[This post is from Hecate’s point of view.]
Panic dimmed her vision and she felt herself starting to retreat even as Matt’s arms closed around her. The shakes were coming, her heart hammering at twice its normal speed. She stared at Matt’s sister, at Marin, whose expression was stricken and mournful all at once.
You can’t do this now. You have to stay with him. Stay yourself. Hang on. You can do this. You need to do this.
Hecate closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, ragged breath. Pain lanced through her side and she tried to use it to stay focused. It was something tactile, something real, another touchstone that she could cling to beyond Matt. “Is he here? Has he come to demand my answer—to force my allegiance?”
She had no doubt that he would do just that—force her to work with him. He would use any leverage he could muster to bring her into the fold, to ensure her obedience if not her loyalty.
They’re in the line of fire. I—no. Even if I hadn’t come, they’d still be in danger.
“No,” Marin said softly. “No, he’s not here. He waylaid Cameron on the road.” Her gaze flicked toward Matt. “He was coming home from the settlement south of here.”
“The one with Nyx’s girl,” Hecate murmured. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Matt’s arm tightened.
“You know it?” Marin asked. Her tone was curious, not wary. That helped Hecate’s stomach settle, though only a little.
She nodded slowly. “I knew there were survivors there. I haven’t been since the fall.” She let her hands drop away from her face. Everything ached—still ached, even after days spent mostly in bed, mostly trying to recover. “I’ve lived near here for years, been to a lot of places, see and sensed a lot of people and tried to keep people from noticing me. It hasn’t been easy.”
Marin’s brows knit. “With as much power as you seem to have, why would you hide?” The question came as a whisper.
Matt’s arms tightened again. His body was tense alongside her. Hecate stroked one of his hands, finding the question didn’t hurt, didn’t scare her like maybe it would have before. It was the faint thread of fear in Marin’s voice that hurt, not the question itself. The question was something to focus on, even if it meant revealing more about herself than she usually liked.
But she’s my sister now, too. If I can’t trust them, who could I ever dream of trusting? I want to trust her.
I want her to trust me, too.
“Because I didn’t want them to find me,” Hecate answered, her whisper matching Marin’s. “With power comes people who want to use that power and I didn’t ever want to be used again.” Her eyes itched; her cheeks were wet. When had the tears begun? Her voice was still steady. How could she be crying? “I made a mistake when I went after Teague and Phelan in Chicago. I—in—I made a mistake.” She took a shaky breath and tried to exhale slowly. Her thoughts were scattering. Why was this so hard?
Marin stared at her and Hecate swore that she saw sympathy in the other woman’s gaze. Somehow that made the ache inside worse, made the guilt worse.
“Cíar was the only man I ever loved before your brother,” Hecate said, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “Going after the Princes of the Áes Dána, that was the only way that my crazy brain could figure out to get anywhere close to that feeling again. I knew that Cíar had been their friend, was related to them, at least as distant blood kin and I thought that maybe, just maybe…” She squeezed her eyes shut. Matt’s arms were still around her as she reached up to wipe away the tears on her face with the heel of her hand. “It was a mistake and I am so sorry. My control has never been what it should be, not since they took me away from home and made me into their monster.”
“Who?” Marin asked, her voice quiet.
“Olympium,” Hecate whispered. “Olympium made me what I am and I hate it.”
