems if she sleeps here.”

“The bed is perfectly comfortable,” Hades said. “And you are overly concerned for my wife.”

“Of course I am. She has to deal with you.”

Hades rolled his eyes.

“I need you to summon Ilias and Apollo within the hour.”

“No,” Hermes said.

Hades lifted a brow. “No?”

“What about I have no powers don’t you understand?”

“You have no power, but you are a divine messenger and part of this war.”

“Why can’t you summon them?”

“I have other matters to attend to,” he said.

“I hope it’s trimming that gods-awful beard.”

That was exactly the matter at hand. He also wanted to bathe. There were just some things glamour couldn’t replace.

“Even if that is the case—and it should be the case—you can summon Ilias and Apollo and shave faster than I can leave the Underworld.”

There was a brief moment of silence, and then Hades spoke. “Fine. I suppose I can just…send an email.”

Hermes gasped. “You wouldn’t.”

Hades shrugged. “You have given me no choice.”

“After all I’ve done,” Hermes said, throwing off his blanket. He jumped from the bed and started searching the floor for something. Hades hoped it was clothes.

“If you are still referring to Ares’s island—”

“I’m talking about being your best friend!” Hermes said. “But best friends don’t use their archenemy, do they? No. You know what’s so fucking stupid about email? There are faster ways to communicate! Phones! You could just text! But you are so old, you don’t even know that!”

Hades blinked slowly. “Are you finished?”

Hermes was still red in the face and breathing hard. “No,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his chest, but he said nothing.

“I am well aware that cell phones exist. I have one, yet who have I always relied on to deliver my messages? You.”

“Don’t make me feel guilty. I am powerless!”

Hades narrowed his eyes. “There is more to being a god than power, Hermes.”

“That is easy for you to say. When were you last without power?”

“In the labyrinth,” Hades replied.

Hermes’s face fell, and he paled. “Hades, I’m sorry. I—” He paused and then scrubbed his face with both hands. “Fine, I’ll summon Ilias and Apollo, but can you at least teleport me? I have no interest in trekking across the Underworld again.”

“Of course,” Hades said, his magic rising to meet the god’s demand.

“Wait! Let me get dress—”

But before Hermes could finish speaking, he vanished.

Hades had sent him to the mortal world completely naked.

Perhaps, Hades thought, it would give the media something else to talk about in the midst of the scandal Dionysus had caused.

Hades sighed.

Suddenly, his head hurt.

Hermes was fucking exhausting.

Hades returned to his chambers where he showered and shaved. Once he was dressed, he waited in his office for his allies to arrive. He had even poured a glass of whiskey, though it sat on his desk, untouched. While he might look like himself, he had never felt more different. It was hard to say exactly how he had changed. He only knew that in the coming days, weeks, and months, he would come to understand the full impact of his imprisonment, the same way he had when he’d been freed from his father.

He dreaded how it would manifest and mostly how it would affect Persephone, who was already dealing with her own trauma from her experiences with Theseus and Demeter. Now she was going to have to deal with what had happened in the labyrinth too.

He knew she was not well.

He could see it in her face and feel it in her energy, but mostly, he knew because of the things she’d said when she’d dissolved into tears in his arms. As he held her, he was acutely aware of how he had not managed to chase away her grief, how he’d left her vulnerable, how he had failed her.

He had brought her into this world, and he had not prepared her, believing that he could protect her from every evil thing, but in the end, he had saved her from nothing.

In the end, she had saved him from everything.

As he worried over what he had done, the mistakes he had made, he looked down at the glass on his desk, noticing a ripple in the amber liquid.

He frowned and then looked up just as the door burst open.

Ilias stood there, wide-eyed and wheezing. He had been running. When he saw Hades, he froze for a moment and then let out an odd, breathy laugh.

“You’re back.”

Hades hesitated. He did not know how to respond. He had not expected Ilias to seem so…relieved by his return. It made his chest feel tight.

Hades’s smile was brief and sincere.

“I am,” he said with a small nod. “What news?”

“Nothing good,” said Ilias. “Theseus made a public appeal for mortals to withdraw worship. He claims a god is responsible for the abduction of his wife and child.”

Ilias spoke as if he did not believe the demigod.

“Did he release the name?” Hades asked.

“What?” Ilias asked, surprised by his question. “You don’t really think…”

Hades just stared, and Ilias’s eyes widened as reality set in.

“He did not,” the satyr confirmed. “Hades, you didn’t—”

“No,” he said. “Dionysus.”

Ilias curled his fingers into fists. Hades understood the frustration. Dionysus’s actions did not just affect him and his territory. They affected all gods.

“Still, he must have a death wish to invoke the wrath of the gods.”

