Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group)

by Andrea Domanski

  Letting loose a little giggle, Mirissa said, “Normally, people swallow the pills with the water, but whatever works for you.”

  “Thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like a moment alone to digest all of this.” Flip gave her his most sincere look, which came more easily than it should have.

  “Of course. If you need anything, just ask.” She squeezed his shoulder before joining the rest of the group.

  Flip focused his healing energy toward the burn on his hand. With his powers, the injury should have healed as quickly as it formed, but that wasn’t happening. If anything, it looked to be getting worse. Ares, what was that?

  No response. Either he no longer listened, or Ares didn’t know any more than Flip did. Flip hoped it was the latter. Although answers would have been helpful, the small victory of stumping the arrogant god of war was worth the pain.

  Almost closing his eyes, Flip leaned back in the chair. He wanted to be able to watch the girl without anyone feeling the need to come over and talk to him. Feigning sleep seemed like a good ploy. Although they were keeping their voices low, he could easily make out what the Omega Group talked about. The girl, her mother, and the annoyingly attractive boy were going to visit Tritonia to speak with Artemis.

  He watched them lie down on the bed in preparation for sending their consciousness to the dimension where the Amazon’s island home existed. Mirissa gave one last glance in his direction before warning the behemoth Orano to be nice. She was definitely protective, that one.

  ********

  Mirissa glanced around the clearing in the woods where her consciousness always landed on their trips to Tritonia. The entire place stood empty. “Are we in the right dimension?”

  Her mother looked equally concerned. “Myrine,” she called out to her namesake. “Are you here?”

  “I am.” The calming voice came from directly behind them.

  “Where is everyone?” Mirissa asked as she spun to meet their ancient queen.

  “They are home with their families, where they belong.”

  Something in the queen’s eyes told Mirissa there was a lot more to the story, but she decided to let it go. There were more urgent things to discuss. “We really need to speak to Artemis.”

  “She is waiting for you,” the queen said as she ushered them toward the goddess’s statue.

  Mirissa felt sure they could have spoken to the goddess without being near the statue. During the battle at Ortega, Artemis spoke to Mirissa telepathically while she’d been unconscious and saved her from having all of her powers drained by a succubus. The enormous statue was nothing more than a physical likeness, but, she had to admit, talking to it rather than empty air did make her feel a little less crazy.

  “Artemis?” Mirissa’s mother called out. “We need your help.”

  “I’m here,” the melodic voice of the goddess of the hunt replied. “I will tell you what I know, but that is as much as I’m allowed to do.”

  “Is it really Pandora’s box causing all of this?” Mirissa’s mother asked.

  “I’m afraid so,” Artemis said.

  Mirissa thought the goddess sounded tired. The strength that normally radiated through her voice had been replaced by something else. Despair? “I remember the story of Pandora from my Mythology class. Zeus gave her a box and told her not to look inside. She got curious, opened it, and let all of the world’s evils out.”

  “Not exactly,” Artemis replied. “You see, this planet you call Earth was once our playground. For millennia, the gods held dominion here. When Zeus created man, he gave this world to you, which angered many of the gods, none more so than Eris, the goddess of discord. She tried, unsuccessfully, to rally the other gods against Zeus. When that didn’t work, she turned her wrath toward mankind. Destroying all humans became her sole purpose. ”

  Mirissa’s mind whirled. Although she’d accepted the reality of Greek gods long ago, she still thought of them as background characters in a story revolving around humans.

  “We are, for the most part,” Artemis said, in response to Mirissa’s unspoken thoughts. “You must understand that the majority of us sided with Zeus. Watching humans from afar has been a great source of entertainment for us. Eris, however, could not be appeased. She inflicted every manner of disaster on the earth in her quest to reclaim it from you. When she caused a great flood to cover the lands, Zeus was forced to intervene.”

  “Hang on,” Mirissa interrupted. “When you say ‘a great flood,’ are you talking about the whole forty days and forty nights thing?”

