Sirenz Back in Fashion by Charlotte Bennardo Page A

in a snit because Zeus won the big enchilada, cosmically speaking. This was his Olympus.
    â€œAnd he allows souls who pass to keep their bodies, so that he doesn’t have to look at shades. Except”—Caz sported a wry grimace—“he doesn’t get it quite right.”
    I huffed. “And they have to do his bidding.” I thought of Ben.
    Caz laughed. “That too.”
    I frowned, thinking about how the shades by the river would be there forever. Poor miserable things.
    Caz scanned the area. He was fidgety and nervous and I was sure he was looking for the sudden reappearance of Cerberus. Or maybe Hades.
    â€œSome souls are doomed, either by one of the gods or by something they’ve done,” he explained. “They’re stuck on the other side of the river, or down in the Pit, or they’re wandering in far worse places.”
    â€œHorrific way to spend eternity,” I said softly.
    His voice was almost bitter. “Yes it is. Remember that, when you anger Hades. None of the gods are to be trusted. They’ve proven fickle and heartless to both humanity and their own kind, uncountable times.”
    Caz looked sad, and I felt my heart constrict in response. Even though I didn’t know what his particular arrangement with Hades was, I didn’t want to see anyone suffer. Hades might even be pitied too; while Poseidon and Zeus enjoyed their realms, there wasn’t much in the Underworld to be cheery about. So he created his own happy place.
    My fingers lightly touched Caz’s and we smiled awkwardly at each other.
    â€œSo what’s your story, Sharisse?”
    Looking into his soft eyes, I wanted to tell him the whole sad tale, but I couldn’t. A cute face wasn’t worth an extra day in this place, and I’d suffer much worse than that if I dropped so much as a vowel. Nondisclosure was the binding rule. Shaking my head, I just said, “Call me Shar. And I can’t talk about it. What about you?”
    Caz looked across the twilight landscape; it seemed there was a nighttime here. “I can’t tell you, either.” His tone was distant.
    â€œThen we’re at an impasse, I guess.” I wasn’t really surprised. Probably everyone down here had secrets. I know I had mine.
    Awkward silence.
    â€œSo, Hades is having this party,” I began. “The W’Under­world Ball. Will you come?”
    Caz turned to me. “He’s throwing a ball without Persephone here?”
    I grimaced. “Yeah, I’m the substitute hostess.” I brightened. “And, as a good hostess, I’m inviting you.”
    Caz looked at me doubtfully. “I don’t know. Persephone has an awful temper, and when she finds out you’re here, first she’ll scream at Hades, then feed you to Cerberus, and finish by making life miserable for the rest of us. I think I’ll camp out in a cave until that war is over. It’ll be quieter and safer.”
    I snuck a sideways glance at his strong jawline, pink lips, and patrician nose. Quite the package. If only … but that wasn’t possible. He was here, and if he wasn’t dead, he had his own problems with Hades, so there was no taking him with me if I was freed or could escape.
    â€œWell, please think about coming anyway. I won’t know anyone but you and Ben.”
    Caz tried to smother a snicker. “Be careful of old Ben. Considers himself a ladies’ man.”
    My face scrunched. “He’s old enough to be my great-great—”
    Caz shook his head, a huge grin on his face. “Don’t let that fool you. And sure, I guess I could come to the ball.”
    I grinned back at him. “In costume, and don’t tell me what it is—I want to see if I can pick you out of the crowd.” Like I wouldn’t know that delish body no matter how it was wrapped!
    â€œI’ll know you the moment I see you.” He stared into my eyes. I let go a