Page 15 of Bride of Death (Netherworld Fae #1)

Maliki

I pace the small living space, too agitated to sleep. Especially after Morpheus mindfucked me with that dream.

Bloody God .

I don’t know him well, our interactions having always been brief. And he’s never drowned me in his power before.

Until tonight.

I shiver, the sensation of sharp vines still slithering along my skin. The hour-long shower I took didn’t help. Neither did the jog I just went on around the village. And the ice bath I took after also did nothing to rid me of the discomfort left behind by his nightmare.

Growling, I rub my hand over my face and resume pacing.

I could try to drink myself into a stupor, but that would leave Sera unguarded.

Not an option.

I heard her calling for “Pip” shortly after returning to her hut. And I’m still waiting for that bastard fae to arrive so I can have some words.

Thus far, nothing.

And Sera is now asleep.

I only know that because I popped over to check on her when things went silent—I expected to find this infamous “Pip.” Then I stayed to ensure Morpheus wasn’t fucking with her dreams. Only after I was sure did I go on my jog.

But now I can’t rest.

Between this “Pip” fucker and Morpheus, I have my hands full with babysitting my little mystery.

I palm the back of my neck and give it a squeeze, my muscles tight with irritation.

That fucking feeling of knives against my skin makes me twitch, too.

I’ve tortured a lot of fae. Maybe Morpheus assumed this was my due. Or perhaps he dug that trap up from some dark place in my mind.

Regardless, I hate this experience.

And I fucking loathe Morpheus.

“You look ready to spar,” a deep voice muses, preceding Hades’s arrival in my personal space.

I turn toward him. “If you’ve come to chastise me, save it. I’m not in the mood.”

He arches a brow. “No, you appear to be in a very different kind of mood. One that usually leads to dark decisions and delicious dealings.”

“I’m not fucking anyone for you tonight,” I tell him through my teeth. “If you want to get off, go find another pet to play with.”

“My, but it seems my cousin has thoroughly infuriated you.”

I glare at him. “I mean it, Hades. Fuck. Off.” I know better than to disrespect a God, let alone the God of my kingdom, but I’ve had a really long bloody night, my skin is still stinging with the memories of that dream, and I’ve been stuck babysitting a forbidden fruit for the better part of a year.

Yeah, I’m in a bad mood.

And I’m really fucking tired of being treated like a minion. A toy. A fae to be ordered about and discarded without a care.

I resume my pacing, ignoring Hades as he sits on Tank’s couch.

It’s a tiny love seat made of faux leather.

The God of Death probably looks ridiculous on it, his six-foot-four height and muscular form no doubt overtaking the small furniture.

I barely fit on it at six foot two, and I’m a little less bulky than him.

Hopefully, he’s uncomfortable.

Though, I doubt it’s anything like that fucking seaweed moss Morpheus threw me into.

“Maliki,” Hades says calmly.

I grunt. I told him to leave. Not my fault he chose to stay.

“I’m not going to chastise you,” he adds.

I snort. Because I don’t give a Styx, not with the electric currents traveling up my arms. It’s like getting zapped by eels. Coupled with the leftover knife-prick sensations, I’m just living the dream over here.

Fucking literally .

After several moments of silence—whereby I stalk back and forth while Hades watches—he finally says, “I have something that can help remove the rest of Morpheus’s spell. Would you like it?”

I slowly pause, then rotate toward him. “Is there a reason you didn’t lead with that upon arrival?”

“I was enjoying this edgy side of you. It’s not every day a Netherworld Fae talks to me like I’m an equal.”

My gaze narrows at his term. Netherworld Fae encompasses all of the kingdom, including Death Fae and Corpse Fae. It’s a locational term more than a species term.

And he knows full well I’m a combination of several breeds. At least on my father’s side.

“I’m not your ordinary Netherworld Fae,” I tell him.

He smiles. “No, you’re not. You’re quite extraordinary, Maliki.” He holds up his hand. “Here.”

I stare as he reveals a plain gold coin in his palm. “Am I supposed to eat that?”

A mirthless chuckle leaves him. “No. Just set it on your wrist.”

My gaze narrows. “This feels like a trap.”

“Because you know me well. But I promise this will dispel Morpheus’s touch and keep him from bothering you again.”

I study him for a long moment.

