PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  Drawing a deep breath inward, I held it long enough to steady my anger. “Anthony, as I told you, this is none of your fucking business.”

  “Come now, Flynn. Indulge me.” He smiled. “Tell me of its relevance.”

  “I . . . ” The word emerged through the precarious hold I maintained on my own rage. My sharp tone of voice turned vitriolic. “ . . . would sooner slit your throat and take your wallet while you choke on your own blood. Let us finish our business before I change my mind.”

  Anthony shook his head. “Now, no need to get snarky. It’s a simple question.”

  “And my response a simple answer. Leave it alone.”

  “You know what your problem is.” With one hand, Anthony slid the wallet back into his coat. The other hand pointed his cigarette at me while he spoke. “You’re too intense, Flynn, for such a young immortal. You take your job too seriously and became reclusive and arrogant as a result. I can assure you, this will earn you no friends amongst the vampire collective.”

  “As if I desired such a thing.” My arms fell to my sides. I began to step around Anthony, itching to instill the fear of God in him now that the name of the game had changed. “You are all pompous bastards the lot of you and your ways irritate me. I could not care less about the opinions of such impotent mortal lovers.”

  Hiss eyes widened first, and then narrowed. “What did you call me?”

  The corner of my mouth curled in a grin. “I called you a fucking mortal lover. What do you have to say about that?”

  Anthony gritted his teeth, tossing aside his cigarette. “I would say that if being something other than the monster you are makes me a mortal lover, then being Sabrina’s trained pet makes you little more than the same brand of trash she is. Refuse.” He scoffed. “Utter refuse. Chosen son of an inferior coven! You have yours coming to you someday, I can promise you that.”

  “Is this a threat?”

  “More than a threat, it’s a fact. Even I see the jealousy your brethren harbor for you. Such jealousy can only fester for so long. They’ll surrender your head on a platter the first moment somebody offers thirty pieces of silver.” He smiled. “You may have the exterior of a warrior, but you have the heart of a lap dog. And I will not be insulted by such a subordinate creature.”

  “You shall see the teeth of this lap dog soon enough if you fail to produce that which you promised me, Anthony.” Two pointed teeth emerged from their slumber as I ceased pacing, balling my gloved hands into fists. “Or need I run you through to prove my point?”

  Anthony hissed, his own fangs slipping out and fury dancing in his eyes. “Bare your teeth at me will you? I was eating the flesh of children before you were suckling on your mother’s breast.”

  “And I have slain immortals for less arrogance than that.” Faster than the action of lighting a cigarette, I slipped both hands under the folds of my coat and drew a set of blades, holding out both knives for Anthony to see. “Eager to die?” I asked. “Do you have any notion of how quickly I could make you dust on the pavement?”

  Anthony sneered. “Where other men fight with fists, Flynn carries knives.”

  “Better a blade than a stake.” I lunged with a knife, but missed on purpose. Anthony dodged out of the way, his grin turning smug while I held back any facial response including the sadistic grin straining to emerge. “I find stakes idiotic,” I continued. “Do you not?”

  “Over-inflated mythological devises, much like you.”

  I lunged again, this time cutting into his jacket, forcing him to retreat a few paces. Anthony’s eyes darted to the cut and back to me as if afraid to allow me out of his sight. I smirked. “Is that supposed to be an insult?” I asked. “Coming from a vampire who dresses like the ringmaster of a circus and takes the company of mortals to cover for his inadequacies? I hope to heaven that if I am as pitiful of a creature at your age, somebody does me the favor of sending me to hell.”

  He hissed once more. When he dove for me, I sidestepped the attack and threw him to the ground. He spilled out, but moaned and rose to his feet. I anticipated Anthony’s next charge, and kicked him in the chest with such force that his feet left the ground. His head impacted with the concrete of the wall; a solid thud preceded a long, pain-laden groan.

  Springing toward him, I closed the distance between us and plunged a dagger deep into his stomach. Anthony screamed as I stepped back, watching him struggle. The hilt of my knife jutted from his abdomen. I had him pinned, and his wriggling merely served to injure him further.

