PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “What is your advice?”

  “Leave. Take your things, including some of your best weapons and get as far away from here as possible. Only, be merciful to me if we ever meet with you as the slayer.”

  I scoffed. “I refuse to be a vampire hunter, if this is what you claim my calling is. I only wish to be able to live as I once lived.”

  “None of us have that option any longer, especially not you. These gifts choose you, not the other way around. If your mortal conscience is truly coming to life once more, fulfill your destiny and stop tempting The Fates.” He paused. A solemn smile managed its way onto his face. “Please, brother. Get away from Sabrina before she gets to you. It was wrong that you were turned in the first place, but this can’t be undone. I’d sooner see you realize your human purpose than watch you continue to be Sabrina’s puppet.”

  Nodding, I frowned. “What was it you once told me? I was a mistake?”

  Robin’s smile faded, lips arching downward into a frown. “I’m sorry I was so harsh with you that night. I would like to think nothing in this world is a mistake, but knowing what I know about the natural order . . . ”

  I held up my hand to stop him. “Apologies are not necessary, brother.” My hand lowered. I shook my head. “Robin, I cannot do what you say. I do not wish to assume any predetermined human purpose and I do not wish to leave. If I have any purpose left, it is here ”

  “To subdue the enemies of Sabrina and allow her to rise to further glory in this city.” Robin paused, tipping his hands such that his palms pointed upward. “And now, you will know all her enemies.”

  Unable to speak at first, I simply stared at him, the memory of those words I heard echo in my mind several weeks ago replaying. My hands found the back of my chair, yet my eyes remained fixed on my brother. “You are conspiring against her. This is why you were caught with Demetrius.”

  “Your words are correct.” His gaze turned defiant without issuing any condemnation at the same time. “The other covens have spent months devising some way to end Sabrina and I haven’t stopped them because I can’t condone her actions any longer. I’ve lived a century, brother. I’ve seen both the best and the worst in vampire kind and this is nothing like what I imagined when I agreed to be second to a coven. I’ve lived with other nests and reveled in my nature with other immortals. Sabrina wants more. She would turn us into indulgent animals, from the higher mark of the food chain into sadists. We are wicked. I don’t gloss over what we are in any way, shape, or form. There is an evil we cannot tolerate, though. Sabrina’s quest for power has her blind and drunk.”

  We continued regarding each other, not speaking for what seemed like an eternity. I neither read his thoughts, nor offered him my own. Instead, I allowed my words to encapsulate my sentiments, the moment I summoned the will to issue them. “Robin, I cannot leave if this is to happen.”

  Robin’s expression turned pained. “Flynn, please. By The Fates above, stop protecting that which your conscience is warning you against.”

  “Sabrina is not the reason why I cannot leave.” I raised an eyebrow.

  Robin blinked. “I do not understand.”

  Nodding, I lifted my hands from my chair, slipping them into my pants pockets. “I will continue my ruse as long as possible and conceal my eyes from her, until your deed is finished and my service to her ends. I do not know about human destinies or how I could fill such a role in my current state. If what you say is true, though, then Sabrina shall indeed become an insufferable evil if allowed to continue on her present course.” I paused, feeling my stomach sink. “Especially if she finds out about me.”

  Robin opened his mouth to speak, but I interrupted by adding, “Only do it quickly. I do not know how long I can continue this charade.”

  He nodded slowly. “It will be done as you say.”

  “Very well.” Lifting one hand to rub my eyes, I plodded around to my chair and sat once more. “You have extended a great service to me by telling me what you know, which is far more than I can say for any other player in this nonsense. So, I shall try my best to extend the same service to you.”

  “Thank you, dear brother.” Robin glanced toward my door, and then looked back at me. “I will leave you to rest now. I’m sure your mind could use the reprieve.”