“On the contrary,” Hades said, looking out the windows. From where he stood, all that was visible was a swath of green trees shrouded in mist. “Theseus is feeling pretty invincible at the moment. He has managed to lull Zeus into eternal sleep and steal his lightning bolt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me Zeus was asleep?” Hermes demanded.

Hades turned to see that the god had arrived with Apollo.

“I guess he has to die before we get our powers back,” said Apollo as Aphrodite, Harmonia, and Sybil entered the room. “Fuck!”

“At this rate, you may get your wish,” said Hades. “We know Theseus intends to sacrifice Zeus to Cronos.”

“Unless we rescue him,” said Harmonia.

“Now let’s not get too crazy,” said Hermes, glancing around the room. “I mean, does anyone actually want to see Zeus free?”

“I did not say to wake him from slumber,” said Harmonia. “But is it right to leave him with our enemy?”

“I think what Harmonia means is that we should capture and imprison Zeus ourselves,” said Aphrodite, her eyes darting to the corner of the room where Hephaestus had manifested, his smoldering eyes holding hers. “Then at least he cannot be used by Theseus.”

Hades had not considered rescuing Zeus. He had come to accept that his youngest brother would die at the hands of their father, and he had no wish to stop it even if it meant Cronos aligning with Theseus.

It was still possible that one of the two remaining Hecatoncheires would free Zeus as their brother Briareus had done before—unless, of course, Hera also had them murdered.

After this meeting, Hades would have to send Ilias to warn the hundred-handed ones.

“It is nice to know the meeting has started without us,” said Dionysus, entering with Ariadne. They had clearly come straight from the baths. The ends of Dionysus’s hair dripped water on the floor while Ariadne’s was plastered to her head.

“Maybe you would’ve been on time if you hadn’t been fucking,” said Hermes.

“I believe Dionysus and Ariadne are right on time,” said Persephone as she entered the room.

Hades straightened, his eyes locked with hers as she approached. “Forgive me,” he said. Taking her hand, he brushed his lips across her knuckles. “Our conversation got out of hand.”

She smiled at him. “You are forgiven,” she said and turned her attention to the group. “Did I hear right? Are we discussing rescuing Zeus?”

“Rescuing Zeus does not neutralize the threat of Cronos,” said Hades. “Theseus has other bargaining chips, among them the lightning bolt and my helm.”

There was a heavy pause as the news settled on those who had not yet heard that two of the greatest Olympian weapons were now in the hands of their enemy.

Hades continued. “For now, I suggest we focus on Theseus. He has the most power, and he has weapons that can kill us. He must be stopped first.”

“I’m just going to throw this out there,” said Apollo. “But what if…we assassinate him?”

“If it were so easy, we would have already done so,” Hades snapped. “Theseus has endeared himself to the public, and as of today, they see him as a victim. If he goes down at the height of his popularity, Triad and the Impious will ensure the gods are blamed.”

“If Theseus has the world believing his wife and child were abducted by a god, then can’t his wife simply tell the world otherwise?” asked Ilias.

“No,” Ariadne said sharply. “Unless Theseus is subdued or dead, you cannot ask that of her. It is too dangerous.”

“Do you not trust us to protect her?” Aphrodite asked.

“Forgive me, but you all pointed out how Theseus is just as much of a threat to you as he is to everyone,” Ariadne said. “So no.”

“Yet you have no trouble leeching off our kindness and accepting our protection.”

“Aphrodite,” Dionysus warned as Hephaestus loomed behind the Goddess of Love.

“I don’t recall you having anything to do with this,” Ariadne returned.

“Stop,” Persephone commanded. Her voice was like a whip and struck them all silent. “If Theseus does not kill us first, then infighting will. Kindness and protection should not have to be repaid. If Phaedra wishes to make a statement, she can, but it should be her decision and no one else’s.”

Persephone’s eyes grew brighter as she spoke, and she glared at Aphrodite and then Ariadne. Hades straightened, his slacks suddenly too tight.

Fuck, his wife was hot.

“There are other ways to discredit Theseus,” said Hades. “We must choose something that will force him to show his true nature publicly.”

“I can investigate his background,” Sybil suggested. “Perhaps there is something in his past that will—”

“You won’t find anything,” said Ariadne.

“No man is without secrets,” Aphrodite countered.

“Do you not think I have tried to dig up dirt on this man?” Ariadne snapped.

“I imagine you have put in the effort, but you are only a mortal after all.”

“I might be mortal, but I know this man,” she said. “If he has secrets, they die with the people he told.”

“You’re still alive,” Aphrodite countered.

“I’m alive because I can weave his fucking nets.”

“You wove the nets?” Dionysus asked, just as surprised as everyone else—except Persephone, apparently, because when Hades looked at her to gauge her reaction, her face had turned rosy with guilt.

“Why do you think he wants me so badly?” Ariadne asked.

There was a beat of silence.

