PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Shh,” I said. “It will all be over soon. No more pain.”

  “I can’t watch this.” The choir disappeared along with Esais.

  The sword slid into the demon child’s chest with little resistance. He sagged, and the wheezing stopped. I lifted him in my arms, biting my lip. I couldn’t leave him alone in the hall. I carried the body back to his room. The door hung open. I lay him on the bed and pulled the cover over him before heading to the first floor.

  Esais wouldn’t look at me when I entered his room. His skin had taken an almost gray color, and his cheek-bones protruded from his skin. Bags drooped from his reddened eyes. I swallowed, blinking back the tears.

  “I didn’t have any other option,” I said.

  “I know,” he said. “You should leave. I can’t hold them asleep much longer.”

  I took the long walk back to the house. Emptiness greeted me. I curled up in my bed, shaking. I couldn’t hold the sobs back anymore. The boy’s tortured eyes stared at me every time I closed my eyes. The two had been so melded together I wasn’t sure if killing the boy had freed him or sent him to oblivion with the demon.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The tiny figure writhes in the flames as the black smoke fills the room. Its fumes gag me. My nails splinter as I dig them into the wooden floor, screaming.

  “Marco,” I say in a half sob.

  Dario turns back to Allegra with the look of a dog waiting for praise. She smiles and holds her arms out to him. He comes to her. They kiss. She makes sure it’s slow, so I must witness every moment. She yanks his heart from his chest. Another scream is pulled from my throat. She lets his body drop and holds his heart up, letting the blood run down her arm.

  “You tried to stop me, but your husband’s heart is still mine,” she says.

  Allegra leans over me. I raise my hands to claw her face with my broken nails, but she bats my hands away. Her grip on my chin is like steel, and I am forced to meet her gaze.

  “I will reward you for your ingenuity,” she says. “I will make you mine.”

  The purple flames in her eyes fill every part of me. They are all that exist.

  “Ah, Gabriella, still in this place I see.” Her voice penetrates the flames.

  I blink and find myself back in the living room of my home. The fire burns without my son in it. My husband is absent. Allegra sits in the same chair with the demon child in her lap. His tentacle is wrapped around her shoulders, and his head rests on her breast. She caresses his cheek.

  “This one was different, wasn’t it?” she asks. “Did he remind you of your son?”

  I say nothing. She rises from the chair, setting the boy down. She walks to the hearth and runs her finger along the mantel. She gazes up at the painting of Dario’s father.

  “How many times have we returned here?” she asks.

  Over the centuries this dream had occurred time and again. This was the first time I’d been cognizant of it being a dream.

  “Even that Romanian boy was not enough. You still come back here.” She turns to face me. “You’re never going to be reunited with your son and husband. I won’t let you.”

  “Haven’t you had your fill?” I ask, my throat still aching from the screaming and crying.

  “Not nearly. You tried to kill me.”

  “You seduced my husband and tried to corrupt his soul.”

  She laughs. “Oh, I succeeded. His sins were not absolved at his death.”

  I hang my head, letting tears fall down my cheeks. “I failed. You have him, you live. What do you want from me?”

  “You’re special.” She smiles. “It’s so wonderful to see my game working. All this anguish you have. Even if your husband was an unfaithful louse, you still cling to his memory. You won’t let another man touch your heart.”

  “I loved Dimitri.”

  “Yet, you let him go so easily.”

  The demon child moves to the hearth and steps into the fire. The flames darken, taking a purple color. It spreads along the walls of the house, consuming everything. It surrounds Allegra and me, casting shadows on her face.

  “Let’s face the truth,” Allegra says. “You will always remain here with me.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  I gasped awake. I pushed my pillow away from my face and sat up. The clock beside the bed read three-thirty a.m. Less than two hours of sleep. I lay back on my pillow with a moan and closed my eyes. The image of my child burning in the fire flashed in my eyes. My throat constricted, and I sat up with an annoyed sigh. The point in between my eyebrows ached and the world was unfocused, but I was awake.

  I slipped on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. In the bathroom I let the water run as I stared at my reflection. The bird’s nest at the back of my skull caused the rest of my hair to stand out from my head. The shadows under my eyes could hide a person in them. Another sleepless night lay ahead of me. I hadn’t had much rest since I’d arrived in this town. Maybe it was because Ose and I had a past, but something about the demons sparked old memories.

  I splashed some water on my face before I attacked the tangled mess on my head with a brush. I glanced in the mirror at the girl behind me. She glared at me, her beautiful form a mangled mess. I tried to save her only to have the hellhound slaughter her with her parents. I spun around and stared into empty air. The mirror held only my reflection. I set the brush down and rubbed my eyes. This lack of sleep had me seeing apparitions.

  Classic rock blared from the garage. Adrian must be working hard there. I wandered through the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. My eyes played over the lunch meat, milk, and leftover Chinese food before closing the door. A guitar riff dragged my attention back to the door that led to the garage. My hand paused on the door handle as I looked back on the hallway, cold and empty. The door creaked as I opened it. I couldn’t hear it as much as feel the vibration it made.

