PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Marge’s hotel was across town from the one I'd stayed at. Her truck sat parked outside one of the rooms, with the bed closest to the door. Tres stood outside with his hands stuffed in his pockets, and his forehead puckered as he stared down at the sidewalk. He popped his head up when the car’s headlights flashed over him. A ghost of a smile flickered across his face. It disappeared as I used the roof to pull myself out of the car.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  I waved him off. “I’ll be fine with rest, but we have work to finish.”

  “Marge said she wanted to have some alone time with the demon.”

  I swallowed the lump stuck in my throat. It was a demon this time. Marge’s tender mercies could get us the information we needed. But my stomach protested at even the thought of stooping to their level.

  Adrian opened the door, and I stepped behind him. The tables and chairs were pushed against the walls. Tattoo lay in the center of the room. On the floor, two concentric circles surrounded the Star of David. Astrological and planetary symbols filled the spaces between the points of the star. My chest swelled upon seeing it. They’d drawn the binding circle exactly like I’d taught them. Marge stood over him with a knife in one hand and a bag of salt in the other. He rested his head on the floor. Sweat dripped down his skin, mixing with the blood from the cuts along his arms and face. His leather jacket lay draped over one of the chairs.

  “Where’s my contract?” Marge demanded. She glanced to us, her look of anticipation turning to a scowl when she saw me.

  “You look like you’re getting ready to eat him,” I said. Yes, my mind goes to dark places.

  “And you look like a drowned swamp rat,” she said.

  “Close enough. Let’s get this over with so I can wash this junk out of my hair. What have you found out?”

  “Haven’t had enough time with him yet.”

  He laughed. “This girl can’t break me. I’m an alastor.”

  I whistled. Wrath had sent an alastor after Ose. He must have pissed the Throne off thoroughly. And the alastor had just made a telling mistake. He had no idea who I was. I moved to kneel beside him, and he looked up at me with a grin.

  “I’m going to break you before I kill you,” he said.

  Definitely had no idea.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  He spat in my face. Tres lunged toward the circle, but I held my hand up. This I could handle. I stood and wiped my face off with a towel from the bathroom.

  “You won’t be laughing back at the Throne.” I shook my index finger at him in mock thought. “Now, I believe alastors who return unsuccessful have to pay a heavy price. A lot of pain, yes?”

  The grin dropped from his face, and Marge’s scowl deepened. Once again I’d taken away her fun. As if she hadn't gotten enough action for the night. I know I had. I took a deep breath as a wave of exhaustion passed through me. I strained to keep the smug look on my face. I only had to keep this game up a little longer.

  “You’re bluffing,” he said.

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

  Red light filled his eyes, and his body began to convulse. He rolled on his back, his legs and arms jerking hard enough they bounced off the floor. I stopped chanting, and he slumped. The rise and fall of his chest were his only movements.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  He glared at me, but a look of fear had replaced the look of derision that had been in his eyes before.

  “Ose stole the hellhound,” he said.

  “How is that even possible?”

  “That’s above my pay grade. He and his bitch of a daughter have been stealing from the Thrones.”

  “But the demons that work for Ose still have an affiliation to one of the Thrones. They have to.”

  He shook his head. “He replaces it with something else.”

  I sat on the bed and rested my chin on my hands. Ose had the ability to free demons from their Thrones. John had said Ose had been liberated, but I didn’t know he could do that to others. Not only did it take the power from the Thrones, but it threw the hierarchy of Hell into chaos. Wrath wouldn’t be the only one after him. It just arrived first. However, they were all in for a disappointment. I stood and drew my sword.

  “You have already failed. I killed the hellhound. Don’t worry, you won’t make it back to hell to receive your punishment,” I said.

  “Hold up,” Marge said. “I’m not done with him.”

  “No, not your way,” I said.

  “Why the hell not? He’s a demon.”

  The alastor stared at Tres, a slow smile spreading across his face. His eyes shifted to Adrian and back.

