Hecates gift, p.1
Hecate's Gift, page 1
part #1 of Challenge of the Gods Series
ECATE’S IF
hallenge of the ods rilogy
ook ne
By Cassandra Trussell
ontents
Title Page
Copyright © 2020 by Cassandra Trussell
edication
rologue
hapter ne
hapter wo
hapter hree
hapter our
hapter ive
hapter ix
hapter even
hapter ight
hapter ine
hapter en
hapter leven
hapter welve
hapter hirteen
hapter ourteen
hapter ifteen
hapter ixteen
hapter eventeen
hapter ighteen
hapter ineteen
hapter wenty
hapter wenty-ne
hapter wenty-wo
hapter wenty-hree
pilogue: art ne
pilogue: art wo
pilogue: art hree
cknowledgements
bout the uthor
ore ooks by assandra russell
Copyright © 2020 by Cassandra Trussell
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
Cassandra Trussell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
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first Edition
Cover art by Reaper Designs
Editing by Chanderella’s Editing Service
Formatting by Rozie Marshall
edication
Thank you, Mom, for always believing in me and supporting me no matter what. I love you.
rologue
asha
The flashy red sports car screeches and flips in a fishtail before stopping with the passenger side door ajar in front of me.
“Get in, loser. We got shit to do,” my best friend calls from the driver’s seat.
I roll my eyes and get in. “James, this idea has got to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever thought of.”
He flashes me a cocky smile and then slams his foot on the gas pedal, sending me flying back against the seat and the door to slam closed. This man is going to get us killed.
“Calm down, Sasha.” He spins the car around crazily before speeding back down the dark street. “You know I have you.”
“I’m calm,” I squeak and hastily put on my seat belt. “I just think that what we’re about to do is stupidly moronic.”
“Just because it was my idea doesn’t make it stupid.” His nimble fingers move over the volume and seek buttons of his stereo, and he switches stations to a punk rock band that is throwing heavy bass into the air.
“No, it’s just stupid because it’s stupid,” I grumble. James takes another sharp turn onto a smaller back road. Rattling in the back seat catches my attention and I turn my head to look. Bags and bags of spray paint fill the seats. “A horribly terrible idea that I can’t believe I’m going along with.”
“Relax, Sasha. Everything will be just fine.” There are no more flashing lights from the city, so the light from the dash plays eerily over his tattoos. The man is covered in tattoos and every time he does something stupid; he pops up the next day with a new one. I am surprised he has any unmarked flesh left.
“Says the President’s son. How the hell did you get away from your babysitters?” I clutch the Oh Shit Bar and grit my teeth to keep from biting my tongue off as he hits a bump. “I thought you were grounded from the last time you did something this irresponsible?”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m twenty goddamn years old!” he growls, slamming his palm on the steering wheel in frustration. “I should be able to do what I want when I want!”
“Even illegally protesting the cruelty of animal testing in a small factory in the middle of nowhere?” I wave vaguely to the seat behind me. “You know what we’re doing is illegal and the only one who’ll go to jail for it if they get caught is me, right?”
“Pfft.” He shut off his headlights as we got closer to the darkened building. The only light we can see is cast by the full moon that hangs heavy in the sky. “All I have to do is ask Dad to pardon you and you’ll be fine.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how it works, and you’re just being spoiled.” He gasps with his hand flying to his heart in mock pain before he stops the car and parks it a fair distance from any cameras.
“I can’t believe you just said that to me. It’s like you don't even know me at all.” He reaches back and grabs one of the many bags of spray paint and gets out of his car. “Move it or lose it, Salomnovic!”
I sigh and grab the other bag from the back seat. Of course, I am going to join him in this stupid affair. James shouldn’t be alone when he gets caught. Honestly, I wouldn’t even be doing anything other than handing him cans while keeping watch. We don’t lock the car, so we’d have an easy escape in case we got caught. Which we so will.
Four hours later, James’ masterpiece is done, and I am sufficiently surprised no one came to stop us or arrest us. The moon is nearly set behind us as we take a step back and survey his work. For the effort of a couple of vandals, it is pretty good. It isn’t creative in the least, but it is morbid. Dozens of bunnies, rats, and monkeys lie bloody and broken on the floor while caricatures of scientists loom darkly above them with syringes and razors.
James is an activist of some sort. He fights for LGBTQ, racial, gender, and animal rights. His main fight though, is ecological. Global warming, green energy and sustainable energy are his passion and he has fought for it most of his very young life. My favorite thing is how random it all seems. One week he’s protesting peacefully outside an oil factory and the next he’s chaining himself to a tree with dozens of other people. And I was there for every single one.
