Chapter Three

For the next week, I went to see Atros at the Rajama morning and night.

I wasn't even sure why either. I arrived and we had sex, then Atros would sit back and talk. It was strange the longer I listened to his deep voice. It was oddly attractive, especially with that lilting accent of his that I still couldn't quote pinpoint, something that rarely happened to me.

I'd learned that, when Gloria was kidnapped, she'd been pregnant with their son, whom Atros had hoped to name Tiberius. He went on for hours about what their son would have looked like, and he basically described Gloria as a male when he did. He would go on about how snarky Gloria was. I kept it to myself, but if I had been married to her... Well, I wouldn't be. She sounded awful, but Atros was obsessed with her, so I let him babble on for hours until it put me to sleep.

Even weirder, he never got angry with me when I slept in his room. He slept with me, then woke up and prepared for his next clients while I dressed and left for home.

I debated telling Persephone, but I figured she wouldn't want to know. Why would she? I didn't want to know who she was sleeping with on the side. So I figured it worked both ways, even though she kept asking what I was up to. I just lied and told her things were stressful, which wasn't entirely untrue.

As Theo and Cerberus had predicted, there was outrage over the hospital being built from half the city while the other half was excited. I'd even already received a hundred resumes from doctors and nurses hoping to work in the new facility as well as a few researchers. These people understood the building of a new hospital while the others merely saw it as a threat to what they thought was a normal life.

Because living in your own shit in a house that wasn't register with the city was normal life.

The people who'd been killed in the destruction of the homes to make room for the hospital, they hadn't registered the homes with the city to avoid paying their taxes and fees. No one could have known they were there, but it didn't matter to them. They saw it as right. They saw me as a monster.

Which I was, but that wasn't the point.

The point is that I was building a hospital, not a tennis court. They should be grateful for the opportunity. I could've just left them to rot in the streets. The hospital was a free clinic. The hospital would be completely funded by myself and all the workers paid by me. I couldn't see how this was a bad thing, but then, where I was concerned, everyone would fight to see the bad.

"You're scowling." Atros's voice drew me from my throat and I tilted my head up to glare at him past my hair. I had been resting between his legs, face resting against his stomach, but somehow, he'd managed to pick up on my feelings. Feelings I hadn't even paid any mind to. I was too busy cursing everything with a heartbeat.

"I was suddenly remember annoying people." I muttered. I had yet to tell Atros who I really was, and I intended to keep it that way. If I told him who I was, I'd be bored again. I enjoyed this mild source of entertainment, and the fact that I could have sex at long last was a bonus.

"To hell with them," He snorted, reaching down to stroke the hair back from my face, making me roll my eyes and shake my hair back, causing a smirk to curve the corner of his lips, "You are defiant in every sense of the word."

"Thanks, but I don't need you to tell me I'm awesome. I already know that." I assured, then rested my head against his stomach again, listening to the insides of him move accordingly. Atros was silent again as he ran his fingers through my hair, and I could see the glow in his eyes as he admired it. Part of me was annoyed that he liked my hair white. What was so wrong with black hair? It wasn't coarse or rough. If anything, my hair was just too silky. Maybe that was what was wrong. There was no point in complaining about it since he'd never know, so I went back to listening to his stomach make deep rumbles. A frown worked itself onto my face.

"You haven't eaten." I stated, realizing the sounds I'd been hearing were his stomach's way of protesting his attempt at starvation.

"I'm not hungry." Atros responded absently. I narrowed my eyes and lifted myself up to meet his eyes, leaning in close to his face. His eyes watched me intensely as I studied him before sitting back on my knees, reaching past him to grab my shirt up, slipping it on over my head. He frowned slowly.

"Leaving early?" He asked, glancing at the clock, which indicated it was almost noon. I shook my head, tossing my hair back out of my shirt before sliding to the edge of the bed.

"Get some clothes on. We're going out to eat."

"I think you're missing the part where I'm a whore and I'm not allowed to leave the property."

"Oh, trust me, that bitch is gonna let you leave." I assured him. Atros appeared skeptical, but he didn't argue as he climbed out of the bed and went to fetch his leather pants, then came to stand near me as I pulled my jeans up and zipped the fly shut. I paused to arch my brow.

"No shoes, no shirt, no service." I told him. Atros gave me a blank stare.

"Whores aren't required to have shoes or shirts. Or pants for that matter, but it gets cold here." He answered. I rolled my eyes, fed up with his constant reminder of what he was. I really did not care. I knew he was a whore, not a lover or a friend. I was his client and he was my way of getting off. We just happened to spend a lot more time together than most of his other clients did. However, I also had the right to change him to however suited my needs and right now, I wasn't in the mood to screw a man who could pass out from lack of food.