  Adrian hunched over a workbench with his back to me. Styx’s “Renegade” played from a radio sitting on the corner of the workbench. I moved closer to see what he was working on. On a cloth lay pieces to several different guns. A handle from what looked to be a flintlock sat beside the bullet cylinder of a revolver. He looked up from examining the metal cylinder when I cleared my throat.

  “You should be in bed,” he said, turning back to the barrel.

  “I couldn't sleep,” I said.

  “So you decided to come bother me?”

  “I didn't see a do not disturb sign.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I came to see what you are working on.”

  He pointed to the wall where a series of sketches hung. They were circles from my sketch book. I recognized the banishing circle and the demon-binding circle. I rested my hand on my chin as I studied the largest one in the center. The symbols along the outer edge were for the binding circle, but the design was used for the banishing circle. Padre Ricci stepped up beside me and squinted at the symbols.

  “This could destroy a demon,” he said.

  “Where did you get this symbol?” I asked Adrian.

  “I created it from the others. I’m surprised no one has tried it.”

  “It’s impossible for humans to do. If the symbol is incorrect, the magic doesn’t work or there are disastrous consequences.”

  Ose’s banishment from so many years ago flashed in my mind. He’d said my mistake at the words had changed him, shown him the truth. I’d driven him mad, and now he intended to do the same to me. I shuddered, and Padre Ricci placed a hand on my shoulder. I smiled at him and stiffened as I remembered he wasn’t real.

  “Someone had to create them in the first place.” Adrian frowned over at me.

  “They were secrets whispered by spirits. Only they . . . ” I trailed off as I stared hard at Adrian with my aura sight.

  The ghostly woman leaned over his shoulder, still whispering in his ear. She touched his hand as he picked up a metal tube. Humans couldn’t make a new circle, but spirits could. And emissaries, those
touched by spirits, always broke the rules of magic. Spirits were the ones who taught magic to humans. Adrian’s inspiration from this spirit allowed him to accomplish something I’d never seen before, the formation of a new Hermetic Circle.

  “So, how does this all work?” I asked.

  He held the tube in my direction. “This propels gas into the chamber and burns the symbol onto the bullet as it is fired.”

  “So, no tiny robots?”

  “No.”

  I wandered over to the radio and began fiddling with the dial. The music became replaced with static as I searched for another station. He paused and set the tube down, turning his whole body in my direction.

  “Is there something else you want?” he asked.

  I shrugged. “This is the only part of the house that didn't seem empty.”

  “So you came here looking for comfort,”

  “No," I said, defensively. "Why would I need comfort?”

  “I don't know, perhaps you're sentimental, like my brother.”

  “He told you about the boy?”

  “I was still connected to the two of you.”

  “You disapprove?”

  He turned back to the table and picked up the barrel again. After examining it in the light, he took a file and began working on the inside. “Esais believes in the good of everyone. That is going to get him killed one day. If you think the same thing, then I’m surprised you’ve survived as long as you have.”

  I’d seen plenty of examples throughout my life. One man killing another over money or a woman. The main reason most people obeyed the law was because they were afraid of getting caught. It made tempting humans so easy for demons. What better way to use a soul than to sell it for a wish?

  “I have seen it, but maybe there is something to what your brother believes. Why do you do this if not to help people?” I asked.

  “You know about the oath.”

  “You mean that is the only reason you hunt?”

  “It is the family business.”

  I snorted. "One you haven't been involved in for years from what I’ve heard.”

  “Maybe you should stop listening to stories.”

  "Maybe you should start listening to others.”

  He rolled his eyes. “And the monster lectures the hunter.”

  “Back to the insults,” I threw my hands up. “l guess I was lucky for a few days’ reprieve.”

  He set the barrel back down and let out a deep sigh. He moved between the radio and me, changing the station back to classic rock.

  “I agreed for us to work together. That doesn’t mean we need to have any heart to hearts.”

  I stepped back from him but he continued to meet my gaze with his glare. I must have been addled in the brain to think I should seek Adrian out for comfort. Strangers would have offered better words.

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have thought there would be anything more.”

  “That is your mistake.”

  “I won't make it again.”

  I pushed the door shut and leaned against it. The air conditioner clicked on, replacing the silence. The dark hallway yawned before me. To hell with it, if I was going to feel sorry for myself I might as well do it with alcohol and not alone in this house. I called John.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  “Where do you want to go?” John asked when I closed the car door.

  “Does your hotel have a minibar?” I asked.

  “I have some beer and a bottle of bourbon.”

  “Your place, then.”

  I turned on the radio. The Ramones’ “I Wanna Be Sedated” blared out at me. I hummed along as the houses passed by. If I ever needed sedation, tonight would be the time. John chuckled.

  “Do you like anything modern?” he asked.

  I shrugged and started to sing. Music was one of my joys in life. If a song moved me or fit my mood, I treasured it, despite its time period. I stared out the window. The town’s bedtime had passed long ago, but Bob and family had forgotten that. They stood outside Rickie’s Diner. A chill ran down my spine.

  “What’s wrong?” John asked.

  I started, glancing back at him. “What?”

  “You stopped singing.”

