PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Alexandria, you’re safe now.”

  A dog howls in the distance, its cry full of rage.

  Sabien looks up, startled, his eyes sweeping the area carefully.

  “We need to get you inside, honey,” Sabien tells me softly. “It’s not safe out here.”

  He takes hold of my arm and pulls me towards the path leading home. I can’t help but to stare at the cats now turned humans until they are out of sight.

  Please, please be dreaming.

  Sabien leaves me at the house with orders to stay inside and lock the doors until he gets back.

  I try to lock the door behind him, but can’t. My body shakes so hard I can hear my teeth rattle. Someone starts to pound forcefully on the door. I jump away from it, unable to hold in the scream that tears out of my throat.

  “Alex, open up!”

  Morgan.

  I yank the door open and throw myself at him, unaware I’ve been crying until the wetness soaks his shirt. The fear begins to subside just feeling his arms around me. His woodsy smell wraps around me, calming the panic.

  “Shh,” he soothes, stroking my hair. “It’s okay.”

  “No,” I whisper hoarsely. “It’s not okay, Morgan. You don’t know . . . ”

  “It’s fine Bess. You’re fine. No one is going to hurt you, I promise. They won’t get near you again.”

  I go still in his arms. He can’t know what I’d seen.

  “Yes,” he tells me. “I do know.”

  “How?”

  “Look at me, Bess.”

  His voice comes out hesitant, afraid.

  “Why?” I don’t want to look.

  “Alex, please.”

  I raise my head and meet a pair of glowing amber eyes.

  No.

  I jerk away from him so hard I stumble backwards and hit the stairs, falling. It’s too much for me and I stay down.

  “I’m sorry, Bess,” he says miserably and curls up in front of the door.

  “Are you one of them?”

  “No,” he denies vehemently. “I go a bit furry, but I’m not a cat.”

  “A wolf,” I whisper. “You’re a wolf.”

  “How can you know that?” he asks, eyes wide with shock.

  “I dream about being a wolf,” I tell him, my voice shaking. “I have for as long as I can remember.”

  He stares at me, his eyes full of emotions I can’t understand. Everything makes so much sense now. Why he smells of the trees and the soft dirt that cover the forest floor. He’s a wolf. He smells of the woods because he’s a part of the woods.

  Morgan stands and starts forward.

  I shrink away from him.

  “I won’t hurt you, Bessie Mae,” he promises. “Your uncle is coming and I need to leave.”

  “NO!”

  Panic hits me full force. I’m scared, terrified really, even of Morgan, but the thought of him leaving me sends me tumbling over the edge. I need him. I don’t know why, but be holds back the fear, keeps it from eating me alive.

  “Your uncle . . . ”

  “Please don’t leave me.” Tears well up, threatening to overflow again.

  “Hush, Bess, I won’t leave. I promise.”

  He approaches me warily, his steps careful and measured. He squats in front of me and reaches out to grip my hands. He speaks softly, slowly.

  “I know you’re afraid of me right now. You don’t understand why you need me so close, why I help to lessen the fear. I’ll explain everything to you. I’m going to wait on you upstairs in your room. Your uncle’s coming. You need to listen to him. Try to focus. I think this is what he was keeping you safe from.”

  A shudder goes through him and he bows his head. “If he hadn’t been here today . . . I hate to think what might have happened.”

  “Oh my God, Devon!” I jump up, knocking Morgan over. Oh God, how could I have forgotten Devon?

  “Devon?”

  “He was there, he pushed me out of the way. Oh, God, Morgan, it hit him and they went flying backwards into the trees and I couldn’t see them. I wanted to go after them but then . . . then . . . then the others came.” Tears stream down my face at the remembered horror.

  “It’s okay Bess,” he tries to soothe me.

  “No, it’s not okay. You have to find him!” I shout, my voice frantic.

  He nods. “I’ll find him, but you can’t tell your uncle. If he needs help, I’ll make sure he gets it.”

  I frown. Devon would need an ambulance. I’d seen the claws tear into him.

