PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Hardly.” He grinned. “Not one human has been touched.”

  “Yes, this much is certain.” I took step toward Mathias and then stopped, appearing nonchalant in the gesture. “I was attacked, though, and I take that quite personally.”

  “Surely you can allow for self-defense.”

  “Perhaps.” I touched the corner of my mouth with one hand while the other drifted slowly behind my back. Fingering the scalpel, I nodded. “I did manage to singlehandedly decimate most of your gang. Do tell me, however . . . What would I receive in return for allowing you to walk away, besides your pledge not to return?”

  “My word that nobody will know we’ve seen each other.” Mathias nodded. “If it is your business to protect the mortals now, I won’t take exception to that. And I won’t inform the others I know you’re still alive.”

  Nodding, I feigned looking impressed. “Well, this certainly is a compelling offer.” A notion tickled my mind from somewhere outside of me. Monica. I heard her ask what the hell I thought I was doing and could only smirk. Ignoring her, I shrugged and paced forward a few additional steps. “It would please me not to have to murder three additional souls this evening. Heaven only knows I have had my fill of this.” I flashed my most disarming grin. “You have a deal.”

  He stepped forward. Extending a hand, he seemed pleased with himself.

  That was until I produced my last scalpel and plunged it into his chest. The look of happiness on his face transformed into shock within seconds. I shrugged. “On second thought, perhaps you should just die.”

  Mathias failed to produce a sound before his ashes descended to the floor. I wasted no time in throwing the scalpel at the second-to-last vampire and watched him disintegrate as well. This left just one.

  The remaining foe gazed at me, wide-eyed. He turned and ran for the doors, but for how quickly he moved, I was much faster. I dashed for the knife, plucked it from the ground, and flicked it for the scoundrel’s back all in one seamless sequence. By the time I ceased moving, it was over.

  My final adversary fell to the ground as ashes. I grinned, satisfied, and then cast a quick glance around as I dusted off my suit jacket. The eye of each mortal fell on me with a mixture of awe and apprehension, none of them seeming to know if they should thank me or fear me. I caught sight of Chloe in my periphery and turned my attention to her, offering her a wan smile. “Sometimes the questions are not worth the answers, are they?” I asked.

  She failed to respond. I merely nodded and turned toward the door. Monica jogged up to me, pausing to pick her knife up from the ground and return it into its sheath before joining me outside. We walked toward one of the side streets and turned down it without one word exchanged between us. I waited until we were into the shadows, before stopping and leaning against a building, my eyes shutting.

  Monica walked up to me, but remained quiet. I spoke first. “For a few minutes, I almost recalled what it was like to be human” I opened my eyes to regard the night sky. “I felt such a wave of nostalgia from being there. Almost as though I was Peter once more.”

  “I’m sure.” She smiled. “You wanted to rediscover the part of your life that wasn’t darkness, so that’s why I brought you here.” When Monica’s grin faltered, I raised an eyebrow. She sighed. “Well, alright, I brought you here for other reasons, too, but I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now.”

  I nodded, studying her. “You knew they would be there, did you not?”

  The corner of her mouth curled upward in a coy manner. “Precognition. I don’t get it all the time, but it has its moments.” Her eyes gravitated toward mine. She raised an eyebrow. “I bet you think that last bit was the assassin and not the seer, though. Don’t you, Peter?”

  “I suppose you are going to tell me I am wrong if I confess this.”

  Monica nodded. “Being a seer isn’t about having a few parlor tricks and seeing into the unknown. Those are all tools to help you protect other people. Part of that is searching into their thoughts or reading their intentions, but the other part is standing up and fighting when you must. That’s the other lesson I brought you here to learn.” Reaching out, she patted my shoulder. “Trust me, Peter, even your past self would have stepped up to protect those people. He might have died trying, but he would have done it.”

  I sighed and nodded. “I suppose you are correct.” Glancing at the building behind me, I cocked my thumb toward it and grinned at Monica. “I do not believe I shall be welcomed in there again, though.”