  “Nothing.”

  I leaned back and closed my eyes. Whatever I saw I knew would be in my own head. I concentrated on the blackness and cleared my mind of any thoughts. John’s hand on my arm woke me. I blinked the blurriness from my eyes. The white brick of the Hampton Inn stood before our parked car.

  “Living the high life?” I asked with a smirk.

  “Are you expecting a five star hotel in this Po-dunk town?” he asked.

  We took one of the side doors and traveled up to the second floor. A porcelain vase sat on a white marble table. Replicas of classic paintings hung on the walls in gilded frames. I followed the flower design on the thick red carpet to John’s door. He unlocked it, and I slipped under his arm as he held it open for me. I sat on the four-poster bed, playing with the pattern on the white bedspread while John opened the small refrigerator. I took the bottle from him as he sat down. I twisted off the cap and took a long drink. Little bits of ice clung to my esophagus, making me cough.

  “So, you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” he asked.

  I took another sip of the beer, smacking my lips at the bitterness. This was my reason to come here. So why were the words stuck in my throat? I’d known John for years, and he’d always been supportive. Persistently so. After I’d killed his wife, I told him to pick up the pieces of his life. Instead he’d followed me everywhere, claiming to want to help, but he’d gotten in the way more than being useful. I’d had to be abusive almost to the point of hurting him. He’d disappeared for months, long enough for me to think I was finally rid of him. When I saw him again, he’d brought me information. Reliable information. He’d used his background in journalism to build contacts. From then on, he’d been a pillar of support. And here I was, having trouble divulging my problems. I opened my mouth and shut it again. I held my index finger up to him and downed my beer.

  “I’m seeing things . . . people. Ones that have died,” I said.

  “You see dead people?” he asked with a grin.

  I tilted my head to the side and pursed my lips. “Didn’t I just say that?”

  He shook his head. “Never mind. So, ghosts?”

  I held up the remains of my amulet. “That night at the funhouse, he affected me more than I thought.”

  He stood up and pulled another beer from the refrigerator. Our hands brushed, his warmth contrasting with the frostiness of the beer. I shivered, wanting more. I opened it and took a deep gulp.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “So, you’re having delusions? Of who?”

  “People from the past and from here.”

  “The past like Dimitri?”

  I took another drink. Allegra laughed and leaned against the wall near the window. She crossed her arms and blew me a kiss.

  “I told you,” she said. “Always.”

  I covered my face with my hand. Tears spilled from my eyes, and my throat closed up. I whimpered, my face contorting into a grimace. John put his hand on my shoulder, but I moved away. The bed shifted as he stood up. I heard the hum of the refrigerator and the tinkling of ice. He replaced my beer with a glass.

  “It’s time for something stronger,” he said.

  I drained the drink, enjoying the burn as it traveled down. I sniffed and held the glass out to him, waving for another. He brought it to me. By the fourth, the tears had subsided. I stared down at my hands.

  “In my time a woman was supposed to be docile and chaste,” I said. “She tended to her family and supported her husband. It was a woman’s honor.”

  “Sounds nothing like you.” He handed me the refilled glass.

  “Mmm. I was an honorable wife until my husband strayed. Even beyond then. I waited. But he stopped coming home. Our livelihood was in danger, and when I found Allegra,
I had to do something.”

  “You killed her.”

  “I failed.” I traced my finger along the rim of the glass. “I wonder if I should have taken the woman’s honor and done nothing. Would that have been better? I would have had my son.”

  “You tried to do what was right. To stop the demon.”

  “Then I should have called a priest.” I drained the glass and let it fall to the ground. I lay back on the bed.

  He lay down beside me, propping his head up with his hand. His brow wrinkled, and he worked his jaw in thought. “What about all you’ve done over the centuries? All the demons you killed.”

  I snorted. “I think the Church would have handled it eventually.”

  “I would have died without you.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. Were all the people I saved worth my unhappiness? If these delusions continued, I wouldn’t be able to save anyone. I covered my eyes with my arm.

  “What use am I if I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not?” I asked. “I’m losing the only thing I have of worth.”

  He pulled my hand from my arm and stared into my eyes. “Do what you came here to do. Kill Ose.”

  “What?”

  “It’s his power. Kill him and you get your mind back.”

  “But what if I fail?”

  “You won’t. You’re the invincible Gabriella Di Luca.”

  I smiled and leaned up to kiss his cheek. At the scent of his aftershave, I shuddered. Allegra’s husky laugh filled my ears. I pushed his shoulder until he lay flat on his back and straddled him, my heart pounding in my chest. He smiled up at me.

  “I thought you didn’t want to have sex with me,” he said.

  I quieted his voice with my mouth. His lips opened, and our tongues twined together. I played with the edges of his shirt before yanking it up. He moaned as I gently raked my nails down his bare chest. I ground my pelvis into his, savoring the warmth that spread from between my legs every time I pressed into his hard cock.

  He pulled the buttons of my blouse until they came undone. I tossed it away with my bra. He leaned up and caught my nipple in his mouth. I gasped, my breath coming out in a hot sigh. My whole body tingled deliciously. It had been too long.