PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  He nodded, albeit in a skeptical manner. “Alright. Either give it to me or tell me what it is, and I’ll make certain she is informed.”

  Her eyes flicked in my direction again. I stifled a groan. ‘Start to motion for the hallway,’ I said, utilizing my telepathy once more. ‘Let him stop you. Perhaps the other page might take notice and come.’ My hand settled on the hilt of one of my knives. I slid it from its sheath, preparing to toss it at the page and quickly intercept his compatriot should the need arise.

  Rose focused on the page again and strolled closer to him. “No. I insist I be the one to deliver it.”

  “Who is your mistress?”

  “Does it matter?” Rose lifted a hand, pointing in the direction of the meeting room. “I know she’s in there. Let me pass. I won’t be but a minute.”

  The page shifted, coming between Rose and the hallway. “I’m afraid that’s out of the question. The meeting has already begun.”

  Rose raised an eyebrow at him and shoved forward. The page muscled against her, providing enough resistance to knock her back a step. “You are not allowed back there, and that’s final. I’ll summon the other page and have him deliver the message.”

  “Why not you?” Rose asked, rolling her eyes.

  “Because now, I don’t trust you won’t try to slip past me.” The blond-haired page glanced back down the hallway, lifting a hand to snap his fingers and then motioning for his compatriot to wander over. Whatever silent communication transpired between the two of them must have been enough. The other darker-haired page appeared out of the hallway, glancing between his friend and Rose with a quizzical expression on his face. “What is it?” he asked, his eyes settling on his friend.

  “It’s this woman,” he began. I did not bother listening to the rest of what was spoken because I knew I had to move swiftly. I slipped from my hiding place and managed to attract Rose’s attention just as I raised the blade I held between my thumb and forefinger. She stepped backward and tripped, landing on her backside with an audible thump and provoking the blond-haired page to swing around and look behind him. I released the knife the moment our eyes met and produced my sword before the blade had even plunged into his chest. He turned to ash, as did his friend when I decapitated him.

  The remnant of both vampires fell on and around Rose. She squeaked with disgust and stood swiftly, brushing off her clothing as though the ash was corrosive. Opening her mouth to talk, she began to say, “I can’t believe you did ” before I closed the distance between us and poised the tip of the blade at her throat. Rose immediately stopped when she felt the sharp edge cut into her skin.

  “Speak again,” I whispered harshly, “And I shall ensure it is a long time before you say anything else.” My fangs slipped down once more, a menacing scowl enveloping my countenance. “Return to the coven. I have no use for you here any longer and do not wish to explain to Sabrina why I ran you through if you speak that loudly again.”

  My immortal sister swallowed hard, and then began pacing backward. My eyes remained set on her in a deliberate manner, until she opened the door and shut it softly behind her. Alone in the foyer, I knew I was still on borrowed time to eliminate the next being on a rapidly shortening list standing between my finest hour and me.

  I collected the knife I had thrown and clutched it in my hand. Stepping confidently down the carpeted hall, I gripped the hilt tight and paused at the corner, knowing the guard to be there and listening carefully to how close he was. A few, tense moments later, my patience was rewarded by a faint shuffle as the man shifted his weight, placing him mere steps away. I moved with deft swiftness, first around the corner, then behind him after dodging the awkward grab he made at me, and ending with my arm wrapped around his torso, pressing his back against my chest. Before he could regroup, I slit his throat and watched him flounder for speech, grinning broadly when he failed to produce sound. ‘It is called your vocal chords,’ I thought at him, caressing his neck with the bloodied dagger. ‘And this is telepathy. Tell me all your secrets. I have a meeting to crash.’

  Had he the ability to create more than a gurgle and a squeak, he might have alerted the others to what was taking place. Instead, he wriggled against me while I held him firmly in place and entered his thoughts with little care as to how violently I did so. I saw Matthew at the end of the table, closest to the doors directly behind me, with Sabrina seated opposite from him. A host of other faces I did not recognize or had only seen in passing filled in the bulk of the other seats. Matthew’s second, Eunice, was stationed beside him and Robin sat beside Sabrina as though he belonged there.

