Freeze

by Kaitlyn Davis

  What? Pandora thought, doubtful. “So when I stepped through the glass yesterday, I really teleported myself across it?”

  Sam nodded.

  “But it felt like walking.”

  He shrugged. “That’s only because that’s what you thought you were doing. I started with the glass since it’s the easiest. You see exactly where you’re going. Visualizing the end destination is hardly more than a second thought.”

  “But with concrete, I don’t really know what I’m walking into, or I guess, where I’m sending myself?”

  “Exactly. And that can be…” Sam swallowed, throat tight as a memory flashed deep in his eyes. “Dangerous.”

  Wait.

  The word passed through her mind again, and she listened to the sound anew, realizing for the first time there had been an edge of desperation to Sam’s cry a few minutes before. His voice hadn’t been lazily calm or mysteriously alluring or mocking or teasing.

  It had been panicked.

  It had been worried.

  Pandora straightened her shoulders, eager for the challenge rather than intimidated by it. After all, if she was going to die one way or another, she’d rather die trying. “What do I have to do? How can I visualize a place I’ve never been?”

  “The easiest way is to think of a person,” he said. “And if that fails, imagine the room you want to move yourself into, every single detail of it. Imagine yourself inside of it, where you’d want to be, the safest place to reappear. Let your body go there, let the shadows do the work, but don’t force it. And don’t hesitate. Not for a single second.”

  “Sam?” she whispered, vulnerable.

  “Yes?” he answered just as softly.

  “Couldn’t I transport myself home?” Pandora asked, frowning when tender green eyes suddenly filled her vision—the person who’d always been that place for her. What am I even saying? I don’t have a home. I don’t have anywhere, anyone. Not anymore. “I mean,” she corrected, clearing her thoughts, “couldn’t I just think of my apartment in New York or some other place, and go there? Is this how I get free?”

  “Maybe someday, some other time,” he answered, gazing deep into her eyes, expression empathetic but also probing, as though he too had seen those saltwater irises flash to life within her. “But for now, it’s too risky. You’ve never traveled that deep into the shadows, and there’s not enough time to teach you. Today, let’s try something simple.” And then he tossed her a teasing smile, lightening the mood. “Well, simple for me, at least.”

  Pandora wrinkled her nose at him. “Try me.”

  “Pick a cell, any cell,” he taunted, tossing his hands wide.

  Pandora glanced to the concrete wall at her right, picturing the cell she’d noticed was empty the day before when she’d been outside of her own, exploring. And then she shifted to the left, remembering the girl she’d seen through the glass yesterday—a girl around the same age as her. What had she done to land herself in this prison? What could the titans possibly want with her? And why was she in what Pandora assumed was the most secure part of the jail, reserved for VIP prisoners like herself? Of the ten cells in this hallway, only four were filled. Pandora’s. This girl’s. And two others holding men—one older and one seemingly young. Truth be told, neither had caught her attention, because at the moment she was sort of over the opposite sex. Correction—totally over the opposite sex.

  Excluding present company, of course, Pandora thought, gaze sliding to Sam for a moment, lingering on his golden hair, which was just long enough to be the perfect amount of messy. And let’s be real, most of the time, he’s pushing his luck. Like right now, with that challenging gleam in the depths of his blue eyes, with that slightly cocky grin threatening to spread across his lips, with those sturdy, strong arms crossed over his puffed-up chest, with—Okay, okay. Focus, woman. Freaking hormones.

  “I’ve got it,” Pandora said aloud.

  “Then let’s see it.”

  Pandora closed her eyes and gathered the shadows, sensing Sam’s presence despite the distance between their bodies. As the darkness wrapped around her, the awareness only grew, as though he’d turned to mist and wrapped himself around her, cocooned her, as though he were protecting her.

  Pandora brought the girl she’d seen in her neighboring cell to the forefront of her thoughts, picturing her wavy, curling umber hair and rich copper skin. There had been a grace about the way she’d been sitting, eyes closed peacefully, full lips pressed ever so slightly together, breathing in and out of her wide-set nose. Her legs had been crossed, but even still, they looked long and lean. Her hands had been folded in her lap. Everything about her had been serene, almost regal, totally at odds with her situation in a way that had piqued Pandora’s interest.

  Who was she?

  “Who are you?”

  It took a moment for Pandora to realize the words hadn’t come from her lips, that she hadn’t been the one to speak them. She opened her eyes, confused to find that the shadows still danced across her vision like a black veil over the world. She was still invisible. So whom was the girl talking to?

  “What do you seek?” the voice came again, purring and calm, not at all afraid.

  Well, you, Pandora answered silently, before smirking and giving herself a mental high five. I did it. I actually did it. Take that, Sam.

  “Why—” But the girl stopped talking abruptly and jumped. She flipped like an acrobat to land smoothly in a crouched position in one swift, sudden move. Her gaze was sharp, eyes the color of glowing amber as they zeroed in on Pandora’s location in her cell. “Who are you?”

  Those words weren’t calm. They came out with bite.

  Pandora gasped.

  She’s talking to me.

  She was talking to me the entire time.