  “What are you looking at?” Tres asked.

  “Don’t feed the bears,” Adrian said.

  “Shut up.”

  “We don’t have to sink to their level,” I told Marge.

  She gave an ugly laugh. “They’re not human. Hell, the human he’s in gave up his body.”

  The alastor laughed, still looking at Tres. “Your daddy would be disappointed in you.”

  Tres’s face twisted in a scowl. “What do you know about my father?”

  I glanced over at the alastor. “You shut up. Tres, don’t listen to him.” I turned back, holding a finger up. “So, you’re willing to dirty your soul. It’s already in danger.”

  “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

  I tilted my head down but kept my gaze on her. “I think you know.”

  “Your daddy was proud of his family’s work. But you’ve fucked it off. You’re the least favorite son.”

  Tres lunged at him. Adrian grabbed his brother’s arm. Tres spun and slammed his fist in Adrian’s face, causing him to stagger back. His eye patch slid to the side, revealing small raised lines of pink scar tissue that surrounded his eye. He returned a punch of his own. Tres tried to put him in a headlock. Both wrestled, moving back and forth. The heel of Tres’s boot rubbed against the line of the binding circle, smudging it. The alastor laughed.

  The room flashed red for a second. It was so fast that if I’d hadn’t been a skilled hunter I would have mistaken it for a trick of the light. I moved to the circle, my sword ready. I was too late. Tattoo lay on the ground, groaning. The alastor had fled.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I dabbed the damp rag around the cut on Tres’s forehead. The wound ran from under his hairline to the left eyebrow, but looked shallow. He’d received it when his head had met the corner of the nightstand in Marge’s hotel. The punch Adrian had given him had swelled his eye shut. He winced, sucking in his breath at the sting of the alcohol. He sat at the dining room table, and I leaned over him. Towers of books sat stacked on the dining room table. We’d relocated after our debacle with the alastor to what I’d come to refer to as the safe house.

  He grinned when his gaze met mine. “Looks like our roles are reversed.”

  I smiled despite the fact I should be chiding him for his actions. “I only know the basics.”

  “Well, the basics have gotten you this far.”

  My smile faded a little. “They’ve worked at times.”

  The times when it didn’t work, I’d died. I kept from saying that part aloud. My humanity was already in question. Adrian kept dragging his gaze to me throughout the night. I didn’t enjoy these deaths. Each time I had to fight against my own urge to give up, to follow the female’s words. Then, when I won that battle, I had to worry about where I awoke. I shuddered and shook my head.

  “Ugh,” Marge said from the doorway. “All right to avoid seeing more of this, someone tell me what the fuck we are supposed to be doing? Thanks to the two bumbling brothers here, I lost my demon.”

  “We’re all to blame for that,” I said. “We need to move forward.”

  She waved a hand at the brothers. “These three came here without a fucking clue about what t
hey were dealing with.”

  “Then we will solve that issue now,” Adrian said from behind Marge.

  He moved around her and sat down on the couch. The puffed-up skin rose around his eye patch. He wore his usual emotionless mask as his gaze traveled over the three of us. I kept my focus on wrapping Tres’s head in a bandage, glancing at Adrian occasionally.

  “We have been here for a week and still are no closer to finding Ose,” he began.

  “A lot has happened, though,” Tres put in.

  The choir began their song as Esais joined in. “Yes, which is why we need to stop and consolidate what we know.”

  “Let’s start with tonight,” Adrian turned in my direction. “What is an alastor?”

  “It’s a type of demon that serves the Throne of Wrath exclusively. They’re avenging demons. Wrath uses them against other demons in feuds. When on Earth they like to visit the sins of the fathers on their sons.” I nodded to Tres. “That’s what he was doing to you.”

  “And you fell for it like any newbie,” Marge said.

  “Like you’re any better,” Tres snapped.

  “I am better. I know what I fight,” she said.