  ‘Excellent. That shall do.’ Pushing the guard away from me, I spun him around and thrust the dagger into his chest. He furrowed his brow at me before disintegrating into ash and crumpling onto the floor with the rest of his possessions. I slid the blade back into its sheath and strolled closer to a set of double doors separating me from the group of people I had seen in the guard’s thoughts.

  While the doors latched from the inside, their handles provided a wide birth and a quick glance around the immediate area inspired an immediate solution to my need. I grinned and walked toward an ornate floor lamp, proceeding to unplug it from the wall and remove the shade. The length of it slid nicely between the handles and secured the meeting room’s main point of escape. I suppressed a chuckle while examining my handiwork. They would be trapped, with one exit remaining for Sabrina.

  Indulging in a deep, steadying breath, I glanced toward the corridor again and nodded to myself. With that, I headed for the back, my nerves steady and my conscience still as absent as it had been since losing Lydia’s necklace. The preliminary tasks had been finished.

  One more round remained before my mission would be complete.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lithe steps carried me to the side entrance, my hand poised atop the hilt of my katana as I prepared to slay another of Matthew’s guards. As such, when I peered around the corner and caught sight of Timothy standing alone, it took me aback. I stepped more confidently toward him when he turned his head to regard me. “Did Matthew leave this entrance unsecured?” I whispered.

  “One guard. I took care of him,” he said. A snide grin surfaced on his face. “Did Flynn think he was the only one capable of killing vampires?”

  “Not the only, merely the best.”

  “So you think.” Timothy scoffed. “And what of the guards at the other door?”

  Directing my attention to the barrier separating me from the events to come, I answered in a sharp hiss. “I am an assassin, Timothy. I know how to do my job, thank you very much.” I paced closer and raised my hand to touch the wood. Inside, voices already spoke in raised tones, although I could tell the true festivities had yet to commence.

  Timothy glanced around and furrowed his brow. “Where is Rose?”

  “How the bloody hell should I know?” My eyes found his and a scowl formed. “Could you please be quiet and allow me to concentrate?”

  Timothy nodded, saying nothing further. With that, I turned my focus back to the meeting room and closed my eyes, using my ears to form a mental image of what was transpiring.

  ***

  Inside my mind’s eye, I saw Sabrina settle back into her chair, her crimson lips spreading in a grin as she folded her hands on her lap. “Some concerns, dear Matthew?” she asked, a feigned hint of surprise latent in her voice. “By all means, please list these concerns for me.”

  “Sabrina, I know you are one of the oldest on this council,” said the stately looking Matthew, with hair so dark, it could have transcended black. I recalled his pallor being a perpetual state of near white, as though he only fed when absolutely necessary and at no other time. I saw his brown eyes blazing intense at my maker while he spoke. “We are peers in age and as such, I will treat you as my equal and not insult your intelligence. Since forming your coven, you have been nothing but trouble, but in recent years you have utilized the services of an assassin.” The room
fell silent. Matthew’s tone of voice became all the more vitriolic. “In this, you have crossed the line. Now, you must be dealt with for your insubordination.”

  “Insubordination?” Sabrina laughed. “I am nobody’s subordinate.”

  “You are subordinate to the collective will of the seven covens, Sabrina, and to me as the recognized leader of this area. Before you arrived, we lived in peace and cooperated freely to maintain the interests of our kind.”

  “And done nothing to further these interests, I might add,” she said sardonically.

  “Even you know this is a delicate balance.” Matthew sighed in an exasperated manner. “Vampire kind and human kind. They have their champions and yet, you would risk the Supernatural Order dismantling us all. For what? So you can prove to the rest of us how superior you are?” I heard him fall into his chair and listened to silence until he gathered himself and spoke again. “You jeopardize our very existence. For four years, we have told you to rein in your neophyte, and you answered by having him decimate our ranks.”

