Page 7 of Curse the Flame

Many of who?

I open my mouth to argue, but he cuts me off with a tone as firm as one as Teddy. No way I can argue back now.

“You don’t know. I figured as much. The god I know… he wouldn’t turn on his kind like that.”

God?

What does this whack job mean, god?

Again, he continues, and I just stare blankly at him.

“One day, you might understand, and you might even be willing to listen to me, but now that you’ve returned to the Other at last… I’ll assure you of one thing, Aodhán Murphy. You are Hades. And you have a duty to do.”

God.

Hades.

No.

My temper snaps. I lift the gun as high as I can, aiming right between his strange eyes. I don’t know what did it: the casual way he used my name as though he has any idea who I am—who I used to be—or how he insists I’m… I’m…

Hades, rumbles the voice in my head… in my chest… in my soul. I am Hades, Lord of the Underworld, and the shade is waiting for me to guide him below to be judged. He’s waiting for us.

What?

I can’t stop myself from looking, almost as though, for a moment, I no longer have control of my body. I turn toward Johnny Wallace, and while his body is still crumpled along the shore, there’s another man standing there.

No. What did that voice say? It’s a shade, and considering the man is hovering inches over the ground, somewhat there, yet somewhat not… he’s a spirit. A soul.

He’s also one hell of a looker. With skin as deep a shade of bronze as the man with the silver hair, the shade has dark brown eyes and long, golden locks that reach his shoulders. He’s wearing something that would be more fitting on a dame, only there’s no doubt he’s a man. None I’ve ever seen before, but, even so, something about him makes it clear that he is Johnny Wallace.

Narcissus, supplies the voice. He’s done what he was meant to do, and eventually, he’ll be reborn mirrorside again to do this all over again. Just like we do this again and again.

Again and again.

Again…

Narcissus turns to me. Because part of me wants to take hold of him and lead him into the dark, I jerk my head, searching for the silver-haired man. He already knows so damn much. He has to be able to explain⁠—

—only he can’t because he’s gone.

And someone has to lead Narcissus to the Underworld to be judged by Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus… and how the holy hell do I know that?

Because, Hades tells me, I do. And, as Zeus told you, you are now Hades, and you will spend all eternity on my throne until, once more, the throne beside you is no longer as empty as it’s been for far too long.

I have no idea what that means, only that—somehow—I’ve trapped myself in this weird place with no way back to Brooklyn at all. Oh, I could use the last bullet on myself, but just as I’m sure that there’s no going back, there’s no easy escape for me, either.

Lowering the Colt, I think of what that man… what Zeus said… about how I thought I was so righteous in killing the targets that Teddy Thanos gave me. There were so many. At least twenty folders over the last ten months, and if even a one was as innocent as Zeus claimed…

Maybe I do deserve to spend the rest of my life in the dark of the Pit.

And, whether I do or not, that’s precisely where I lead Narcissus’s shade—and, with Hades my constant and only companion, that’s where Aiden Murphy stays.

PART ONE

THE POMEGRANATE

CHAPTER 1