Daughter of Persephone: A Reverse Harem Romance (Cerberus Book 1) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Daughter of Persephone

  Cerberus Book One

  Helen Scott

  Contents

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Other works by Helen Scott

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Daughter of Persephone

  Cerberus Book One

  Copyright © 2018 by Helen Scott

  Cover Design © Natasha Snow

  Editing by Courtney Umphress

  All rights reserved.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author, except for the brief use of quotations in a book review.

  This book is intended for adults only. The sexual activities represented in this book are a work of fiction intended for adults. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are used fictitiously by the author. Any resemblance to actual places, events, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  Poppy

  My dress rode up my thighs as the beat of the music vibrated through the floor and up into my body. I was doing what Rox always begged me to—dance like no one was watching. If I wasn't careful, my ass was going to pop out of the tiny thing she called a dress, so I tugged it down. The white, wrinkly material was one of her favorites and was just a smidge too small for me, but I had let her dress me. It was her birthday, after all.

  She shimmied in front of me with a smile that radiated pure joy. Her dress sparkled like a disco ball, which it almost was considering it was covered in plastic pieces that glittered in the light like the back of a CD, and if the lasers drawing shapes in the fog above the dance floor hit her just right, it was almost blinding. When I took in the whole outfit, I knew she was stunning. I had always said she should be a model. Her smooth ebony hair, perfectly mascaraed lashes, and bright pink lips had drawn every male eye in the house.

  “I need a drink!” I yelled over the music right as I felt a set of hands grab my hips.

  The club was packed, and as Rox and I wove through the crowd to the bar, I felt more than one pair of hands trying to cop a feel. There was nothing unusual about that, just part of life to me. It didn't help that I waitressed on the weekends in a shithole of a dive bar where the patrons were sketchier than pretty much anywhere else I had ever worked. But I needed the extra cash, so what was a girl to do?

  Rox squeezed into a small space between two bro-ish-looking guys, and they each assessed her with appreciative eyes. The bartender took her order, and within a couple minutes, we had some pink girly drinks in our hands. My best friend couldn't order a beer to save her life.

  “It's called a Cinderella Number Five,” she yelled into my ear so we could hear each other over the music.

  “What the hell does that mean?” I shouted back.

  Rox just shrugged and smiled in that infuriating way that she only used when she was trying to get me to loosen up and live a little.

  I sipped it cautiously, and the sweet, citrusy drink washed over my taste buds with an alcoholic kick at the end and a slightly bitter aftertaste.

  My best friend downed her drink in three gulps before leaning in and yelling, “Let's go dance!”

  I pointed to my drink in response.

  “Just finish it!”

  I sighed and followed suit, taking a few long pulls from the glass. The drink burned on the way down, and as I set the glass down, I felt a little dizzy. My body’s response was exactly why I never did stuff like that. I'd always been a bit of a lightweight, and Rox knew that, but she was having too much fun to remember, or maybe she was just trying to push me out of my comfort zone. It was one of the reasons we worked so well as friends. She pushed me, and I reined her in. Win, win.

  We were out on the floor again, swaying and jumping to the music in turn, when my body clenched and heat burned along my skin. Not the kind of man, I'm getting a good workout just from dancing heat, but more the cold, clammy sweat kind of heat. It seemed to go to my very core as nausea rolled through me. I swiped my hand over my forehead and around the back of my neck, and it came away damp. A twist of panic coiled inside me, and I knew I shouldn't be feeling like this after two drinks.

  “I'm going to the bathroom,” I yelled, and Rox nodded. We had both spent enough time at that club for birthdays and any other excuse Rox could come up with to go dancing, that we didn't feel the need to accompany one another; plus, trying to get her away from the dance floor was a Herculean task.

  I wove my way through the crowd once more, getting pushed this way and that by the gyrating couples on the edges. After almost missing it, I found the small hallway to the restrooms, and surprisingly, there was no line. It was just me. After looking around to make sure I didn't miss an out of order sign or something, I shrugged to myself and went in. A scream ripped out of my throat as soon as I opened the door.

  Something hovered over the ground, and I saw the shadow of someone slumped against the wall. The shape seemed to turn toward me, moving in my direction. Before I could get the door open and get out of the bathroom, I felt it pass through me, like walking through fog on a cold morning. When I turned back around, the shadow and the hovering thing were gone. There was nothing there except the dirty graffitied tiles and used paper towels that hadn't made it into the trash can. I went into the stall closest to me and just sat for a moment, breathing and trying to process what I had seen. A ghost? Or a spirit?