I shook my head at him and left the room with him in tow. We came into the lobby where a few of the whores were missing, probably off pleasing some clients. The owner, whose name I had yet to learn because I couldn't give two shits about it, turned to flash me another one of her flirty smiles that I brushed off.

"We're going out to eat. We'll be back shortly." I informed her without stopping. Her smile dropped instantly and she scurried out from behind her desk to block my path. Had I not been trying to protect my identity, I would have lopped her head off for daring to stop me.

"I'm afraid I cannot allow you to do that," She said quickly, "Unfortunately, my employees are required to stay on the property at all times. You know, runaways and whatnot." She laughed as if that last part was so silly, she couldn't fathom it. I saw a muscle in Atros's jaw twitch. I met the woman's eyes directly.

"Does hungry not mean anything to you?" I asked dryly. The woman smiled, but it was strained. Good, suffer because of me, bitch.

"We have a chef here who cooks them meals three times a day."

"Reddi-Whip and chocolate sauce don't count as meals."

"I beg your pardon," She sniffed, looking irritated now, "But we are a high-class establishment."

"And I pay you well over how much this whore is worth. I want to take him with me out to eat. You're going to let me or I'm going to have to contact Theo." I threatened her. She blanched, looking around quickly, afraid someone was listening in on us before she swallowed.

"You're not serious." She tried. I snorted.

"Dead serious. Step down. We'll be back shortly. I have no intention letting your slut run away. Then I'd have to chase him down. It's easier to just come here every day. I don't do well with hide-and-seek." I told her sternly. She swallowed and I saw the indecision before she reluctantly backed down and tried to give us a curfew of two in the afternoon, but fuck her curfew and fuck her too. I led the way out of the brothel and onto the street, just as an orphan boy --the same one as last time-- went fleeing past me from yet another group of angry men. I watched them go, then turned to Atros, who was staring around us as if he hadn't been outside in years.

He probably hadn't.

God, his occupation sucked. He should've just become a dirty hobo.

"I can't believe you managed to convince her." Atros said after a moment, sounding a bit distracted by the sights around him. I started down the street with him right beside me, his eyes darting around to take everything in the same way a child would when first seeing the world. Of course, it was no wonderland here. The drug shops still reeked and there was even a woman vomiting blood outside one of them before she fell face first into a gutter and a man ran past her to steal her wallet. There were some rogue prostitutes struggling to pick up clients.

Although, the city became more bearable the further we walked toward the restaurants. The people went from grimy drug addicts to upper-class citizens with children in tow and couples laughing as they held hands. The shops became newer and classier. The rich scent of exotic foods wafted through the air, the sound of foreign music echoing down the streets from stereos in the windows of apartments above shops. It was a much better part of the city. I rather preferred it to the shithole I visited often.

Unfortunately, the shithole had what I was looking for and the high-class part of the city only had coffee.

Of course, I couldn't take Atros for just coffee. He needed food, and coffee on an empty stomach would cause him to vomit and shake, especially if he was sensitive to it.

"What are you in the mood for?" I asked, scanning the shops before looking at Atros, pausing when he stopped in front of a shop window to stare inside at the televisions for sale that were displaying the recent news. A few other people were stopped to watch, a few drifting away, and a couple eyeing Atros like a piece of meat.

"Roll your fat tongue back in your mouth," I told one woman, who was staring at Atros's backside, and my words caused her to jump and glare at me, "Move along before I make you."

"You can't touch me. I'm a woman." She said haughtily, placing a fist on her hip. I looked her up and down and stifled a laugh as I turned to stand beside Atros, who watched with intrigue.

"Hardly." I told the woman, who made a sound of distraught before stomping off. I watched her go, then turned to Atros, who chuckled as he pretended to be engrossed in the news. I scowled.

"What's so funny? It's people dying." I added, gesturing to the screens. Atros shook his head, hooking his thumbs in the belt loops of his pants as he turned and headed down the street so I had to move quickly to catch up to him. I didn't approve of his constant smiling and debated dragging him back to the whorehouse. Was he laughing at me?

"You're adorable." Atros said after a while. I stopped walking, glaring at him.

"'Scuse me?" I asked. Atros turned to look at me, tilting his head.

"What? Your wife's never told you that?"

