Project Pandora

by Aden Polydoros

  “You poor thing.”

  “A kiss might make me feel better.”

  She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers, far from the abrasions. As she released his hand, he cradled her cheek in his palm. His thumb stroked the corner of her mouth, teasing her lower lip.

  “So beautiful,” he murmured, leaning closer.

  Inches away from a kiss, she raised her hand, gently pressing it against his chest.

  “Not here,” she said. “I don’t want to get in trouble if someone catches us.”

  They went back outside so that Hades could put his clothes away. As Elizabeth waited by the gate, Ms. Hill nudged her shoulder.

  “Is he a friend of yours?” Ms. Hill asked.

  “My bodyguard,” she said, then blushed, realizing her slipup. “I meant boyfriend.”

  Ms. Hill lifted her eyebrows so high they disappeared beneath the brim of her witch’s hat. “Is that so?”

  “He’s going to be transferring here soon.” Elizabeth turned to Principal Brown. “Right?”

  “Uh, I wouldn’t know,” Principal Brown said, rubbing his bald head in obvious befuddlement.

  Before she could ask Principal Brown if he remembered Hades from the enrollment meeting, Hades returned to her side.

  “Ready?” he asked.

  She smiled. “Ready.”

  As they neared the gymnasium, he strode ahead and opened the door for her. The gym had become a dance floor overnight. Fake cobwebs and crepe streamers festooned the walls, while black and orange balloons drifted across the ceiling. Pop music played on speakers, and red lights cast the room in an eerie light.

  The ruby glow drained the pigment from his irises, turning them as gray as gravestone marble, and honed his jawline and hard cheekbones into lethal edges.

  Walking into the gymnasium, he drew an arm around her waist and held her close to him. She treasured the warmth of his body and the sense of security his touch brought her. She felt that nothing could go wrong when they were together.

  “Oh, I love this song,” Elizabeth said, cocking an ear toward the speakers. “Come on, let’s dance. It’ll be fun.”

  Hades smiled at her, but she could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “I’ve never danced before.”

  “Never?”

  “I had a very unusual upbringing.”

  “I kind of figured,” she said, laughing.

  “I know how to march,” he said, “but that’s about it.”

  “March?” she asked, surprised. Was he in the marching band at school?

  He swung his leg forward and stomped his shoe—boots instead of Grecian sandals like hers—against the ground. As he marched forward, he kept his body straight and rigid. His posture was perfect, and though the flowing toga lent elegance to his hard, abrupt movements, she could easily envision him in a military uniform.

  He stopped in front of her and stood at attention. When he noticed she was giggling, he started laughing as well.

  “I haven’t done that in years,” he admitted. “But it comes back to me.”

  “I’m guessing you didn’t learn that in your school’s marching band?” she asked. It almost seemed like a soldier’s march, like something out of a harsher, more totalitarian time.

  “Probably not.”

  “If you can do that, I think you’ll be able to dance just fine.”

  Hades was a quick learner and, after the first few missteps, caught on to the nature of the dance. Soon enough, he and Elizabeth moved in perfect rhythm, as if they were two parts of a larger machine, working in synchronization. With each step, his muscles rippled and flexed beneath his clothes.

  Every so often, when there was a loud noise, he glanced in that direction. Twice, he took his hand off her to reach for his waist, though he had no pockets.

  Laughing, she drew his arm back to her. “Why do you always do that?”

  “What? I can’t hear you.”

  She shook her head and smiled at him. She had to elevate her voice to be heard. “Do you want a drink?”

  “A what?”

  “A drink!” she shouted and, taking his wrist, led him to the snack table.

  Gone were the days of punchbowls. Cans of soda chilled in ice, alongside bowls of candy, cupcakes, and cookies. A scatter of fake cobwebs and plastic spiders decorated the orange tablecloth.

  Hades appeared more interested in the food than the drinks. He inhaled half a sleeve of Oreos, washed them down with a can of ginger ale, and then turned his attention toward the cupcakes.

