Read Prison of Hope for Free Online Page A

she currently calls her husband.”
    Petra’s argument faltered with a sigh. “It’s not that simple. She had no choice. Hyperion needed her help.”
    I sat back in the booth and took a deep breath. “Everyone has a choice. She just made a bad one. And I’m not sure why Hyperion needing her help equates to her marrying someone else. If you know more, Petra, maybe you should tell me.”
    Petra shook her head and walked off, and I went back to finishing my chips and bread. We’d had the same conversation since Selene and I had ended our relationship, and usually it wound up with either Kurt interjecting himself to calm things down or with Petra punching me. Clearly, after almost a century of being apart, it was finally starting to sink in with Petra that Selene and I would never be together again.
    I wondered why Petra had such a hard time of letting it go. I’d heard the stories about how Selene’s husband whored around and that the two of them barely spent any time in one another’s company. And I knew that Petra and Selene had always been close, but I didn’t care. She was miserable with a man I knew she didn’t love, but she had married him anyway. I’d heard the excuses about not having a choice, and that Selene had to marry him for this reason or that, but none of them ever changed my mind.
    I polished off the food and drink, taking my time as people came and went around me. Several beers later, and after adding a lovely warm chocolate brownie with a chocolate fudge sauce and fresh cream to my bill, Petra still hadn’t come back to yell at me some more. I was almost finished with the brownie when a pretty, young woman sat down opposite me.
    “Hello, sorcerer,” she said. She had a South London accent, although it wasn’t very pronounced.
    “And you are?” I asked, looking up from my brownie and licking the remains from my spoon.
    “Sarah Hamilton.” Sarah was, from what I saw in a glance before she sat down, a few inches taller than me. She was thin, with pronounced cheekbones, long elegant fingers, and perfectly manicured nails, painted blue. She wore no jewelry on her hands or wrists, but two diamond studs sat in each ear. Her long, light-brown hair was swept back in a ponytail, which had fallen over one shoulder. She wore a black jacket, under which was a scruffy, light-blue, zipped hoodie that was at odds with the nails and earrings, as if she were trying to blend in with the casual appearance of everyone else I’d seen in town, but couldn’t be without at least a few of her finer things.
    “And how can I help you, Sarah?” I asked.
    “Telling me your name would be nice.”
    “Nate,” I said. There was no point in lying. Despite various sources throughout history saying otherwise, no one can do magic on you just because they know your name. If they could, a big portion of the world’s inhabitants would be up to their neck in curses.
    Sarah smiled. “Excellent. Well, Nate, I’m here to offer you a chance to leave this town before your presence means I have to deal with you on a much harsher basis.”
    I quickly glanced around the restaurant, not wanting to take my attention away from Sarah too much, but there was no one around I’d have considered a threat.
    “Nothing will happen in this restaurant,” she said.
    I reset my gaze on Sarah. “Does this have anything to do with Mara and those witches? Are you another one of the coven?”
    Sarah shook her head. “I am a witch—that much is true—but not part of Mara’s coven. Mara is, quite frankly, an idiot.”
    Sarah produced a palm-sized, round rock from her pocket, placing it between us. It was smooth all over, and it looked a little like someone had drawn a compass on it, but instead of the usual “N,” “S,” etc., there were small runes. Three of the runes were black, while the one pointing toward me was white.
    “Do you know what this is?” she asked.
    I nodded. “I haven’t seen one for a while.” The small item was a