  “And now we do as well,” Adrian cut in.

  “Look, just because you learn fast doesn’t mean you’re skilled. I’ve been killing these bastards for a while now,” Marge said.

  “Why?” I asked.

  She jumped, caught off guard, and her mouth closed on her tirade. She blinked at me. “What?”

  “Why do you hunt them?” I asked. “You seemed to take a lot of pleasure in causing them pain.”

  She snorted. “And you don’t? Why do you kill them?”

  Allegra’s catty smile flashed in my head. Once again I was sucked in, forced to watch her lick my husband’s blood off each of her fingertips. My child screamed as the smoke of his burned flesh choked my lungs. Ice filled my veins, rushing to every part of my body and leaving no room for anything other than hatred. I would see that fiend dead by my hand. It would probably be the last thing I did.

  Marge smiled, watching my face. “Now, cut and paste different names and dates. You’ll have my story.”

  “Except for the part where you made a deal with a demon,” I said.

  “What?” Tres stood, pushing me away from him. “You’re working with demons?”

  “I didn’t make a damn deal. We can’t all be cursed with immortality.” She sneered.

  Five steps took me to Cajun girl. My fist flattened against her cheek, and she remained as firm as the wall she leaned against. I pulled back, shaking my hand. The split skin stung worse than I remembered. The bitch was tough. Her tongue pushed out her cheek as she ran it along her jaw. Her smile twisted into a scowl.

  Tres looked on, his mouth hanging open, while Adrian smirked. Both did nothing to get between us. They waited to see what happened next.

  “Children, could you stop, please?" Esais said.

  She ignored him and planted her foot in my abdomen. The kick sent me flying into the table, toppling the stacks of books. Tres stumbled out of his chair to avoid a tower falling on top of him. I pulled myself up, rubbing my hip where it had hit the edge. The mess spread across the floor, all bent bindings and wrinkled pages.

  The choir’s volume doubled, and their pitch rose, echoing through my ears until I couldn’t hear anything else. Esais’s voice thundered above it. Each syllable was a dagger to my head. Wincing in pain caused my head to hurt more.

  “Enough,” he said. “We do not have time for this ridiculous fighting.”

  Marge slid down the wall, holding her forehead. Adrian rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples while Tres fell forward on the chair he’d vacated. After what seemed like an eternity, the cacophony receded and sound returned to normal. The pain became a bearable throb.

  “We have already failed to protect people tonight,” Esais continued at a manageable level. “Let’s try not to lose anyone else due to our negligence.”

  “Casualties are bound to happen,” I said.

  “It could have been prevented," he said.

  We had a bleeding heart as the head of the Van Helsings. It surprised me, especially with his family history, that he hadn’t learned not everyone could be saved. Of course, this wasn’t a concept that could be explained; it had to be experienced.

  “Perhaps you’ve forgotten what it’s like to care for the wellbeing of others,” his voice whispered.

  The others didn’t notice the last one, so I thought back at him. “Some thoughts are private. Besides, I helped that family.”

  “But you were more intent on the demon,” he spoke only to me.

  His next words reached everyone. “I can say Marge is not working with the demons. Now, can we move on?”

  “We still need to find Ose, and we still have two demons at large.”

  I bit my lip and concentrated on Adrian’s words, pushing any self-contemplation away until later. “What have you found on the hospital, Esais?”

  “I met with Dr. Navotny one on one today.”

  “And?” Tres asked. “Was this whole thing worth it?”

  “If it’s not Ose, it’s someone close to him. The man exudes a miasma of madness. It was hard to stay in the same room with him.”

  “How is your charm?” I asked.

  “It’s fine. Tomorrow I will scan the orderlies, especially the ones that work the third floor.”

  “That leaves us with dealing with the two demons,” I said. “I’d say Malantha first. She is the most dangerous as Ose’s second.”

  “How do we blind the seer, though?” Adrian asked.

