PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “You’re assuming you’re going to live that long.”

  “Aye.”

  Lorelye smiles wickedly. “Let’s see what you have, little brother.”

  “You first.”

  My eyes widen at the power levels rising in the room. I can feel it burst over my skin and I’m standing directly in its path. Oh, crap. Devon’s coming, I remind myself. Connor said Devon is coming. He’ll have Morgan with him. I feel myself panic again as I reach out to Morgan and feel only emptiness. They will be here soon.

  But would it be before these two crazies destroy each other or me?

  Chapter 38

  Where to go, where to go? There is nowhere I can go. The minute I step away from Nathaniel any one of the people standing in the room can grab me. They want my power and even as fuzzy as I feel, I know they’ll do whatever it takes to get it. No help there.

  Another energy ball flies at us, bouncing off Nathaniel’s shield—an invisible wall of sorts that surrounds us in a circle. When I say energy ball, I mean an actual ball of glowing blue fire. Just like the ones I’d seen demons hurling at the sisters on Charmed. And who says TV can’t teach you anything?

  Good Lord, how do I manage to get myself into these kinds of messes?

  I jump at the sound of Lorelye’s magic bouncing off Nathaniel’s shield. The crazy banshee is relentless. It seems to be all Nathaniel can do just to shield us from her attacks. As far as I can tell he hasn’t even got off one good shot of his own. I want to help him, but don’t know how. I’d refused to let Uncle Sabien teach me anything. Now I feel plain stupid. Death watches, waiting for his chance to take me, and there is nothing I can do to defend myself. Stupid, stupid me.

  I’ll sure as certain rectify that if I get out of here alive.

  The enraged cry of a wolf catches my attention. Relief sweeps through me. Nathaniel tenses in front of me, hearing it as well. Morgan. If Morgan is here, that means Devon is here.

  Thank you, God.

  The doors behind us burst open and a wolf the size of a small car bursts through snarling in fury. He leaps, taking down the first guard by the door. His teeth tear into him, ripping his throat out before he can even defend himself. The others come in more slowly, assessing the situation before attacking.

  Devon dives into the group of people hovering close to the west wall. Jason takes the second guard down. Connor hurls himself into the fray after Devon. Morgan snarls, throwing bodies as he plows his way to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off the wolf. I gulped air. Even though I know what he is, knowing and really seeing are two completely different things. It’s a little overwhelming. Then his eyes find and hold mine. They are panic stricken too. He can’t feel me either.

  I step away from Nathaniel, breaking the circle. I fall to my knees and wrap my arms around him, letting him drown out the sounds of the fight. In that instant my mind clears. The clean, fresh smell of maple and pine trees washes away the fog clouding my thoughts. My wolf stretches lazily under my skin, awake now that Morgan is with us. We close our eyes and let ourselves get lost in the feel of warm fur, of dirt beneath our paws, and of the smell of honeysuckle. We are pack. We are home.

  It has gone quiet, I realize after a moment. Opening my eyes, I see everyone watching us. Except Nathaniel. He watches his sister.

  “Alexandria?” Devon asks, pulling my attention to him.

  I’ve never heard him sound so cold, so empty. His is the voice of death. He and Jason have forced Lorelye’s cohorts into a corner. Jason’s eyes glow with his beast rolling behind them. Blood runs from a cut on his face. He looks dangerous. I don’t ever remember seeing him like this before—strong, powerful, an alpha in the making. My wolf growls with pride. Our brother, our pack.

  “Alexandria?” Devon asks again, his voice growling with irritation.

  “I’m fine, Devon.”

  I feel Morgan’s muscles bunch beneath my fingers, preparing to spring at Nathaniel.

  “Morgan, no!” I tighten my hold on him.

  His growl turns hair-raising.

  I grab his head and force him to look at me.

  You will not hurt him.

  Bessie Mae . . .

  No. He is protecting me from them.

  HE brought you here!

  I don’t understand it either, Morgan, but he is protecting me. You can’t hurt him. Do you understand?

  But I can hurt the others?

  Let’s try to get out of here without hurting anyone else, okay?