  “Thank you,” was all I could say in return. Robin motioned as though to add something further to the conversation, but seemed to reconsider and merely nodded before saying good night. Once I heard my door shut, I sighed and sank deeper into my chair. Silence wrapped around me, but did nothing to settle my nerves.

  Several times that night, my fingers reached to stroke the pendant around my neck while I sat alone in darkness. ‘Damn necklace,’ I thought. ‘Lydia, I have no idea why you chose this to be my anchor in the midst of a storm, but for the first time since this whole debacle started, I must thank you for it.’ Without pausing to add anything further to my expression of gratitude, I allowed my mind to go blank until it was time for me to settle into slumber for the morning.

  Still, I had been left in quite a perilous position, to be forced to play the role of assassin and servant while becoming a participant in this conspiracy against Sabrina. My final thought before drifting to sleep caused my stomach to sink again. Knowing how cunning my mistress could be, I had no idea how I was going to pull off such a deception.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I remember the way Lydia’s face lit up when she opened the box and pulled out the gold chain. “Peter,” she said, her smile widening as she looked up at me. “It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  “I knew you’d like it,” I said, grinning back at her. Not for the first time that night, I found myself lost in her green eyes, beholding them as beacons set to enchant me beyond my inhibitions. “There’s something about it that screams ‘macabre yet beautiful girlfriend.’ Must be why I was drawn to it.”

  She laughed, and then looked down at the pendant again. I recall the way she studied it, a mixture of adoration and curiosity present on her face as my girlfriend of two years regarded the trinket, lost deep in thought. “It’s beautiful, but almost kind of sad. I see what you mean.” When her eyes met mine once more, I saw melancholy present in her gaze. Such a look was standard fare for her. As quickly as she smiled, it seemed she frowned that much faster, as though something within Lydia prevented her from latching onto happiness for long. Sometimes, I wondered if she feared her joy would cause the world to tip from its axis.

  I ignored it and took the chain in my hands, moving to drape it around her neck. As the clasp locked into place, I heard her sigh and perked an eyebrow. “You’re not going to tell me, but I’m going to ask anyway. What’s wrong, Lydia?”

  Leaning down, I gently kissed at her neck. She turned to face me, her eyes closed at first and then opening slowly as her hand rose to touch the side of my face. “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you, too,” I said in return, but I could not help but to be put off by her brooding. The conversation with the jeweler surfaced in my thoughts, as did a reminder of my hesitation to buy her an engagement ring. I had planned on it, being so close to the end of my residency, and yet the notion could not be brought to fruition. It was not a lack of money; my trust fund what was left of it after tuition expenses, that is afforded me more than enough resources. Perhaps I was afraid to be happy myself. Or, perhaps it had to do with the strange premonition that had set up shop those days.

  I knew one day I would lose her. As pessimistic as the thought was, it still existed and, I felt, not without good reason. Over the course of those final months, Lydia had become more and more distant. I blamed my busy schedule; too many shifts at the hospital, trying too hard to be too many things at once.

  “I make you sad,” I said after a long pause. “Why?”

  Lydia shook her head. “It’s not you, Peter. It’s me. I . . . ,” she trailed off.

  I forced her attention back to me when she glanced away. “You what?”

  Sh
e sighed. “I haven’t been looking forward to my twenty-fifth birthday.”

  I smiled, in an effort to coax a smile out from her. “I’m three years past it and can promise you nothing happens. You just get another year older.”

  My effort failed. “And another year closer to death.” Lydia frowned. Her eyes drifted away again and this time, I did not force them to return. “What if this is the last one?”

  “You haven’t been reading some book or listening to a lunatic tell you you’re going to die at the age of twenty-five, have you?”

  “You don’t believe in the supernatural. It’s hard for you to understand.”

  My breath passed through my lips in an exasperated sigh. “Just because I don’t acknowledge it doesn’t mean I don’t know how it affects you.”

  “You really don’t.” Lydia moved away from me and walked toward the kitchen. “Peter, one of these days it’s going to crash into you like a freight train and then, you’ll understand. Until that happens, it’s hard for you to know where I’m coming from.”