  I turned the other knife around in my hand, surveying the ruins of a vampire with my sadistic smirk only growing more devious the longer I regarded him. “My, what an uncomfortable position to be in,” I said, shaking my head. “And to think, I have another knife here that . . . ah yes, wait . . . ” I held up a finger and lifted the blade close to my ear. “Yes, yes, I do believe this one says it wishes to know how black your heart is, Anthony. I do not know if I will be able to stop”

  “Alright!” Anthony yelled. He moaned once more and gritted his teeth, eyes clenching in a grimace. “Alright, I won’t ask any more bloody questions, Flynn. Just let me down.”

  “I beg your pardon?” I lowered the knife, twirling it around once before slipping it back into his sheath. “I believe you forgot to say please.”

  “Please! Please, please . . . bloody hell, let me down. I’m begging you.”

  “That is more like it.” Walking closer to Anthony, I wrapped my fingers around the knife’s hilt, but leaned forward and made certain to bare fangs again as I spoke. “Remember who you are trifling with. I would slice you from neck to stomach and leave you bleeding on the street to watch the sun rise. I suggest, when I remove this blade, you give me what I came for quickly and stop wasting my fucking time.”

  I ripped the knife from his body before he had the chance to answer and watched with an apathetic air as he crumpled to the gritty pavement again. Strolling away from the wounded vampire, I produced a cloth from my pocket and wiped the blade clean, my eyes rising toward the sky to gauge the time. I frowned and sheathed this blade as well. “Some time before dawn, please,” I said. “It is not getting any earlier.”

  “Fuck,” Anthony muttered while clutching onto the building and coming to a tentative stand. Pausing to touch his wound, he winced and raised his crimson-coated fingers up to his line of vision. “I had best make this our last encounter. You just ruined a perfectly good suit.”

  I said nothing in return. Anthony rummaged through his coat again and unfolded his wallet without hesitation. As he opened it, that sense of time standing still drifted from the creases of the leather and his bloody fingers held my attention captive while they reached inside. A gold chain gradually came to view as he raised his hand, and when the pendant emerged from its hiding place I had to fight the urge to draw a sharp breath inward at the sight of what he held.

  Anthony raised an eyebrow. “Is this what you requested?” he asked.

  Strolling forward with more confidence in my gait than I possessed at the moment, I snatched the necklace away. “Yes,” I said, my voice subdued in such a queer manner, it even struck me as odd. I cleared my throat to mask the slip in composure. Staring at the pendant, I lowered it into the palm of my other hand and allowed my thoughts to drift.

  I visited another time and place. Back to when my name was Peter and I possessed the pulse of a mortal man.

  It was supposed to be an engagement ring. That was why I withdrew several hundred dollars from the trust fund my aunt established before she succumbed to cancer. The money from my parents’ life insurance policies and the profits from selling my father’s farm were all meant to sustain me through medical school, but as my residency drew to a close, I came to the conclusion that the time was right to propose to my beloved Lydia. That was why I found myself at the jewelry store.

  I emerged with something other than a ring, however.

  On this side of my dance with immortality, I could not recall why I
had purchased the necklace for her. It became clearer, though, when visited by the dream; all at once a chill crossed this calloused heart, forcing me to relive the scene as though it had any relevance. I remembered a jeweler staring at me from across a counter, frowning at the indecisive man before him as I studied several rings and rejected them all.

  Finally, he had huffed and said, “Mr. Dawes, if you’re not sure about this, then it’s probably not the best time to propose to her, is it?”

  Looking up at him, I had furrowed my brow, glancing from his face to the counter and back again. I winced at my hesitation, yet allowed myself to peruse the rest of his wares until my eyes settled on it. Gilded and Gothic, it fit her personality better than the cut pieces of stone I had been studying anyway. “Well, I need to get something for her,” I had said to the crotchety old bastard. “It’s her birthday in a few days.”