  “Trust me, Bessie Mae.”

  “But . . . ”

  He stares at me. “Please, Alex.”

  I nod at last, not understanding, but willing to trust him. I always trust Morgan.

  “I’m going out the back. Are you okay?

  Panic grips me. He’s leaving me.

  “I have to leave if I am going to find Devon.”

  I nod, unable to speak past the tears choking me.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He gives my hand a quick squeeze. “Your uncle’s here now. I have to go.”

  Morgan’s gone before the doorknob starts to turn.

  Chapter 20

  Sabien frowns and mutters something about my not locking the door and didn’t I know what kind of danger I was in when he comes in.

  Then he sees me.

  I’m still sitting on the stairs with my arms locked around my knees. He looks worried.

  I can see why. My reflection in the hall mirror tells me why his eyes widen and his face pales. My own eyes glitter with shock and fear in a face the color of chalk. I look terrible, I look a bit insane truth be told. Then again maybe I really am crazy and all this is just another one of my night terrors.

  “Honey, you’re safe now.”

  Safe? I want to scream and rant and beat at him. Safe? My world is . . . just . . . gone and he has the nerve to stand there and tell me I’m safe?

  Instead of doing any of the things I want to do, I tighten my hold around my knees, hoping it will help with the tremors that wrack my body. No such luck.

  “Alexandria?”

  I finally look up at him. He cringes back at the fear, the pain, and the anguish that lashes out at him from my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispers.

  Sorry? That’s all he has to say to me? He’s sorry?

  “What . . . what were they?” I croak out, trying to keep calm, but close to cracking. I honestly don’t know how much more I can take right now.

  “Trackers.”

  “They . . . changed.”

  “They’re shifters, able to go from one form to another.”

  I stare, unable to ask what I wanted to know.

  He sees the question in my eyes. “They were looking for you and Jason.”

  “What . . . why?”

  “It’s a long story, honey. Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll make you something hot to drink. It’ll help with the shivers.”

  I realize how cold I am. God’s truth, but I’m freezing. Shock, I guess. I get slowly to my feet and my uncle catches me before I fell on my face. He leads me to a chair at the kitchen table and then sets about making me a cup of hot chocolate. That done, he takes a seat across from me.

  “Explain.” My voice comes out almost calm which surprises me considering it feels like I’m going to fall apart at any second.

  “It’s not so easy to explain,” he sighs wearily.

  “Uncle Sabien?” Jason’s panicked voice reaches us, the front door slamming.

  “In the kitchen, Jason.”

  He rushes in and sees me. Relief floods his face. “Are you okay, Sis?” he asks, falling down in the chair beside me.

  I nod woodenly.

  “Uncle Sabien called,” his eyes flicker to him. “He said you‘d been in an accident?”

  I laugh harshly, the anger I’ve been trying to hold back shimmering to the surface violently. An accident? HA!

  “She’s still in shock,” Sabien tells him. �
�She saw something today that severely shook her.”

  HA!

  “What happened?”

  “Yes, Uncle,” I seethe. “Tell Jason what happened.”

  I can’t help the anger that bubbles up. Sabien knew these things were hunting us and he didn’t tell us. If he had, then Devon might not be hurt right now. God, is he even alive?

  “I hoped I would have more time,” he murmurs and stands up. He walks over to the window and looks out, his face tired and worn. “The trackers have taken that from us I’m afraid.”

  “Trackers?” Jason asks in confusion.

  “They found your sister today. She was nearly killed.”

  “Killed?” Jason whispers, turning to stare at me. Fear makes his eyes almost as dark as my own panicked ones.

  “If Uncle Sabien hadn’t been there, I’d be dead.”

  Some of the anger fizzles out of me. As mad as I am, he had saved my life at the risk of his own. I owe him something for that. The anger had stomped out the fear now blazing like wildfire through me for just a moment.

  Breathe, I tell myself and try to think happy thoughts. Bunnies. Nice, soft, happy little bunnies . . . bunnies morphing into mutant sized . . . .NO.