  She picked up a can of root beer, popped the lid, and took a sip. The soda fizzed in her stomach, and she burped loudly. Blushing, she imagined what her mother would say.

  Very unladylike, Elizabeth, she thought and giggled. She felt tipsy, as if just being in his presence intoxicated her. His dark, irresistible aroma gave her such a rush.

  Her joy didn’t last. As she turned to Hades, icy liquid splashed down the front of her dress, and she found herself face-to-face with her ex-boyfriend, Adam Fletcher.

  “Oops,” Adam said, blinking in feigned surprise. “I didn’t see you there, Elizabeth. Sorry about that.”

  Her smile died in an instant, and she began trembling in anger and embarrassment. Cold, sticky soda permeated her dress, darkening the rosy fabric. She heard laughter all around her as the surrounding students remarked on what had happened.

  “Looks like Little Miss Perfect pissed herself,” a girl said gleefully. Elizabeth searched the crowd for the girl but couldn’t find her.

  “You’re dead,” Hades said and took a step toward Adam. His clenched jaw carved rigid shadows into his cheeks.

  “Hey, it was just an accident, man,” Adam said, giving him a snide smirk. “Go back to stuffing your face.”

  “Hey.” Elizabeth grabbed Hades’s wrist and pulled him back. “It’s okay. Come on. I need to go to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Let’s go.”

  As much as she wanted to watch him beat Adam to a bloody pulp, she knew her parents would kill her if her secret date got in a fight with the son of the district attorney. She didn’t want Hades getting arrested over something as petty as a spilled soda.

  Blinking back tears of rage, she walked out of the gymnasium and into the deserted hall. Cold soda drizzled down her legs and landed on the floor. Her only comfort was the warmth of his fingers entwined through her own.

  As she reached the ladies’ room, he stopped her.

  “Wait, I think I know a better way.”

  She wiped her eyes and looked up at him. “A better way?”

  “To clean you up,” he said, a smirk on his lips.

  A blush seared her cheeks. “I’m not stripping, if that’s what you’re trying to suggest.”

  “You don’t have to,” he said, leaning forward. He nuzzled her dripping neck, his breath hot against her skin. His mouth pressed against her jawline, then lowered to her clavicle with playful slowness. She felt his teeth lightly graze her as he licked the soda off her skin.

  “Ugh, no licking or biting, please.” Elizabeth started laughing. “You’re such an animal.”

  “I get that a lot.” Hades stepped back and regarded her with a half smile. His lips were slightly parted, his pupils dilated and hungry with desire. Though he maintained a relaxed posture, his body swelled with hidden tension. Every step, shifting muscle, and minute gesture of his radiated a powerful, almost bestial virility.

  He reminded her of a wildcat preparing to pounce, and that thought made her heart race. She wanted to kiss him, but she didn’t dare. Not here, where anyone could see them.

  “My parents will kill me if I come home with hickeys,” she explained. “And I don’t want to get expelled for an extreme PDA.”

  “PDA?”

  “Public display of affection.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, brushing his hair out of his face. She loved how spectacularly messy his hair was, as if it refused to be tamed by any comb or brush. She wanted to stroke her fingers throug
h the thick, glossy strands.

  She thought about what her parents would think of his hairstyle, so different from the hordes of Harvard clips and neat comb-overs that overran Manderley Prep. Knowing how her parents would flip at the sight of Hades only made him more irresistible, like a forbidden fruit she couldn’t help but take a bite from.

  “I should really get this washed off,” she said, then winked at him. “I’ll be out in a few minutes. Just try not to kill anyone in the meanwhile.”

  “What about maim?”

  Past his teasing smile, she saw a lingering trace of anger. Maybe it was just her imagination.

  “No maiming, either,” she said and ducked into the restroom.

  Standing at the counter, she dampened a wad of paper towels under the faucet and wiped off her legs and chest. She tried her best to clean the stained fabric, using liquid soap from the dispenser, but the brown mark remained.

  She wished Adam would just leave her alone. He had been bothering her since sophomore year, when the first thing he had done after she had returned to school was try to kiss her. Maybe the pre-accident Elizabeth would have allowed that, but it had felt like a serious violation to her.