  Monica smirked and tugged at my arm, directing me back onto the path toward her house. As we walked, I could not help but to acknowledge her point. My former self assuredly would have leaped into the thick of things, even if it had meant his death. Still, another pressing concern made its way past even my existential ruminations; the notion that the area vampires were forming into marauding bands and rogues were wandering about forging covens. I knew I needed to deal with this problem swiftly, before disorder led to abject chaos.

  The vampire Flynn and the seer Peter yet stood at odds, but there was no time for them to make further amends. Reining in the city’s vampires was not something that could wait.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  My fingers coasted across the red and black hilt of my katana, my eyes following the braided, silk wrapping as I caressed it in a ginger manner and recalled the reason I was drawn toward it. When Robin named me Flynn, he had bestowed a metaphor upon my shoulders a title with the word red within its very definition. As such, to see my color intertwined with black seemed a fitting homage. Death marked my footsteps and hung upon my shoulders as a coat. In a mere five years, I became the devil.

  I had to wonder if it was wrong for me to still possess the sword.

  I spilled innocent blood to procure it and scoffed at the corpse of its maker. The vampire within held no remorse, yet seeing such a piece of art laid out on my bed stoked the embers of conscience, reminding me the funeral pyre of my humanity had not yet been extinguished. Still, it symbolized how at odds I had become with myself. The sword was a vestige of the vampire, but fate had summoned me to be a guardian of mortals.

  “Sometimes, irony royally pisses me off,” I murmured to myself.

  Standing, I lifted the weapon and slid the blade from its sheath. I admired the gleaming steel before swiping the air a few times and spinning the sword around with a turn of my wrist. Pivoting on my heel, I raised the katana and challenged an invisible foe, holding my position as I stared down my adversary. I attempted to imagine who he might be. Timothy? A quick, upward swipe would decapitate him. Rose? Thrusting the blade forward would impale her through the chest. Paul? The bodyguard had never intimidated me. I would run him through before he could as much as blink.

  Sabrina?

  Indulging in a deep breath, I relaxed my position as I exhaled. The sword lowered slowly to my side and my eyes drifted toward the floor. Head bowed, I recalled when Robin asked me to slay her, and realized how weak and inadequate she made me feel. I could not pledge my hand in assistance for the very reason my dear brother met his end. She knew how to play me like a fiddle. Her eyes would gaze into mine and her grip would tighten around my soul. Without Lydia’s talisman to protect me, my humanity would be torn away and she would drown me in darkness. And I would enjoy every moment of it.

  “You’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

  I nodded and turned to face Monica, watching her lean against the doorframe. She held a cup of coffee in her hands and regarded me in a solemn manner “I am certain you believe this,” I said, reaching for the sword’s sheath and slipping it over the blade before gently placing the katana back onto the bed. “I pray your faith is strong enough for the both of us.”

  “It’s not my faith that’s going to win the battle. You need to have some yourself.” Monica raised the cup to her lips and indulged in a drink. A smile lit her face. “Maybe you can borrow it from somebody who once had a lot of faith in you.”

  I sighe
d. My eyes gravitated toward the hilt of my katana again. “Lydia visited my dreams in the past, but has been absent in recent days.”

  “I’m not sure how the other side works, but I doubt she’s given many chances to use the telephone.” Monica entered the room, but hesitated a few feet away from me. “I do know one thing about visits from the grave, though. They’re done for a specific reason. When you need to hear from her the most, that’s when she’ll appear.”

  “Very well.” My eyes lifted from the sword to the wall across the room. I drew in a deep breath. “The sun is setting. What does the night have in store?”

  Monica sat on the edge of my bed. “Well, while Mathias and his band of merry vamps are just a few hours in the life of a janitor now, I doubt he’s the only one trying to make a grab for power.” She looked up at me. “I’m sorry I tricked you, by the way.”

  “No. It is a fortunate thing we were there.” My gaze shifted to Monica. “How shall we go about subduing the others?”