“Not bad, Mr. Davidson,” I praise, offering my fist for our usual fist bump.
He pounds his fist with mine with a wide smile. “This was the greatest outing ever.”
“Highly illegal. I should’ve done better at convincing you to not do this.” I nod and gather up the empty cans before making my way to the car. “You know we aren’t kids anymore and we can actually go to jail for this shit?”
“Well, yeah that’s half the fun, Sasha!” He slung his arm around my shoulders. At least he tried to, it was more like he laid his arm across my shoulders. The man is freaking Lurch!
He, at six foot seven, towers over me at my four foot nine. Yes, I am pissed that puberty didn’t give me a little more. Yes, I have to adjust the seat every time he lets me drive his car. Yes, he sits there and laughs while I do it. No, I’m not at all bitter about it.
“Do you think dad will like it?” We get in the car and buckle up.
James’ Dad is David Davidson, President David Davidson of the United States of America. David married Sheryl Davis and together they had James and his sister Rita. Behind closed doors, they are absolutely pro anything his son and daughter do but won’t support it in front of the media in case it’s illegal. Like this outing. The media dubbed James as America’s Rebel Child, while Rita is the Angel. She’s only eight but has so much potential as a future activist like her older brother. She protests bedtime, school, and timeouts flawlessly. Too bad the media hasn’t caught any of her temper tantrums on camera. She also doesn’t like me.
President Davidson insists that James live with the family in the house. He also insists that I don’t call him President Davidson because I am considered part of his family and should only call him Mr. Davidson or Dad. He has the purest of intentions, but I just keep calling him Mr. Presidente. It’s a little less formal and he seems to like it. Rita calls him President Dad, which the media eats up like candy. James and his father get along in the sense that James is still trying to figure out exactly who he is, and his dad is doing the overbearing, I love you so much thing. I honestly don’t know how he runs a country while he’s being a helicopter parent.
“Your dad is going to love it, because you did it,” I reply confidently. “There’s no way that he won’t love anything that you do.”
“Damn it! How hard is it supposed to be to make your parents hate you, even just a little?” We speed back d
When I told my parents that I wanted to practice Hellenic theism instead of the rigid Catholicism I was raised on they kicked me out on my ass. It was also the time I found out that I was adopted. They said that I wasn’t the child God had given them, that the Devil had his hand in my placement. I could’ve argued that I was a test that God was giving them and that they failed, but I didn’t care enough about them to try.
“Man, I don’t care about those people,” I wave him off flippantly.
“I know, but it still has to hurt.” He reaches his hand over and clasps mine tightly between the seats. “I know you know I’m just joking, but sometimes I wonder if you think I’m serious.”
“I know you're joking, James.” I smile and squeeze his hand back. “I’d kick your ass with whatever strength Ares is willing to give.”
“You’d pray to the God of War to kick my ass?” he gasped mockingly. “Now I’m really offended.”
“No, you’re not.” I can’t keep the silly grin off my face. I love these little teasing moments we have together. He doesn’t understand my religion, but he accepts it and all of me that comes with it. Just like how I am willing to accept him and his crazy-ass family.
I look over at his smiling face and can’t help that my silly grin morphs into something softer. I watch his eyes widen in horror for a brief moment and then feel the seatbelt cut into my chest. My body jerks forward and then back, and the lights blind me, or maybe I had closed my eyes.
Everything is still and quiet. When I open my eyes, I am hanging from the seat and my inky black hair drapes above me in a dark pool. My head is pounding, and it feels like it is floating in space rather than being attached to my neck. James. I look around me and James is no longer in the car. Panic bubbles in my chest and I scramble to unbuckle my seatbelt. I fall onto my shoulders with a painful jarring motion.
“James!” I call out, but my voice is quiet even to my own ears. There is a ringing in my head I assume is the cause of my hearing loss. “James!”
I crawl out of the busted passenger window, the glass embedding into my skin. The pavement is soaked with rain and oil. Blood maybe? No, don’t go there Sash! I look around me trying to find any sign that James is nearby, but the light of the moon isn’t enough for me to see by.
“Goddess Hecate, grant me the power to see by the light of the moon.” I have no idea if this will work. I’ve never prayed to my Gods in a time of need, only in thanks for what they've already given me. “Goddess Artemis, grant me your wisdom of the hunt to guide me toward my friend.”
“All gifts come with a sacrifice, young Witch.” The voice is silky smooth and whispers through my mind like water.
“What are you willing to give us?” This voice is different and far harsher in comparison to the other.
Shocked and frozen in place, I start to feel the pain of my many injuries. “I’m willing to give all you demand of me if it saves my friend.”
“A foolish bargain,” the silky voice comments. I can’t see her, but I sense that she is talking to her companion.