“It’s not like you to turn down a daring opportunity,” he murmurs.

He’s not wrong. But I’m not exactly feeling like my usual self right now.

Though, maybe this is the pick-me-up that I need.

Or perhaps it’ll make it worse.

Styx it , I think, grabbing the coin.

Energy instantly hums across my skin, canceling out the residual irritation left behind by Morpheus’s mindfuck.

Only it comes at a clear price as the gold coin dissolves into my skin, just like my tattoos often do when I use them to manifest shadows.

My jaw ticks as my blood heats, Hades’s presence surrounding me in an invisible fog that I can sense with every fiber of my being.

I sigh as I look into his fathomless dark eyes. “Do I even want to know what you just did to me?”

He shrugs. “Probably not.”

I shake my head. “How much is this going to cost me?”

“Nothing but loyalty,” he says. “Which I don’t foresee as being a problem.” He pushes up off the couch.

I don’t move out of his way, so we end up chest to chest. Bowing to him is a natural response for most fae. But not for me. “Do you want me to thank you?”

“No.”

“Good. Because I wouldn’t have needed whatever antidote you just gave me if you would handle your own mate.”

He nods. “A fair assessment.”

I arch a brow. “Oh? Does that mean you’re finally going to talk to her?”

“That does seem to be the advice of everyone in my life. You, Orcus, Morpheus.” He grimaces. “Do you have any idea what he did to her?”

I assume he’s referring to Morpheus and Sera, as Orcus hasn’t been anywhere near here since helping Sera move into her hut. “I’m not sure what they discussed, but from what I could tell, all they did was meet in the courtyard.”

Hades hums. “You know, he didn’t say much to me during his visit tonight. A strange thing for Morpheus, as he loves to chat. But he told me three things.”

I stare at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“First, he informed me that he introduced himself to my bride. Then he stated that he’s done waiting for me to grow a knot. And before I could even begin to react to that insult, he told me not to kill you because you’re perfect for our mate-circle.”

His dark eyes burn into mine, his dominance an aura that threatens to force me into submission.

I didn’t miss the hint of fury that entered his tone and expression as he uttered the third item. I’m familiar with mate-circles. Many fae have them, including Hades’s brother Orcus.

It’s not uncommon for a male mate-circle to form around a single female. There are just more men than women in our world.

But Hades is too possessive to form a mate-circle. He’s been devoted to Persephone and only Persephone for over two thousand years.

Oh, he’ll watch me play, his voyeuristic tendencies enough to satisfy his needs. But he never touches. Nor does he ever engage. Which is fine with me. I tend to prefer women. And I happen to enjoy putting on performances for others, too. It works for us.

However, I sense the possessiveness pouring off him in waves. He doesn’t like the suggestion of me being in his mate-circle.

Or perhaps it’s the use of the word our from Morpheus, indicating that not only does one already exist, but that Morpheus is involved as well.

“Is there something you want to ask me, Hades?”

“No. My coin told me all I need to know,” he answers cryptically.

My eyes narrow a bit. “So that was a loyalty test?”

“More like a reward for loyalty,” he murmurs while fixing his suit jacket. We’re standing so close that his knuckles brush my chest.

Normally, I would step backward. But I’m not yielding to him.

Not today, anyway.

“It’s an ancient relic, one that I should have given you a long time ago,” he adds, still as cryptic as ever. Then he promptly changes the topic by saying, “When you see Morpheus again, remind him that Persephone is mine.”

“I don’t think he cares about your claim.”

“Tell him anyway.”

I shrug. “Fine.”

He stares down at me, gaze intense. “Is there anything you want to say to me, Maliki?” he asks after a long beat of silence.

“Would it matter if I did?” I counter. “I’ve mentioned my thoughts on Serapina several times, yet you’ve made it clear that my opinion doesn’t matter. She’s your mate. You’ll handle the situation however you see fit.”

“I will,” he agrees. “But you’re wrong about your opinions. They matter a great deal to me.”

I scoff at that. “If that were true, then this wouldn’t be your first time visiting me here in the Netherworld Village.”

One dark eyebrow wings upward. “Who says this is the first time?” He glances around. “Besides, there isn’t much to see here. The accommodations are rather drab.”

“Tank isn’t fond of interior decorating,” I deadpan.

“Tank?”