  “You can see me?” she asked quickly, shocked. No one can see me. No one but Jax and Sam. How—

  But her thought was broken as the girl bared her teeth and growled, a guttural sound that ended with a hiss, a warning. Long, sharp nails scraped against the concrete floor of the cell.

  “Whoa, chill,” Pandora said quickly. “I’m your next-door neighbor, just another unlucky recipient of titan hospitality.”

  The girl didn’t relax. Instead, she narrowed her eyes. “How’d you get in here?”

  “I have the power to turn invisible and walk through walls.” The truth came barreling out, and the girl blinked once before widening her eyes just slightly. Pandora grinned. “Pretty cool, right?”

  Her fellow inmate remained unconvinced. “Show yourself.”

  “No can do,” she said, shrugging before she remembered this girl couldn’t actually see her—just sense her. “Those cameras on the other side of the glass? Right now, they can’t tell I’m in here with you. And since I don’t hear the static of active speakers, I’m guessing no one is listening either, which works for me, because I’d prefer it if the titans didn’t know all of my tricks. Which brings me back to my previous question: how the hell can you see me?”

  The girl stared for a second longer and then finally let the tension ooze from her body, melting to the floor in a fluid motion, returning to her meditative seated position. “I’m a medium. I can sense your spirit. At first, I thought you were just another lost soul looking for salvation.”

  Pandora thought back to the catlike reflexes, the hiss, the subtle scrape of claws, and arched her brow. “A medium?”

  A corner of the girl’s lips lifted. “Among other things.”

  “So you talk to the dead?”

  “Among other things.”

  Quite the chatterbox, Pandora mused, clicking her tongue for something else to say. But before an idea came to mind, Sam materialized by her side.

  “Nicely done,” he murmured, speaking into her ear the way he preferred, leaning close. “Do it again, to your own cell this time, no person as an anchor to guide you, and I’ll answer one question. Any one you’ve got. I promise.”

  Pandora glared at him. �
��You’ve said that before.”

  He shrugged. “Do you believe me?”

  Yes.

  No.

  Maybe?

  Dammit.

  “How about you answer my question now?” Pandora asked instead.

  Sam’s gaze traveled to the girl sitting on the floor of the cell, eyes closed peacefully. Was he worried she would hear? The first thing Sam had taught her three days ago was how to hide her voice within the shadows, how to keep their conversations private.

  “After,” was all he said.

  And then he was gone.

  Poof.

  There one second, gone the next. Just like always.

  That is getting so annoying.

  Pandora sighed.

  By her feet, the girl tilted her head curiously, as though she could sense the change in Pandora’s mood. And it was only then that Pandora realized this self-proclaimed medium hadn’t even flinched when Sam had popped into her cell, hadn’t even noticed him.

  Ugh, typical Sam.

  Another question.

  Another puzzle.

  “Are you all right?” the girl asked, intrigued by whatever Pandora’s silence was communicating.

  “Just dandy,” Pandora quipped, shaking her head. “More than ready to break my way out of here, though, that’s for sure.”

  The girl’s eyes flashed as she opened them, sparing another probing glance Pandora’s way. “There’s no way out of here. I should know. I’ve been trying for months.”

  “Oh, there’s a way,” Pandora murmured, mind already back in her cell where Sam was waiting, already running through all the questions she wanted to ask him. “I just haven’t quite found it yet.”

  The girl released a slow, heavy breath brimming with skepticism. “Good luck.”

  But Pandora hardly heard. All her focus was on Sam and the answer he’d just promised. So, she gathered the shadows close, forgetting the strange girl as she cleared her mind, preparing to jump back through the wall. Painting a mental picture, Pandora imagined her cell. The glass wall that was perfectly clear aside from the oil spot her hand had left when she’d reached for Jax the morning before. The concrete at her feet was cool to the touch and slightly uneven, bulging out the slightest in the center. The walls were coarse, a monotonous dull gray, and in the back corner, there was a small crack, the only imperfection in an otherwise smooth surface. Her one private space, a three-foot-long wall hiding the toilet tucked in the corner opposite the one with a flaw. And hidden somewhere in the shadows, waiting for her in that cell, was Sam.

  Sam who lived in darkness yet shone with sun-kissed skin. Sam with probing blue eyes deeper even than the ocean. Sam who was warm and alive, a fire in the night, yet far away and out of reach, a phantom made of black smoke. Sam who—

  Is glaring at me right now despite the fact that I was only doing exactly what he told me to and totally kicked ass at this teleportation thing!

  “What?” Pandora snapped.

  “Never use me as your anchor,” he responded, tone deadly serious. “You don’t know where the shadows will take you.”

  Pandora frowned, narrowing her gaze. “But you do?”

  Sam sighed and shook his head. “One question, like I promised.”

  “Where—”

  “Not that question.” Shaking his head with an exasperated smile, he muttered, “Why are you always so difficult?”

  “It’s part of my charm,” she responded, smirking. But he was right—she didn’t want to waste this golden opportunity. She had one question, so she had to make it good.

  What am I? she thought immediately but pushed the instinct down. That was too open-ended, too big a question. Sam would just murmur some sly response, and she’d be exactly where she was now—nowhere.