  I take a sip of my hot chocolate. I need to understand this. “Will you tell us what is going on? All of it?”

  He gives me a shrewd look that says my calm tone doesn’t fool him, but he nods. “The animals that attacked you are what we call trackers. They follow a scent until they find who or what they’re searching for. They never fail. No matter how far or how fast you run, they always find you.”

  “And then they kill you?” I guess.

  “Not necessarily,” he disagrees. “It would depend on their orders. In you and your brother’s situation, a kill on sight order has been issued.”

  “WHAT!?” Jason explodes.

  Sabien runs a hand through his hair. “I promised your mother I would take care of you and keep you safe if something ever happened to her. I’m doing a bang of job of it aren’t I?”

  The mention of our mother causes us both to tense up and our eyes to harden. Uncle Sabien frowns, noticing our reaction. He’s become aware of our feelings towards Alecia over the last few weeks. How could he not? He’d tried repeatedly to talk to us about her in the beginning, but we’d blown him off. Except for my questions about her death. He wouldn’t talk about that.

  I think he saw some of the rage we felt. Very few people ever see it. Usually we’re very good at hiding it. We have to be. Dad practically worshiped her. We love him and didn’t want to upset him, so we just pretended everything was fine.

  Sabien sighs and ignores our reactions.

  “Did your mother ever tell you anything about her family?” he asks Jason.

  Jason shrugs. “Not that I remember.”

  “She had good reason not to,” Sabien laughs bitterly.

  Jason and I frown. Now what does that mean?

  “Alecia and I were to be the last of the Deveraux bloodline,” he tells us. “We promised each other ages ago that we would never have children. We didn’t want to pass this curse on to anyone else.”

  “Curse?” The truth creeps up on me with the force of a Mack truck.

  No. It can’t be.

  “You’re one of them?” I whisper, barely able to make myself ask the question.

  Sabien’s eyes widen. “You’re more perceptive than I thought.”

  I am so totally freaking out. Calm . . . mutant bunnies . . .

  STOP thinking about it!

  “We carry the gene, yes, but I’ve never shifted.”

  “Our . . . mother?” I ask him.

  “She did, yes.”

  The mug I’m clutching in my hand shatters. The pieces fall to the floor, dark liquid running in rivulets across the white tile. Some of it sloshes down my pants. I ignore it.

  “Will Jason and I?”

  “Wait!” Jason stands up and glares at us in frustration. “What are you two talking about?”

  Sabien ignores his nephew and focuses his attention on me. “I don’t know, Alexandria. Jason is already showing signs, but until this moment, I hadn’t seen any in you.”

  “Me?”

  “That mug you just shattered was hard pewter. A normal person wouldn’t have been able to do it.”

  Majorly Beyond Freaked.

  Crap!

  “Somebody is going to tell me what’s going on NOW!” Jason slams his fist down onto the solid oak table. It cracks.

  Jason looks down at it, a fascinated horror on his face.

  Too much, too much, my poor tired mind screams at me.

  “Jase,” I giggle, the horror of it all washing over me. “Dad just bought that table.”

  Shh, Bess. You’re fine.

  Morgan? When had he come back? I look up expecting to see him.

  No, I’m not back. He sounds tired. I’m helping Devon.

  But I can HEAR you, I think to myself

  I hear him laugh.

  YOU can hear me, Bess.

  No. No. No. No . . .

  Calm down, he soothes. You need to pay attention.

  “Alexandria?”

  “Yes, Uncle?”

  “Do you need to take a break for a bit? Lie down?”

  “No,” I shake my head, forcing back the insane giggles. “I need to understand.”

  “You’re pretty shaken up, honey . . . ”

  “No.” The word comes out more sharply than I intend, but hey, I am freaked out in the worst possible way. I’m hearing Morgan’s flippin voice in my head for cripes sake. What more can happen? “I’m fine.”

  “Al, you don’t look so good,” Jason eyes me worriedly. I must look pretty messed up for him to forget his anger so quickly. I’d seriously started to worry about him. He seems to stay angry all the time and could lose his temper at the drop of a hat these days. Coach even had to talk to him about his anger on the football field.