  My eyes continued to admire the pendant, taking in all of its intricacies. Two hearts, one on top of the other, with a thorny rose draped across the two. It was something so intricate and yet, so macabre. At once, I knew Lydia was meant to have it. It was a perfect emblem for her.

  I recalled purchasing it. I recalled giving it to her. That was another memory causing me some degree of

  “Flynn?”

  Shaking myself from my thoughts, my eyes lifted to engage Anthony’s once more. He clutched his stomach, scowling. “Is this what you were looking for?”

  “Yes.” I nodded and thrust the necklace into my pocket. “You are a clever bastard, I shall give you that.”

  “Good. Then our agreement is intact?”

  “Oh yes. I shall ensure Sabrina does not touch a hair upon your head.”

  “Praise be to the Fates.” Anthony sighed, glancing at his blood-soaked hand. “I feared when we first met that she had ordered you to do me in. Believe me, Flynn, I’ll not be crossing your path again, except on accid”

  As he looked at me again, I reached underneath my coat and drew a knife. With a deft flick of my wrist, I whipped it toward Anthony, whose eyes became wide as the blade plunged deep into his chest.

  I grinned. “No, Anthony. Not even on accident.”

  What had once been Anthony burned into dust and descended onto the ground as ash and discarded clothing. My knife bounced off the pavement with a clank and came to settle next to his remains while a gust of wind carried his remnant into the nether. I strolled toward the blade, exhaling a breath I did not know I was holding, and paused to clean my weapon again before I slipped it into its sheath. My eyes remained set upon his ashes, though. “I said Sabrina would not. I did not guarantee the same for me.”

  With a quick adjustment of my coat and a moment stolen to run my fingers through my hair, I set out with my pearl of great price. As I headed back for my coven, though, I knew I had just played a dangerous game and could yet face wrath for the indulgence. Sabrina’s eyes extended through a network of spies who usually worked to my benefit. In this singular action, though, they became my bane. I had to do it, though; one memory hinted at other secrets lying in wait without telling me what existed behind the veil. All I knew was that I wanted to solve the riddle of who I was at long last.

  So, I lit another cigarette, and slipped into the shadows to seek a proper nourishment, hopeful this small measure of insubordination would not come back to haunt me later.

  Chapter Eleven

  The pendant felt as though it was burning a hole in my pocket as I returned to the coven house, bent on putting the whole sordid episode with Anthony behind me. I offered our new doorman a cursory nod, masking my discomfort at smuggling contraband through the front doors, and maintained my typical casual gait as I crossed the foyer.

  Wing-tipped shoes took the stairs two at a time while my mind remained fixated on Sabrina. My meeting with Anthony had marked the eve of my fifth immortal birthday, and the passing of the midnight hour brought with it memories of how my mistress enjoyed celebrating the anniversary of my awakening. I suppressed a shiver at the vision in my mind Sabrina lying on her bed, her body’s only adornment a cascade of flowing red hair shimmering in the candlelight. The thought of her hands exploring beneath my clothing troubled me, though, as it brought with it the possibility of the pendant’s discovery.

  Shaking my head, I continued upstairs. The hour grew late and I needed to rest.

  I passed my brethren without making eye contact, but caught glimpses of their facial expressions as I passed. The standard fare, it was what I had come to expect after years of debauchery. Cold stares. Distrust and a slight tinge of fear laden in the way they regarded me, knowing with what ease I could end each of them. The corner of my mouth curled upward. I finished my ascent, musing on the benefits of my station aside from a very small circle of friends.

  My accommodations, for instance. No longer slumbering in a neophyte’s closet, I sojourned in a spacious living area normally reserved for elder vampires. No, I had no need of Anthony’s reminder to realize how much jealousy flew about me and how many hands itched for the tools to my undoing. Not a one of them dared to cross Sabrina, though, because they all knew better than to attempt and fail. Others had tried; none had succeeded. It discouraged repeat performances.

  Still, as I approached the door to my room, the faint traces of perfume wafting near my door reminded me I yet held favored status with some. I paused to remove my leather gloves and slipped them into my pocket. My fledgling smile blossomed into a full grin. I did not love the woman, this much was certain, but her presence pleased me nonetheless.

