Poison Fruit

Persephone gazed fondly at it. “Lovely, isn’t it? I think I could be happy there.”

“Excuse me,” I said incredulously, “but that is Hel’s demesne. Why don’t you go buy a piece of property somewhere else and start your own?”

She pursed her lush lips. “I’m afraid it’s complicated. Technically speaking, I’m not an underworld deity, and yet my continued existence in the mortal plane requires that I be affiliated with an actual physical underworld. Hel’s demesne has been consecrated by a hundred years of her presence,” she said. “That’s why I need it if I’m going to spend six months of the year here in Pemkowet.”

It had all the simplicity of a child’s logic: I want it, therefore it should be mine. “And are you proposing that Hel should share her demesne with you?” I asked quietly. “Or are you declaring war on her?”

“War!” Persephone’s laughter was an enchanting sound. Dancing gold sparkles returned to her eyes. “What an archaic notion!”

“That’s not an answer,” I pointed out.

The scent of ripe fruit hanging in the air intensified. “Two deities from competing cosmologies cannot coexist in a single underworld,” Persephone said in a calm tone. “Hel has relocated her demesne before. She may do so again.”

“Hel intends to defend her territory,” I said. “Which means you are declaring war.”

“Of course not.” She gave me a beautiful smile with a large dose of crazy in it, the motes in her eyes sparkling manically. “Hel’s decisions, including her failure to establish a legal claim to her demesne, are not my responsibility. I’m merely making a generous offer to purchase this property and build something wonderful on it, something that will benefit all of Pemkowet and generate a great deal of tourism. You’ll vote on it tonight, won’t you?” she added to the council members. “You see, I can’t stay. I’m not supposed to leave Hades until spring. I had to get special dispensation to be here today, and I’d really like to return with an answer.”

Jason Hallifax glanced at the members of the city council. “Oh, I think we can do that, can’t we?”

“Are you out of your minds!” I shouted at them. “No! You can’t make a decision like that on a whim! You need to have a . . . a referendum, or a—”

“You know, I think we’ve heard enough from you, pretty Daisy,” Persephone interrupted me. She made a slight, graceful gesture in my direction. “Let’s let others speak, shall we?”

It’s never a good idea to annoy a goddess. Especially a crazy one. Persephone might not have Hel’s ability to stop a mortal heart with a thought, but my tongue froze to the roof of my mouth. I could taste her power trickling down my throat, honey-sweet and poisonous, and gagged ineffectually on it. At the front of the hall, Daniel Dufreyne raised one manscaped brow as if to say, I told you so.

“I think this is a perfect forum to discuss Miss . . . Miss, um, Persephone’s offer.” The mayor of Pemkowet sounded like a man unsure whether or not he was dreaming. “Isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s the city’s decision,” said Cal Burns, who was the Pemkowet Township supervisor. “But I think as long as you stipulate that the proceeds would be used to pay the settlement, we’re all in agreement that this is a fantastic way to resolve the situation.” He glanced at Trudy Penrose, the mayor of East Pemkowet. “Wouldn’t you say so?”

“Oh, certainly,” she agreed.

I wanted to scream, but all I could do was make a strangled sound in the back of my throat, a process that threatened to tear the skin off my tongue.

This was worse, so much worse, than Dufreyne’s influence. At least there were ways to ward against him. How the hell did you stop a freaking goddess from dazzling the residents of an entire town, a town she was basically blackmailing into giving her what she wanted?

“Is there further public discussion before we call for a vote on the offer?” Jason Hallifax asked. “Does anyone wish to address the council?” He cleared his throat, shooting a guilty little glance in my direction. “Anyone who isn’t Daisy Johanssen?”

“I do.” It was Cody, on security duty at the back of the hall. His voice was harsh, more than a hint of growl in it. He strode forward, and it was Persephone he addressed, not the council. “If Pemkowet becomes your demesne, and you’re in residence for half the year, what happens during the other six months?”

“Why, I’ll be with Hades, as always,” she said in a wondering tone. “Where else would I be?”

“I don’t care where you’ll be,” Cody snarled, and I would have cheered him if I could have. Apparently, werewolves weren’t so easily dazzled. “What happens to the eldritch community in Pemkowet when you’re not here?”

“He’s right.” In the audience, Sinclair rose. The beads on his short dreadlocks were stirring of their own accord, and he had one hand pressed to his chest where the protective joe-pye weed sigil was etched. He sounded uncertain, but determined. “What happens to the nature fey and all the rest?”

Ah, God! I hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Like the adage went, as below, so above. If Pemkowet didn’t have a deity present in a functioning underworld for six months out of the year, for six months out of the year, the town would be mundane territory.