  “I just don’t understand how you let these things get under your skin,” I said, following after her. “Nobody knows the future and all this bullshit people try to pass off as being mystical amounts to a lot of parlor tricks from a bunch of swindlers. I don’t see real psychics walking around giving credible advice to anyone, do you?”

  I paused in the doorway to the kitchen as Lydia’s steps slowed to a stop and her gaze fell to the ground. “There are things you don’t see yet. The world has a whole other side to it.” She looked up at me again. “It sees you, Peter.”

  A laugh preceded the condescending tone of my words. “What is that supposed to mean? You think one day I’m going to open my eyes and embrace a fictional world? Maybe when I’m senile or . . . ” I pointed at the necklace. “ . . . when that pendant becomes a magical talisman.”

  Her fingers rose to touch the pendant while her frown deepened. I could see tears welling in her eyes and felt my shoulders slump at her reaction. This time, I had gone too far. “Lydia,” I said, speaking softly. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t right of me. I just don’t like seeing you get so upset.”

  “Peter,” she said, her voice developing an edge to it. “The only thing worse than being blind is having sight, but no vision.” Her eyes shut. A single tear ran down Lydia’s cheek while the words of her favorite quote lingered in the air between us. I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off by continuing. “I wish I could believe for you and be there to protect you, but somehow I know it’s all going to come too late for me.” She raised her hand to her face, brushing away the moisture on her cheek. “Damn it.”

  I walked into the kitchen and wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close to my chest. It was not the first time I forced myself to be patient with her superstition and I knew it would not be the last. “If I need help,” I said, stroking her hair in a reassuring manner. “Then I know you’ll be clever enough to figure out a way. I have faith in you.”

  “I’m so afraid, Peter.” Lydia buried her face into my chest, her arms wrapping tight around me. “Someone’s going to hurt me and I don’t have any idea who. I only know it’s going to happen soon.”

  “If anybody ever tried to raise a hand to you, I’d protect you.” Looking down at her, I touched her chin and raised her head so her eyes met mine. A reassuring grin surfaced on my face. “You have nothing to worry about.”

  Her eyes carried a measure of skepticism, but she nodded anyway and rested her head against my chest again. If she doubted me at all, she had every right to, for three months later I would be the one to do her the ultimate injury. No more than ten feet away from us was a block of butcher knives. My hand would be the one to plunge the blade and it would cut through her heart in the most literal way possible.

  Lydia Davies would be no more.

  ***

  The days passed, leaving me in the unfamiliar position of being a conflicted vampire. I was an assassin, after all. My hands had snuffed out life so often, my actions had nearly become mechanical. Precise and unmerciful. Lacking in compassion and utterly detached. What Robin had said about the monster I became could be proven time and time again. After our talk, however, it became a bitter pill to swallow, leading me to long periods immersed in introspection. If the Fates had let me keep my reflection, I might have become lost in the emerald green of my irises until tempted to gouge them out.

  I had been tasked with a commission, however, and to hesitate would have only meant my death. Thus, I continued to meet with Sabrina, glad that the demand for my services had hit enough of a lull so as not to require nightly visits. Even still, I knew my behavior had taken a turn for the suspicious and held my breath, waiting for my actions to finally garner her notice.

  For one, I avoided Timothy and our usual biting exchanges. Secondly, I kept my sunglasses on at all times, including when I met my Mistress in her penthouse. I smiled at all the right times and sneered when I was expected to, but too often, her seduction fell short of its mark. Her lips were acid and her body made mine want to slink away in revulsion. Fortunately for me, her advances never transgressed into the realm of skin on skin.

  Not to say the talisman, or my new abilities, hindered my feeding habits. I still hunted, and still feasted from their innermost secrets while consuming their life’s blood. Continuing to utilize my telepathy while out on the prowl, I pretended to know them, or care about them in some manner in order to make bloody work of them. Each of them were still hypocrites to me; the doctor I once was the worst transgressor of the lot. And my disdain only grew the more I learned about the skeletons in their closets.

