Page 6 of Hex
“I’m in the cell next to yours, and it’s only polite to introduce myself.” She chuckles, more sprightly than I’d expect from someone in…well, in prison.
Trusting my instincts that she isn’t evil as fuck because we’re in the same situation here, I make the decision to share.
“I’m Sage. Huma—actually, I’m part er…” I clear my throat because it feels weird as hell to say the words out loud. “I’m part goddess, part witch, and part something I don’t know. Or, at least I will be in just less than two months.” I’m so close to getting one of my hands free of these ropes. If I just pull a little harder…
“Have you eaten yet?”
“Fuck!” I think I ripped some of my skin off with the rope, but I’m free! Yes!
“Was that a good fuck or a bad fuck?”
I laugh. “Both. I’m free of my shackles and have rope burn.” Holding my arms out in front of me, I inspect the red marks around my wrists. There’s no blood, it’s just beneath the surface of my skin.
“I bet Aggie tied you up. She thinks it’s fun to see how long the prisoners take to escape. Mera, on the other hand, is more quietly vicious.”
“How many of us are here?” We’re not exactly being quiet, speaking loudly enough that the other can hear through the gaps in our cell doors.
“Just the two of us now. They took the vampyre somewhere else a few days ago. She wasn’t here for long.”
My body goes still, frozen as I process what she just said…
“Do you know the vampyre’s name?”
Other than thedrip drip dripof the water, the silence is deafening. In reality, it’s no more than a few seconds of waiting, but it feels like a lifetime before Saffron finally speaks.
“Oh, yes. She was a princess too. Shame she had to go, but she kept spacing out—”
“Saffron, I’m so sorry to be rude, but I really need to know her name.”
“Danika.”
Chapter Three
Hack
“Take it easy, mate, you’re flat out like a lizard drinking.” One of my only friends, aside from the obvious brothers of the Apocalypse, is Grimm—a demon marshall—who runs the demon territory of Australia. In anthros form, he’s big. Bigger than me, and I tower over these humans on a good day. With long brown hair that he prefers wearing in a half bun, he has gold irises and doesn’t even try to hide their unnatural coloring.
They get him laid with just a glance and a nod, according to him. It comes to no one’s surprise that he and Slash are like brothers from another continent. Personally, I’m convinced his boy-next-door smile is what seals the deal for him but also, I don’t really give a fuck.
There’s no pretense or wise words from him concerning the Sage situation, but it’s no secret that I’m not myself and haven’t been since her death. I’m running myself haggard and I’m not surprised that it’s showing. At least here, at the pub, I can take a load off, while I ask questions, getting crumbs of information, even if inconsequential.
At first, my number one priority was finding Baba Yaga, hoping she’d have answers and ready to cause permanent damage if she didn’t help me. Like the last time I was there, her home was just an empty space. I travelled back to Europe, the Balkans, even North Africa, checking out every breadcrumb I could find from folklore but got nothing. Not a fucking thing.
After two weeks, I decided to follow my heart, and my heart is nothing if it’s not searching for Sage.
The thing is, I can feel her somehow. It’s bone deep and inexplicable. Every other time I’ve lost her it’s been just that…a loss. This time around, her presence continues to linger, even though I can’t quite put my finger on it, like a butterfly landing on my skin that flies away the second I try to pinpoint its location. Except it’s on the inside; my stomach, my heart, the boiling blood that runs through my veins. She’s there, but she’s not.
“Something’s not right. I’ve been through this song and dance at least a dozen times and it’s just not the same.” Grimm holds out two fingers and the bartender, who could pass for anthros but is a shifter in human clothing, nods just as he pushes a freshly tapped out ale to a nearby patron.
“I get it, and I’ll do what I can to sniff around some answers, but if you don’t get some rest, mate, you’re not good for anyone.”
I nod at his words, mostly because he’s right. It’s not that I’m tired in anthros terms, but I’ve exhausted my mental capacity to think straight. Problem is, regrouping means putting my search on hold and I’m not sure I can do that.
“I need to find her, Grimm.” I lower my voice so the anthros can’t eavesdrop. “I can feel her calling out to me but I can’t hear her.” I turn to look him in the eyes, needing him to see my desperation.
“She’ll be alright, mate.” I keep staring at him, letting his words of reassurance sink in.
“I hope so.”
