Chapter Twenty-nine
“You want this room to be your grave?” Melia asked.
“Why should I trust you?” They stood in Evangeline’s darkened room. It was almost one o’clock in the morning and the sounds of the house had long since faded as her jailors retired for the night. Evangeline had been asleep, too, in the white flannel PJs her captors had left in a dresser drawer. Melia’s hand over her mouth had woken her.
Do I want this room to be my grave? What’s she talking about? Who is Melia, really? She’s lied to me our whole lives. “Were you ever really my friend?”
“Oh, E.” Melia gave Evangeline a look of pure exasperation. “This is not the time.”
Crossing her arms, Evangeline sat back down on the edge of her bed. “You’re popular. You could’ve hung out with the jocks or the cheerleaders, but you stayed with me. Did they make you do it?”
“No,” Melia said, “and yes. E, I’m just a kid, too. There were times when I got sick of looking out for you, but I also loved you like a sister. No matter what you think, I still do. And in case you haven’t looked in the mirror lately, you’re not a geek anymore. You’re stunning—kind of a cross between Uma Thurman and Angelina Jolie but with way better hair.”
“Really?” Evangeline ran a hand through her hair. “How’d that part happen, M?”
“The beautiful part? I don’t know. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting it, either.”
“Do you mind?”
Melia’s eyes locked with Evangeline’s. “Yes.”
“That might be the first true thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“If that’s what you think,” Melia whispered, turning toward the door, “then I’m out of here.”
“No, wait! Will you…will you take me to the hospital to see my mom?”
“If you don’t believe in anything I’m saying and think everything I’m doing for you is BS, why should I bother continuing to help you? Why should I bother taking you to see your mom?”
I have to do something—trust someone—take control of my own life. “Because a few days ago we were best friends,” Evangeline said, feeling a sense of emptiness and loss. “I have to trust someone…and the only someone I have left is you. So, let’s go—please!”
Melia grabbed Evangeline’s arm and half led, half pushed her toward the door. “Stephanie had the first shift guarding your room. She’s a coffee fiend, so I brought her a latte and drugged it with my step-monster’s Valium. She won’t stop us!” Melia chuckled.
“Wait—I’ve got to get dressed.”
“Stephanie passed out ten minutes ago, but I don’t know how long she’ll sleep. You’re fine—we’ll get you some clothes and shoes later, okay?”
They snuck by Stephanie asleep in a chair, wearing a black track suit and Nikes, her chin was bobbing on her chest and her hand resting on an unsheathed knife in her lap. They crept down the hall and Melia paused at the last door on the right.
“I thought we were getting out of here,” Evangeline whispered.
“Quiet,” Melia mouthed. They slipped into a sewing room overflowing with bolts of fabric. Melia tiptoed to the far wall and pulled up the window shade. In the weak light of a crescent moon partially obscured by rain clouds, Evangeline could make out a large oak tree. Unlocking the window, Melia inched it open, wincing as it caught and scraped. She and Evangeline forced the window all the way open. Balanced in the crook of the oak, sat Tristin, wearing a black jacket and dark jeans. He held up a hand in greeting.
“What’s he doing here?” Evangeline hissed.
“Helping me break you out of this place.”
Reaching behind a bolt of checkered fabric, Melia withdrew a small golden box which seemed to be giving off an inviting pale-pink glow. Evangeline couldn’t help staring at it and she reached for the box. Melia shook her head and placed the box in her backpack. Evangeline felt both disappointed and strangely relieved to see it disappear.
“Go ahead,” Melia urged. “You first.”
Evangeline climbed onto the windowsill. The tree was a good six feet away. “I can’t,” she said, looking down at the two-story drop.
“It’s a leap of faith or you’ll be back in that room, locked away for I don’t know how long.”
“Come on!” Tristin urged. Evangeline pushed off into his waiting arms.
Chapter Thirty
The trail that led through the forest was narrow, the pine and oak trees dense, and sharp rocks and brambles cut Evangeline’s bare feet. But she pressed on, determined to put as much distance as possible between herself and the cult that’d kidnapped her. Run. Get away. Get to the hospital. Get to mom before it’s too late!