  Sabrina chuckled. “And this is where you are wrong, dear Matthew. Flynn has been my protector. Those he has killed have been your agents seeking to undermine me. You would have seen me dead before I even turned him. Should I take such a threat lying down?”

  “You’ve had him kill without any provocation! Many times, out of sheer paranoia. If there are others who wished you ill, you should have summoned the council and presented your concerns to us.”

  “And how would you have handled it?” Sabrina paused. I imagined her glancing across the faces of each person gathered. “All of you have meant me ill. All of you! Anybody I would have presented to the council as a threat would have been slapped on the wrist. By now, I would have been ashes!”

  “Because you are a threat to our safety and anonymity,” said another elder, whose voice I recognized belonging to John-Mark. The second-in-command of a coven in Southern New Jersey, he would have been seated beside his maker, Emily, and resembled a mortal in his mid-forties. “Your complete lack of regard for common decency leads to blood baths. We are only trying to preserve our very existence, yet you accuse us of being spineless man-servants.”

  “I merely call it as I see it.”

  “You call nothing, Sabrina. That your coven was ever allowed in the council was a grave mistake.”

  “John-Mark, please. Let us hold our composure,” Matthew said, interjecting. “We will handle this with the dignity of vampires and not lower ourselves to bickering and insults. Besides . . . ” Matthew trailed off and a quick glimpse into his thoughts revealed where his gaze settled. My hand tightened around the hilt of my sword. Robin. “Her coven isn’t a complete loss.”

  I heard a chair slide out and imagined Robin standing before the rest of the vampires gathered. “Gentlemen,” he said, projecting his voice across the room. “I acknowledge and understand your concerns. As such, I wanted to formally separate myself from the rule and oversight of Sabrina. As an elder, I have that right, and as a distinguished vampire of this region, I refuse to condone the actions of my maker.”

  “Treasonous bastard,” Sabrina spat. I felt the unbridled anger she had been holding back finally direct itself toward my older brother. “You would have seen my demise not soon after your awakening, you ingrate.”

  “I think we both know that isn’t true.” Robin paused. “I returned to your side when I didn’t have to, why? Merely out of duty? No. You gave me immortality and I have been grateful for this even when you have been nothing but condescending toward me. I did not fight nearly hard enough when you sought to turn my brother, and while I have treasured his friendship, you and I both know The Fates are not done with you.”

  “What do you mean, The Fates aren’t done with her?” Bruce, another coven master, called out from close to where Matthew sat.

  “A very good question,” I said, opening the door at last and making my entrance. A gust of air opened my coat enough to flash the hilt of my sword, with the other blade strapped to my back being more than enough of a warning I entered this discussion armed. I strolled toward the center of the room and stopped, turning to engage each set of eyes fixed upon me. I grinned, and then looked toward the brown-haired vampire who spoke last. “Master Bruce, it is a pleasure to meet you.” I bowed. “I am afraid my duties do not bring me close to your coven in Delaware. Otherwise, we might be better acquainted.”

  “Brother, what brings you here?” Robin asked, his voice subdued.

  I turned to face him. “How could I stay away? After all, this all centers around me, does it not? The assassin. The neophyte Sabrina has failed to rein in.” My eyes found Matthew in acknowledgment of his words. “The bloodthirsty murderer who threatens the safety of the seven covens. I felt I should be here to help our case, dear brother.”

  Matthew shifted in his seat. “Please explain.”

  “Gladly.” I looked away, nodding at the group as a whole. Alarm resonated through each of their thoughts, which only made this all the more satisfying. It was all I could do not to laugh. “I, who was once Peter Dawes, was born for a task I had not yet realized upon becoming a vampire. In changing the course of my destiny, Sabrina fashioned an immortal seer. Not to protect the covens, though. To protect herself.”

  A collective gasp echoed throughout the room. I nodded. “Indeed, ladies and gentleman. I was never meant to be a vampire and yet, Sabrina knew. Before her fangs plunged into my neck, she realized the type of being I was to become and turned me to use my power as hers.” I turned to face Matthew again, staring to pace toward him. “That is what this is about, after all. Power. Who holds the highest hand of cards and can use them to further their interests. What would ensure power more than having a seer trained to be an assassin?”