  “Rose. Sweet Rose,” I said as I stepped inside and shut the door behind me, blocking out the artificial lighting in the hallway. Darkness wrapped itself around me, broken only by the soft glow of a sparse collection of candles. I breathed a sigh of relief. “Came for a visit?”

  The slender figure of a blonde-haired woman stood no more than ten feet away. Rose turned to face me, revealing a low-cut black dress hugging tight to her curves with her long hair spilling onto her breasts. She returned my grin with one of her own and closed the distance between us. “I haven’t seen you for a while, so I thought I would claim the elusive Flynn first.” Rose lifted her hands to slide my glasses from my face. “Happy birthday, darling.”

  “Thank you, my dear,” I said as I blinked a few times, adjusting my eyes to the dim light. Rose set my glasses onto a table while I strolled further into my room, removing my coat as I walked. “I had a few matters to attend to before I could return, but had hoped to be back sooner.”

  “As did I.” Rose slithered behind me, taking my coat from my grip and tossing it onto a chair before placing her hands on my shoulders. I felt her fingers run along my back and suppressed a soft groan. “You stayed out so close to dawn. Have you become suicidal or is it another brand of being fearless?”

  I laughed. “No, it was that twit Anthony from Matthew’s coven.” I let Rose slide my suit jacket from my torso and watched it join my coat on the chair. “I had to finish my business with that overinflated piece of refuse before I could sate my own needs for the night.”

  “So it is done, then?”

  Rose’s hands caressed the blades against my body and I closed my eyes in response, as though she was stroking more than steel with those long fingers. “Yes, it is done. Though there is no doubt in my mind Sabrina shall be upset with me. I had at him twice before completing the act.”

  “Living life dangerously? You will need a very convincing tale to escape Sabrina’s wrath.” One of her well-manicured nails taunted at a button.

  The corner of my mouth curled upward. “I will tell her I sought a trinket for you,” I said as I turned to face Rose. “Something as beautiful as you, thus giving him an impossible task.”

  Rose smiled. Past her parted lips, I saw her fangs lying in slumber. “And now, Flynn flatters me,” she said as she leaned close. Her voice descended to a whisper. “Tell me a story before you seduce me.”

  “What type of story?”

  “What did you
really ask Anthony to retrieve?”

  “This is a boring tale with a disappointing ending. He was unable to locate what I requested.”

  “Then tell me he thought he had a chance to escape.”

  I chuckled at her schoolgirl-like enthusiasm. “Oh, he did.” Reaching up with one hand, I brushed her hair away from her chest and allowed my gaze to drift southward. My fingertips ran along the edge of the fabric lying against her cleavage while my devilish gaze rose to intersect hers again. “I tore his garish clothing, and ran him through his gut while he bled like a stuck pig. Then I sank my blade into his chest and watched the wind carry him away.”

  She laughed. “Reduced to a pile of dust.”

  “Only ash and nothing more.”

  Her lips crashed into mine, our bodies pressing together despite the blades I yet wore. Rose pulled away from the kiss to whisper against my lips. “Tell me another story.” The words dripped with lust. “Who did you kill before Anthony?”

  Cupping the back of her head, I nipped at her bottom lip as I responded. “Demetrius, again of Matthew’s coven. One of his elders. The stupid bastard tried to ferret out information from Robin.”

  “Stupid bastard, indeed.” We kissed once more. “Tell me you made his death slow. Tell me you made him suffer.”

  “He suffered good and proper, Pet.” Stripping off my shoulder holster, I tossed my knives out of the way, and then took hold of Rose again. “I pinned him against the wall and rid him of the curse that was his head.”

  “Soon there will be nothing left of Matthew’s coven.”

  “Not when I am through with it.” Our mouths hovered dangerously close. “I shall kill them all, one by one. Their blood shall form a river of crimson underneath my feet and I shall laugh like a madman as they perish. How does that sound, Rose? Does this fantasy please you?”