Hecate's Spell (Monsters and Gargoyles #7) - Lacey Carter Andersen

1

Hecate

My head jerks off my knees as my eyes flash open. In the darkness, broken only by a torch in the hall, I can’t see what might have disturbed my uncomfortable slumber. I know it isn’t the chattering of my teeth. Over the years, I’ve gotten used to being so cold that my jaw aches from constantly chattering. Even in sleep, my naked body is always covered in goosebumps, and my mouth continues to work. So that noise I expect... What woke me...this is something new.

And probably bad.

Slowly, I push myself off the icy stone and into a sitting position. My body is tight from being curled up on the stone for so long, but as I shift, the skin on my back pulls from the many scars that had healed so badly. The pulling is a constant reminder of the whip that had struck my flesh over and over again the last time I tried to escape, and yet it bothers me less than the memory of Andros being whipped.

Pain I have tolerated, over and over again. Watching the gargoyle I love be hurt for trying to help me escape? It tears at my soul.

But then, Hades had known what he was doing. He is, after all, the King of the Underworld, and an expert in the art of torture. He wanted to be sure we didn’t try to escape again, and his message had been understood, loud and clear.

The asshole.

We hadn’t tried again since. Me because I never again want to see my gargoyle hurt, but Andros because he still believes his brother is coming to save us. I don’t have the heart to tell him that no matter how much his brother loved him, journeying to the Underworld has only been done by a handful of people throughout time.

I didn’t know his brother, but I doubt he will be the next one to venture to the pits of Hades. But I’m glad that Andros has hope still. Because he’s the only thing I still believe in.

Again, I hear a small sound, and I wince, drawing my legs up to my naked chest. It could be anything. A demon or one of Hades’ skeleton guards walking the halls of the prisons, a guard bringing me food that I never touch, or maybe, just maybe, Persephone’s maid sneaking me food from the human world.

I’d only met Hades’s wife once. The beautiful goddess, daughter of Demeter, goddess of seasons, had snuck down to the prisons wearing a dark cloak. She had coaxed me to come closer to the bars of my cell, then she had whispered a warning: should I eat anything from the Underworld, I would be trapped here forever, like her. She had said that no matter how hungry I got, to eat nothing that the guards brought, and that she would bring me food every chance she could get. She never told me why she was helping me, but I suspect it’s because I tried so hard to find her when Hades kidnapped her and dragged her down to the Underworld.

No matter what her reasons were, I was lucky to have an ally in this dark place.

The food from her doesn’t come as often as I wish, but it’s enough for me to survive. And I know she’s taking a risk helping me, so I try to be grateful. Otherwise, at some point I would have caved and eaten, and then I’d be trapped here forever.

I hope the sound is her maid. My stomach actually growls at just the thought, but I’m prepared to be disappointed. When nine times out of ten it’s just someone bringing me pain, I learned pretty quickly to expect to suffer.

Another sound comes, this time closer. I hate that my body begins to shake and that I push further back. But it seems my body wants me to be afraid, even if my soul refuses to cower to Hades and his monsters.

Suddenly, I see Andros between the bars of my cage. My heart soars at the sight of my gargoyle, but I know better than to say a word. His eyes are filled with so much sadness and so much pain that it rips at something deep inside me. He looks the same way he did when he arrived here, his dark hair cut super short, a slight scruff of a beard on his face, and corded muscles in his neck.

Just like most souls, he hasn’t changed since his death, but he is