Page 10 of Love and Death (Tempting the Fates #4)

“Will you be checking in on Death upon your return?” he asks as soon as I move to squeeze by him.

I pause, glancing down at the armored god.

“That is no concern of yours.”

“Oh, but it is,” Deimos says smugly. “For, you see, while Hades may have seen fit to task you with his little mortal pet … he has left me in charge of Death himself. But, of course, you already knew this.”

I did not know this, and I have to fight to keep my face from betraying my surprise.

Why would Hades put Deimos of all beings in charge of Death’s body? Especially after he saw what I could do to him, or most creatures for that matter, given the necessary encouragement.

And worse still, why is such important information being kept from me?

Fury burns hot within me at the thought, but with it comes fear.

If Deimos is telling the truth, then it is possible Hades suspects that I can no longer be fully trusted.

The girl … he is testing me.

I should have realized it the moment he rescinded my role as her protector, and again when he reinstated it.

I cannot allow the king’s doubts about where my loyalties lie to be proven right, not yet. Not before I know the truth of it myself.

I must be careful, for the girl’s sake as well as my own.

“As I have already said, my business is my own. You will know my plans as soon as Hades deems it necessary for you to be included in them, and not a moment sooner.”

I glare down at Deimos, daring him to question me further. When he does not, I take my leave with a curt nod and step out into the main courtyard.

My boot heels click against the cold stone, the weight of Deimos’ words heavy upon me .

What reason have I given Hades to keep me in the dark about his plans? Especially those concerning Death.

Even last night can be explained away. I was acting on the king’s own orders to protect the girl at all costs … but even I know this is not entirely true.

Hades never meant for me to protect the mortal from him.

My mind races, but I am careful to keep my steps even and my shoulders squared as Deimos’ gaze continues to bore into the back of my head. There is little doubt in my mind that, despite him allowing me to leave, he will do everything in his power to find out what I am up to.

My pace quickens as soon as I am out of Deimos’ line of sight. I need to put as much distance between myself and the palace before he can have me followed.

As I make my way down into the sprawling city, I note the uneasy quiet that has settled over the typically bustling streets, and a tangible sense of foreboding seeps into my bones.

Armed men, of flesh and stone alike, patrol nearly every corner and alleyway as they eye the gods’ palace gates and windows warily.

What else do they know that I do not?

Now that I think of it, the very fact that Deimos dared question me, let alone challenge me again, should have set me more on edge than it did.

I do not fear him, but a self-aggrandizing god is not to be taken lightly, especially if he believes Hades is sanctioning his actions.

Turning down a narrow alley, I make my way slowly through the branching passageways. I am careful to choose my path forward as haphazardly as possible, often doubling back on myself as I check for any signs that I am being followed.

When the better part of an hour has passed, and there is still no sign that anyone has caught on to my movements, I finally start making my way toward Eros’ palace.

I am still on high alert by the time I squeeze myself into a shadowed, overgrown nook not far from the palace gates. Closing my eyes, I quiet myself until there is nothing left but the sounds of the city.

A leaf rustles, a soft breeze brushing it against another. A bird and her young twitter as she hops around the nest. A beetle scuttles across stone in its hurry to escape the open street.

But not a single footstep. Not a voice to be heard beyond those of the guards several streets away.

Once I am certain the coast is clear, I open my eyes and dart across the alley to duck behind the high walls of the pale god’s temporary home. For once, I do not fault the man for his lack of guards and locked doors.

Stealing my way through the courtyard, I push the main doors open and slip inside, closing them as gently as possible behind me. Allowing myself a small sigh of relief, I turn to begin my search.

My ears prick against the silence, the halls far too quiet for the likes of Eros and altogether uncomfortable for me. I move forward as stealthily as possible, my brow furrowing the deeper I go and the less I find.

If I did not know better, I would think this place had been long abandoned .

Just when I am about to give up my search, my ear twitches, catching the faint sound of muffled voices coming from somewhere off to my right. Changing direction, I sneak toward the voices, hardly daring to breathe as I carefully track the muffled sounds through the palace halls.

Still, I nearly lose them between several long pauses, but gradually, the whispers grow louder and louder until I find myself squeezing through a gap that leads into a well-hidden garden.

