Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group)

by Andrea Domanski

  Startled, Mirissa teleported to the other side of the temple. “Ooh, aren’t you sneaky. Maybe you forgot, but I can teleport now, too.” She could see Greco crouched low to her left but dared not glance in his direction. Instead, she jumped once more, this time to a spot four rows up from the demi-god.

  As soon as she materialized, she flung her arm straight out, using the energy of her telekinesis to lift Daedric off his feet and slam him to the rock. Her next blast shattered the two thousand-year-old stone he’d stood upon a second before.

  Her eyes darted left and right, trying to find where he’d materialized, until a slight stirring in the air directly behind her made her spin around. Just in time to see a small boulder crash against an invisible barrier not twelve inches from her face.

  “Thanks Beck,” she said to the teammate who’d saved her life.

  “All this jumping around is making it a little difficult to keep you covered. Any chance you could stay in one spot?” Beck asked.

  “I will if he will. Can you see him anywhere?” Mirissa asked.

  Beck scanned the area. “My night vision isn’t perfect, but I got nothing. Do you think he left?”

  As though answering her question, an angry wail filled the air from the edge of the temple floor. Orano, the biggest man Mirissa had ever known, had fallen to his knees, clawing at his throat.

  Beck threw up a shield around him just as he collapsed, unmoving, to the stone floor. “Son of a—”

  “Greco!” Mirissa yelled as they sprinted to intervene. He was nowhere to be found.

  As she neared the edge of the temple, she could see the steady rise and fall of Orano’s chest. He was alive. “Beck, keep him covered.”

  In every fight she’d ever been in—from sparring in her childhood martial arts classes to battling demons with the Omega Group—Mirissa had always relied on her instincts. Her brain and body seemed to know the correct move to make before her conscious mind had time to catch up. At that moment, however, her instincts were driving her in two different directions. Either find and protect Greco, or find and destroy Daedric.

  She chose the latter. Neutralizing Daedric, although not her mission, would ensure everyone’s safety. Plus, she really needed to take her frustrations out on someone, and she couldn’t think of anyone more deserving.

  Greco, wherever you are, I hope you understand.

  Chapter 19

  Flip walked lazily through the mostly deserted streets of Thessaloniki with Jill’s hand grasping his. He felt lighter, as though with each step his feet barely brushed the sidewalk. The feeling was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. For the first time in his very long life, he didn’t feel the need to look over his shoulder so as not to be taken by surprise when one of his many tormentors chose to abuse him.

  I could get used to this, he thought. Then the knot in his stomach that had become his permanent companion, wrenched itself even tighter. In less than three days, Jill Gulick would be dead or dying, along with every other human on Earth. Although the thought of Orano being wiped off the planet by Eris didn’t really bother him, he’d grown fond of Mirissa and the others. Even the annoyingly attractive one.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” Jill gazed into his eyes with what could only be described as worry etched across her face.

  “Talk about what?” Flip’s palms turned instantly sweaty. Had she figured out he was an imposter? Or did she just finally realize he wasn’t worth her time?

  “We’ve been walking these streets since they left and you’ve barely spoken a word. I wasn’t going to say anything, but …” Jill dropped her gaze to the ground and pulled her hand out of his. “You don’t have to be nice to me, you know. I mean, I really appreciate you keeping me entertained, but I don’t want you to feel coerced into hanging out with me.” She guffawed while absently pulling an errant lock of hair out of her eye. “I’m hardly the type of woman a man like you would be interested in.”

  Flip’s jaw felt as though it would bounce off the cement at his feet. Did she really just say that? “You think I’m too good for you?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. He’d been set up like this many times, by gods who would use his reaction as fodder for their entertainment. He’d just opened himself up to ridicule from the one person he knew he couldn’t bear to hear it from.

  “You’re an acclaimed archeologist and I’m a lowly civil servant,” she said.

  Flip’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re a servant? Bring me to your master and I will have you released immediately.”