None of them spoke and the only sound was the whisper of leaves, an owl’s insistent hoot, and their labored breath.
“I’ve got…to stop…for a minute. Please.” Evangeline was panting after almost an hour of hard running, hands on her thighs, trying to regain her breath. A cramp burned across her side and her feet throbbed.
“We need to keep moving,” Melia said, looking nervously behind them.
Tristin put his hand on Evangeline’s back. “Just give her a second.”
Melia violently shook her head. “Tristin, you don’t understand! The people who’re coming after us, they won’t think twice about killing you. And I’m not sure what they’ll do to me.”
“You okay?” Tristin asked, crouching beside Evangeline.
“No—yeah, but my feet are trashed and I just need a few minutes…to catch my breath.”
“We don’t have a few minutes,” Melia said. “Get moving—now!”
Feeling terrified and angry at the same time, Evangeline stared at her friend. “Okay, then, give me your sneakers.”
“You’re such a spoiled brat,” Melia lashed out. “Everything isn’t always about you, you know!”
“That’s not what your freakish cult believes.” Evangeline felt sick hearing the fury in her own tone. We’ve never fought like this before. But then, I’m not the same girl I was a few days ago and Melia isn’t the best friend I thought she was, either.
“I am so sick of taking care of you!” Melia pushed Evangeline in the chest so she stumbled backward.
“And this is taking care of me?” Evangeline asked, looking down at her bloody feet. She knew she shouldn’t be pissing Melia off so much, but she couldn’t help it.
Color rose in Melia’s cheeks and her eyes narrowed. “You want to do this? Okay, let’s do this. Ask me why my mother died. Ask me!”
“She died in a car accident. You told me about it when we were little kids.”
“I was in that car, too!”
“What?” Evangeline’s stomach twisted in knots. “You never—”
“No, I never told you because I wasn’t allowed to tell you. My mom purposely plowed into a car that was being driven by a man trying to kill your mother to get control of the key! I was in the car and my door was the impact point. My own mother didn’t care that I might’ve died. We spun out from the crash and the other side of the car hit a telephone pole. The impact broke my mom’s neck.”
“Oh my god, Melia, I’m really sorry—I—”
“Shut up, E, I’m not done! Do you know how my grandmother died?”
Evangeline shook her head. Please stop.
“She was shot to death protecting Cleo, your grandmother. Ever since I can remember I’ve been told that it’s my destiny to do the same thing—my destiny to risk my life and be ready and willing to die for you. And I was, but that shouldn’t mean I don’t get to live a great life, too.”
“I never asked you to die for me,” Evangeline said quietly. She felt tears welling up and struggled not to cry. “I never asked for any of this.”
“Evangeline, just stop feeling sorry for yourself and do something for someone else. Help Tristin.”
“What are you talking about?” Evangeline was caught completely by surprise. Help Tristin? What could Melia’s boyfriend possibly need from me? “Help Tris
tin?”
“There’s something wrong with him,” Melia said. “E, it was really hard for Tristin to tell me—he only did because he loves me. He wanted me to know before it was too late—so we could say goodbye. Tristin has a fatal disease. He didn’t know about you—your abilities as Pandora’s descendant—but I told him because I love him. You can understand that, can’t you? E, he needs you to heal him. You can at least do that.”
Wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, Evangeline stared at her friend. “Heal him? I’m not a doctor, Melia. Is that why you helped me get away—you think I have some magical powers that I can use to fix your boyfriend?”
“You do,” Tristin said, stepping toward Evangeline. “You’re a descendant whether you believe it or not. Demeter gave the original Pandora the gift of making anything grow and heal. I never thought those powers could pass to Pandora’s descendants, but they have. You have the power to heal me, Evangeline, I know you do!”
“E, if our friendship ever meant anything you’ll do this.” Melia was starting to sound desperate.
“Do this?” Evangeline’s voice was calm. She wanted to scream, but was too afraid that members of Pandora were already hunting for them. She’d be damned if she’d give away her whereabouts now. She also knew that if she began to scream she might never stop.
