Hecate's Spell

by Lacey Carter Andersen

  And then he’d introduced me to the woman.

  The witch.

  A female who ignored my advice, glared at me, and made me carry her screaming to her escape. I instantly disliked her, this woman who my brother had fallen in love with. It made something inside of me ache at the thought that if this is his mate, his chosen woman, she will need to be mine too. And I don’t know how I could learn to love a stubborn fool like her.

  “Should we go faster?” she whispers, and the sound of her musical voice seems to echo around us.

  Blaise and I look back at her, then exchange a glance. She keeps jerking as if to look over her shoulder, then stops herself, as if expecting trouble at any moment. It’s irritating. All we can do is keep going, and not consciously look back for Andros. Worrying about getting caught will serve no purpose.

  “The...Ryane woman reassured us that this isn’t a path that Hades and his men can take. It’s a secret exit for Persephone’s confidants. The woman warned us there would be tests to be certain, well, I’m not sure of what, but that we should still be careful. But Hades won’t be following us here.”

  Hecate’s eyes, a strange red-gold, land on me, and for a moment I can’t breathe. “Hades can reach us anywhere.”

  My hands clench into fists. “I won’t be irritated by a woman afraid of shadows.”

  She moves slowly closer to me until she invades my space. She stands up on her tiptoes so that we’re so close we could kiss. “Careful, Orion. I think you have me mistaken for someone else. I am Hecate. The first witch. People fear me, not the other way around. But I’m also a woman who has spent lifetimes as Hades’s prisoner, and I will not underestimate him. Understand?”

  I shiver, confused by the way my gaze is stuck to her.

  “We understand,” Blaise says, and she turns that too-knowing gaze onto my friend.

  He gives her a small mile.

  She tilts her head. “Shall we keep going?”

  He nods, and then we turn and continue walking. Hecate follows closely behind, and I find my back ridged and my thoughts dark. I had known my reunion with my brother would be short, but it still killed something deep inside me that I’d only had a moment to see him, to hug him, to show him how missed and loved he was. Now, I have only my faith and the words of a monstrous woman to keep me walking forward, believing despite everything, that my brother is following along with us.

  And then there were his words to me. Fall in love with her. I know what he wanted. I just don’t think I can give it to him. He deserves everything and more, but forcing myself to love an unlovable woman is asking too much.

  Perhaps instead of trying to love her, I should try to show my brother the truth about who she is. Then, when we reach the surface, my brother will see other women and realize he chose this Hecate out of desperation, not because she deserves him.

  That’s a plan that makes more sense.

  We walk for hours, always climbing uphill, breathing hard. I expect the woman to whine, to complain, to beg for a break. But she does not. Even when I look back at her, and her pale blue skin is paler, and sweat beads her brow, she says nothing. It makes me feel...guilty, but I push the feeling aside. I will not baby her. If she chose to come with us, an unwelcome tagalong, then that’s all she’ll be.

  The ground levels out in front of us, and Blaise points to one corner. I frown as we leave the path and step through a doorway. Inside is a small cave of sorts with a pool of water trickling from the rocks in the back, a ring of stone with burnt firewood, and trees with dark wood that seem to meld with the walls. Twigs and branches litter the ground, which seems to be made up of the dark dirt mixed with black sand.

  “I think we should stop here for the night,” Blaise says.

  I shake my head. “We should keep going and free my brother as quickly as possible.”

  Blaise frowns back at me. “I get that we’re in a rush, but someone clearly used this space to rest many times, so that tells me we might not find another resting place for a while. We don’t want to make a dumb mistake because we’re tired.”

  I look to the witch. She says nothing. Her face is carefully blank.

  “Alright,” I grunt.

  We sling our packs down by the fire, and Blaise is quick to toss wood and twigs into the circle of stones. He smiles at Hecate, presses a finger to the wood, and lights it on fire. It irritates me a little that he’s trying to impress her. But she doesn’t look impressed, she looks tired.

