PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Flynn!”

  “Yes! Coming, Robin!” Growling, I slipped the necklace under my shirt again and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I fought against a wave of dizziness while grabbing the sunglasses on my nightstand, and grumbled the entire way from the bed to the entryway. Opening the door, I leaned against the frame while adjusting the glasses on my face. “This had better be good, Robin,” I said. “I was asleep before you started pounding on my door.”

  Robin furrowed his brow, stealing a few interminable seconds to stare at me. “Flynn, where the devil have you been?” he asked. “We thought you were dead when you didn’t return last night.” He paused. I winced at the concerned look in his eyes. “Did something detain you? You said you would come find me after your business with Sabrina, but nobody saw you return.”

  I sighed. “Yes, brother. Apologies, I did get waylaid.” Standing straight, I moved aside and allowed Robin to enter. “I take it this is the next evening?”

  Robin walked toward the center of the room, studying his surroundings as though examining them for the first time. A strange premonition followed in his wake, something provoking a knit brow and a slight shiver up my spine. I closed the door while he spoke. “Yes.” The word came out sounding subdued. His eyes shifted back to me. “And far later in the night than you typically rise.”

  “What time?”

  “Eleven thirty, last I checked. Probably closer to midnight by now.”

  “Shit.” I sighed. “Half the night spent already.”

  “Yes, quite.” Robin looked me over, from head to feet and back again. “It’s strange to see you sleeping at this hour. Did you just return?”

  “I am not certain.” Walking past Robin, I headed for the sitting area, issuing the implied request for him to join me. My knees weak and mind still reeling, I fell into one of the black, leather chairs and raised my glasses to rub at my eyes. After they settled back onto my nose, I pushed them up to where they rested comfortably. “Truth be known, I do not know when I returned or how I got back here. Only that I am here now.”

  “Well, you had the lot of us worried when you failed to show up.” Robin remained standing, draping an arm across the back of an empty chair. “Sabrina went on a tear. She sent Timothy looking for you and ordered the rest of us to inform her of when you returned.”

  “Sabrina.” I groaned in response to her name. “What the fuck am I going to tell?”

  “Language, Fl”

  I shot Robin a look of extreme annoyance.

  Robin sighed. Sitting at last, he perched on the edge of his chair and folded his hands on his lap. “What happened? This sort of behavior isn’t like you.”

  Leaning against the back of my chair, I tilted my head to regard the ceiling. “I am telling you the honest truth, I have no idea what happened. This is something I am still trying to figure out myself.”

  A moment’s pause settled between us. I heard Robin shift in his chair. “Tell me what you remember.”

  I lowered my head to regard him once more. Thoughts of poisoned blood, unconsciousness, and captivity rose to the forefront of my mind, but before I could speak the words, a disquieting notion settled into my thoughts. How did I know I could trust Robin? Or anybody else, for that matter? My eyes widened behind my glasses, dread throttling to the surface of my psyche and whispering paranoia in my ear. “It . . . ” I attempted to relax. “ . . . is a blur. I ventured out to fulfill a duty for Sabrina and cannot recall the rest.”

  Robin frowned. “You’re lying to me.”

  I frowned in response. “Brother, it is the honest truth. I cannot trust what I recall about last night. I pursued a sorceress and she proved to be more than I bargained for.”

  “But you killed her?” Robin perked an eyebrow. “Right?”

  Glancing toward my bedroom, I thought of the scarf lying on my katana. A slow nod preceded my response. “Yes.” My gaze shifted back to Robin. “I bit her. Drained her and left her for dead. Her blood was tainted, though . . . It felt as though I had taken a hallucinogen and it left me in a weakened condition. I retreated into her home to sleep it off and must have yet been somewhat off kilter when I stumbled back here. It still has me dizzy, truthfully.”

  I studied him, looking for some hint that my story had come across more believable than it sounded. Robin nodded. “You should have run her through and sought to feed elsewhere. Witches cast spells against us.”

  “Well, nobody warned me of that.” A wan smile cut through some of the edge in my voice. “I thought I was killing two birds with one stone.”