  The businessman who cheated on his wife.

  The woman who seduced men for their money.

  The fraternity brothers who raped a young woman.

  I found myself wishing somebody would remove the curse that was humanity, regardless of whether or not that would mean my starvation.

  Ordinarily, this would be the point when Monica would scold my double standards and delight in pointing out my care for their injustices proved my own conscience was not dead, but she remained absent. Several nights passed without one hint of the impish witch, adding itself to an already-growing list of absurdities. My previous attempts to rid myself of Miss Alexander had yielded no results and now she was gone through no action of mine. Still, I had more than enough practical matters with which to be concerned.

  For how much of a mask I had to present to the others in the coven, though, Robin had to be that much more polished. Before I was even a glimmer in my mother’s eye, Robin had been a trusted aide to Sabrina. Now that his thoughts had turned against her, he moved with all the cunning of Cassius through the courts of Caesar. We spoke to one another, much the same as always, replete with smiles and laughs for those who might be watching. He and I resembled the perfect models of our former lives. Late into the night, however, we would meet upon the streets of Philadelphia and engage in conspiratorial discussions. Such as the one we found ourselves embroiled in as late February found its way onto our doorstep.

  “I cannot be the one to pull the knife, Robin,” I said to him as my gaze lifted toward the night sky. I drew from my cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke. “The one to do it must have a clear mind, not easily swayed by her wiles. I cannot vouch for my mental faculties right now.”

  “Cannot?” Robin scoffed, slipping his hands into his pockets. “You’ve successfully eluded her suspicions for over two weeks, brother. If anyone is mentally steady enough for this task, it would be you.”

  “I have far too many weaknesses presently. I am merely fortunate she has not discovered them.”

  “Such as your eyes? The pendant?”

  “Amongst other things, yes.”

  Robin raised an eyebrow. “What else?”

  I sighed. “Robin, my thoughts have been unsteady, even the ones which have nothing to do with Sabrina. I wrestle with my own demons too much to execute this plan with any clarity.”r />
  Robin paused, his eyes set upon me with a searching gaze. “You don’t want to be the one to do it. After all this, the assassin still harbors some devotion to his mistress.”

  Drawing from the cigarette again, I frowned and flicked the depleted remnant away. My eyes drifted downward while I exhaled smoke out my nostrils. “Part of me is still enamored by her, yes. I am very aware there is a barrier preventing me from being taken in by her charms, but I can still feel the other side of the wall. If she cracks through my defenses, I will not be able to carry out my mission.”

  “We have found the one creature Flynn cannot kill.”

  The verbal slap shot my gaze back to Robin. I sneered, tempted to speak through gritted teeth. “Robin, you wish your coup and I am giving it to you, even though I could pull a knife and drive it into your heart this instant. This is as far as my aid to you can extend.” Forced to look away, I felt my gaze become distant as the whisper of a notion drifted past my lips. “I fear evil, but I do not hate it as much as I should.”

  “I would believe that, dear brother.” Robin sighed. My gaze returned in time to see him eye me as the stray sheep in the flock. “You are still of warring minds. One of these days, one of the two sides will have at the other and claim victory.”

  “I wish they would hurry it the fuck up and decide. This middle-of-the-road bullshit is taxing.”

  Robin chuckled and I could not help but to smirk in response. My disposition sobered once again as I reached into my pocket for my cigarettes and tapped another into my hand. “So, tell me how you and your co-conspirators have this planned out, Robin,” I said, lighting the end. A puff of smoke preceded the remainder of my words. “I wish to know how the amateurs do it.”

  “You would mock your teacher, Flynn?” Robin grinned. “I’ll have you know I can still handle the sword just as well as I did when we last sparred.”