“Noble. I admire her tenacity,” the steely voice replies.
“You admire more than her tenacity, Artemis.” So, this one is Hecate, and she is teasing Artemis. Well, Artemis is a virginal goddess, she has to get her rocks off somewhere. “Ooohh, I like the way this one thinks!”
“Yes, she is intelligent. I’ll give her that.” The tone of Artemis' voice is almost sultry, but I chose to ignore it.
“Yes, so intelligent that she offered a sacrifice of our choice.” The silky voice turned thoughtful. “Do you think we should go easy on her?”
“Yes, what do you want from her?” I feel a caress along my shoulders, but when I turn there is nothing that I can see.
“She’s already devoted her worship to our pantheon.” There is another caress, this time down my spine. I am getting a little impatient. James could be dying as we speak, and we are going through semantics!
“Who do you think is going to give you the power to save him?” Artemis asks softly against my ear. “Your Gods have all the power, Sasha. We can give it to you, but we need something from you we don’t already have.”
“What do you want from me?” I ask. “I’ll give you anything you ask if it’s within my power to give.”
“I like that answer.” Another caress, this time it feels like lips along my cheek. “We should keep her.”
“Maybe we can give you the power you seek, but you need to study more upon your history,” Hecate says thoughtfully. “The power we grant you is but an enhancement of the power you already contain. The sacrifice we ask of you is to devote your life to the study of magic.”
Makes sense. If this isn’t all a hallucination brought on by a very bad concussion then magic being real in comparison to speaking to Gods isn’t that far of a leap. It also means that I will be studying magic.
“We want your bloodline to continue and thrive Sasha.” An unseen hand moves from my shoulder to my breast and then further to my hips. “We would like your bloodline to serve us for as long as possible.” Artemis’ hand dips between my thighs and she hums in my ear. “Virginal? In this day and age?”
A hot blush creeps up my neck at her comment. “I could say the same about you.”
Her laugh rings out through the empty night, creating a smoky atmosphere. “I do like you, Sasha. It’s going to be fun getting to know you for the rest of your mortal life.”
I feel the air pressure change and a breeze blow across my face. Artemis is gone, but I know she’ll be back.
“With Arty gone, we can negotiate.” The air changes and in front of me stands a tall lean woman. Her eyes are dark, and her hair bobbed in a severe line at her jaw. She is all harsh lines, but a smile lightens her face. “Sasha, dear,” her arms spread, and she pulled me close into an embrace. “The power you are capable of is immense, but you lack knowledge and practice.”
I just want to find James and help him. “How does this help my friend?”
“It would if you had control over them.” She pulls away to look me in my eyes. “I want your bloodline to serve the Gods faithfully. To learn and practice magic as they were meant to from the start.”
“I don’t understand.” I sway on my feet as I stare at her. She isn’t making any sense at all.
“Your birth mother should have been the one to teach you how to use your power, and to teach you our ways.” She clasps my hand in hers tightly before continuing her life-altering spiel of information. “She was an amazing woman who devoted her life to helping others. Had I known where you ended up I would have intervened.”
“What? My mother? Intervened?” I am stunned almost speechless. “Can we discuss this after I save my friend?”
“Swear an oath to me that you’ll continue your mother's work.” Her eyes are alight with a fervor I don’t understand.
“I swear to continue my birth mother’s work. If it’s something that I can do, I’ll do it. Please just help me find my friend,” I beg. Pain tears through my body getting worse by the second. I am in bad shape and I wasn’t even ejected out of the car.
She smiles a toothy smile that should have given me the shivers and grabs my hands again. “By your word, our bond is sealed.” Energy pulses from her palms to mine. “The sight of the moon and the knowledge of the hunt is granted to you. I give you the knowledge of Asclepius as a gift, it is only temporary. Should you wish to pursue this knowledge further that is within your rights also.” She smiles again and presses her palm to my eyes. A burning warmth and a piercing pain shoots into my skull. I know too much at that moment. It feels like my head is about to explode!
“Now take your gifts and save your friend.” She removes her hand and presses a kiss to my forehead before the air shifts and she is gone.
When I open my eyes, I have to squint. The night is no longer dark and undecipherable. It is bright and clear as it is in the daytime but has a calmer feel to it. My eyes focus on the windshield of the now crushed sports car and then the glass spread out on the ground. It leads to a trail off to the side. Tire tracks that do not belong to the sports car go in the opposite direction through the guardrail and off the cliff into the lake. That driver is most likely dead by now. I can’t help them, so I have to find James. I follow the trail of glass off of the road and into the ditch. A trail of blood stuck to the blades of grass and bits of gravel lead off into the forest.