  Robin sighed. “You are right. I never taught you about witches. I thought I had plenty of time for that.”

  “Plenty of time?”

  Robin waved his hand, brushing the words aside. “Simply not something neophyte vampires deal with on a regular basis. Even ones as prolific as you, Flynn.”

  I frowned, then nodded and looked away. “It was idiotic of me. And Sabrina shall be displeased. This is the second assignment in a row with an incident. One more and my days as an assassin shall be numbered.”

  “I think her greater fear is that the sorceress got to you somehow.”

  My eyes shot back to Robin. “Why would that be a concern?”

  Robin’s face took on a sober expression. “It’s not my place to explain that,” he said. “Better you bring it up to the mistress. She instructed the guards to beware, lest you start acting irrational, though, so be careful how you go about doing it.”

  I scoffed. “Acting irrational. That is foolishness.”

  He shook his head. “Not as foolish as you think. Even you must confess the notion of you acting irrational is enough to inspire legitimate fear.” A smirk curled the corner of his mouth.

  I sighed. Standing, I removed my suit jacket and walked toward my bedroom. “Well, then I shall settle her fears. I have something to give her anyway.” I tossed the jacket onto my bed as I approached. Plucking my shoulder holster from the nightstand caused me just a moment’s pause as I recalled I had been wearing this as well the evening prior. I shook my head and secured my weapons into place. The scarf found its way into a pocket and my suit jacket into my hands as I emerged into the sitting area. “Aside from being fearful over my mental faculties,” I said, sliding the fine linen over my arms once more, “Is the mistress in an ill mood?”

  Robin shook his head, his smile transforming into a halfhearted grin. “Otherwise, she is her same chipper self.”

  I chuckled. Giving one, final adjustment of my apparel, I glanced back at him. “Sarcasm does not become you, Robin. While I am thinking about it, though, did you finish the favor I asked of you?”

  “The rose?”

  I nodded.

  Robin stood and proceeded to glance around the room. “Yes, it was finished as you asked. I had business to attend to . . . ”

  ‘ . . . Conspiring is more like it, you aged Irishman . . . ’

  “ . . . so it wasn’t a problem whatsoever.”

  I blinked, studying Robin. While I heard the words clear as day, I failed to see Robin’s lips move. “I beg your pardon?” I asked. “What did you just say?”

  Robin’s eyes returned to mine. He furrowed his brow. “I said it wasn’t a problem, brother.”

  “No, no.” I flicked the words away with a brush of my hand. “I mean, after you said you had business.”

  He stared at me, an eyebrow rising. “That is all I said, Flynn. I had business to attend to and completing your task proved to be no hassle.” Robin closed the distance between us by one pace, and then stopped. His gaze turned searching. “Are you feeling alright?”

  “I am not entirely certain.” Narrowing my eyes, I studied Robin, seeing a lie placed before me without knowing how I could be so sure of it. I would have sworn on the altar of everything I held sacred, though. Those words had entered my mind with Robin’s voice speaking them. Conspiring? Such a brazen declaration and yet, Robin had no idea what I was talking about. My hand came up to
my head, my feet suddenly feeling unsteady. “I think I should lie down again.”

  Robin frowned. “See to Sabrina first, before she tears Philadelphia apart looking for you.”

  “Very well, I shall.” Glancing at Robin, I noticed as an afterthought how soft my tone of voice had become. He regarded me all the more with concern and as I motioned for the door, he walked with me, lingering a trifle closer than normal. Somehow, I got the sense he feared I might tip over at any moment. Truth be known, the prospect seemed all too possible a reality. Something told me I was only beginning to fathom what had truly happened.

  Together, we strolled out to the corridor. Robin paused to shut my door before resuming his place by my side. More than once, he asked if he should accompany me to Sabrina’s room, going as far as to offer to procure something to eat. I refused his assistance as politely as possible. Partially an effort to mask my own discomfort, it reflected how much like an alien in my own skin I felt by the time we reached the stairs. I had to bite my tongue to stop from snapping at his offers to help, but he read enough of my annoyance to bid me a good evening.