  “Actually, she is blind to you. Lucy performed a ritual for you and your brothers. It’s why Malantha never found you for ten years. I had a similar one on me but,” I trailed off.

  But she had found me at the graveyard tonight. She’d known I would be there. My ritual hadn’t been strong enough. It must have broken when she’d seen me at the carnival. I shivered, remembering the eyes behind that crystal ball.

  “I’m going to have to cast the ritual on myself again before we can do anything. Otherwise she will know. It’s going to take me three days.”

  “Three days?” Tres asked. “That’s inconvenient.”

  “Rituals take longer than symbols or charms, but they’re a little more powerful.”

  “We know what we need to do. Now, I’m going to sleep. You should all do the same,” Esais said to everyone.

  He barely kept the exhaustion in check as the choir faded away. I sighed and began to pick up the books. He’d had a long day. Not only had he been admitted into the hospital, but he’d stayed in mental contact with us up until the fight. It was just stress. Still, if he continued to push himself, he’d make it easier for this madness to take hold.

  “I think I’m going to get some pain pills,” Tres said, heading to his room.

  Marge walked down the hall with a wink at me. She even took pleasure in the one kick. I didn’t show it, but she somehow knew I was still hurting. The woman was twisted. An itch formed in between my shoulder blades from Adrian’s gaze. I crouched down and began stacking the books in a pile, ignoring him. The air conditioner clicked on.

  “Do you think he will last the three days?” he finally asked.

  “He’s strong. Have faith,” I said.

  “That’s something I’ve never been good at.”

  He shook his head and moved into the kitchen. The door leading from the kitchen to the garage slammed shut. I walked to the hall and paused at Tres’s door, still cracked open. I knocked lightly and opened the door. He had his back to me and his shirt off. Wide scars started from each shoulder and ran down his back until they crisscrossed in the middle. He spun around and glared at me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just came to check on you.”

  “Did you get a good look at what Ose left me?” he asked.

  “Ose did this to you?”

  “During his last visit.”


  “You were with your parents.”

  Tres’s mouth twisted in a bitter smile. “He thought it would be fun to play with me. I’m lucky Esais showed up.” He covered his face with his hands and ran them through his hair. “I still don’t know how he did it. He was supposed to be in America with Adam.”

  The power of an emissary was a strange thing. If an angel gifted Esais, then it made it very possible for him to travel there in time. Tres slipped his shirt back on, avoiding my gaze. I reached out to touch his shoulder, but he pulled away from me.

  “You can’t heal the scars?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Ever since that night, I can’t heal myself.”

  “Oh, Tres.”

  “I don’t want your pity. I’ve had enough of that all my life. I just want Ose dead.”

  “Done,” I said.

  I paused at the door for one last glance, but he kept his back to me. I headed to my room with my shoulders slumped. The weariness I’d held off for hours refused to be ignored any longer. It dragged me into unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The door swings open, allowing the light to spill on the dirt. The burning oak Dario had cut drifts on the air. Home invites me in from the cold night. Yet, my feet cling to the cobblestone, and my hand remains glued to the handle. My husband and son wait behind the door, but still I hesitate.

  The stars blink out above me, until only the Dog Star remains as my guide. Its light fills my vision. Soon all that remains is me and the light, alone in the cold emptiness.

  My vision clears, and the door opens wider. I step inside. The basket of veal and grain I carry drops to the ground.

  She lounges in my chair with my babe resting in the crook of her arm. Her hair coils atop her head like a sleeping snake. The red of her gown clashes with the mauve of her skin. Her lips curve up as I enter, giving a flash of pointed teeth. She trails her claws down my husband Dario’s cheek while he rests his head on her knee.

  “Welcome home, Gabriella.” Allegra's lilted voice rings through the room.

  I freeze, my breath stuck in my throat. My eyes remain on my son. He lies sleeping, his soft face pale and relaxed.

  “Surprised to see me alive?” she asks.