  Another pang of guilt flares inside of me as I watch her spread her cloak out, then lie down on it, facing the flames. She looks...like a broken butterfly. That strangely fluid dress of hers spreads out around her. Her knees are partially drawn up to her chest, and her blue hair is spread behind her.

  Blaise jostles me, and I blink, then tear my gaze away from her.

  He’s watching me watch her, which I don’t like. “Should we eat?”

  “You can’t eat anything here or you'll be forced to stay forever,” she says, her voice strangely hollow.

  Blaise smiles. “We were warned, so we brought our own food.

  Her gaze moves to him, and she looks uncertain.

  Blaise removes his sleeping bag roll from the bottom of his backpack and unrolls it before the fire. He sets his backpack on the end of it, near Hecate, then sits down and undoes the zipper. He pulls out a protein bar and hands it to her.

  She sits up very slowly, eying him and the food. Tentatively, she reaches out and closes her hand around it, then snatches it away and backs up, as if afraid he’ll take the food from her.

  My jaw drops open, and I have to work to close it. The shade had told us my brother had some witch as a lover. I’d thought she bespelled him, or perhaps he was forced into it. But this witch doesn’t act like a woman who has been prancing about the Underworld as Hades’s guest.

  She tears open the bar and begins to eat, and Blaise gets another protein bar out and eats his slowly, watching her, his brows drawn together. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. That this witch doesn’t make any sense.

  “So, how did you get to know Andros?” Blaise asks.

  She glances at me, and I realize I’m still staring, rooted in place. I force myself to move, to unroll my own bedroll and to sit down. I pull out a protein bar and eat it, careful not to look in her direction.

  “He was my guard. Tasked with keeping me prisoner and punishing me when I disobeyed.”

  “Liar,” explodes from my lips.

  She jerks.

  “My brother is a good and honorable man. He would never punish a woman.”

  She draws even further away from me. “The Underworld does strange things to a man.”

  “It wouldn’t change Andros. Not like that.”

  “Andros is a good man,” she says, as if carefully choosing her words. “But this place changes everyone.”

  “You’re a liar,” I repeat again.

  She falls silent and Blaise casts me a dark look.

  Anger rolls through me. This witch had tricked my brother somehow into falling for her, and now it seems she will do the same to Blaise. I want to believe they are smarter than that, but beautiful women have a way of influencing men.

  Not that I think she is beautiful.

  “So, uh, what was the Underworld like?” Blaise asks.

  She shrugs. “I didn’t see much outside of my cell.”

  “How long were you there?”

  She takes another bite of her food, closes her eyes, and chews it as if memorizing the feel and flavor of it, then speaks. “I have no idea. Many lifetimes. I never really counted until my daughter was born.”

  “Your daughter?” I stiffen. Had we left a child behind?

  She nods.

  “Is your...where is your daughter now?” Blaise asks.

  Hecate drops her arm and her bar is in her lap. Her gaze is locked on the flames. “I created a distraction and she escaped. That was the last I heard of her, but I hope Em is happy somewhere on earth.”r />
  “I’m so sorry,” Blaise says.

  She gives a terribly sad smile. “I’m not. The pain of losing her is nothing compared to the happiness of knowing she got free of this hell hole.”

  “I understand.” Blaise glances in my direction, but I can’t read his face.

  “I’m tired,” she says, suddenly lying down, half her bar beside her. “I’m going to rest.”

  Blaise nods. “We’ll keep an eye on things.”

  She turns away from the fire, her back to us. For a while, Blaise and I eat our bars slowly and listen to her until the rise and fall of her breath is even. Then Blaise shifts to the other end of his sleeping bag, so that he’s closer to me.

  He speaks in a low voice. “She’s been hurt, hungry, and scared for a long time. You need to chill out on your whole gruff gargoyle thing.”

  “She’s a witch who seduced my brother into thinking he loved her, tagged along on our rescue mission, and I can guarantee will be long gone when we free her. We’ve dealt with monsters before, and she’s one of them, Blaise. We shouldn’t be foolish enough to trust her or feel sorry for her.”

