The worst thing was: Ares was right. Her magic wasn't infinite. As the head-on threat of him vanished, Hecate felt the ravages of exhaustion and the poison of her curse start to become the biggest part of her.
She nodded at Luna's words, and opened her mouth, and choked before she could speak. Hecate flung out her hand to catch herself on a car parked at the side of the road, and dropped to her knees over the gutter. Her throat hacked and her stomach rebelled and her mind couldn't quite manage to do anything other than exist as she threw up. Instead of the hot chocolate from Apollo she'd finished less than an hour before, what came out was black and vile, white and sticky. Hecate coughed it up till her throat burned, then struggled back to her feet with the back of her hand to her mouth (her lips burned like a brand on her skin).
She'd cursed another god with something powerful enough it needed to last for the rest of Luna's mortal life. And given him a week long taste of what would happen should the real curse eventuate. And thrown a version of it at several mortals. No wonder she was turning inside out.
"Get us out of here, Luna," she said, grabbing for Luna's arm with her free hand. "If he follows us now-" wasn't worth finishing.