  I frowned while watching him descend the stairs toward the foyer. None of this was his fault, even if that unsettling air had coalesced around him while in my room and those taunting words had contained his voice. With a sigh, I lifted my head, shifting my focus to the second staircase leading upward. My stomach twisted into a knot and my hand touched the banister in a shaky manner. “The mistress waits,” I said, my voice a low murmur. It took no less than two minutes for me to raise my foot to the top of the first stair.

  My hand slid up the banister, my grip tightening on occasion whenever my feet became unsteady. The nervousness I harbored the night before could not hold a candle to the form of dread that settled on me with each stair I ascended. Agonizing, slow steps marked my progress to the fourth floor. I reached the top and wondered how pale I might have appeared as I stopped and stared at Sabrina’s door.

  Glancing at Paul, who was standing in his customary place, I noticed the same uncertainty present in his gaze Robin had possessed when he first looked me earlier. I shifted my eyes away at once, straightened my suit jacket, and strolled to the penthouse door. I suppose I thought pretending to be unaffected might soak through my pores and settle my inner spirit. Neither of us spoke to each other as Paul merely opened the door and left it ajar long enough for me to enter.

  I indulged in a steadying breath. My gait slowed, caution returning as darkness enveloped me. I swallowed hard and called out toward the bedroom, “Mistress?”

  Silence answered.

  Walking into Sabrina’s sitting area, I could not ignore the shudder running through my body, a far different sensation than I had ever experienced. My eyes glanced around the room, searching for any sign of my maker. “Sabrina?” I said. “Your assassin has returned. After a very harrowing night, I might add. Are you here?” As the last words escaped my mouth, I picked up on a presence without seeing it yet. The sound of light steps shuffling to the doorway reached my ears, but I did not turn around. Instead, I closed my eyes and watched a series of images play out in my mind.

  I saw Sabrina regarding me from where she stood, warring emotions playing out in her gaze. Her piercing stare sent a shiver up my back and her full lips were pressed together in a frown. One eyebrow perked, she slid her hand deliberately behind her back. I watched her long fingers wrap around the hilt of a dagger, sheathed and tucked into the waistband of her pants.

  My eyes shot open. I spun around to look at her as a surprised expression enveloped Sabrina’s face. Her body tensed and we stared at one another, her gaze registering fear while mine attempted to mask the hurt of betrayal. I forced an agreeable smile to emerge and bowed, preparing for the performance of my life. “Sweet Sabrina,” I said, “I understand I have caused you a great deal of concern. My most sincere apologies. I returned just as soon as I could.”

  Sabrina remained silent. I walked closer, weighing each step along the way while digging in my pocket for the piece of crimson silk. Once I reached Sabrina, I pulled it out, presenting it to her. “You requested a dead witch?”

  The reaction was instantaneous. A smile lit Sabrina’s face and her hand emerged from behind her back to snatch the scarf. “My darling Flynn, I feared she got the better of you,” she said. Her eyes traced the fabric, focusing especially on the bloodstains remaining on the thin material. “A silly notion, wasn’t it?”

  I grinned. “Now, Sabrina, this is me we are discussing. When have I failed to come through for you?”

  “Indeed.” Craning her neck, she placed a kiss on my lips. Where such an action would have normally been met with desire on my part, a foreign form of repulsion surfaced. Its poison seeped into my mind as I fought hard not to violently pull away.

  Unfortunately, Sabrina noticed.

  Her eyes opened as mine did. “What is it, Flynn?” she asked. “Do you no longer want your mistress?”

  Every profanity fashioned by man raced through my brain. “No, it is not that, Sabrina.” My head felt as though it might rend in two at any moment. The lingering taste of wickedness left me chilled to the marrow, revolted beyond my control. I could not allow her to know it, though. “I did not return last night because I had to recover. I . . . was foolish and bit the girl. Her blood was laced with some sort of hallucinogen. It wrought havoc on my mind and I still do not feel like myself.”