  He growls his frustration at me.

  I get up, really seeing the room for the first time. Lorelye stands a few feet from us, her face flushed in rage as she glares out of eyes the color of the sea after a storm. A table is placed about foot from her. On it rests a long dagger and a silver goblet.

  Taking a shaky breath, I remember my uncle and Lorelye’s words—the power is in the blood. To consume the power, you have to consume the blood. She’d planned to drain me dry.

  Uh, no. So not gonna happen.

  The buzzing gets louder and my skin crawls with the force of a thousand insects. My magic starts to react to my fear and anger. I need to calm down. If my magic forces its way out again as it had last time, I might really hurt someone. I haven’t learned any kind of control. Idiot, I berate myself. I will learn to control it. I just have to make it out of here first.

  Taking a deep breath, I step out from behind Nathaniel.

  He reaches out and grasps my hand, his eyes never leaving his sister.

  Instant blessed calm. I can still feel my power flowing through me, but it no longer feels like I’m a freak show in the making. I am calm and confident. I shouldn’t be, but I am.

  “Alex?”

  My brother’s voice is questioning. He doesn’t understand why I’m standing here letting the man who brought me into this nightmare hold my hand. What can I say? I don’t understand it myself. What I do know is that I trust him, at least enough not to kill me.

  “Decided to stop hiding, sweetling?” Lorelye asks.

  “I wasn’t hiding to begin with.”

  “Really? You seemed to be doing an excellent imitation of it.”

  “But I wasn’t thinking very clearly now was I? I don’t suppose you had something to do with that?”

  Lorelye smiles. “As I said before, it was very easy to do.”

  “It won’t be so easy next time.”

  “You’re not leaving this house alive, sweetling,” Lorelye barks. “Your power is mine!”

  There is no warning. She lashes out, the force of her anger making her magic that much stronger. Nathaniel mutters something I can’t make out and the spell that hurtles toward us bounces off an invisible wall. He is quick on his feet, I’ll give him that.

  Devon is simply faster. He lands behind Lorelye before the last word leaves her lips. He fists one hand in her hair, the other wraps around her neck. I swallow, watching Devon’s beast take over. Again, knowing and seeing, are two very different things. He is in complete control of the beast within him. His red ringed onyx eyes, full of death, glint black fire. His mask of civility slips away and the monster stares back at me now. He is truly frightening to behold and I am not the least bit afraid of him.

  Really, how stupid am I?

  Lorelye laughs and whispers a single word.

  Devon goes down.

  Chapter 39

  Smoke. I smell . . . smoke.

  And then I understand.

  Oh Jesus. Devon is being burned from the inside out.

  Morgan howls in rage. My wolf answers him. The snarl rips from my throat as blind rage blurs my vision. I jerk my hand away from Nathaniel, embracing the feel of the power rushing over me, through me. I feel my blood begin to boil as my power builds. The buzzing becomes a dim echo in my ears. All I can see is Devon in agony on the floor and the glee on Lorelye’s face at the pain she’s inflicted. She stands there, laughing over his body. Crazy psycho lady.

  I don’t know any spells or have any potions to aid me, b
ut I truly don’t need them in that moment. My rage is all I need. It compels me, takes over and allows me to do what needs to be done. Holding my hands out, palms facing outward, I focus on Lorelye and let my power rush towards the witch, imagining the fire that slowly burns away at my Devon.

  She tries to block my attack as Nathaniel had hers, but it is a useless attempt. There is no stopping the force of the rage coming for her. She screams as the wall of fire hits, wrapping itself around her in a cocoon. She can’t escape its touch.

  I watch her burn, the fire in my blood cooling as the fire I’d let loose slowly destroys Lorelye Winters. Only when there is nothing left of the woman but ashes, do I turn my attention to everything else. I see the ashes and a shudder goes through me. Oh God, what have I done? I killed her. I Killed Her.

  Bess, get a grip, Morgan says sharply. Devon needs us.

  “Devon,” I whisper, tears pouring down my cheeks. Morgan is right. Now is not the time to fall apart. I look at Devon, my Devon. He is lying there on the floor, so still. His body twitches every couple of seconds. Connor is already there, kneeling beside of him.