The lush greenery crushes in around me, distorting the voices in my ears and explaining why it was so hard to track them down. Even now, as close as I am, I find myself unable to make out who is speaking, let alone what is being said.

I debate whether or not to take whoever it is by surprise, but ultimately decide against it. The last thing I need is more hostility right now.

“Eros,” I call out, “is that you? Where is everyone?”

The voices fall silent for a long moment before a heavy curtain of rustling vines is drawn to reveal a young man and woman in a small clearing just beyond.

“Cerberus,” the woman gasps, her soft green eyes widening in shock, “to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?”

“I am looking for Eros,” I answer, ducking into the clearing to join them. “Where is he?”

She frowns slightly, glancing nervously up at the man beside her before turning back at me.

“How dare you step foot in this palace,” the man says before she has a chance to answer me, stepping protectively between us.

“After everything that has happened. After the king, your master , stole my wife from me. You must have a death wish to venture here without invitation. I swear, on all that I am, that I will not allow you or anyone else to take her from me again. Not as long as I still draw breath.”

“Calm down, I am not here for your wife,” I say, lifting my hands up in front of me, “nor do I approve of what was done to her and the other women. I simply need help finding—”

“You do not approve,” the man caws. “That is rich. And yet, you did what? Stood by and watched … As you have always done, and now you would seek our aid?”

I am taken aback by the vitriol in his tone, but I do not deny the truth of his words. I know that I deserve nothing less than the hate I see in his eyes. A hate that I have grown far too used to ignoring over the centuries.

A hate that I have had no choice but to disregard.

After all, how could anyone know the burden that I have carried all these years? How could they know the true extent of my bond to Hades and the Underworld?

I may be called a guardian, but it has been far too long since the title was anything more than that. Far too long since I have been more than a puppet at the mercy of the king’s hand.

“Please. I seek Eros, not for my own benefit, but for that of another,” I say, biting back my own frustrations. “Without his help, I fear the girl’s soul will—"

“Oh, so now you care about saving the souls of others,” the man laughs. “How much of a fool do you take me for? ”

“Girl?” the woman interjects.

“Lilia …”

“What girl? Whose soul are you speaking of?” Lilia repeats, ignoring the warning in her husband’s voice.

I hesitate for a moment before answering, “The mortal girl. The one called Hazel.”

“Hazel? Then … then she is still alive?”

I nod, appreciating the hopeful lilt that brightens her voice.

“Yes, at least for the time being. Do you know her?”

“Of course, she was one of the women held in the palace with me. I daresay everyone knows about her now. It is not often that a mortal walks among us, and for the first time in this city, let alone one who …” Lilia pauses, her mouth opening and closing a few times as if struggling to find the right words, before reluctantly finishing, “Well, let alone one quite like her.”

It is painfully obvious that she is keeping something from me. Something that could be important.

“What were you really going to say about her,” I say, trying to press a real answer from her as gently as I can.

“I cannot say.”

“I promise, you have nothing to fear from me.”

“Truly, I cannot say,” Lilia repeats, turning to give her husband a pleading look.

“I told you not to say anything.”

“Theo, please, I was only trying to help.”

I let out a low growl of frustration, my patience wearing thinner with each passing second.

“If it concerns the girl, then I must insist that you tell me— "

“We cannot,” her husband snaps. “It is forbidden.”

“Please, believe me when I say that I would tell you more if I could,” the woman says, an ache to her voice, “but, as you know, we are bound to secrecy over the mortal’s part in the king’s deal.”

“Lilia!”

“What does the mortal have to do with Hades’ deal?”

She clasps a hand over her mouth, and I get the impression that she is not supposed to be able to mention this little detail.

“It would appear something has changed since the deal bound your tongue,” I say carefully. “Please, just try.”

Lilia’s hands fidget, twisting nervously in her skirts, her face pale as if she is about to be sick.

“You are with child.”

“Yes.”

“Then, if not for the girl’s sake, try for that of your unborn child. I cannot protect you or the Underworld from a deal I, apparently, have not been told all the details of.”

“You do not have to answer him.”