Alice's eyes scanned the entrance, half-expecting Hades to have disappeared—but hoping he hadn't.
He was there.
Leaning against the side of a sleek black car like it belonged in a villain's magazine spread. A single dim streetlamp glowed above, casting angular shadows across his sharp features. One hand in his pocket. The other holding a lit cigar to his lips.
Alice slowed.
Of course.
His eyes met hers as he puffed smoke slowly, lazily.
He didn't look surprised to see her—more like he'd been expecting her.
Was he waiting for something else? Because Hades waiting for her? That would be crazy.
The smug bastard.
She wrinkled her nose at the smell of the cigar and kept a strategic two-meter radius. Maybe three. The smoke curled into the air like it had nowhere better to be.
Just like her, apparently.
He eyed her calmly, flicking ash with elegant disinterest.