  The worry is plain on both of their faces as they watch me. I feel a hundred times worse than I look. My mind has seen and heard way too much and now I’m asking it to endure more. I bite back a hysterical bout of giggles. I need to focus.

  “Just get on with it.”

  Thankfully nobody decides to argue the point.

  “Our family is very old. We can trace our ancestors back to the early days before France was even a country. The Deveraux family was unique even then. We had certain . . . gifts that many coveted. Our ancestors used those gifts to gain power and influence. When the monarchy came to power, a Deveraux was always at the king or queen’s side, whispering in their ear.”

  “What sort of gifts?” Jason asks, sitting back down.

  “Magical gifts.”

  “Magic?” Derision colors his tone.

  “Let him finish, Jase.”

  “But, Al . . . ”

  “No, Jason,” I wrap my arms around myself, trying to still the shivers that go through me. I let out another high pitched giggle. “You didn’t see what I saw.”

  Jason’s face shows his concern. I can’t help it. I giggle again and his frown deepens. He nods slowly, unable to look away from me. What did I look like? Worse than when I’d seen my reflection earlier?

  “With each generation our gifts have become stronger, more varied. In 1642, Gerard Deveraux was riding with Baron Jacques Dutille on the king’s business. Their carriage was attacked by wolves, but these were not ordinary beasts. They were huge, larger than any animal they’d ever encountered before. In defending themselves, Gerard was bitten. He didn’t let the baron see the bite, however. He would have been killed on the spot.”

  “Why?” Jason asks curiously, keeping an eye turned on me.

  “Because they shifted,” I answer around another giggle.

  Extreme shock? Who me?

  “That’s true. The ones they managed to kill shifted back to their human form in death.”

  “Werewolves?” Jason asks scornfully.

  “Jason . . . ”
/>   “No, Alex, this is beyond ridiculous.”

  “Tell that to the ones who attacked me.”

  “What?” That got his attention.

  “I saw them, Jason.” I shudder at the memory. “I saw them change.”

  “You saw someone change?”

  “It was awful.”

  “I’m so sorry about that, ma petite chou,” Sabien mutters. “You and your brother should never have had to go through this.”

  I so totally agree with that.

  “Once Gerard changed, he knew what he had become,” Sabien continues. “When in human form, he still kept the instincts of the animal and vice versa. Gerard did not see it for the curse that it was. He saw it as a way to gain even more power. It gave him an edge, especially with the ruling powers. He could eliminate the competition without anyone ever suspecting him. Who would think that a human had planned an animal attack? The monarchy never knew he was actually the animal.”

  “The gene is passed to the children?” I ask shakily.

  “Yes, but when it passed from parent to child, it works differently. It takes time to mature. It wasn’t instantaneous as with Gerard.”

  “You and our . . . mother,” I spit the word out, “were the last of the Deveraux’s. It would have died with you.”

  Sabien sighs in frustration. “Through the generations, our family became more and more selective, only bearing one or two children. At least that is what Alecia and I thought. There have been a multitude of children born into our family over the last two centuries, but only those with either the lupine gene or ones showing signs of magical gifts were allowed to live. Our family became so obsessed in their pursuit of ultimate power they took to murdering their own children.”

  “That’s sick,” Jason’s horrified.

  “I completely agree,” Sabien grinds out. “But it did serve one purpose. They limited themselves. Fewer and fewer were kept alive until there was only a handful left of the once mighty Deveraux family. They caused their own demise.”

  Sabien starts to pace.

  “Your mother and I discovered the family’s little secret when we were about your ages. There had been three others born to our father before us. He kept a careful record of his success and failures as did the people before him. We found the family tree that he usually kept under lock and key. You can imagine our horror. We knew our father was a terrible man capable of great evil. He’d done things that were abominable in his pursuit of power, but we never imagined him capable of killing his own flesh and blood. It was too much for either of us. We swore that day to never have children.”