PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  As the ball touched my palm, a shocking jolt shot up my arm. Electricity hummed through my hand and wrist, vibrating on a continuous, soft buzz. I almost found it pleasant, relaxing. Beeps and flashing red and green lights signified its successful link.

  “Okay, the machine is ready. Are you?” Captain Morrigan asked.

  I nodded.

  “Let’s start with the basics. State your name, rank, and company.”

  “Elsabetha LeAnne Ehlers, Sergeant of the Aurora Vanguard, Avalon Division.”

  Three beeps, each one sounding higher than the last, came from the detector. The lights pulsed green. Captain Morrigan pulled out a notebook and pen from the pocket of her straight-legged slacks then jotted down a note.

  “What happened to you on October nine, twenty-four fifty-two?”

  “I was in route to Tartarus to deliver classified information to Admiral Vassarious when the transporter went down.”

  Three beeps. More notes.

  “What happened to the transporter?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

  Two short buzzes. The pulsing green lights dropped to solid red. A stern look from the captain.

  “What I mean is, I don’t remember. I can’t figure it out. The one thing I know for certain is I was alone when it hit ground.”

  Three beeps, green pulsing lights, with more notes. The captain appeared satisfied by something in my response.

  “Then what happened?” I started to open my mouth when the captain added, “Keep in mind the detector is remote-recording your responses. The Council is listening.”

  I looked hard at her composure. Is she thinking I’m going to tell her something I wouldn’t tell the Council? Is it a warning for something? Why point that out now?

  “I woke up in a hospital room about five days later with no memory of the accident and unable to remember a large part of the last six years of my life. The following afternoon, I was released to go home.”

  Buzz, buzz.

  “What the hell is wrong with this thing? I told the truth!”

  “The location you claim to have awoken in was not a hospital. It was an infirmary . . . of sorts.”

  “What do you mean? How do you know more than I do? What’s going on, Captain?”

  Rapid, tapping beats came from the detector.

  Captain Morrigan’s eyes went to the contraption in my hand. “Calm yourself, Sergeant.”

  I sighed, leaning against the side wall of my bunk, and crossed my free arm over my torso. What I wouldn’t give to wake from this nightmare.

  “Why are you blocking me?” the captain asked with a short clip in her tone.

  I turned my attention to her. “I’m—I’m not blocking you.”

  Buzz, buzz.

  I looked at the detector with confusion pinching my brow.

  “You are in a very delicate situation. If I were you, I’d watch what I said.” She shifted her eyes to the detector and back to mine, lifting her brows in emphasis. “Why are you blocking me?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Buzz, buzz.

  I stared at the contraption, entertaining the thought of tossing the damned thing across the room, then turned my attention to the captain. “I mean, I’m not aware of blocking anything.”

  “You’re blocking my attempt to read your mind. Why?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t feel you trying. I never block until then.”

  The detector responded with beeps and green flashing lights. I sighed. While the captain wrote more notes, I stared at the black orb. So many questions filled my mind, whispering in continuous succession. The click of a pen and the captain’s shift in movement drew my attention back to her. She stood from the chair and walked to me.

  “I don’t get it,” I said, making her stop mid-step. Her questioning look urged me to continue. “What is going on? Why am I being interrogated so much? I have a feeling this won’t be the last time. I haven’t lied, despite what this thing”I lifted my hand with the detector—“thinks. I’ve remained compliant. I’m not a criminal. What. Is. Going. On. Captain? What charges have been brought against me to warrant this treatment?” My words must have been too much for the detector to bear, because it was silent. The pulsing green lights continued.

  She broke her gaze from me then heaved a sigh. It took her several moments of thinking to herself before she said, “I’m not at liberty to say.” She turned and sat back in her chair then crossed her legs and leaned forward over her knee. After a short pause, she inhaled a long breath, sighing out her next words. “You remember who I am?”

  “Yes.”

  Beep . . . beep . . . beep.

  “Who am I?”

  “You are Captain Natasha Morrigan, Nepherium, and head of the Atlantis Division of the Aurora Vanguard.”

  A single beep was followed by a buzz.

  “What did I lie about this time?”

  She closed her eyes as a weary smile stretched her ruby lips. “It’s not a lie detector, Sergeant. It’s a truth detector.”

  “Oh, and the difference being?”

  “It buzzes when it doesn’t detect the truth. Not that you didn’t speak truth but what you said wasn’t true.”

  “Fine. Whatever.” I rubbed my temple to ward off the on-coming headache. “Tell me what wasn’t truthful then.”

  “I’m not the head of the Atlantis Division. I never was, despite the common assumption.” Her words came out soft, calm . . . almost in reflection. Before I could ask further, she said, “You remembered that I am Nepherium, but do you remember what you are?”

  “Is that supposed to be a trick question?”

  She stared at me with a blank expression. “Answer the question, Sergeant Ehlers.”

  “I’m registered as human.”

  Buzz, buzz.

  “Does this damn thing let you get through a thought before it flags it as not truth? I said I was registered as human, not that I was.” Calmer, I added, “Not entirely.”

  Beep . . . beep . . . beep.