  Monica paused to reflect. “What happened when Mathias first entered the hospital last night?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, did you feel something?”

  I perked an eyebrow. “You know I felt something?”

  She smirked, drinking from her mug again. “I wouldn’t be much of a watcher if I wasn’t keeping an eye on you, Peter.”

  “Granted.” I ran my fingers through my hair, and then paused for a moment, searching for the right words. “It was . . . a disquieting sensation. I knew they meant ill before one of them so much as snarled. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I dare say, that had never happened to me prior to last night.”

  “So, it set off an alarm?”

  “Yes.” I furrowed my brow. “It was as though an ill wind had descended upon me. I sensed the evil . . . ” I trailed off as the gravity of my words finally impacted. “Monica, I detected it as though it was removed from me.”

  Her smile widened. I mirrored her grin and laughed despite myself. “Amazing,” I said. “That came absolutely out of nowhere.”

  “Now, the question is . . . ” She placed her coffee cup on the stand beside my bed. Monica rose to her feet and folded her arms across her chest. “Can you do it again, seer?”

  My grin turned cunning. “Is this a challenge?”

  Monica shrugged. “You could call it that.”

  “I could and I shall.” Plucking the katana from the bed, I tossed it upward and caught it with my other hand. “I do not back down from a challenge. I shall seek them out from the crowd using this newfound sense.” I pointed the pommel at Monica, “And I shall send those bastards packing into the hereafter, mark my words.”

  She chuckled at my enthusiasm. Closing the distance between us, Monica patted my shoulder and smirked. “Let’s wait for the sun to finish setting first. Or else, the only one being sent to the hereafter will be you.”

  “Sage advice.” I watched her wink and turn toward the corridor. The corners of my mouth remained curled in a grin. “A pity my gifts cannot assist me with that.”

  “We work with what we have.” Monica paused in the doorway. Her eyes evaluated me while she touched her arms with her gloved hands. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  My grin broadened. “Do not attempt to dissuade me, Monica. I mean to embrace this destiny.”

  She chuckled. “Very well, then.” Her smile faded. The ironclad barrier around her thoughts lowered for a moment, permitting me a glimpse inside before she erected the wall once more. “I have a couple of things I need to do. We’ll set out in an hour or two, okay?”

  “Agreed.” I held an even expression until she disappeared down the hallway. Once she was out of sight, though, my grin dissolved and a slight wave of trepidation settled on my demeanor. I nodded, sitting slowly on the bed, and settled the weight of my katana across my knees. “Yes, the Supernatural Order. I am certain they wish to know how black my heart remains.”

  Gazing at the sword beneath my hands, I forced myself to consider the question. How wicked was I yet? After the previous night’s events, I could not deny a chasm of detachment between who I was and who I had been. The exercises were helping. Saving others had already opened pathways to the light. Were those things enough, though, or did they merely tip me toward my human side with the demon yet lying in wait?

  The Council, assuredly, had their doubts.

  My eyes remained fixed on my sword. It might have been an assassin’s tool, but I was as much Flynn as he was me. It simply amounted to who held the keys at any given moment. I subdued his lust for blood. I had embraced that which I had once loathed. Would his vehemence ever rise to the surface again, though?

  I frowned as I realized I could not give the Order an answer with any degree of certainty. My words would never be enough anyway from my discussions with Monica, I knew they viewed vampires as precious little more than masters of deceit. If anything, my actions would be the clincher; both in maintaining a hold on my personality and convincing others my motives were pure.

  What better way to accomplish this than killing a few miscreants?

  Standing, I unsheathed the sword, grasping it in one hand and swinging it around once more. As my eyes closed, I lost myself in its rhythm, feeling what could only be described as the pulse of life. I whipped the steel through the air as though conducting a symphony and opened myself up to the world around me. Breaths and heartbeats. That notion of fighting for an existence, of facing adversity and subduing it. Minutes elapsed as I continued swinging the sword, swept up in the thoughts of nights to come, of opportunity and purpose waiting to be realized. When I stopped, it was with my sword clutched in both hands, poised at-the-ready.