“E, Tristin is the only person in my whole freaking life who has ever put me first. And he’s been watching out for you, too. He didn’t just help me get you out of that house; he has a plan to keep Pandora from coming after us.”
Melia shrugged off her backpack, unzipped it, and pulled out the golden box. “E, this is Pandora’s Box. As long as we possess both the box and key, the Sect will have to leave us alone.”
Tristin nervously shifted from foot to foot as he watched Evangeline’s reaction.
“Why? Because you plan to threaten them with opening that thing?” Evangeline was feeling like Alice in Wonderland hurtling down the rabbit hole. She struggled to ignore the fact that she once again felt strangely drawn to the box. Why can’t I seem to look away it? Why do I want to touch it so badly? I have to get out of here. I have to get away from them. They’re both insane.
With sheer force of will, Evangeline tore her eyes from the golden box and inched away from Melia and Tristin so she could have enough space to turn and run without being caught. Behind her, a rushing creek flowed through the woods, overflowing its banks in places due to the abundant rains. Evangeline retreated until her heels sank into the creek’s muddy edge. She’d have to wade through in order to get away. The water rushed and gurgled against rocks—it sounded fast and deep. How many people will I be running from after I bolt?
“Don’t!” Tristin had a silver revolver aimed at Evangeline.
A scream tore from Evangeline’s lips.
“Stop moving or I’ll shoot you.”
“Tristin! What are you doing? Melia launched herself between Evangeline and Tristin. “Tristin, don’t! You don’t need—”
The gun went off—the sound more of a sharp hiss than an explosion.
Melia stared down at the hole in the center of her sweater and then her knees buckled and she fell onto the forest’s floor.
“You,” Tristin said calmly. “My name is Malledy, not Tristin, and I don’t need you anymore.”
Chapter Thirty-one
Melia was lying on her back, tears streaming from the corners of her eyes, down her temples, and into her hair. Evangeline crouched next to her friend, trembling hands hovering over her body. “Melia!—Oh god—oh god—oh god—tell me what to do!!”
With a laugh, Malledy picked up Pandora’s Box from where it gleamed in the dirt beside Melia’s crumpled body. It was only a small box—no more than six inches square—but the final Fury housed inside gave it a deadly weight that he could feel trying to creep into his bones. The swirls carved into the rose-colored gold were mesmerizing and for a moment, Malledy let his eyes trace the ancient carvings before forcing them away.
I am so close. I have the talismans; I have the descendant; I will be healed! And then… Malledy’s mind sprinted, whirled, twisted upside down and inside out, and arrived at a monumental realization. “And then,” he murmured, his tone overflowing with awe and reverence, “I will become a modern day God.” How could I have missed it? There’s no difference between me and the ancient Gods of Greece—not anymore. And the world needs me—mankind needs me to save it from itself!
Malledy yanked the silver bracelet off Melia’s wrist, leaving only tarnish marks where the metal had touched her skin. He flicked the gun’s safety back on. Juliette had given him the gun for his own protection. He’d promised only to use it if he was in mortal danger and never, ever, to threaten the life of the descendant. Promises were made to be broken.
Malledy grabbed Evangeline’s upper arm and yanked her to her feet. She was blubbering and shrilly screamed at his touch, but he clamped a hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her waist.
“Don’t hurt her, Tristin,” Melia called weakly.
“Try to catch up, Melia. The name’s Malledy.” He moved his mouth to Evangeline’s ear. “I never loved her. It’s you I wanted—it was always you.”
Evangeline struggled to free herself, but Malledy’s grip was iron. In a lightning swift motion, Malledy slid the silver bracelet onto her wrist. He couldn’t be sure how long it would take the ruby to work. It had only taken seconds for the powerful gem from the scepter of Aphrodite to bewitch Melia to profess her undying love for him. It had made Melia unbelievably willing, as well as entirely blind, to his true plans.
“Evangeline, I know you’re freaked out, but Melia wasn’t really your friend. She told me everything about who you really are. She told me about the key and box. She sold you out to a guy she’d only known for a few months.”