  “What race are you then?” the captain asked, sounding curious. Did she really not know?

  Did I?

  I searched through what memories I regained.

  When the Nepherium came out as humanity’s protectors and guides, relationships happened. I came from a line of forbidden love, as it was known.

  “I’m what is known as a hybrid. I’m neither human nor Nepherium, but both.”

  I held my breath, waiting for the detector to respond. I wasn’t sure if I had remembered right or if I had somehow said something that could incriminate myself. I wasn’t even sure that the black orb wasn’t tampered with before it was placed in my hand, either . . .

  Then, the detector beeped three times.

  “Yet, you have more of which blood?”

  “Human.”

  Beep . . . beep . . . beep.

  “Sergeant Ehlers, you were ordered to report to Tartarus on October nine, twenty-four fifty-two, where you were to share specific, classified information with the Council. En route, your transporter was taken down. By the time a unit was dispatched to clean up the mess, we discovered it was already taken care of, and your body was missing. Naturally, we speculated what a person would want with the body of a Vanguard. We thought it was to obtain the information stored on your PIC. That was until you unlocked your apartment six days following the accident. It was then we were able to track your whereabouts again.”

  “You were unable to track me while I was—”

  “No. I’m sure you understand our reason for concern. Considering you were seen with a person of interest and his assistant on several occasions.”

  “Alexander Barabbas,” I muttered. A bitter taste entered my mouth.

  Because of Alexander, this whole mess started. He was one of the very creatures Nepherium had warned the world about. But I knew the rest of the world remained unaware of Alexander’s big reveal just before the explosion took out his ma
nsion. Evil incarnate.

  “Yes. Him,” Captain Morrigan said. “What did he want from you?”

  “My memories.”

  “You gave them to him?”

  “No,” I shouted. In a calmer tone, I added, “I lost them before that. I was told it was due to my head injury. Then Noah told me he took them.”

  “Captain Ehlers is in the High Clearance Med Ward, is he not?”

  “Yes. He is,” I said just above a whisper. Pain, bittersweet, filled the hollow pit of my chest. A tear fell down my cheek, unchecked and unannounced. I was too lost in that overwhelming emotion to notice if the detector beeped or buzzed. It didn’t matter, and I didn’t care. I knew it was my fault he was there.

  The captain stood and pressed her thumb against the back side of the black orb. The vibrations stopped as the link was broken. When she lifted her hand, she pulled the orb from mine and replaced it in her pocket. I listened to her steps as they approached the door.

  As she placed her palm on the pad to unlock the door, I said, “Is that what this is about? You think I was involved with Alexander?”

  The door opened. She took a step out of the room, standing half in and half out my door. Speaking over her shoulder, she said, “I have lunch in two hours. Be ready then.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  She cleared the door, allowed it to close, and left me without a response.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A Kansas native, Samantha LaFantasie spends her free time with her spouse and three kids. Writing has always been a passion of hers, forgoing all other desires to devote to this one obsession, even though she often finds herself arguing with her characters through much of the process. She’s primarily a fantasy writer but often feels pulled to genres such as sci-fi, romance, and others. Among her writing credentials, she has authored works such as Heart Song (her debut novel) and Made to Forget. Samantha loves to take time to enjoy other activities such as photography and playing her favorite game of all time, Guild Wars 2.

  http://samanthalafantasie.com/

  Other Books by Samantha:

  Heart Song

  Coming Soon:

  Forced to Remember

  Fated: Return of the Fallen Queen

  A Prescription for Delirium

  by

  Noree Cosper

  PROLOGUE

  Rome, 1536

  The iron spikes in the manacles pricked the wrists of the boy Ose inhabited. Ose’s very essence burned. No mortal pain could compare. His control over the body slipped again, and he slumped back in the chair to which he sat bound. The priest stood a few feet away, his head bowed so the wisps of white hair fell before his face. He held a crucifix out before him as he prayed.

  Incense clogged the air of the tiny stone basement of the church. A circle of candles surrounded him and the priest, another barrier to prevent Ose from escaping. Damn Vittorio. The human wasn’t worth the flesh he’d been sculpted into. Ose almost had him at the threshold of giving up his soul with promises of riches until this priest had arrived in Rome. Ose had come to the church thinking to seal the contract with Vittorio. Instead, he’d been caught in the trap.

  “God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, I appeal to your holy name, humbly begging your kindness, that you graciously grant me help against this and every unclean spirit now tormenting this creature of yours; through Christ our Lord,” the priest chanted in Latin.

  How dare this ape call him unclean? Their existence depended on flesh and soul, so easily manipulated and controlled. He was pure spirit, pure thought. He manipulated.

  “Gabriella, the holy water.” The priest glanced behind him.

  A small figure stepped out of the shadows in the corner of the room, carrying a glass vial. Everything about this girl spoke peasant, from the white linen dress and sandals to the calluses on her hands. A coif covered the braids of her black hair. Her gaze burned into him as she set the holy water at the edge of the circle. The skin of her face tightened as her upper lip curled away from her teeth. Ose smiled at her. It was a shame he was about to be exorcised. She would have proven a delight to toy with. The priest patted her on the shoulder and picked up the holy water. The droplets he sprayed on him seared through the flesh to his spirit.