“The Death Fae I had to bribe so I could watch your mate,” I mutter, finally taking a step away from him as exhaustion starts to creep in. I won’t be able to sleep— thanks, Morpheus —but I can at least relax.

Stepping around him, I take over the love seat.

Hades remains standing but rotates toward me, his gaze assessing. “Are you disliking this assignment?” he asks after another beat of silence.

I pick up the controller from the table beside me and aim it at the painting across from the couch. The flowery facade melts away to reveal a screen that has access to channels in various realms throughout the universe.

Naturally, I select the Human Realm. Their assassin movies are the best in all the worlds, mostly because they don’t shy away from the blood and gore.

Hades shifts again, glancing at the screen and rolling his eyes. “Can you at least answer my question before the shooting starts?”

“I’m still considering my answer,” I tell him, my focus going to the screen as the movie opens. “I like Sera.” That’s an understatement. I’m pretty sure I more than like her, but I don’t really want to get into that right now. “Protecting her isn’t an issue.”

“Then what is the issue?” he presses.

“You already know the answer to that, my lord .” Well-timed bullets are fired from a gun while I utter that formal address, making my lips curl a bit.

Fitting, I think.

Then, out loud, I add, “If you want to marry her, you’re going to have put forth more effort. If you don’t believe me, ask me what happened in the Den tonight.”

I doubt he’s heard the news yet; he rarely converses with anyone outside of his palace walls.

An explosion sounds from the speakers embedded in the wall, causing me to turn the volume down. I don’t want to risk startling Sera with my movie obsession.

“Tell me,” Hades demands.

I meet his simmering gaze and say, “She announced to the entire Den that she is not mating you. When she used your name, they warned her you might appear, so she started shouting it.” Which I found hilarious as fuck.

But I don’t add that part out loud. It’s not needed.

My enjoyment is absolutely evident in my tone.

I go on to tell him how the patrons drank themselves into a stupor because she insisted on working and demanded they all order drinks, not realizing they would take her words as an order, not a request.

And how she eventually released the poor sods from their plight once she understood what she’d done.

“Did she see the invitation?” he asks quietly, causing me to arch a brow.

“Yes. Why?”

“How did she react to it?” His soft tone suggests this question is important to him.

So I answer him bluntly. “By stating that she doesn’t have a middle name and telling everyone she’s not mating you.”

His lips curl down. “No hint of recognition?”

“Well, I think she recognized your name, if that’s what you mean.

But otherwise, no. She was… I think she was mad.

Or maybe fed up?” I shrug, my attention drifting back to the screen.

“Whatever the emotion, it was hot. She certainly reminded me of a queen.” Which Gnarls called her at one point—yet another amusing moment from the night.

“You’re enjoying this,” Hades remarks.

“I told you, I like Sera. So the assignment of guarding her is fine. The task of convincing her to marry you, though, fucking sucks.”

Hades falls silent.

Then he begins moving around my space.

I finally glance his way when I hear the fridge open.

“There’s a pack of blood ale on the bottom shelf,” I tell him, aware that’s his favorite beverage. I bought it when I first moved in, guessing that he might visit.

He grabs one, as well as a spider ale for me, then takes over the tiny recliner to my right.

Neither of us speaks; we just watch the film.

Our friendship, or whatever this is called, is abnormal. But he’s one of the few fae I allow into my personal space. He’s typically respectful of my need for quiet.

It isn’t until the end of the movie that he finally says, “That was dreadful.”

I huff out a laugh. “You wanted more of them to die, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” A flat answer.

I shake my head, still laughing. “The sequel is better.”

“I doubt it.”

My shoulder lifts into a partial shrug. “To each his own, my lord.”

“Stop calling me that.”

I take a page out of his book and simply reply, “No.”

His jaw clenches, his indignation painting a humorous picture, especially as he’s still all buttoned up in that suit while looking ridiculously large in that tiny recliner. “I’ll talk to her,” he says.

“Her who?” I ask, playing dumb.

The look he casts my way would cause most men to shrivel in place.

I merely smile. “About fucking time, my lord . Please tell me it’ll be soon.”

He casts me a withering look and stands. “Good night, Maliki.”

He disappears before I can reply.

“So it won’t be tonight,” I mutter. “Great.”

I pull up the sequel I mentioned and hit Play.

Nothing like a bloodbath to calm my soul…