  A maternal smile tugged at Sabrina’s lips. “My child, you’re fortunate it didn’t kill you.” Her expression evened. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

  “None the worse for the wear, I hope.” My fingers ripped through my hair once more, my hand settling on the crown of my head. “I weathered a difficult night and only wished to sleep when I returned this evening. I came here because Robin visited. He said you were troubled.”

  Sabrina nodded. “I was, but am no longer. Rest, Flynn. I have no duties for you tonight.”

  “Thank you, Mistress.” Lowering my hand, I touched one of hers and brought it to my lips. A forced grin accompanied the gesture, although I hoped Sabrina could not tell. “Have no concerns for your assassin. I shall be right as rain in short order.”

  She continued to smile. I studied her eyes for a moment, not trusting how genuine the expression she managed was. Sabrina reeked of nervousness, her hand registering a slight tremor when I let go of it. I suppressed the urge to frown and turned, walking for the door.

  Her eyes never left me during the entire trek to the exit and it was not until I closed the door behind me that the sense of being a goldfish in a bowl dissipated. Even then, I could not help feeling I needed to get as far away from her as possible. Strolling away, I maintained my usual, nonchalant swagger and hurried down the stairs in much the same fashion, ignoring those I passed even when a few paused to stare at me along the way. I swallowed hard, shutting my eyes at one point and opening them only when I reached the ground floor.

  If I yet had a pulse, my heart would have been pounding.

  Somehow, I maintained my composure out the front doors, but once I emerged outside, I entered into a sprint, digging deep to use every measure of my vampire speed to get away from the coven house as swiftly as possible. The wind tossed my hair a million places and my suit jacket whipped behind me until I slowed and rounded a corner into a side street. My back hit the wall of one building, my eyes darting left and right to ensure I was alone. When I registered no other beings within proximity, I shut my eyes and indulged several shaky breaths while attempting to make sense of this all.

  The encounter with Robin was unsettling enough, but it paled in comparison to my meeting with Sabrina. I had been forced to look her in the eyes and play actor to a role which came so naturally before. The fact that I yet possessed my life was sheer luck, but my fortune would soon run out unless I figured out what the devil had happened to me.

  Had the girl cast a spell? I had no idea how the incantations of sorceresses worked. For all I knew, I might have b
een right when I assigned blame to biting the witch, her blood yet coursing through my veins, playing tricks with my mind. After all, I had not fed since that time and if my body was yet weakened, then the hexes she worked against me would no doubt be all the more effective. My eyes opened and I nodded. Yes, I needed to drown myself in blood. Then I would be fine again.

  Standing straight, I ran my fingers through my hair to restore order to the short, brown locks. As if confirming my theory, I felt the slightest tinge of hunger nip at me, giving me all the impetus I needed to walk back to the main thoroughfare and seek out my first victim. Something young and lively; a wicked grin emerged as I thought about teasing her before driving my teeth into her neck. The city was full of such creatures, after all, and the night was still young.

  Not more than an hour later, I found myself in the alley behind a nightclub, kissing a beautiful young woman while my hands ran across her curves. She threw her head back and laughed when I lowered my lips to nuzzle her neck, allowing my kisses to descend to her pulse point. “I normally don’t . . . do this sort of thing,” she whispered in a breathy manner, her body pressing against mine, her scent saturated with lust. “Moving so quickly. Do you?”

  I grinned in a wicked manner. “Dear, life is entirely too short to be bothered with formalities.” I licked her neck and suppressed a groan, bloodlust growing by leaps and bounds. It infected the core of my being until I could hold back no longer. Just as she began issuing a response, my fangs descended. No more than a few words made it past her lips before I drove my teeth into her neck, releasing a warm rush of crimson from the wound and into my mouth.

  At once, a strange sensation crowded out even the taste of her blood.

  Her name was Cecilia. She was a law student at Temple University. My eyes flew open as such details surfaced in my thoughts, my lips yet pursed around the wound and one hand cupped over her mouth to muffle her screams. I drew from the bite again, but doing so only made the deluge of facts and images all the more visceral. I saw graduation days and family, and heard the screams within her mind her vocal cords could not produce. She had never left the city. Never traveled; never been to Europe and now it was all going to . . .