"Pfft, my own mother never told me that. Then again, she tried to kill me on several occasions. Maybe that was a bad example." I muttered. Atros studied me intensely as we began to walk again in silence down the street. There was a cold chill going up and down my spine at the mention of Rhea. She was like that Katy Perry song Persephone liked. One moment, she was telling me that everything would be all right, that we'd be home where we belonged, and the next she was informing me that she was going to slit my throat and hand my head over to Cronus.

Gee, thanks, mother. I share the sentiment.

"You don't talk about yourself much," Atros said suddenly, making me glance sideways at him, "I've told you everything about my wife, about what I did before. And yet, not once, have you mentioned your own family. Occasionally you mention your wife, but only in brief passing."

"I'm not a family man. My family is dead." I responded flatly.

"How did they die?"

"Accident in New York City."

"You're lying." Atros accused. I smirked, amused that he was the first person to pick up on my lie. Most people didn't want to ask. It made them uncomfortable and awkward, so they made up their own assumptions so they could justify their opinion of me. I was an evil bastard, which meant my parents had coddled me or abused me. Either way, I lost, so it didn't matter to me.

"There's nothing to talk about," I assured him, "There's no horrific sob story, no life altering experiences."

"What about your wife? She must be awfully accepting of your coarse personality and sleeping around with whores."

"Whore," I corrected him, making him arch a brow before I shrugged, "We don't discuss our other affairs. It'd just create awkward atmosphere... Hey, honey, how was your day? Oh, you slept with George Clooney again? That's cool. I'm sleeping with a whore I found in Styx... Yeah, that isn't awkward at all." Atros smirked at that. He was amused by me. He always was. We continued down the street and I let Atros take over the talking again. I wasn't fond of sharing, so I simply listened to him share his stories. There weren't nearly as entertaining as the fact that his wife was a slave in the war, then was forced to commit suicide to escape her torment. That was interesting. But aside from that, his life was very boring and drab. I had no idea how he could even stand it.

We eventually found ourselves walking into a relatively nice Greek restaurant. It was warm and cozy. We found a small two-person booth in a dark corner hidden by half-walls made of wood and heavily laced with grape vines. The place smelled of warm pita bread, lemons, and wine.

"What are you getting?" Atros asked as I studied the menu.

"Baklava." I replied. Atros gave me a droll stare.

"Desert?"

"Shut up, baklava's delicious. Who asked you anyway?"

"I'm going to get the yogurt and cucumber salad and the stuffed tomatoes. We can get the grape leaf appetizer to share."

"I told you I'm getting baklava."

"You forced me to come outside to eat. We're going to eat, not get you hyper on sugar."

"Oh, please. I've never been hyper once in my life," I scoffed at the mere idea, shaking my head as I shut the menu and set it aside to take a sip of the wine we'd ordered upon arrival, "Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to replace my blood with coffee." Atros gave me an odd stare.

"You drink a lot of coffee?"

"I become Hades if I don't." I replied. Atros rolled his eyes, unamused as he went back to studying the menu. I watched him over the top of his menu, the way his dark eyes skimmed the menu with interest, his blonde hair falling in haphazard waves around a beautifully sculpted face. I rarely passed out compliments, so to call Atros attractive was an honor he would never know about. When we were together, I never complimented him or gave him the impression I enjoyed his company. I'd learned all too well what happened to the things I'd gotten too close to.

The Fates were always there to rip the rug out from under me should I find something I wanted to keep.

They further proved that by ripping Ambrosius away.

You did that.

Shut up, conscience, nobody asked you anything.

"Are you arguing with yourself?" Atros asked. I scowled at him, zoning back in to see him staring at me, another smirk curving his lips. I had no idea how he managed to look straight into my head and it irritated me. Just what the hell was he?

"What are you?" I demanded. Atros raised an eyebrow.

"A whore."

"No, I mean, species. What species are you, you ingrate." I snapped impatiently. Atros nodded, looking back down at his menu.

"I'm a vampire."

"You're lying."

"You were lying earlier too."

"Okay, new rule. No lying."

"Then tell me about your family." Atros encouraged. I glared at him. Why was he so insistent? What did it matter? I had no sob story to feed him for attention, and none that I wanted to share with him, or anyone else for that matter. There were things that I preferred to push as far back as possible.

"They were a bunch of idiots." I answered. Atros stared at me curiously, tilting his head slowly as he folded his menu and set it aside, muttering his order to the waitress when she came by. I did the same, and we waited in silence until she was gone before Atros spoke.

"I believe that," He said, making me roll my eyes, "Did you hate them?"

"Passionately."