  “Are you sure?” He lifts a brow.

  “Yes.” But my stomach flips.

  “Because if she’s just a scared woman who's been kept prisoner and tortured by the same sick bastard who has kept Andros’s soul all these years, you’re being a complete asshole.”

  I wait for him to say more, but he takes off his shoes, snuggles into his bag, and turns his back on me. Within a few minutes, he’s snoring softly, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

  Is it truly so unreasonable to not trust a woman with a history like hers? If the legends are true, her birth into the world brought a new and different kind of magic from that of the gods. It was a magic humans could weld, and she was eager to teach and instruct all those with the gift. And many who learned to weld the powers joined the cult of witches. Most humans with the powers were evil, according to the books. I was not alive in the time when the women were drowned and hung for doing evil things, but I had heard rumors of it.

  Yes, it’s said that when Persephone was stolen to the Underworld, Hecate searched for Demeter’s daughter night and day, but was never able to rescue her. And yes, it’s rumored that many women who lost their children found them standing with Hecate at crossroads. The children would run to their mothers, and then Hecate was gone. Some said she saved the children. Some said she stole them. I believed the latter.

  Anyone who brought the cult of witches to the world is dangerous.

  So, I will not be fooled by a pretty face. But I will...try to get to know her, for my brother’s sake. Even if I can never care for her, never love her.

  I love Andros and Blaise. There’s nothing more I have to give.

  She begins to shiver across from me, and my gaze is glued to her. The tunnels are cold, even with the fire, but gargoyles are always warm. I don’t know what I’m doing when I stand and move around the fire, then drop my sleeping bag on top of her.

  But I sit back down and turn to stone to keep the chill away, then remain awake, watching Blaise and Hecate. Making certain there are no surprise attacks, and wishing like mad I can go in the tunnel and look the way we came, just to see my brother’s face and know that he is here. And maybe, just maybe, talk with him about why this woman is more than just a lover. I want to know...what makes her special. What makes him think he’s in love with her.

  But just like when I had nothing but Andros’s body, I still couldn’t ask my brother for advice. And that makes a strange kind of sadness well inside of me.

  If this doesn’t work, I will join him in the Underworld. It’s the only way.

  14

  Hecate

  I awake feeling warm, and I’m never warm. It instantly sends terror racing through my heart, and I spring to my feet, stumbling away. Had Hades sent one of his demons to fuck me again? Had he allowed a prisoner in to touch my hair while I slept, knowing how unsettled it would make me? Or is it something more sinister?

  In a crouch, I blink away sleep and take in my surroundings. Blaise and Orion are staring at me, while cooking something over the fire. They both have matching expressions of “what the hell?” on their faces. My heart slows down, and I rise from my crouching position.

  “Uh, good morning?” Blaise says.

  I turn away from him and stumble to the small pool of water. Scooping my hands in, I lift it to my face and inhale deeply. It smells fresh. I splash it into my face, cleaning my skin and the frightening thoughts from my mind, and don’t turn back around until I’ve calmed.

  Then, head held high, I come back and sit down on my blankets. It’s the first time I realize that there was a sleeping bag on top of me. Frowning, I look at the two men and realize that Orion must have covered me in the night. For a complete asshole who seems to hate me, it was a strangely kind gesture.

  “What are you making?” I ask, staring at the skillet over the fire.

  “Eggs and bacon,” Blaise says, grinning, then adds, “Okay, so dehydrated eggs and some kind of bacon jerky, but it shouldn’t be too bad.”

  My mouth drops open. “Can I have some when it’s done?”

  Blaise gives me a strange look. “Everything we brought, we’ll share with you. We’re not going to make food and watch you starve.”

  “Thank you,” rushes out of my mouth, and the guys exchange another glance I don’t understand.