Evangeline thrashed and twisted her head, managing to bite down on Malledy’s thumb.
“Merde!” He loosened his hold just enough for Evangeline to squirm free and scramble away.
“Melia! Help me!”
“Run—run, E!”
Malledy managed to catch the cuff of her pajama leg and jerk her back into his embrace. She bucked, her head catching his chin and snapping his teeth together. He could taste the blood in his mouth.
“Stop fighting me, you witch!”
“Go to hell!” Evangeline growled, ripping the bracelet from her wrist. She stamped down on Malledy’s foot, once more loosening his grip enough for her to break free. She stumbled and started to run.
Diving forward, Malledy tackled Evangeline, driving her face into the dirt and the breath from her lungs. She kept struggling, even as she gasped for air.
“Stop it!” Malledy demanded. The bracelet didn’t work on her! Amazing! “Listen to me! I’m not going to kill you. Melia wasn’t lying—I need your help.”
“Don’t—don’t believe—anything he—says!” Melia weakly cried.
Evangeline clawed at Malledy’s face, trying to find his eyes. He swore as her nails tore into his skin.
Made incredibly powerful by his pain, adrenaline, and the desperate need for self-preservation, Malledy twisted Evangeline’s body, straddled her torso, and backhanded her. For just a second, her eyes went blank and she licked at the blood on her split lip. Malledy watched for a moment and then, driven by a sudden, overwhelming rage, dragged Evangeline toward the creek.
His disease-riddled mind scrambled for a plan even as his fury burned bright. He’d hold her under the water until she passed out. Does this make sense? Yes! After she was unconscious, he’d carry her to his car. Once he had her tied up somewhere safe and quiet, he’d get her to heal him—whether she wanted to or not. And if that didn’t work, he’d have her open the box and do it himself. Perfect sense.
He dragged Evangeline through the mud to the edge of the rushing water. He pinned her down with his knees and took hold of her thick hair readying to force her head below the torrent. Evangeline fought as hard as she could, her
fingers continuing to claw at Malledy’s face. He kept out of reach and began to force her head into the water.
Suddenly the dark-blue of her eyes altered, taking on the look of an electric night sky just before lightning flashed. And Evangeline began to hum. The tune was strangely beautiful. And then it changed, as if someone flipped a switch and the song was running backwards. The sweet notes now sounded all wrong—flat, sharp, grating. Malledy shook his head and plunged Evangeline’s face into the icy creek.
In the weak moonlight Malledy could see Evangeline’s panicked face, her eyes were impossibly wide, darting left and right—searching desperately for an escape. A vein in the center of her forehead bulged and her lips were peeled back in a terrified grimace. Just pass out, damn it, so we can get out of here!
In a burst of strength, Evangeline grabbed fistfuls of Malledy’s jacket, and attempted to pull herself up. Grunting, he pushed her deeper under the surface until her head hit the rocky bottom of the creek. Evangeline’s visage took on a silvery-glow. The pupils of her eyes abruptly dilated and morphed into luminous black pearls. She began to hum again. How does she have the breath left? She is a sorceress! It was the same discordant tune she’d hummed moments before. Malledy could hear the notes, even though Evangeline’s head was submerged. How is this possible?
“Stop it! Stop it!” Malledy hissed, but the melody grew louder and he imagined he could feel it slithering along his exposed skin like a thousand tiny, deadly snakes. “STOP IT!”
Slowly, Evangeline’s struggles eased and then ceased entirely. Her song drifted away, replaced by the rustling of the leaves in the trees. Malledy watched Evangeline’s hands slide down to rest lifelessly on her belly. Her face, framed by floating tendrils of hair, was a watery mask and her eyes were glazed over—white disks without pupils. Finally.
He prepared to pull Evangeline from the water and resuscitate her before carrying her away. And then, she blinked. Impossible. The humming began again. Impossible! Her ghoulish white eyes stared right into Malledy’s and a half-smile formed on her bloodless blue lips. Her hands reached up and pressed against his body.
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