“I could hold funeral games,” said Aphrodite. “For Adonis, Tyche, Hypnos, and those who died during the attack at Talaria Stadium. It would force the world to see and acknowledge what the Impious and Triad have done and take a side.”

Funeral games were almost always held in the aftermath of great loss and were a series of athletic competitions. While they were meant to distract from grief, these would likely only encourage a deeper divide between the Faithful and the Impious.

At the mention of the stadium, Persephone placed a hand over her shoulder. She had been shot during the scuffle, and while she had healed, Hades would never forget the sight of her blood.

“No,” Hephaestus said immediately.

There was a finality to his tone that told Hades there would likely be consequences to contradicting him. He was about to suggest that he could host when Aphrodite turned to glare at her husband.

“You are only saying that because I mentioned Adonis.”

Hephaestus did not flinch. His large arms were crossed over his chest.

“You have already been targeted by Triad,” said Hephaestus. “If you host the games, you will only draw more attention to yourself, and you are powerless.”

“The point is to force them to act publicly,” said Aphrodite. “They wanted my attention, and now they have it.”

“You will not,” he said. “I will not let you.”

“You will not let me?” Aphrodite repeated. “Since when have I required your permission for anything?”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he said.

“What is this? Some feeble attempt to act like my husband? You let me out of those obligations a long time ago, remember?”

Hephaestus towered over her, narrowing his eyes. “Do not act as if you were not eager to be free of me.”

“You call this free?”

“Why don’t you both just fuck and get it over with?” asked Hermes.

Aphrodite whirled on Hermes. “I will murder you!”

“Point and case,” said the god.

“It’s case in point, Hermes,” said Sybil.

“If we hold funeral games for Tyche and Hypnos,” said Apollo, “we communicate to the entire world that Theseus has found a way to murder us all.”

“That is better than letting Theseus do it,” said Sybil. “At least then you have control over the narrative.”

“And what narrative is that?” Apollo asked. “That Theseus is more powerful than the Olympians?”

“That Theseus murdered innocent gods,” Sybil replied.

“If that is true, then has he fulfilled the prophecy of the ophiotaurus?” asked Dionysus.

“We will know come nightfall,” said Hades.

If the prophecy had been satisfied, then the ophiotaurus would return to the sky as a constellation, but Hades was not hopeful.

“Holding funeral games may help our favor with mortals, but it does not solve the problem of Theseus,” said Dionysus.

“Unless he dies during the games,” said Apollo.

“That would be a violation of the rules,” said Harmonia.

Which was true. It was traditional for warring sides to declare a cease-fire. The games were supposed to be a time to celebrate life, not encourage more violence.

“Given the circumstances, the last thing I would concern myself with are rules,” said Hades.

“I thought you were worried about public perception,” said Sybil. “If you kill Theseus during a cease-fire, you will only prove him right.”

“Do not make the mistake of thinking Theseus will fight fair,” Hades said.

“Can we be sure he will even attend the games?” Persephone asked.

“He will attend,” said Ariadne. “He will want to defend himself against Aphrodite’s accusations.”

Hades could feel Hephaestus’s anger spike. That was exactly what the god feared.

A tense silence followed.

“So this is your plan?” asked Dionysus. “Execute Theseus publicly and then what? He has an army of demigods with weapons that can kill us.”

“Then we attend armed and assume the games will end in battle.”

No one spoke, not in favor or opposition, but Hades knew they had to do something. Theseus’s plans were already in motion. They had been from the moment he’d requested a favor from Hades in exchange for Sisyphus. That favor was his access to the Underworld—to his helm and to Hypnos. Zeus’s slumber was just another phase, and now that Theseus was in possession of the lightning bolt, Hades dreaded discovering what came next.

He hoped he didn’t have to find out.

“Make the announcement, Aphrodite,” he said.

The Goddess of Love cast an angry gaze at her husband before departing. Harmonia followed, and so did Sybil. Slowly, the others left, save Hephaestus, who lingered, his eyes trained on Hades.

“I will leave you,” Persephone said.

Hades hated to lose her warmth, but he did not argue.

Once she was gone and the door was closed, Hephaestus spoke.

“You would have never let your wife risk herself in such a way,” said the god. “Why let mine?”

“What I know about our wives is that they will do what they want despite our wishes,” said Hades, though it had taken him too long to realize that. “I’d rather walk in Persephone’s shadow, ready to save her at the first sign of a threat, than have her keep secrets. I know you feel the same.”

Hephaestus’s jaw ticked, and he looked away.

“If Aphrodite could become the sun, she would, just to be rid of my shadow,” said the god.

“That is not true,” Hades said.

Hephaestus met Hades’s gaze. “We will agree to disagree,” he said with a small, sad smile. “Come to Lemnos tomorrow. I will arm the gods.”

With that, Hephaestus vanished.