  Matthew looked at Sabrina, raising an eyebrow. As he addressed her, I slipped around the table, headed in his direction again. “Is this true?”

  Sabrina shrugged. “Isn’t it time the mortals granted us a bit of favor?”

  “Alas, I have been but a pawn in this play,” I said, drawing the attention away from my mistress, “When I have simply wished to end the power struggle between the covens once and for all.” As I stepped behind Matthew, my gaze met Robin’s and my older brother regarded me with a hint of fear in his eyes. They widened when my hand closed around the hilt of my katana. “You see, I desire peace as well, Master Matthew. Only, I have other methods of ensuring it.”

  Robin extended his hand toward me, as though he possessed the ability to cease my actions. But before he could in even a single word, I slid my sword from its sheath and impaled Matthew through the chest, catching the elder vampire completely unaware. My fangs descended as Matthew turned to dust before the eyes of his compatriots, my gaze still fixed on my traitorous brother. “Peace shall come when I stand with Sabrina as the second most feared vampire in this city.”

  My actions sprung the others into a flurry of panic. Sabrina stood, unimpeded, as the back door flew open, and clutched Timothy’s hand when he ran in to fetch her. Together, they flew from the room while the other elders belatedly came to their feet. Sliding my katana back into its sheath, I took hold of two knives just as two of my would-be victims raced for the only open exit. Each knife met their target, who became dust within moments.

  The door slammed shut. The lock engaged with an audible finality, leaving me as trapped as the rest. I glanced to the side, reaching behind my back for the shorter sword secured there as a crowd of three bodyguards came at me while their masters attended to the doors. I impaled one, and then spun around to decapitate another. The third had produced his own sword, but lost it as I slashed through his arm before he could mount a proper defense. Kicking the weapon up into my hand and ignoring the ashes dusting its hilt, I used both blades to slice off his head. My attention turned to the rest.

  “Flynn! Don’t do this!”

  The voice calling through the haze of murder did nothing to deter me. I ignored Robin, grinning devilishly at th
e elders as they struggled to break through the doors after discovering both exits well secured. Spinning both swords in my hands, I sent the sharpened steal of one plunging into the first elder I encountered. I sliced through the neck of another with my shorter blade and kicked one backward who attempted a charge for me. A set of greedy fingers clawed for my borrowed sword and managed it from my hand as I assessed my attackers. I turned swiftly. My remaining sword slid through his chest and his ashes fell to the ground, along with the blade he had taken.

  I had no time to fetch it before the trapped vampires descended upon me.

  Abandoning their doomed attempt to leave, the vampire elders bared their fangs, an obvious mask for their fear and one that hardly intimidated me. Producing my final knife, I poised it in the palm of my hand as they formed a circle around me. My movements were fluid and unerring. I threw the dagger at the chest of a vampiress, simultaneously swinging my sword and claiming another head in the process. I pierced the heart of one and severed another’s spinal column. Body after body fell to the ground as ash, until finally there was only one in my line of sight. I threw my short sword as he attempted to retreat and watched him disappear just as the rest had.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood aloft. Wrapping a hand around the hilt of my katana, I drew it and spun around just as I became aware of the threat from behind.

  Metal impacted metal. Robin stood behind me, holding a bodyguard’s discarded sword and presenting himself as my final opponent. I grinned. “Well, if this is not a familiar posture. A bit of nostalgia for the evening?” I asked amiably.

  “How could you fall for her treachery, brother?” he asked, his sharp teeth fully exposed and his face contorted with rage, underscored by disappointment. Despite the obvious emotion saturating his expression, Robin held his sword steady and threw a trained blow at me. “I thought you were cured of her control.”

  Our swords impacted. “Well, you know what they say. In order to be cured, one must first see their condition as being a problem.” Both blades crossed and pressed together as our bodies came in closer proximity. I stared Robin down. “And I rather like myself this way. You do not approve?”