  My eyes opened. My smile turned unholy. The time had come for the vampires to fear my blade for an entirely different reason.

  ***

  The wind whipped my hair around as my eyes scanned the night sky, searching for stars obscured by the iridescent glow of the city. Beside me stood Monica, who was leaning against the railing of a fire escape. “Yes,” she said, responding to a question I had just posed to her. Her gaze remained fixed on the ground below as she sighed. “I should know better than to let my guard down while in the presence of a seer.”

  I grinned. “Well, you were practically screaming your secrets to me,” I said as I waited for something to summon my alarms. “Do tell me, then, what your Council would have you do with me?”

  “They’re still upset at me, but they’ll be glad to hear you’re coming around. The next couple of weeks are going to be a little tense while they’re trying to figure out what to make of you.”

  I scoffed and glanced down at Monica. “If abandoning me becomes necessary, I shall understand. Do not continue to hold this obligation if it shall result in disciplinary action being taken against you.”

  “That’s not it.” Monica glanced quickly at me, and then looked away again. The wind tossed her hair about, the strands intermingling with her green neck scarf as both sailed behind her. “This has nothing to do with me. The worst thing that could happen is they’d dismiss me and strip away my powers.”

  “This does not sound like a minor thing.”

  “It is compared to what I fear the most.”

  “And what is that?”

  “You.”

  I perked an eyebrow. “I assumed as such, but”

  “You being killed.”

  Monica’s eyes met mine as I gazed down at her. She sighed. “They’re not exactly convinced letting you live is a good thing. Given your past, they’re trying to decide whether or not they should strike you down now while you’re in a ‘weakened condition’, to use their words. It’s a philosophical debate. Kill the monster, or thank the Fates for a reclaimed seer and just embrace his new quirks.”

  “Fangs, a blood-only diet, and an aversion to sunlight are quirks?” I chuckled and glanced away again. “I do suppose I would take some getting used to. Amongst the lot of them, though, they s
hould have enough protection spells not to fear my presence.”

  “It’s not that, Peter. They don’t want you killing”

  “I know what they fear, Monica. I was jesting.”

  I directed my attention toward Monica again and nodded. “It is a warranted fear and a sage debate. I would not be ready to accept me with open arms either.” My smile faded as I paused. Reflexively, my eyes lowered to the ground below. “I am not certain how long I wish to carry on. My mind is being kept occupied enough for the time being, but the longer I possess a conscience, the harder it shall be to wrestle with myself. If my deeds constitute some form of punishment, so be it.”

  “That doesn’t make you unworthy of mercy.”

  “I neither deserve, nor request, mercy. I merely ask for the chance to undo what I have done before they demand my ashes.” Jumping onto the railing, I crouched and glanced about the alleyways below as something started tickling my senses. “When I have the situation resolved, I shall surrender in chains if they request it. For now, I have a mission to accomplish.”

  Monica looked first at me, then down toward the city streets. “Is something coming?”

  I nodded slowly, eyes scanning the area while a shiver crawled up my spine. The air about me went from pleasant to chilling and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end once more. “Yes,” I said in a distant manner, my focus becoming completely preoccupied. “Five of them, though I am not certain from where this notion comes, simply that it is truth.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Going in with both guns blazing?”

  I smirked and adjusted my coat in an effort to conceal the shoulder holster that held three knives securely against my torso. The katana would be impossible to hide, but I did not feel the need to anyway. Any vampire who knew my name knew how much I favored the sword. Seeing me without one might have proven more suspicious than having it openly displayed. “No, I believe I shall chat with them first. Wait here.” Springing from my perch, I fell to the ground below and bent my knees as my feet impacted the asphalt. I straightened to a stand, walked toward an adjacent building and produced a pack of cigarettes. Tapping one out, I lit it and waited for the group to emerge.