  “Stay back, Alex,” he warns. “He’s too dangerous right now.”

  I have every intention of ignoring that nonsense. “Connor . . . ”

  Nathaniel stops me.

  He lopes an arm around me and pulls me close. Blessed calm once more.

  “How do you do that?” I whisper.

  “Our magic compliments each other,” he explains, his voice close to my ear. “We soothe the forces burning in each other’s blood.”

  “I’m not sure . . . Connor what are you doing?”

  Connor rolls up his shirtsleeve.

  “He needs to feed so he can heal,” Connor shrugs.

  “Connor you just said . . . ”

  “I know what I said!” he snaps. “I’ll take care of this. You watch that lot.”

  I’d forgotten ‘that lot’. What is left of Lorelye’s cohorts huddle in one corner of the room with Jason standing guard. Their expressions have gone from hungry to fearful. They stay still, watching. The sudden demise of their fearless leader seems to have turned them into spineless cowards. They hide from us now. When I get my hands on them . . .

  Connor grunts.

  My eyes snap back to him. Connor’s wrist is pressed against Devon’s mouth, held there by an iron grip. Devon sits up after a minute or two, still locked onto Connor’s arm. We can hear the sounds of his suckling as he feeds. It isn’t anything like what you see in the movies. It is loud and it’s messy.

  “Devon, he’s looking a little gray,” I worry aloud. “You need to stop now.”

  “He needs more,” Connor grinds out through clenched teeth.

  “I’ll do it,” Jason volunteers, coming forward. His hands shake.

  “How do we know this is even going to work?” I ask. “He’s not a vampire, so how is feeding him blood helping?”

  “He told us that if he was hurt in the attack that it’s either shift into his monster or drink warm, fresh blood to start his healing process,” Jason says. “His monster is not something he wanted to unleash unless he had to, so this is our only other option.”

  “But how does blood help?”

  “The blood is the essence of life,” Nathaniel tells us. “That is why it is used in so many dark rituals. It has healing powers all its own.”

  “Devon let go of Connor,” Jason yells. “You’re taking too much. You can . . . feed . . . from me.”

  Red ringed black eyes swiveled to look up at him. Jason cringes, but keeps his arm extended. Devon’s nostrils flare, smelling his fear. Faster than you can blink, he latches onto Jason’s arm. My brother isn’t nearly as brave as Connor. He cries out and swears as Devon’s teeth tear into him. It has to hurt like the devil. Devon’s not a vampire, so he doesn’t have two long pointy teeth. He bites into Jason’s flesh and I can smell the blood as it flows.

  “Dear God, how much damage did she do?” I whisper, watching Devon feed.

  “He’s lucky to be alive,” Nathaniel tells me. “Lorelye was attacked about a hundred years or so ago by a vampire. She created a spell that would incinerate someone from the inside out. In truth, he should be dead. That spell is lethal. I’ve seen people explode seconds after she cast it.”

  Morgan leaves my side and makes his way over to Devon. He lets out a whine to offer up his blood. Devon reaches out and strokes his head gently. He lets go of Jason and takes several deep breaths, one hand still stroking Morgan’s soft fur.

  I close my eyes feeling Devon’s touch wash over and through me. It feels amazing. God’s truth, I can feel it in places I shouldn’t have. I can’t stop the shudder that goes through me.

  Nathaniel sighs. “This could be a complication.”

  I open my eyes and see Devon staring at me with those red-ringed onyxed ones. They glow with a dark light, the red rings all the more prominent because of it. His flushed face looks healthy now. His expression is one of a very sated fat cat after it’s gorged on warm milk.

  “Too much?” he quirks an eyebrow at me.

  “No,” I smile widely at him. “Thank you.”

  “I do not deserve your thanks, Cara,” he sighs. “I could not save you. I am sorry.”

  “There’s nothing to be sorry about. It wasn’t your fault she was a psycho crazy witch.” Catching sight of the people huddling in the corner again, I pull away from Nathaniel so I can turn and look up at him. “What do we do with that lot?”

