Chapter 36

Hades

The Cauldron was loud, dark, and overcrowded.

“It’s a light crowd tonight.” Persephone made that observation on our way into the club.

We clearly had a different definition of what constituted a light crowd. As we entered the club, I sensed the effects of the dampening spells. Many couldn’t feel them, but for me, it was as if my power was being drained from my body. I could still feel it close by, but I couldn’t access it. The sensation was disturbing, and I was tempted to grab Persephone and race back out of the club. I didn’t like being without my magic. It’s not that I was incapable of defending myself without it so much as it was a part of me.

Once I recovered from the jarring sensation caused by the dampening spell, I found that Persephone had a hand on my arm as she murmured nonsense words meant to soothe me.

“I’m fine,” I assured her with a slight smile.

“It was strange for me the first time I walked in here,” she told me. “This was the strongest dampening spell I’d ever experienced, and I felt like there was a part of me missing.”

Her description brought a smile to my face. It was comforting to know I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. “I’ll bet you recovered as soon as you got distracted by all the new things in here.”

“I did,” she agreed happily before looking out at the club. “We seem to have attracted an audience.”

Sure enough, the club seemed much quieter, and the patrons were gawking at us. It wasn’t often I was considered more interesting than Lucifer, but he’d been to the club before, whereas I was seldom seen outside the demon realm.

“I need a drink,” was all I could think to say as I led Persephone to the bar with a hand on her lower back. I was glad they had a decent whiskey selection. Persephone ordered some pink drink that looked like it had glitter in it.

“How can you keep drinking those things?” Beatrice asked her.

“You drink them, too,” Persephone pointed out as she gestured to Beatrice’s drink.

“You ordered it for me,” was Beatrice’s argument.

Persephone wasn’t about to take the blame. “I don’t force you to drink them. You already know that, if you don’t drink it, I will. You could always go and order your own drink.”

“Good point,” Lucifer agreed. “I’ve only seen you with glittery drinks when we come here.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes. “Fine. I like the stupid frilly drinks. They’re delicious. I just wish they didn’t look like this.”

Persephone looked around and frowned. “We’ll have to wait for a table with four seats to open up.”

I grinned and shook my head. “I’ll take care of this. There are times when being a scary bastard is useful.”

I walked across to a table where two men were seated. They were talking and scanning the room, probably checking out the single women. Based on the horns on one, I assumed they were both demons of some sort, which was good since it meant they’d immediately recognize me. I said nothing as I took a seat between them. All conversation stopped. It didn’t take long for the guys sitting at the table to decide they wanted to sit at the bar.

When I turned to grin at Persephone, I found her scowling at me with her arms crossed in front of her chest. I crooked a finger, still grinning. It wasn’t that I was so arrogant I thought Persephone should come to me when I beckoned. I was hoping to get a rise out of her because I wanted to see if I could push my witch to use profanity again.

She stomped toward me, looking thoroughly pissed. “There is a difference between being a bully and being a badass,” was all she said before waiting for a response.

I let out a sigh. “Aren’t you going to call me an asshole?”

“What?” she asked, shaking her head in confusion.

“I think he’s trying to push you into using profanity,” Beatrice suggested as she joined us.

“That’s insane,” Persephone replied.

“Let’s dance,” Lucifer told Beatrice. When she nodded, he placed a hand on her lower back and led her to the dancefloor.

I ignored them and focused on Persephone. “I’m insane,” I reminded her. “So, are you going to yell at me because I was acting like a bully?”

She shook her head and took a seat at the table. “I have no intention of rewarding this behavior.” She took a sip of her drink and smiled.

Leaning in, I whispered close to her ear, “I’ll bet I could make you say some very dirty words.”

Rather than blushing or insisting I was wrong, Persephone shocked me by saying, “I’m sure you could, but I can guarantee it won’t be because I’m angry.”

My eyes darkened when I asked, “What would it take to make you curse at me?”

“I didn’t say I’d curse at you,” she pointed out. “I said I’d use dirty words under the right circumstances. We’d both be wearing substantially less clothing—probably nothing at all.”

“Fuck me,” I uttered. “Maybe we should talk about something else.”

“For now,” she agreed.