"Who was part of your family? Any siblings?"

"Too many."

"What about your mother and father? Were you three close?"

If you call sitting in my father's stomach acid, rotting away until I was eight, then yes. We were very intimate, but aside from that, I loathed Cronus. Rhea just as much. At least their treachery was open and true, though. Siblings, on the other hand... They were a different story. A story better left untouched or else I'd go into a hissy fit.

"No." I told Atros curtly. He seemed to catch from my tone that I held no wish to continue the conversation, so he remained silent, save for occasional comments as we ate our meals. We stayed a while longer and Atros told me about the time he met Gloria. It was a typical romance novel worthy meeting. She was an innocent waitress at a cafe and Atros kept coming on purpose until she noticed him and he asked her out. They fell in love and after chasing each other back and forth, he finally asked her to marry him. They married and planned to raise a child of their own, Tiberius.

It made my stomach churn. How did that sort of thing happen just like that? How did that sort of thing happen at all? Relationships were a mystery to me. They were complete strangers with a biological itch, scratched it, called it love, married, had children, then went on with their lives. And sometimes, a couple didn't even stay together. They got a divorce, one spouse died, so on and so forth. It seemed like a gigantic waste of time.

A waste of time that all eight of my children were partaking in. Though, I wasn't sure if that was what angered me about their relationships or not. I had expected more of them. I had expected intelligence and maturity. Charon was that and more, until Alexion had managed to get under his skin and now Charon swooned at the mere mention of Alexion. Cerberus was a bitch in heat for his damned fae, Blaine, a smart-mouthed piece of shit faerie that I regret ever handing over to Cerberus as a play thing. Give a dog a toy and he turns it into his husband... weird. Then there was Zelios, who not only fell in love with an oracle, of all the rotten creatures, but his second-in-command, who was a mere child himself. Oh sure, he was over a few hundred years old, but he was childish and obnoxious. Zelios was silent and mature, until he met Noe. He was still silent, of course, no thanks to me, but mature? Hardly. He would smile and coddle Noe as if he were the only thing in the world that mattered, when there were several other realms out there that were ten times more important.

Cain and Abel were just a huge mess all on their own. I'd felt pity for Abel when I'd first been drawn to him. I'd stupidly allowed him to get past my defenses so he could find some sort of comfort in a world that was foreign and frightening to him. And he was the definition of insanity; repeating the same mistake over and over again, expecting a different result. He always fell for Cain's tricks, and while Cain's current trick was lasting longer than the others, it was still a trick and I was once again waiting for Abel to come running to me tearfully like he did all the other times.

Malachi was a fool as well. I'd never intended for him to be born, and I'd never intended to spit on him if he wasn't a constant reminder of what had happened between his mother and I; a situation I did not wish to repeat ever again. He'd been perfect until that damned half-Titan bastard confessed his undying love for him and drew him into a web of lies and deceit.

And then Theo. Falling for that damned Egyptian, who liked to think he could control Theo, and would flaunt his ability to tame him by chiding him publicly. Theo was too stupid to even realize it.

And to make things ten times worse, Ambrosius had even left. I knew that I wasn't the perfect parent, obviously. I didn't need the Atlantean prick, Xenon, to tell me that. As if he knew what it was like to be both a god and a father. He had no idea what it was like. But to have Ambrosius run off with some stranger he'd barely known a month, claiming he was in love with him.

I could still see the horrified look on Ambrosius's face when I'd seen the hickey on his throat when he bent his neck to the side to look over my shoulder at files spread out the desk in my office. The moment I'd seen it, my vision had gone red and pent up rage flooded my veins. I'd grabbed him by the throat and thrown him down on the desk, ripping the plate off his armor to reveal the bruising on his throat. I was old enough to know better as he sputtered excuses about how he'd hurt himself during training.

Training my ass. I wasn't stupid.

I knew a hickey when I saw one.

And someone had dared to put their hands on Ambrosius. My son. He'd been the one. The one I...

"The look on your face says you're thinking about something upsetting." Atros's voice cut through my thoughts and I blinked, then narrowed my eyes at him to see him staring at me. I cleared my throat and withdrew a sachet of drachma, tossing it on the table for our waitress and meal before I rose to my feet. Atros did the same as I led the way out of the restaurant, refusing to achknowledge Atros's probing statement about my earlier mental tirade.

Ambroisus was a subject I didn't even speak to Persephone about, let alone a prostitute.