  The cold chill that broke out over my skin and the nausea rolling in my stomach weren't helping me feel any better. Everything seemed to be closing in on me. The stall was too small, the bathroom echoed, and the music from the club was now battering at me instead of providing good vibrations. The whole feeling of the evening had changed. I was hit by a wave of vertigo when I stood. I felt as if I were ten feet tall, and the idea that someone might have slipped something in my drink was rolling around in my head. There was nothing I could do to shake the sensation of something building within me, something that hadn't been there before, but now it was as if everything else were being forced out.

  The wave of nausea that hit me then was more than just a wave. I turned and vomited everything from the evening into the toilet and grabbed some toilet paper to clean myself up before heading to the sink. Nothing was on the dress, which made me sigh in relief, but I felt awful about g
etting sick on Rox's birthday night. I reached under the counter. The curtains that hung down hid extra supplies, including a bottle of mouthwash, which I used vigorously. When I could finally think about leaving the bathroom without feeling sick anymore, I went to find my best friend. I sent a silent wave of thanks to whoever was responsible for me finding her at the bar instead of on the dance floor. At least there she was easier to talk to.

  “There you are!” she yelled over the still-thumping music.

  “Sorry, Rox, but I think I'm going to have to call it a night.”

  “Why? What's wrong?” Her eyes widened, and she immediately looked me over, checking for visible illness or injury.

  “I think something from dinner isn't agreeing with me,” I said, placing a hand over my stomach. “I don't want to ruin your evening. Was anyone else meeting us here?”

  “Tina is coming by when she gets off work.”

  I tapped my phone's screen. It was probably less than a half hour till the third member of our little tribe appeared, since she would have just arrived at home.

  “I'll wait till she comes, but then I'm going to head out, if that's okay?”

  “Of course it's okay! But you don't have to wait, you know. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  “I don't doubt that, but it would make me feel better. I'll just hang out here while you go dance your ass off.”

  Rox's eyes were filled with worry, which was only accentuated by the furrowed brow and lack of smile. The girl was always smiling.

  “Go! Dance!” I gave her a small shove.

  “I'll be back in two songs!” she yelled as she walked away, a grin forming on her face once more.

  I flagged down the bartender and asked for a ginger ale. It always helped settle my stomach when I was sick. When it came back in a Moscow mule copper mug and he winked at me, I was surprised and touched by his thoughtfulness when he was obviously run off his feet.

  Being a woman at a bar without an alcoholic drink in hand, or with an obviously non-alcoholic drink, would have put me in prime harassment territory. Usually I could handle it, but I appreciated the thought of the bartender nonetheless. He had made it look as if I were enjoying a nice ginger beer cocktail all while I was just settling my stomach and watching my friend dance as if the world were ending tomorrow.

  The prickling sensation running over my skin was one I only ever had when someone was watching me. It passed quickly enough, and I honestly didn't want to know who it was. I didn't really care. All I wanted was to see Tina's curly red hair and be able to go home and sip on some ginger ale in peace.

  When the sensation returned and lingered, I tried to convince myself I still wasn't interested in finding out who was staring at me. And for the most part, that was true; however, a small section in my brain screamed at me for the knowledge.

  I turned and scanned the crowd. No one was paying any obvious attention to the loner girl at the end of the bar. I brushed the sensation aside and turned back to watch Rox, wanting to make sure she wasn't getting herself into any trouble.

  Her raven hair swung like a dark waterfall as it shimmered in the light along with her dress. There was nothing the men around her could do except watch in admiration as her small lithe body curved and twisted to the music. At first, guys would always try to dance with her until they realized they couldn't keep up with her moves. I guess that was what came of taking all kinds of dance classes growing up.

  “Can I buy you a drink?” a low voice next to me asked.

  I glanced over and said, “No, thanks. I'm good.” I gestured with my copper mug.

  “Come on, I'm just tryin' to be nice,” the guy said, pulling out his best good-ol'-boy smile.

  “I appreciate it, but I'm good. Really.” I gave him a tight-lipped smile in return.

  “There's no need to be a rude bitch,” he snarled.

  “No need to be a pushy asshole, but there you go.”

  The guy tossed what was left of his beer over me and stalked away while I spluttered sounds of indignation.

  “Are you freaking kidding me?” I muttered.

  The bartender was there seconds later with napkins and a towel in hand.

  “Thanks.” I smiled weakly at him over the bar as I accepted his help.