  Why does my father want to kill me?

  Who are the titans really?

  How have you known me for a thousand years?

  How many past lives have we shared?

  How many times have you watched me die?

  There were too many secrets, too many questions. How could she possibly choose only one?

  Those aren’t the right questions. Sam’s words from yesterday came back to her. If all the questions she wanted to ask weren’t right, then what was? Pandora thought of his story, of the question he’d asked, the one that plagued him. What’s worse? To love and always lose, or to never remember? He’d been talking about them. Even though none of it made sense, that did. He’d been talking about the two of them, their miserable fates, their cycle, their curse.

  “Who did this to us?” Pandora asked, not thinking, but somehow it felt right.

  Yet immediately, Sam’s eyes darkened, falling slightly, changing his entire demeanor. He stepped closer, bringing a hand to her cheek, pausing for a moment as he probed her gaze. And then the edges of his brows lifted, a defeated expression, as he whispered, “The people we once trusted most in the world.”

  “Who? Who was that?”

  But Sam shook his head, body growing dimmer, fading to shadow as he withered away, expression grim. The heat from his hand was the last thing to disappear, lingering on her cheek even after he was gone.

  Mother fu—

  Pandora slammed her palm against the ground, letting the loud smack interrupt her thoughts, focusing instead on the way her skin stung, burned.

  “That’s not a freaking answer,” she fumed.

  Sam was never going to give her the truth. And maybe he couldn’t. Maybe it wasn’t his choice. He’d said as much when he’d so rudely interrupted her kiss with Jax back during their road trip, demanding she speak to him. Tucked behind that gas station near the Florida state line, he’d said there were things he wasn’t allowed to say, things he wanted to tell her but couldn’t.

  Did she believe him?

  Did it matter?

  Sam wasn’t going to talk. So that meant she had to find the truth somewhere else, from someone else. But who? The titans wouldn’t tell her. Jax couldn’t be trusted. Her father wanted to stick a knife in her chest. And, well, she’d been a pissed-off loner with a chip on her shoulder for the past four years—friends hadn’t exactly been high on the list. So without Sam, there was no one.

  Unless…

  Pandora swiveled her head slowly, peering toward the concrete wall at her back, the one she’d just transported through. The girl was a medium—at least that’s what she’d said. And when Pandora materialized in her cell, she’d acted like wandering spirits came to her all the time, acted like communicating with the dead was as easy as breathing, and as common as it too.

  No one alive would tell Pandora anything.

  But what about someone who was dead?

  What about someone with nothing left to lose, someone who’d been a titan archivist, someone whose very power was the ability to pass memories down through the generations?

  What about someone like her mother?

  Chapter Three

  Pandora was invigorated by her new plan. Finally, she had somewhere to go, something tangible to do. A goal. A destination. A path that might actually lead to answers, might actually lead to freedom. For the first time in a long time, Pandora wasn’t just running aimlessly, to avoid and to hide. She was running toward something, toward her mother.

  And it made her feel alive.

  After so many muddled days underground, repeating the same process over and over—waiting for Sam or hiding from Jax or studying the four sterile walls around her—Pandora’s mind was sharp again, focused, completely ready to fight. Escape was the first step, and after that, she’d do whatever she needed to do in order to talk to her mother.

  Simple. Easy.

  Yeah, right, Pandora thought, mind whirling even though she’d yet to open her eyes.

  Had she dreamed? Had she slept? It felt as though she’d done little more than blink. Her thoughts ran continuously, still scheming, still planning, as though no time had passed at all. But the smells of citrus and cinnamon filled her nostrils, a sign
that her breakfast plate of orange juice, milk, and overdone oatmeal had surely arrived.

  Pandora ignored it, going over the steps in her mind.

  First, she needed to figure out how to get out of this place. She needed a map or some sense of where to run, which doors would lead up and out.

  Then she needed to convince her oh-so-friendly neighbor to come with her. Shouldn’t be too hard considering they were both in prison. What convict wouldn’t accept freedom handed to her on a silver platter? No, the hard part would be getting her to promise Pandora a favor in return. Nothing big, just something little like, well, a conversation with her long-lost mom.

  And finally, there was only one tiny, insignificant step—breaking out of this godforsaken place.

  Voila, freedom.

  Of course, after they’d escaped, they’d need to avoid the titan trackers who would inevitably chase after them, figure out how to get to Pandora’s mom, and, well, somehow convince her mom to spill these all-important titan secrets. Oh, and there was also the last bit—altering the course of Pandora’s destiny.

  But first things first. The rest, she’d figure out later.

  She hoped.

  With a sigh, Pandora finally opened her eyes and rolled toward the smell of her food, stomach grumbling with hunger. She paused when she saw Jax sitting on the other side of the glass, watching her. Their eyes met before Pandora had the chance to realize she was visible, before she remembered she’d woken up and never pulled the shadows around her.

  He held her gaze.

  Frozen.

  They both were.

  Pandora stopped, midway to a seated position, leaning on her elbows, stuck as his spell wrapped around her. Jax watched from beneath hooded eyes, hands digging into either side of his scalp, a position of defeat with his shoulders hunched and elbows resting on bent knees.