  Her giggle succeeded in calming him down, at least a little.

  “No, Phillip. Civil servant is another way of saying government employee.”

  Relief washed over him as he tried to think of a way to explain his stupidity. “Oh, sorry. Sometimes I get words mixed up.”

  “Well, of course you do, silly. English is a difficult language to learn. I’m so impressed that you’re as fluent as you are. I can’t speak a word of Greek.”

  Flip stared into the eyes of the first woman to ever be impressed by him. Unlike his now dripping palms, his mouth felt as dry as the sidewalk. Every instinct he had screamed at him to run away before he made even more of a fool of himself but, for some reason he couldn’t explain, he did the opposite. As she tilted her chin upward, Flip swooped in and gently brushed his lips against hers. His very first kiss.

  When he pulled back and opened his eyes, he found her peering at him, a single tear trickling down her beautiful cheek. “I’m so sorry. I had no right to—”

  Before he could finish his apology, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips on his. This kiss was anything but gentle, and Flip silently thanked the gods for sending him this incredible woman.

  When Jill untangled herself from him, she once again grabbed his hand—sweaty palm and all—and led him down the street. “So, if it wasn’t being with me that had you so torn up, what was it?”

  Flip knew he should respond to her question, but when she moved her mouth to speak, all he could think of was kissing those lips again. It felt as though his entire existence before meeting Jill had been simply to ready himself for when he finally found her. Now that he had, he couldn’t imagine going back to being alone.

  “There it is again,” she said. “That look of angst you’ve had all night. Are you worried about your friends?”

  “My what?” Flip’s brow furrowed as he tried to understand whom she was referencing.

  “Your friends. Mirissa, Beck, Orano, and Greco. Are you worried about them? Is that why you’re feeling such pain?”

  Flip stopped moving, mid-stride. Could it be true? Had Mirissa and the others somehow become his friends?

  Realization crashed so violently upon him that he couldn’t take in a breath. He liked them, even the behemoth. They were good people doing good things, even when their lives were threatened. They were nice to him. They’d protected him. They cared about him.

  And he’d been plotting their deaths with Ares—a god who would sooner spit on him than utter one word not filled with disdain.

  Flip doubled over, hands on his knees, trying desperately to breathe. What have I done?

  “Phillip, what’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” Jill wrapped her arm around his shoulders.

  Flip’s immediate reaction to her kindness was to heave. How could he have ever wanted to rid the world of humans? When the warmth of her embrace broke through his horror, he slowly straightened his spine and took in the beauty all around him, as though seeing it for the first time.

  The faint music escaping through a window far above them. The smell of fresh pastries wafting through the air. Laughter from a group of late night revelers exiting the bar down the street.

  And the serene beauty of the woman at his side.

  “There’s something I need to do. Can I take you back to the hotel? I won’t be gone long,” Flip said, filled with a determination he’d not felt in a very long time.

  Jill
scrunched her forehead in the most adorable way, as though she couldn’t decide whether or not he was crazy. “Phillip, you go do whatever it is you need to. I can get back to the hotel by myself.”

  Flip stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. She must have had more to say. No one could possibly be that kind and understanding, at least not to him. When she did nothing more than smile, he asked, “You’re not mad?”

  Her hand grazed his arm as she spoke. “No. I can see that whatever is going on is important to you. If, at some point, you want to talk about it, I’m here for you.” She placed a gentle kiss on his lips, gave him one last smile, and headed back toward the hotel.

  Flip wanted nothing more at that moment than to sweep her up in his arms and confess everything: what he really was and what plan he’d been a part of. But he couldn’t. Not yet. If he had any chance of saving his friends—oh, how he liked the sound of that word—he needed them to trust him. For that, he would need to lie a little while longer.

  As soon as Jill turned the corner, Flip teleported. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

  Chapter 20

  Mirissa’s heart raced as she frantically scanned the area. Beck crouched beside the stone floor of Apollo’s temple, covering an unconscious Orano with her shield. There was no sign of Daedric or Greco.