We arrived back at the brothel where once again we engaged in a playful romp that lasted about half an hour before I remembered Persephone was going to contact me around this time. I made an excuse about having to go to work and Atros accepted it gracefully, laying across the bed as he watched me dress. I headed for the door, shrugging on my shirt.

"I'll be back tomorrow. Change the sheets. They smell like sweat." I commanded. The air stirred behind me and I frowned, turning to see Atros behind me. I stared at him and he stared back before leaning down to kiss me, but it wasn't a scorching hot kiss. It was a gentle touching of lips before he pulled back. And while his kiss wasn't hot, his stare was and it sent chills through me.

"See you tomorrow." He breathed. I just gave him a short nod before hurrying out the door, shutting it behind me and heading down the hallway, suddenly feeling ill.

I didn't like this feeling. It was vaguely familiar, and any feeling that was familiar was dangerous.

I hurried home before turning on my laptop, getting comfortable on the bed just ten minutes before Persephone ran me on some strange mortal program called Skype.

"Sweetheart, are you all right?" Persephone asked the moment she saw me. I scowled.

"What? Is there something on my face? Aside from my natural attractiveness." I added. Persephone rolled her eyes and flashed a smile, but it faded as she studied me.

"I just... I dunno. You look... Well, honestly, you look like you're about to... Well, never mind. Are you all right?" She asked. I glared at her, irritated by her assumption that I, of all people, would shed tears. As if I could possibly cry. Of all the things that I'd had the misfortune of experiencing, I'd never before in my life cried. Even as an infant. My mother had told me she almost tossed me off the mountain because I hadn't made a single noise and they assumed me dead until I blinked.

So she tossed me at her husband and he devoured me.

Because that was better than tossing me off a mountain.

Okay.

"I'm fine," I told her irritably, "Just exhausted. What about you? Is your mother still hassling you about that dance thingy you wanted to go to?" Persephone hesitated. She still looked concerned, for reasons unbeknowst to me, before she finally caved into my insistence on ignoring the topic.

"Yeah, it's ridiculous. I'm a grown woman. If I want to dance skyclad with witches, I see nothing wrong with it. They're a friendly coven visiting Stone Henge for the upcoming sabbat."

"I don't want you dancing skyclad either."

"Oh, don't be a prude."

"I'm not," I told her sternly, "I don't want my wife dancing naked with a bunch of strangers."

"And you sleeping with a prostitute is okay?" Persephone asked dryly. I went still, staring at her. She stared back at me. A flicker of rage erupted inside me, but I kept it from showing on my face. How dare she jab at me for that! I had given her permission to sleep with whomever she wished, and according to Demeter, Persephone was happily taking advantage of that leeway. And yet, when it came to me, she preferred I remain celibate for the rest of eternity.

And how did she find out anyway?

No, wait. I had a feeling it was either one of my bastard sons or Demeter, who probably found out from Hermes, the gossip god, who would never admit to it.

Why was I even shocked? Nothing was private. It didn't matter how I much I locked things up.

Someone always found a way to break in and steal whatever they wanted.

I watched the guilt flicker through Persephone's eyes, but she didn't get a chance to apologize as her mother called to her and Persephone gave me a quick apology before kissing at me and hanging up, leaving me to stare at a blank navy screen informing me that the call had been disconnected.

I sent the laptop flying across the room to smash through one of the walls. I slid back down into bed, sighing deeply and pressing the heels of my palms to my eyes.

Push it down.

I repeated Demeter's stupid mantra in my head in order to relax myself enough to sleep, not that it ever really worked anyway. I just felt obliged to make the attempt for some reason. I still remembered the day Demeter had utter those bitter words to me.

I had stood at the edge of Olympus, staring down into a dark slope of rock and evergreen pines and other strange trees that I'd never bothered to identify. I still remembered the weight crushing me, unable to decipher between the weight of my armor or the weight of everything else. The wind had been particularly cold that night, and the moonlight from Selena's realm illuminating everything with a blanket of silver light.

And Demeter stood behind me, wearing her golden gown that fell in beautiful silk waves around her curvy figure. Her long dark hair was piled in curls on her head, some dangling down to brush her shoulders as her gold eyes stared off into the distance, as if she, too, was relieving the events of the past few months.

"There's nothing left for you here, Hades," She'd muttered grimly, "Nothing left, but cold bitter hate. Embrace it. Make love to it... Because it's the only thing you'll ever have." At the time, her words had been an odd sense of comfort and while now, there was still that twinge of comfort, it was mostly the molten bitterness of it that made me angry.

Only hatred remained. All other emotions were temporary.

Just like the ones I felt with Atros.