  Then I sit on my hands to keep from reaching for the pan. Eggs. Bacon. I can’t believe it. How many years had it been since I tasted those things? I crave it like a drug, and my entire body shakes as I wait.

  “Since you can’t eat anything down here, did you just starve?” Orion asks.

  I finally force myself to look at him over the flames, and my heart races. He looks so damn much like Andros that it seems impossible. The cut of his jaw, the arch of his brows. And yet this Orion has longer hair, not too long, more like a man who hasn’t cut it in too long. And his eyes aren’t pale, they’re a dark brown that’s nearly black. But more than that, he seems...different from Andros. My gargoyle is broken inside, but also sweet and loving, while on the outside he is harsh and cruel. This Orion seems harsh and cruel, inside and out, and yet my heart speeds up when I look at him.

  I lick my lips, and his gaze follows the movement. “No, I ate. Persephone’s maids brought me food whenever they could.”

  “Why would the Queen of the Underworld do that?” he asks, frowning.

  I shrug. “I’ve never really been sure. Maybe because I tried to save her when Hades kidnapped her. But any time I see her, she seems happy as the queen. I don’t know if it’s all an act and she hates Hades as much as I do, or if she has her own reasons, but she saved me. The food didn’t come often, but it was enough to survive.”

  Orion’s gaze moves over me. “You’re thin.”

  I stiffen. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t able to retain big boobs while starving in a prison.”

  “That’s not what I said.” There’s a tick in his jaw.

  “Yeah, well, you might as well have.”

  Blaise clears his throat. “Food’s done.”

  He hands me a metal plate with curved sides, something I think would work as a bowl or plate. He spoons out food onto it, and then serves both of them. I blow on the food, breathing in the delicious scents, and when I can’t wait any longer, I dig in. Yeah, it burns my mouth a little, but I don’t care. I moan and eat, tasting each bite, rolling it around in my mouth, eyes closed, living for that food.

  When my fork finally scrapes the bottom, I ignore whatever the two might think and lick it clean. Then I set the plate down and sigh.

  Sure enough, they’re both staring at me, open-mouthed.

  “What?” I snap back.

  They both jump a little, then start eating their own food. I sigh again and lie back down on my side. Soon, we’ll have to keep going. The guys might think Hades can’t find us here, but I’ll never underestimate the assh
ole. And yet, I’ve never felt this tired or this weak in my entire life. I know it’s the baby, but remembering that my precious child is growing inside of me only adds to my need to be free.

  This baby won’t end up like my daughter, raised in hell. No, she’ll be free, no matter what it costs me.

  15

  Gary

  It has become a running joke amongst the Elites. We have lived for lifetime after lifetime and now every new appointed leader seems to die off or disappear quickly after taking over, including Norbert, who is nowhere to be found. The others are concerned about him, but I’m fairly confident the shade had gotten him alone and taken his head.

  I will not repeat the same mistakes as the men before me, both of whom I assume are dead. I will not pursue female monsters, nor will I try to improve the sanctuary. I will enjoy the benefits of leadership and that will be it.

  Unfortunately, one of my responsibilities came long before my new role, and even as the leader of my people, I still need to come when called. So I sit at the table in a little run-down house in the middle of nowhere. Close enough to the sanctuary that the trip is easy, but far enough from civilization that no one should spot this meeting, which is imperative.

  I hear a sound, and a second later, Conley enters. The phoenix looks youthful, although he’s been around nearly as long as I have. He has long blonde hair slicked back from his face and a cocky smile. He’s shirtless and wears shorts that are low over his hips. His feet have sneakers, like he’s some twenty-something-year-old human punk on the beach.

  Phoenixes are irritating.

  “Old man!”

  I glare. “Cocky phoenix.”

  He smirks, grabs a chair across me and flips it around, then sits in it backwards.

  I rub the bridge of my nose. I dislike this man nearly as much as I hate my crippled “son” Elliot. My anger grows. No matter how much I remind myself that I’ve disowned that failure, the word “son” seems to be forever attached to him.