  “They belong to the Winters’ clan. I’ll deal with them.”

  His voice comes out hard, clipped.

  “I don’t understand,” Jason frowns. “Why are you helping us? You brought her here. You knew what they were going to do.”

  Nathaniel nods. “That’s true.”

  “But?” Jason prompts.

  “But then I touched her,” Nathaniel speaks solemnly, looking directly at me.

  “So?”

  “The buzzing stopped,” he says simply. “For the first time since I was sixteen, I didn’t feel like my skin was crawling with insects. Our magic compliments each other, creating a calming peace within. Her magic soothes mine as mine does hers. It is a sacred bond among our kind. Some of us wait hundreds of years to find the person that compliments our magic while others never do. I am lucky enough to have found mine after only eighty years.”

  My eyes widen. I think I understand what he’s saying. Oh no. Not in a million gazillion years.

  “Most compliments mate for life, don’t they?” Jason asks, eyeing me speculatively. I know I look ready to bolt. Oh Lord, Jason is going to come up with so many ways to torture me from this little tidbit of information.

  “Yes.”

  “NO!” I shout in denial. “Look I’m grateful you saved my life and all, but that doesn’t mean we’re mates. I don’t even know you!”

  “But you trust me.”

  That catches me off guard. His eyes are full of tenderness as he waits for me to answer him. I do trust him. I can’t deny that.

  “Yeah, I trust you,” I nod slowly. “But I had to trust someone until Devon and Morgan found me.”

  His eyes narrow, staring past me to Devon.

  “A complication,” he says at last. He smiles then. “You are young yet, little one, and have much growing up to do. I can wait.”

  “How did you find us?” Jason asks him.

  Good question.

  “We heard of Alecia’s death and sent trackers to find Sabien. Where he went, we knew we would find you.”

  “But those trackers tried to kill me,” I frown.

  “Those were not ours, little one. Ours were looking for your uncle and reported back to us. I came for you and your brother yesterday.”

  “Then who did the others belong to?” Jason frets.

  I know just how he feels. Here I thought we’d answered the million dollar question and could relax, but no. We still have to worry about being attacked. Crap, crap, and crap.

 
“I will do my best to stop the brunt of the attacks against your family,” Nathaniel tells us. “I will let everyone in the magical community know that she is my compliment and therefore under the protection of the Winters’ family. An attack against you will mean a war with us.”

  “But it won’t stop everyone?” Jason sighs heavily.

  “No,” Nathaniel agrees. “Your sister is an Elementalist. She doesn’t have need for spells or potions to utilize her magic. Her power lies in the elements themselves and can be called upon at will. It’s the rarest and most ancient form of magic there is. There hasn’t been a true Elementalist born on this world in over two thousand years.”

  “This is bad isn’t it?” Jason’s voice drips with worry.

  “There is a kill on sight order right now for both of you. No one knew what type of magic you would possess. Now that we do, it could very well get bloody. Many will covet your sister’s gifts as my own sister did. There isn’t a price to high to pay to possess that kind of power. She has to die in order for them to possess it.”

  “That will never happen,” Devon speaks up from directly behind me. “We understand now how you lot fight. We will be better prepared to deal with you from now on.”

  It turns into a staring contest. Devon wins. My wolf snarls in approval. Not now, I scold her.

  Nathaniel sighs deeply. “When you are ready to learn to use your gifts, little one, call and I will teach you.”

  “My uncle can teach me what I need to know,” I reply stiffly.

  “No, he cannot,” Nathaniel counters. “His power is not steeped in elemental magic.”

  “But yours is?” I ask sourly.

  “Yes. I am more sensitive to the powers of the wind element. I must use potions and spells, but they always work better when utilized with the wind element.”

  Kudos to you, I think nastily.

  “You do not have to do anything you do not wish to, Alexandria,” Devon tells me softly, his voice a whisper against my ear, eliciting another shudder. He wraps his arms around me, causing my heart to beat rapidly. “I will keep you safe.”

  “I know,” I whisper, leaning into him.