  “I cast you out, unclean spirit, along with every satanic power of the enemy, every spectre from hell, and all your fell companions; in the name of Lord Jesus Christ be gone and stay far from this creature of God,” the priest said.

  Why should these humans have the right to cast him out? He’d walked this world in their flesh before they were even aware enough to know their Creator. Ose concentrated his will on keeping control of the boy’s body even as the words pushed at him to depart.

  “For it is He who commands you, He who flung you headlong from the heights of heaven into the depths of hell. It is He who commands you, He who once stilled the sea and the wind and the storm.” The priest grimaced and clutched his chest.

  Why must he suffer, be eternally forsaken by his brothers and Father for a decision he’d made? He’d been given the will to choose. If it had been wrong, why give any choice at all? The body convulsed, jerking him out of the chair and onto the ground. The spikes dug into the flesh as he strained against the chains.

  “Hearken, therefore, and tremble in fear, Ose, you enemy of the faith.” The priest fell to his knees, wheezing. “You foe of the human race—”

  The priest choked, his fingers clutching at the sackcloth robe he wore. Ose straightened from his hunched position as the jarring of his spirit subsided. The body once again began to obey his will. He laughed at the holy man. The frailties of humanity. If the priest intended to die, Ose was keen to help him do so. He strained against his bonds and pulled the priest closer. The vial of holy water skidded across the floor in their struggle. Ose wrapped his hands around the priest’s neck.

  “Padre Ricci.” Gabriella’s voice rose in a panic.

  “I’ll be right with you, my dear,” Ose said.

  The padre’s face flushed a purplish red and his hands batted at Ose’s hands. The spikes dug into his wrists and his hands fell limp on the armrests for a second. He forced his will over the boy’s body and tightened his grip. The key to his shackles had to be on the priest. Once free, he would deal with the girl at his leisure. She ran back to the corner, shifting objects around in a bag until she pulled out a journal. What could she do? She was only female.

  The girl flipped through the pages. “I exorcise ye, and powerfully banish ye, commanding ye with strength and violence by him who spake and it was done; and by all these names.”

  Impossible. How could the girl know the Hebrew incantations of Solomon? They were supposed to be lost and replaced with lies written by the very demons Solomon bound. Ose let go of the priest, who lay back coughing. The devil dug through the holy man’s robes. There had to be a pocket or chain that held the key. He had to stop the girl before she continued.

  “El Shaddai, Elohim, E—Elohi, Tzabaoth, Elim, Asher Eheieh, Yah, Tetragrammaton, Shaddai,” Gabriella said, “which signify God the high and almighty, the God of Israel.”

  The Father who had forsaken him, all because of Lucifer’s plan to reach the Celestial Throne. A grip, colder than any glacier, pulled at him. The body shuddered, and he fell forward on the priest. He struggled to maintain control. The key had to be beyond the circle. Ose pulled at the chains and tried to drag the chair with him. Damn, this iron inhibited his power.

  “Through whom undertaking all our operations we shall prosper in all the works of our hands, seeing that the Lord is now, always, and for-forever with us, in our heart and on our lips,” the girl said.

  She’d stumbled over the words. The banishment wouldn’t work, yet why was the pulling becoming stronger? He collapsed, unable to move the boy’s body any farther. Wisps of greenish black light flared before his eyes. The cold burned him. This couldn’t be happening.

  “And by his holy names, and by the virtue of the sovereign God,
we shall accomplish all our work.”

  With Gabriella’s last words, the body jerked upright. The green and black surrounded him as he rocketed from the earthly world at a speed even beyond his own thought. The light faded into a black void. This wasn’t his home in hell, where he should have ended. Instead of his legions of demons, emptiness surrounded him. Or perhaps not. A shadow pulled itself from the blackness.

  “Welcome, little brother,” it said.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hampton, TX, Present Day

  Not five minutes in this backwater town and I had a demon sniffing my trail. He scanned the room with the nostrils of his wide nose flaring. His hair lay plastered against his forehead in greasy brown locks. He towered over everyone, even the people standing, as he squeezed between the large round tables and the gathering at the bar. The frayed threads of his jeans and his leather vest matched the dress of the rest of the roadhouse.

  I lifted my drink to my mouth and shifted to my second sight. Most people say the eyes are the windows to the soul. Those people can’t see auras. The lights on the walls dimmed, and the air took on a gray haze, like seeing things under water. Colors bloomed out from each human in the building, blending together in a rainbow. The demon was another matter.

  The shaggy black dog the size of a pony stood semi-imposed on all fours over the form of the man. Flames blazed from its eyes as it scanned the room. Was there really a dog walking through a busy Texas bar? No. Demons had no corporeal form and had to possess physical bodies. This one chose a werewolf. Dio, I had a hellhound on my ass.

  Talk about bad timing. Ose already had some of his minions patrolling. If it found me, it would go running to its master to let him know I was in town. My hunt was in danger of ending before it even started.