Page 85 of Hateful Prince

I bit the inside of my cheek. Shadow daddy was feeling possessive.

“Does he let you watch him sleep? He lets me watch him sleep. He freed me. Daddy loves me best.”

And now I was feeling possessive.

“Shut it. You’ve done enough to Tor.” I sat her on the bed and stood there, hands on my hips, as I tried to figure out what my next step was. Did I pull her out of the vessel and... I didn’t know what came next.

Hades was there, his warm hands resting on my shoulders. “One step at a time, all right? Start with seeing the soul. You’ve interacted with enough spirits to know how to isolate their energy. It feels different. Has a different weight, sort of like oil floating on water, right?”

As he spoke, I closed my eyes, realizing he was correct. If I sent my awareness out, I could feel exactly where the spirit was placed. I could even sense the one wandering down the hallway. They were less intrusive, less aggressive. Or maybe I was just better at managing.

“Yeah. I can definitely feel her. I can almost see her in there.” If I focused hard enough, I thought perhaps I could see a haze of blue in the glass of the doll’s eyes. “Are souls blue?”

“Yes. They’re the same color as my fire. Some are more vibrant than others. The weaker they get, the less color they have.”

“Makes sense.”

And it did, in a weird way. I didn’t feel like I was learning something new so much as reclaiming something I’d learned a long time ago. I couldn’t help but wonder if this was something my father and The Scythe Society knew about. Had they been necromancers? Had he? Was that where this power came from? So many unanswered questions.

“I see your brain going a million miles an hour, goddess.” Hades wrapped his palm around the back of my neck and gave it a squeeze. “One thing at a time.”

Taking a steadying breath, I did my best to listen to him. “Okay. First thing, locate her spirit.”

“Very good.”

“But where will I put her if I am able to control her?”

“Hmmm.” He rolled his lips together, eyes squinting as he looked around the room, searching for an appropriate container. “There we go,” he said, beelining for his dresser.

“Uh, I don’t think a drawer is going to cut it.”

“Not the drawer,” he corrected, lifting the crystal decanter of Brimstone whiskey. It was just over a third of the way full. Before I could utter another word, he took the little stopper out of the top and necked the entire thing.

“Jesus,” I whispered, watching the way his throat worked and feeling some kind of way about it.

He pulled the crystal from his lips with a loud, appreciative smack. “Hot damn.”

I went temporarily mute as he thumbed a bead of the amber liquid off his full lower lip.

“Stop looking at me like that, baby girl.”

I blinked, refocusing on the task at hand and pulling my inner snark around me like a protective blanket. “Just what I need, a drunk god helping me.”

“I’ll help you with whatever you want, baby. But first let's get this spirit put somewhere she’s less of a hassle.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Kat said.

“Yes. We’re aware.”

Hades placed the crystal on the floor in the center of the room, then looked to me expectantly.

“What?” I asked.

“Take her out of the doll and put her inside the bottle.”

“You say that like it’s easy.”

“It is.”