  She felt no attraction to Adam, no attachment. Nothing but disgust as he attempted to woo his way back into her heart. Once, he had even asked her if she wanted to try ecstasy, as if that was any way for a senator’s daughter to behave.

  Giving up trying to remove the stain, she stood beneath the hand dryer, bending her knees to allow the hot air to reach the worst of the dampness on her dress. She felt ridiculous squatting like that, and she was glad Hades wasn’t there to see her.

  She smiled, remembering his offer. Anything considered a public display of affection was forbidden on school grounds. Even making out led to suspensions. His high school must be way more lax about its PDA policy.

  When she returned to the hall, she found him leaning against the row of lockers, his arms crossed.

  “Do you want to go back to the gym?” he asked as she walked over.

  “No, um, I don’t really want to dance anymore,” she admitted. “I’m sorry. It’s just that everyone saw me get drenched. If I go back there, I’m going to feel like Carrie.”

  “Who’s Carrie?”

  “She’s the main character in that Stephen King movie. The one about the psychic girl.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  “She gets covered in pig blood at her prom. That’s what I meant.”

  “Oh.” Hades gave it some thought. “I don’t like dances anyway.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “I had a feeling.”

  “Let’s go for a ride,” he said. “We can get something to eat.”

  “Do you have a bottomless pit for a stomach?” she asked, glancing at his washboard abs.

  “Sublimation.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what the doctor calls it. It’s the same reason I work out.” Hades leaned toward her, his lips rising in a seductive smile. “A way to alleviate the urge.”

  She felt a tingling deep in the pit of her stomach. “What urge?”

  “To devour you, Miss Hawthorne,” he said and seized her.

  She gasped in surprise as he dragged her against him, then started laughing when he pretended to eat her neck.

  “If you want to be a vampire, you should have chosen a name like Edward or Lestat instead of Hades,” Elizabeth said as he released her.

  “I don’t get it.”

  “They’re…” She sighed. “Never mind.”

  “Besides, I already told you I don’t have a name.”

  “Fine. Your ‘proof of ownership.’” She leaned against him and rested her head on his chest. “You know what’s funny? I feel like I’ve known you forever. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s true. When I saw you the first time, it was like a reunion. I can’t tell you how happy I feel, just being here with you.”

  Hades ran a hand through her hair. His fingers lingered on her neck then eased down her back. “I feel the same way.”

  Lifting her head, she stared into his vivid blue eyes. Now more than ever, they reminded her of twin gas flames, smoldering with hunger.

  Then his lips were on hers, and words like “PDA” and “suspension” and “scandal” disappeared from her vocabulary.

  Seized by a frantic passion, she drove herself against his muscular body. Her hands moved in an animal-like frenzy, sliding from his broad shoulders to his long, unkempt hair to the chiseled ridges of his cheekbones.

  That intoxicating natural aroma of his rolled over her, like smoke and burnt cinnamon, muddling her thoughts and leaving her trembling with need.

  Elizabeth explored his body as if she were seeing it for the first time. She stroked his face and neck then wrapped her arms around his back to trace the hard contours of his muscles through his clothes.

  As his hands eased from her shoulder blades to her waist and gripped her sleek dress, a commotion from behind her cut their kiss short.

  “I told you, she’s a little slut,” Adam called, to accompanying laughter.

  Elizabeth let go of Hades and backed away. She smoothed her skirt down with trembling hands, mortified that she had been caught in the act.

  As she turned to Adam, her heart sank further. Adam had his smartphone out and was pointing it at her. Flanking him were two boys she recognized from the football team, Chris and Derek.

  “Why don’t you feel him up a bit?” Adam suggested, earning another bout of laughter. “Put on a real show for YouTube. Hey, do you think he’d like to hear about that time we did it in the school parking lot after homecoming?”

  “That’s not true!” Elizabeth said, and in the corner of her eye, she watched Hades grow rigid.