  “Yes, young warrior. That event almost caused your extinction. Zeus knew, in your primitive state, you were no match for Eris’s wrath. His only option was to contain her.”

  Greco spoke for the first time since Artemis began her story. “So, he stuck her in a box?”

  “Yes. But to appease the gods who supported her, he struck a bargain. The box would stay closed for five thousand years, giving mankind time to evolve. When it was again opened, humans would have to prove their worthiness by defeating Eris, with no interference from the gods on either side.”

  “And if we can’t?” Mirissa asked.

  “Eris will eradicate you all, leaving the world, once again, to the gods alone.”

  “That makes no sense,” Greco said. “Even with five thousand years to evolve, Zeus had to know humans would be no match for an angry goddess.”

  “He did. Why do you think he allowed preternaturals to populate the earth? He knew that when the time came, only a human with exceptional powers would be able to close the box.”

  “And that’s me? My key is meant to close it?” Mirissa’s voice shook under the weight of the awesome responsibility.

  “Yes, Mirissa. Zeus fashioned the key all those centuries ago and entrusted it to a woman whose descendant would be destined to be the key-holder upon Eris’s return.”

  “Pandora,” Mirissa said, putting the pieces together in her mind. “I’m Pandora’s descendant.”

  “It is your destiny, Mirissa. And yours alone.”

  “No,” Mirissa said. “I’m not strong enough to defeat a goddess. I couldn’t even beat Daedric by myself, and he’s just a demi-god.” All this time she’d thought she already fulfilled her destiny back on Ortega. Stopping Daedric from taking control of the oil supply had, at the time, felt like saving the world. But this … this was more than she could comprehend. She reached out to grab Greco’s hand for reassurance, yet she found nothing but air. What the—?

  “I’ve sent Greco and your mother back to your dimension, Mirissa. There are some things we must speak about alone.” Artemis’s tone spoke volumes.

  “I take it this isn’t going to be good news, then.” Mirissa had mistakenly thought things couldn’t get any worse.

  “I’m afraid not. Eris must be defeated, but to do so will require everything you have. Everything.”

  “Please, Artemis. Say what you mean.” Mirissa was in no mood to decipher cryptic messages.

  “There is no guarantee you will be able to close the box. The key is meant to channel all of your power, your essence, through it. When Daedric opened the box early, he took away precious time from you. Your powers aren’t fully developed yet. If you are strong enough, the box will close but, even if you are successful, you will not survive.”

  Silence filled the air, feeling like an anvil on Mirissa’s chest. “So, I die whether I succeed or fail? What’s the point, then?”

  “The point, my dear, is that if you fail, everyone else dies with you.”

  The reality of her situation, although spelled out pretty clearly by Artemis, felt foreign to her. In the movies, the heroine would dramatically drop to her knees, wailing at the injustice of it all. For Mirissa, though, a strange calm enveloped her. Denial is a beautiful thing.

  Mirissa stared off into space, digesting all she’d just learned. “My parents are gonna freak.”

  Chapter 11

  When Mirissa opened her eyes, she saw more than just t
he stained ceiling of their hotel room. Every member of her team hovered over her, staring as though she were the main attraction at a carnival.

  “Run along, folks. Nothing to see here.” Mirissa pushed herself off the bed and away from the unwanted scrutiny.

  “What happened back there?” Greco asked. “Why did we get sent back without you?”

  Mirissa took a deep breath, placing a neutral expression on her face before answering him. “It was nothing. Artemis just wanted to wish me luck.” Before anyone else decided to interrogate her, Mirissa changed the subject. “Have we gotten anything from the tracking device Greco planted on Daedric?”

  “Kind of,” Beck answered. She grabbed the laptop and set it on the small table. “Julian beefed up the technology with some preternatural help so we can follow Daedric even when he teleports. The problem is that we can only track him while he’s in this dimension.”