  Where the hell are they?

  As soon as she’d completed the thought, an invisible force lifted her off her feet and slammed her into the ruins that descended down the side of the mountain below the temple. Unable to catch her breath as she righted herself, Mirissa fought through the pain caused by her ribs that were no doubt cracked.

  “Is that the best you got, Daedric?” she yelled, though her new injury took most of the power out of it. Her ribs would heal quickly, but not quickly enough. “Show yourself, you coward.”

  Every step she took toward the temple sent a stab of pain through her chest that proved difficult to ignore. The tingling in her ring finger which had diminished when she was hurled down the mountain, resumed when she once again reached the plateau. What are you trying to tell me?

  A slight movement from behind the tallest of the ancient pillars lining the edge of the temple caught her attention. Bracing herself for the excruciating pain she knew would come, Mirissa flung her right arm out, sending a blast of energy to the only part of Daedric visible to her—his butt. A smile graced her lips as she watched him tumble backward, yelping at the unexpected hit.

  Pressing her advantage, Mirissa charged the temple, leaping up to the stone platform and preparing for her next attack. But, as soon as her feet hit the rock floor, an overwhelming sensation enveloped her. Her ring’s snake grew, spiraling up her arm as it had done many times before, but she barely noticed. The scene around her was changing, the same way it had in Pella. The ancient ruins were still there, but superimposed on top of them were the images of the site as it must have looked thousands of years ago.

  Intricately carved stone walls and a myriad of statues surrounded Mirissa. Behind her, where Orano still lay, a small group of men kneeled with their heads bowed. An old woman, sitting on an uncomfortable-looking tripod, swayed back and forth while chanting words Mirissa couldn’t understand. The bitter smell of something she couldn’t identify filled the room.

  Mirissa, knowing she would soon lose her advantage over Daedric, shook her head to rid herself of the unwanted images of the past. It almost worked. As quickly as the scene had grown around her, it fell away to reveal an empty mountain plateau: no temple, no man-made structures of any kind. How far back in time the image came from, Mirissa didn’t know. But before she could even hazard a guess, a flash of light erupted a few feet in front of her. It seared her eyes almost as much as the lightning strike had done on Mount Olympus. Glowing white orbs bounced around the inside of her eyelids as she squeezed them shut against the light. When she felt stable enough to open them again, she was no longer alone.

  A beautiful man, easily almost seven feet tall, wearing a white tunic cinched at the waist, stood before her. Mirissa instinctively knew exactly what he was. A god. Which god he was, she had no idea, just that he radiated the same awesome power she’d felt when Ares and Artemis had popped in on them at Ortega.

  She watched as he pulled a long, curved sword from his tunic and held it in front of him. Blood dripped from its blade, soaking the ground at his feet. Mirissa scrunched her nose as the same bitter smell—stronger this time—assailed her. In one swift move, the god drove the sword into the dirt, leaving only the blood-soaked ground to mark its burial place.

  A self-satisfied grin spread across his face as he rose up to his full intimidating height. His gaze scanned the area around him, pausing when it crossed her. The grin immediately fell away, replaced by a look she could only describe as confusion.

  Could he see her? Could that even be possible? Before she could come up with any explanation, pain exploded in her head as a man-sized chunk of ruin pummeled her left shoulder, almost tearing off her ear. The scene around her instantly returned to the present day as another man-sized object—this time Greco—drove his shoulder into her chest, pushing them both over the edge of the temple floor.

  Mirissa screamed in pain as her ribs almost collapsed under the force of the blow. She tried to stand, but couldn’t push herself past her knees. Her head hung low as she took short, quick breaths, each one bringing more pain than the last.

  “What the hell happened, Mirissa?” Greco yelled. “You had him!”

