Page 59 of Claimed

“Hades, I?—”

“Stefan.”

Stefan jerked his gaze down to see Nicki, beautiful Nicki staring up at him, her green eyes bright with tears, her red hair wild from the damp heat of the Underworld. The face that had been etched into his mind so sharply he didn’t think he could ever live without it broke into a shaky smile, and her eyes searched his, seeming to focus and steady as he willed his strength into her. Her lips trembled, and a long breath gusted out. She shifted in his arms.

“Please, set me down,” she said. “I…have a request to make of Hades.”

Forty-Five

Nicki could feel Stefan’s muscles contract, as if her words had turned him to stone. Could that possibly be a thing? She didn’t know, but at this point, she decided that anything was possible with these people, in this place.

She was in freakingHell—or the Underworld, whatever that meant, but she was pretty sure it served as a proxy for freakingHell—and Stefan was talking to Hades! Hades, who’d just threatened to rip her beautiful demigod’s tongue out and replace it with one made of lead. Like that wouldn’t be a crime against humanity. She really liked Stefan’s tongue. She really liked every last inch of him.

“No, Nicki,” Stefan said, his grip still a vice around her. “That's exactly what he wants. If you set foot in his realm, you're his.”

“She's mine anyway,” Hades put in. He seemed to be pitching his voice a notch louder to make sure they heard him. “I’m only granting her the illusion of talking to you because I can. Surely, you have to know that.”

Nicki would have smiled at the almost petulant comment except for the way Stefan's expression changed. He went pale, his skin turning almost ghostly, his eyes haggard. He believedwhat this asshole god said, believed that she was dead or on the brink of it.

Screw that.She knew she wasn't dead. She had too much to live for, too much to do. But seeing Stefan stare fixedly at Hades, his jaw clenched, fear and loathing mixing together in a potent stew of emotions, tugged at her in a way she’d never felt before.

“You have a bargain you’d like me to drive, Hades, you have only to say the word,” Stefan said, his words dripping ice.

“And again, bargaining with an acolyte of Hermes is a fool’s game,” Hades retorted. “You don’t have anything I want.”

Nicki rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I do.” She craned her head to the side, and peered at the hulking man—god—whatever he was, who stood maybe thirty feet away. “Will you grant me permission to stand up on my own two feet without turning my request into some sort of weird Greek riddle where I can't leave if I do it? Will you give your word and not cheat me on this?” She wriggled a little in Stefan’s grasp.

“Nicki…”

Nicki glanced up toward Stefan again, but he wasn’t looking at her. His glare was still solidly on Hades. Still, she turned her face in time to flinch at the single drop of water that splashed onto her cheek. Her eyes widened. Was Stefan crying? Overher?

Hades grunted, then waved a hand. “You may stand. It will not be the reason why you’ll stay here.”

If anything, the cryptic response made Stefan’s arms tighten further.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Nicki wriggled harder. “So that we’re clear,Idecree thatyouwon’t be a dick about me leaving footprints on your precious underworld carpet, and no matter what, you won’t keep me if it’s not my time. Stefan—please.”

Looking like he’d sooner trade his tongue in as Hades had suggested rather than give in to her request, Stefan nevertheless let her stand.

Nicki planted her feet on the solid surface, grateful that the swirling mist seemed to cover something that felt like actual ground. A wave of dizziness stole over her, and she steeled herself. She sure as hell wasn’t going to show weakness now.

“Thank you,” she murmured, turning and lifting up a hand to Stefan’s cheek. He grabbed it and held it tight, then turned his mouth into the palm, kissing it hard.

When he pulled away, he stared at her with eyes gone flat and hard. “He’s a god, Nicki. An actual god. He doesn’t have power on Earth anymore, but this is his home. He could kill you here.”

“I could kill her anywhere,” Hades observed, again sounding bored, and this time she did smile.

“I like him,” she told Stefan, and then—before she could think too much about it—she lifted up on her toes and brushed her lips against his. “And I love you, my beautiful, fearless man. As far as I’m concerned, you’re an actual god, too.”

She turned away before she lost her nerve, and faced Hades squarely.

The man—god—whatever was a veritable beast of a guy, big and deeply tanned, with a thick mane of dark hair that was tied back with a heavy leather strap. He wore a cloak over a black tunic and pants and heavy boots, and he folded his arms over his chest as she took him in.

“You said Hephaestus could make you a tongue?” she prompted, reveling in the long steady beats of her heart. She could almost feel her blood rushing through her veins in this place, feel the energy of her prickling nerves, the spark of her synapses snapping. She felt alive, vibrant, real. “Like, smite one up in his forge or whatever?

“He can make anything.” Hades glowered at her. “And anything would be an improvement over listening to a demigod of Hermes prattle on.”

“Okay, fine.” She drew in a quick breath, released it. “Can he make me a new heart?”