Free Sirenz Back in Fashion by Charlotte Bennardo Page A

we’ll take a stroll down Rodeo Drive while we discuss your costume. I have a personal couturier who’ll make whatever you desire.” His smile was warm, inviting, and oh so lustful. All the females, and a number of males, eyed him hungrily. If only … don’t go there!
    But Rodeo Drive! A custom-made outfit for a fantasy costume ball! It was more temptation than a girl should have to bear.
    Think about Meg. Think about starving children. Think about vicious goddesses threatening your life.
    â€œI never agreed to go to a ball.” I had some fortitude left. Oh Mala, your hands are bliss! She was rubbing my hands with a soothing cucumber and melon moisturizer.
    â€œRemember, it’s not just your pretty, delectable little neck, it’s Margaret’s too.” Hades’ look darkened. “You both have obligations to fulfill, and this is yours.”
    When I opened my mouth to argue, he leaned over me, placing a finger over my lips.
    â€œEnjoy the moment. It harms no one to be pampered.”
    â€œWon’t Persephone get mad when you throw a party and she isn’t invited?” I persisted.
    He scowled and pulled back to resume his seat on an overstuffed chair.
    â€œYou can be so provincial sometimes, Sharisse. You need to loosen up.”
    All I could do at first was sputter. Loosen up? “I’m parading around the Underworld in skimpy clothes, talking to people who’ve been dead hundreds of years, having strangers touch my intimate apparel, and being made a hostage hostess! Is there anything else? Oh yes, you forgot to bring on the hell hounds!” I shrieked. He might have winced. Every dog for ten blocks might have cringed.
    â€œMy little drama queen,” he teased.
    I glared. “You still haven’t answered my question. What about Persephone? First thing she’ll do as soon as she can is come after me. Somehow, I think she’ll find a way to blame me for the party, for her not being invited, and for who knows what else.” I could feel my control starting to slip away. If not for the nail technician, my hands would have been balled into fists. Meltdown imminent.
    Hades rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “If I’m lucky enough to still be enjoying the bounty of your presence when Persephone rejoins me, I’ll make other arrangements for you. How you comport yourself determines whether I send you to the Pit”—he made a worried face—“which I emphatically encourage you to avoid, or to a pleasant, tropical island until Margaret either finishes or fails at her task. If the second option is what comes to pass, Margaret will join you and I will find a suitable job for her. N’est-ce pas ?”
    I seethed. “Oh, so it’s into the golden cage for us until you can play?”
    His eyes gleamed with dark delight and he slowly licked his top lip. With a panther’s lethal grace, he rose and glided over to me. Not a good sign. And I was trapped in the pedicure chair.
    â€œIt’s your duty to make me happy.” He was a breath away and leaned in for the kiss.
    The weight of being alone in Tartarus, not knowing what was happening with Meg, having no control even over my wardrobe, was too much. I cracked under the strain.
    I wailed. Great heaving, loud, wet sobs.
    Hades jumped back as though I had swung a knife at him.
    â€œI want Meg! I can’t do this!” I cried.
    Hades actually looked shocked that instead of making a flip remark, I was bawling loud enough for the denizens on Mt. Olympus to hear.
    â€œSharisse! Mon coeur ! Don’t cry!” He seemed at a loss for anything other than insipid platitudes.
    I cried harder, until I was hiccupping and in danger of hyperventilating.
    All the people around us were frozen. Hades grabbed my hand from the inanimate technician and held it gently in his.
    â€œYou have to fulfill the contract. It’s written and even I can’t undo it!”
    â€œI