  “I … I can’t ...” The words wouldn’t come out, so she gave up trying. Instead she focused all of her energy on breathing through the pain. She used her right arm, still wrapped in her shimmering green snake, to push herself up. Dizzy from not taking a full breath in far too long, Mirissa rested her hands on her knees, halfway to a standing position.

  Greco grabbed her shoulders and yanked her the rest of the way up. “What’s going on with you?”

  Mirissa cringed as she spat out the words through clenched teeth. “Ribs … broken.”

  Had she not been in so much pain, she might have laughed at Greco’s look of guilt and shame. “God, I’m sorry. That rock almost took your head off and I didn’t think. I just needed to get you away from Daedric. If his aim had been better, you’d be dead already.”

  The relief of not being assaulted anymore allowed Mirissa to fully regain her awareness. “I have to stop him.” She forced herself to take a step, then another, and another, until the agony would let her go no further, and she crumpled to the ground.

  Greco held her shoulders, gently this time. “Stay here. Beck and Orano and I will keep him busy until you’re healed enough to move safely. You can use your telekinesis from here, without having to move a muscle. Take advantage of that power.” Before she could argue, Greco sprinted around to the back side of the temple where Beck was crouched.

  Didn’t he know she needed to actually see what she was doing when she used her powers? The retaining wall that kept the temple floor from crumbling down the mountainside, towered above her, blocking her view of everything above. Here goes nothing, she thought, hoping Greco wouldn’t plow into her again when he saw what she’d done.

  She teleported to the one place she knew would allow her to protect her team: the temple floor. Forcing herself to ignore the string of curses coming from Greco, she focused her mind on aiding Beck, who now held a shield over Daedric. Sweat dripped from her brow as she fought to keep the barrier in place under the onslaught of Daedric’s telekinetic fury. Mirissa could see by the expression on Beck’s face that her strength was seriously waning. The shield would fall soon.

  Taking as deep a breath as she could tolerate, Mirissa readied herself for her very first entirely non-physical battle. Although her powers were a natural part of her, she’d never solely relied on them in a fight. Even when she did use them, she always used physical movements to focus them. Both Greco and her father had tried to convince her it wasn’t necessary, but it felt more real to her to connect the p
owers of her mind with those of her body.

  Except for right now.

  Mirissa gingerly placed both of her hands underneath her, sitting on them in an effort to restrain herself. One more semi-deep breath, and she conjured a mini whirlwind of small rocks, twigs, and other debris from the ground. So far, so good. With Daedric safely trapped inside Beck’s shield, at least for the moment, Mirissa continued to test herself. Keeping the debris cyclone hovering in place, she focused her mind on lifting the large chunk of rock that had almost killed her a few moments ago. As soon as it rose into the air, her cyclone dissipated.

  She jerked at her trapped hands, groaning at the pain the movement caused, before convincing herself not to give up. The little tornado once again roared into place, while the enormous rock raised itself slowly off the floor. Just a few inches, but it didn’t matter. She could do this.

  “I can’t hold him anymore,” Beck yelled as a blast of telekinetic power launched her over the retaining wall.

  Mirissa propelled the cyclone to where Daedric stood, only to have it disintegrate with a flick of his wrist. Undaunted, she flung the chunk of rock she’d been levitating at his head. It didn’t make actual contact, as he simply used his own powers to bat it away, but it did make him falter.

  Trying once again to press her advantage, she lifted every piece of rock she could see that wasn’t part of a building and drove them at Daedric, one at a time, until he bellowed in anger.

  That same bitter smell from her earlier visions assailed her again. Her ring’s snake, still wrapped around her arm, began to expand and contract with every beat of her heart. A warmth radiated from its body, spreading through hers. The fear of being pulled into another vision increased her heart rate exponentially. She found herself panting at the effort to keep focused on hurling projectiles.

  It doesn’t hurt, she thought with surprise. Every breath she’d taken since her ribs cracked had filled her with excruciating pain. But now, even panting heavily, she felt nothing. She shouldn’t have healed that quickly.