  “Just because you lost your memory doesn’t mean it didn’t happen, sweetheart. You think you’re doing a convincing job, playing Little Miss Perfect? You’re not fooling anyone here. Maybe you think the car crash gives you an excuse to just give me the cold shoulder, cut me off like you don’t even know me, but it doesn’t. We had something, Elizabeth, and you turned it all to shit.”

  “That was two years ago, Adam!”

  “I don’t care. Nobody walks away from me like that. Never.”

  “You’re going to stop talking now,” Hades said, his voice low and calm, almost pleasant.

  She looked up at him—and froze.

  A dangerous smile played on his lips. In his searing blue eyes, rage reflected like a flame in clear glass.

  For the first time in his presence, Elizabeth felt a twinge of fear.

  “Make me,” Adam said.

  Hades slid his gaze to Adam’s waist and regarded him thoughtfully. Elizabeth looked down, too, and wondered what had caught his attention—the fact that Adam’s fly was unzipped or the belt he wore, embellished with an ornate Navajo buckle.

  “Nice belt buckle,” Hades said, striding forward.

  Adam’s arrogant smirk faded by a degree. “What?”

  “Looks very expensive.”

  “Why do you care?” Adam scoffed. “What are you doing staring at my junk anyway? You some sort of fairy? That the kind of guy you go for now, Elizabeth?”

  “Those blue stones are turquoise, right?” Hades asked, stopping a hand’s reach from Adam.

  “What’s it to you?”

  “When you get hit with a belt with a buckle like that, it doesn’t just bruise,” he said in a low, sensual murmur. “It cuts deep. It scars. Do it hard enough and it can cut you nearly to the bone.”

  “Is that a threat?” Adam asked, narrowing his eyes which were the color of rancid grease. A trace of uneasiness showed through his sneer.

  “No, I don’t make threats. I make promises.”

  “My dad’s the district attorney,” Adam said, taking a step back.

  “What difference does that make?” Hades stepped forward.

  “If you touch me, he’ll sue your ass.”

  “How can you sue someone who doesn’t ex
ist?”

  “The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Get down on your knees and apologize to her, or you’re going to find out.”

  “I’d like to see you try,” Adam said and brought his other hand forward to push Hades away.

  Before Adam’s palm could make contact, Hades seized his arm and twisted it away, while at the same time slamming his shoe into the back of Adam’s knee.

  With a grunt of pain, Adam’s leg gave out beneath him.

  Using his own weight as a driving force, Hades rammed Adam into a locker face-first, then viciously wrenched the boy’s arm backward at the joint.

  Even from where she stood, Elizabeth heard the sickening crunch of breaking bone. Her stomach twisted at the sound. It was almost as gruesome as the gargled cry Adam made.

  Hades hammered him once more into the locker, hard enough to dent the metal door, and then threw him to the ground.

  “Are we still recording?” Hades asked, laughing in obvious amusement.

  Adam curled in a ball on the floor, clutching his shattered nose with his good arm. His other arm flopped at his side, bent like a snapped twig. Violent sobs racked his body.

  Hades kicked Adam onto his back and stomped down on the cell phone, breaking it. Then he stomped down on his ankle, with similar results.

  “Do you think the people on YouTube will like this?” he mused as Adam writhed in agony, screaming through a bloodied mouth.

  Going to their friend’s defense, Chris and Derek bum-rushed Hades. He dodged each punch that the boys threw at him, with trained ease, until Derek tackled him from behind and put him in a choke hold.

  “Stop fighting!” she shouted, shaken by how quickly the situation had turned violent.

  Hades grabbed Derek’s arm with both hands. Bending at his knees and waist and arching his back, he used the sudden forward motion to throw Derek over his shoulders and onto the floor.

  Derek hit the tile hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, and he began gasping for breath. With a ruthlessness that horrified Elizabeth, Hades kicked him in the head, twice. On the first blow, Derek spat out blood and teeth. On the second, he went still.

  “Hades, stop!” she said. “Stop, you’re going to kill him. What’s wrong with you? Please stop!”