N. Walters - Pride of the Lion

The warrior had a point, even though Hades would not admit it. “They know about the woman in New Orleans.”

“It doesn’t matter. All the pieces are in place, ready when you are, my lord.” The warrior added the two final words at the end as an afterthought. Hades gritted his molars together. Once this battle was won, he’d make the insolent warrior pay.

“What about the Lady?” Mordecai asked.

Hades waved his hand in the air and the black glass in the mirror changed, the scene growing lighter. The Lady of the Beasts appeared. She was seated beneath a large redwood tree, peering up at the sky. “She doesn’t appear to be too concerned about her remaining warriors, does she?” Hades watched Mordecai and was disappointed when the warrior seemed impervious to his barb. “The goddess is of no import. I will waste no more time on her. The end is at hand.”

Mordecai smiled, and it gave Hades pause. It was too much like the smiles he saw when he gazed at his own reflection. “Then all is as planned.”

Hades mentally called several of his fiercest demons to him, suddenly not wanting to be alone with the warrior. Which was ridiculous. Hades was a god, Mordecai an immortal warrior—strong, yes, but nothing when compared to the strength of a god.

“Yes. All is as planned. Let’s go.” Hades strode from the room. Mordecai glanced at the mirror in the corner and then followed.