  A grunt and gasps broke out on the other side of the bar. I turned and looked as one did when a fight broke out, and a small, slightly evil smile spread over my face. The prick who had just dumped beer all over me was now getting his ass handed to him by the biggest guy I'd ever seen in my life.

  The new guy looked as if he were about to bust out the seams of his leather jacket, let alone the gray T-shirt clearly straining under the effort of his movements. It didn't take long before one of the bouncers came and broke it up, escorting them both out of the club. As they were leaving, the huge guy looked over his shoulder directly at me. Our eyes locked, and I felt a surge of awareness prickle through me just like before. I immediately knew this was the person who had been watching me. What I didn’t know was why.

  Chapter Two

  Poppy

  The crowd eventually dispersed, and I was still stuck at the bar, waiting and watching Rox dance with some guy, although dance was a loose term. I snorted a little as I imagined the Time Warp from The Rocky Horror Picture Show playing. There was definitely a lot of pelvic thrusting going on.

  “Oh my gawd, did you see that? The dude was huge! I wonder what the little guy did to piss him off?” Tina's voice yelled from behind me, and when I turned, she was right there. Her red curls looked stunning with her slinky black dress and shiny gold heels. When she and Rox got together, they stunned guys into submission. It was actually a lot of fun to watch.

  “I have no idea, but whatever it was, it couldn't have been good,” I said as I thought about the prickling sensation and the guy throwing beer over me.

  “No shit,” Tina said as she turned back from the bar with a vodka cranberry, her drink of choice.

  “Are you good if I head out? Something I ate has made me feel as if I've been hit by a truck, but I didn't want to leave until you got here.”

  “Yeah! I was going to go dance, anyway. Take care of yourself, friend.” She leaned in and gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before she turned to the dance floor.

  I was able to catch Rox's eye before I left, and I offered her a wave. She blew me a kiss, and I pretended to catch it and press it to my heart. The guy she was dancing with looked at me as if questioning whether I was a potential threat, which made me want to laugh. We were goofy when we wanted to be. I smiled at her one last time before heading to the door.

  Part of me was sick with guilt over leaving my friend on her birthday of all days, but whatever had happened in the bathroom wasn't done yet, not if the feeling in my belly was anything to go by. Plus, if I was going to puke again, I'd rather do it in my own toilet where I could brush my teeth afterward, because just the mouthwash wasn't cutting it.

  The chilly air outside let everyone know that autumn was on its way and summer was coming to an end. I wrapped my arms around myself as I moved through the crowd just outside the door and hailed a cab. A black car pulled up to the curb with a sticker of a familiar cab app.

  “You call for a cab?” the driver yelled through the window, his voice a deep baritone.

  “No, but I need one,” I said as I tried to get a better look at him, but he was too busy looking down at his phone.

  “If my fair's not here in a few, I'll take you.”

  “Thanks!”

  He grunted and closed the window. We both waited; the only difference was I was the one out in the cool air now filled with drizzle, while he was in his warm, dry car. A few minutes later, I let out an irritated huff and moved to flag down a new cab. The guy seemed to notice and leaned out his window, yelling at me to get in.

  I pulled open the back door and slid in. I didn’t see him turn on his meter as he pulled away from the curb, which sent a nervous twinge through my already ups
et belly.

  “Twenty-Fifth and Whitehouse, please. Oh, and if you could corner slowly, I'd really appreciate it. I'm not feeling that great.”

  “Got it. If you feel like you need to puke, let me know and I'll pull over. I'd rather not clean it out of my car, you know?”

  “I'd really like to not throw up in your car. So long as you don't drive like a roller coaster, I think we'll be okay.”

  “You got it, ma'am.” His eyes flashed to mine in the rearview mirror, and I got that strange prickling sensation again. “That's a pretty necklace.”

  “Thanks,” I said as my hand went to it. The patina-covered silver had bright red stones in the middle, and for some reason, it captivated me.

  “Where'd you get it?” he asked while the city slipped by outside.

  “The thrift store on Cicero. My friend loves finding deals on stuff, so we went for her birthday. I never expected to find something like this,” I said as my fingers ran over the warm metal.

  He grunted, evidently unimpressed with my story, and the rest of the drive went by in silence.

  “How much do I owe you?” I asked as we pulled up outside the apartment building next to mine.

  “Thirty-two dollars and eighteen cents,” he said, his voice sounding more like a growl than it had before.

  The number seemed a little high, but then, I didn't know which direction he was supposed to be heading with his fare who never showed up.

  “Keep the change, and thanks,” I said as I handed over two twenty-dollar bills.