  Mirissa bent down to look at the satellite image on the small computer screen. “Is that him?” A faint red line crossed the map from the ancient marketplace they’d just left to a spot that looked uninhabited about fifty miles southwest.

  “Yep, but we no longer have a signal. As far as I can tell, Daedric left this dimension where that red line stops. Funnily enough, it—”

  Myrine’s ringing phone halted the conversation. When she answered it, a look of frustration spread across her face at whatever the caller had said. “How exactly are we supposed to operate under those conditions, sir?” she said. There was a short pause before she continued. “Understood. I’ll keep you posted.”

  When Myrine disconnected the call, she looked to the team. “That was Finley.” The director of the CIA rarely called operatives during a mission. When he started the Omega Group over a decade ago, he put Myrine in charge and let her run the secret agency however she saw fit. “We’re about to have company. The White House has been breathing down his neck, and now they’ve decided to send a liaison to tag along with us.”

  The entire group erupted with objections until Myrine raised her hands to quiet them. “I know it isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s what we’ve got. Finley says they’re concerned this might somehow be a terrorist attack. He’s run as much interference as he can, but they made their decision.”

  “A terrorist attack? Really? Do they think some jihadists suddenly gained the power to control the weather?” Although it sounded absurd, Mirissa had to admit they weren’t that far off the mark.

  Her father, always the voice of reason, spoke up. “This is the government we’re talking about here. They’re going to waste massive amounts of time, money, and manpower just so they can say they did something. I’m actually surprised they’ve left us alone for as long as they have.”

  “Whether we agree with it or not, it’s happening. We’ll just have to find a way to work around the guy.” Myrine glanced over to Flip, who still slept in his chair. “And speaking of tag-alongs, what are we going to do with him?”

  As if on cue, Flip opened his eyes. “Sorry. I must have dozed off.”

  Orano, with his arms crossed over his massive chest in what was quickly becoming his “annoyed stance,” gave Flip a droll look before addressing Myrine. “Are we going to be protecting him out of the goodness of our hearts, or can he actually be useful in some way?”

  Myrine looked at her watch, then at Flip. “Mr. Petrakis, you said you were able to decipher the ancient writing your colleague found at Pella. If I show you another sample, can you translate it for us?”

  “Of course,” Flip said as he rose from the chair, stretching his limbs. “It’s not rocket surgery.”

  Mirissa giggled as Flip once again mixed up a common saying. “Science, Flip. It’s not rocket science.”

  The odd little man looked confused for a moment before shaking it off and continuing. “Where is your sample?”

  Myrine pulled up the images of the key on the laptop. Julian had taken several photos before the writing disappeared. She turned the screen toward Flip, who absentmindedly rubbed the palm of his hand as he read. After a few moments, he looked at Mirissa, his expression pained.

  If the look on his face was anything to go by, the symbols on the key weren’t good news. The fact that he was staring at her gave Mirissa a pretty good idea of what they said. She gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head, hoping he’d understand her meaning.

  ********

  Flip’s gut clenched as he read the words that were meant for the key-holder. Your essence is mankind’s only hope. Modern-day language gave many meanings to the word essence: a person’s nature, character, even personality. In ancient times, it had only one definition: Life force.

  Mirissa would have to sacrifice her life to lock Eris back in the box. Flip opened his mouth to read the translation to the group, but stopped himself when he saw the girl shake her head. She knows already. But why would she want to keep it a secret from her friends? From her family?

  The sickening feeling in his belly wasn’t the only foreign sensation Flip was experiencing. In all of his exceptionally long existence, he’d never once witnessed any god sacrifice even the smallest thing for the good of all the others. They simply took whatever they wanted, with no thought of anyone but themselves. Although he himself had sacrificed much over the years—his dignity usually—it had always been forced upon him by a higher god.

  There was so much he didn’t understand about humans. Their emotions and connections to each other were incredibly strange. This group had known Phillip Petrakis for less than a day, and to them he was just some archeologist who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet, already they’d risked their own safety to ensure his. Even the behemoth begrudgingly protected him. Flip sat down on the edge of the room’s only bed as the knot in his stomach threatened to expand up through his throat. Am I sick? Do I have food poisoning?

  “Are you OK, Flip?” Mirissa placed her hand on his shoulder as she sat beside him. “You don’t look so hot.”

  “Fine. I’m fine. It must be something I ate,” Flip said, hoping it was true.

  “Are you going to tell us what the key said?” Orano asked gruffly.

  “Oh, yes. Of course. It says, ‘She who wields this key, wields the power,’” He glanced at Mirissa, whose lips curved into a small smile.

  “Well, if that’s not the most unhelpful magical message ever written.” Orano stomped off to stare out the window at the sleeping town.

  “Maybe this would be a good time for us all to turn in. I know I could really use a few hours of sleep,” Steve said.

  “I’ll take Flip downstairs to the front desk and get him a room,” Mirissa said. “Unless you’re willing to share yours, Orano?”

  “Funny.” The behemoth nodded to his teammates when he reached the door, then disappeared down the hallway, presumably toward his room.

  “All right, everyone. We’ll resume first thing in the morning,” Myrine said as they cleared out.

  The lobby sat all but deserted at that time of the night, and Mirissa secured him the room right next to hers within a few minutes. She was unusually quiet as they made their way upstairs.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Flip asked.

  “About what?” she replied.

  “About what the key really said and how you knew about it.”

  Mirissa paused as she reached the door to his room. “Look, I really appreciate you not telling them the truth. They wouldn’t understand, or accept, it.”

  “And you do?” Flip raised his eyebrows.

  “Hardly. It hasn’t really sunk in yet. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

  Flip fiddled with the room key until his door finally unlocked. “I’m not sure where any bridges come into this but, if you don’t mind me saying, I think you are a remarkable human.”

  Mirissa’s giggle caused his cheeks to flush. “You are an odd man, Mr. Petrakis, but thank you for saying that. It means a lot.”

  When she bent down to ki
ss his cheek, Flip’s heart almost stopped. Before he could find words, the annoyingly attractive one sauntered down the hallway toward them, interrupting the moment.

  “Should I be worried, here?” Greco joked as he put his arm possessively around her shoulders.

  Flip couldn’t stop the sneer that formed on his face. He stepped into his room and turned to the girl. “Goodnight, Mirissa. I’ll see you in the morning.” He didn’t wait for her response before shutting the door.

  The solitude of his empty hotel room gave Flip the chance to reflect on the night’s events. Once again, Daedric’s plan had failed. Not only had he not retrieved the key, but he’d also pretty much gotten his butt kicked. It was a memory Flip would treasure for the rest of eternity. Ares would undoubtedly be furious, most likely finding some way to blame Flip for the failure, but he didn’t care.

  Things were going exactly as he’d planned. The girl trusted him. The behemoth didn’t, but that could be handled. Everyone else seemed to like, or at least tolerate, his presence. Perfect.

  Now if he could just get these pesky human emotions under control. At first he’d thought he’d gotten sick, what with the sore stomach and other weird feelings he’d been experiencing on and off since meeting these people. But now he realized it was something much worse. He liked Mirissa. She’d been kind to him, concerned about him, when no one else in his life ever had. And now she was going to die.

  The familiar knot in his gut returned. This time, he ignored it. He had a job to do, and no puny humans—no matter how nice—were going to get in his way.

  Nope. That girl was the solution to all of his problems. When she died, he’d finally be able to force Ares to make him a higher god.

  A tingle in his cheeks had Flip running to the bathroom, where he promptly threw up the contents of his stomach.

  ********

  Mirissa stood in the dimly lit hotel hallway, relishing the feel of Greco’s arms wrapped around her. With her cheek resting against his muscular chest, she felt safe. Nothing bad could happen to her as long as those arms surrounded her, holding her tight.