It was also, of course, what she’d been betting on.
Pandora was the distraction, the trap, the bright, shiny present sealed with a fresh bow—too good to be true. And while she drew the attention of every titan in the city, Naya would hopefully be left alone to do the real work—hijacking their getaway vehicle and getting them a one-way trip to safety.
Assuming she doesn’t lose her nerve, of course. And, well, assuming I can make it to her alive, Pandora thought with a soft snort and a quick shake of her head. But let’s stay positive.
Originally, she’d planned to do the thieving—a thought that doubled down when she realized how straight-edge and absolutely against breaking the law Naya could be. But alas, after debating the plan for hours, and she meant hours, they decided on a reluctant role reversal. While Naya was strong, she wasn’t as slippery and evasive as Pandora could be with her shadows. Naya was a cat, not a mouse. And truth be told, Pandora could be a damn good rodent when she had to be—nimble, quick, annoying, and, if she did say so herself, an expert escape artist. And, well, to the titans, she was just much better bait.
Time to get the show on the road, she thought, swallowing back the sliver of fear tightening her throat. Now was not the time to be afraid.
She was strong.
She was powerful.
And she’d been a thorn in the metaphorical titan side for four years—what was another thirty minutes, really? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Pandora let the shadows fall away.
The sun was blinding.
After a week inside and the past few hours veiled in darkness, Pandora flinched, the bright light making her gasp in pain. But after the initial shock faded, a smile widened her cheeks. The warmth sank into her skin, and for the first time in four years, it didn’t sting. There were no prickles pinching her arms, no sense of flames burning her away, only a comfortable heat that melted inside and stayed there.
Because she wasn’t a vampire anymore.
She’d been cured.
Cured because Jax had lied.
Cured just so the titans could turn around and kill her.
Cured and weak and vulnerable.
But standing in the bright light of day and realizing the sun wouldn’t hurt her, Pandora remembered she’d been cured for another reason.
Because she’d chosen to be.
Because she’d wanted to be.
Her actions.
Her choice.
Pandora took a step forward, and another, moving slow, moving at a human pace. She breathed in deep, mesmerized as the subtle hint of flowers and garbage and car exhaust filled her lungs. Sure, not the best thing in the world. But in that moment, it was. Because it was normal. It wasn’t the aromatic sweetness of O negative. It didn’t cause an overwhelming, insatiable thirst. It wasn’t copper-tinted or alluring in the slightest. And when she stretched out with her ears, listening to engines purr and the hum of voices in the distance, she almost wanted to cry. Because there was no steady thrum of pounding pulses, no pumping liquid, no veins ticking under the thin skin of someone’s delicate throat. And when her stomach growled, it was because she was craving a hot dog of all things, loaded with relish and ketchup and the works. Not a person. Not blood.
She wasn’t a vampire anymore.
Sure, she was still on the run. Still being hunted. Still fleeing for her life.
But it was something.
A victory she could enjoy for a few more minutes.
Until a tingle shot down her spine.
A sudden, undeniable awareness that she was being followed.
Pandora didn’t skip a beat. She kept her footsteps even, kept her eyes forward. Two blocks ahead, the main strip of Las Vegas dazzled, her destination. The sidewalk was already crowded despite the early time. And before the titan following her had a chance to close the gap between them, Pandora slipped into the fold, gut screaming that the tracker was close, was right on her heels. But she knew titan protocol—knew the street was too public, too visible. So she kept right on strolling, taking her time as more and more trackers closed in around her—following from behind, waiting nearby, watching from a distance. Two eyes. Then four. Then eight. Then twenty.
And then finally—
“Come with us,” a gruff voice ordered as a hand wrapped around her bicep in a vicelike grip.
“I don’t think so,” she purred and glanced over her shoulder, instantly recognizing the tracker holding her so tight. “Hi, Mr. Woods. How are the twins? Don’t you remember I used to babysit them sometimes?”
He swallowed his response, looking down, looking away.
Yeah, that’s right, Pandora thought, satisfied. Feel guilty. Avert your gaze. Remember I’m not just a target. I’m one of you.
“They’re probably initiated by now,” she continued, reveling in the way the muscles of his throat started to clench with his discomfort. “Your daughter was a tracker, too, right? Is she here somewhere, chasing me down? Your son was a bolter, I think. Was he the one who sent a thousand volts of electricity through my body, knocking me nearly dead?”
“Quiet,” he demanded hoarsely, tugging on her arm, trying to pull her toward a side street.
She ignored the request. “Nearly being the operative word, because we all know I wasn’t supposed to die in Florida. It would have ruined everything. No, you all have something super special planned for my apparently imminent demise, don’t you?”
Pandora paused, stumbling as he jerked her to the edge of the sidewalk, pulling her subtly through the crowd of tourists too busy staring up at the blinking billboards to pay any attention to the girl being kidnapped in plain sight. As her gaze slowly roved, she picked out the other trackers in the crowd, gradually shifting closer, trying to pen her in, trying to keep everything nice and contained, trying to keep the humans from noticing what was going on. There were hunters and bolters and quakers and all sorts of titans nearby, she was sure. But making a scene was always a last resort, especially in a crowd this size, with so many people in harm’s way and so many brains the mindbenders would have to wipe clean.
Too bad they’ve left me with no options, Pandora thought, holding back a grin. Good or bad, a little bit of mischief was undeniably fun, and causing trouble for the titans just made her giddy.
“Sorry to break it to you, Mr. Woods, but I have no intention of going with any of you anytime soon, so—”
“You’re surrounded, Pandora, and your father is on his way. Enough with the games. Come quietly—”
“And what? No one has to get hurt?” she retorted, offering him a pointed stare. “We both know that isn’t true.”
“Pandora.” He repeated her name, voice pleading this time, pained, as though he didn’t want to be doing this any more than she did, as though he had no choice.
We all have choices, she thought. Maybe they’re subtle sometimes, but they’re there.
“You know,” she said casually, conversationally, as she picked out every titan in the crowd, searching for a good spot to run to, a good place to escape. “I keep hearing people tell me to stop with the games, that they’re tired of the games. Well, it’s never been a game to me. It’s been my life. But if games are what you want…” She paused, turning invisible. “I’m more than willing to play.”
He squeezed her tighter.
But it was too late. There was nothing he could do to stop the shadows from wrapping around her, to stop the darkness from hugging her close and protecting her. There was nothing any of them could do. The almighty titans, the stuff of nightmares for the rest of the supernaturals in the world, feared all across the globe, were powerless in her presence.
And they both knew it.
Mr. Woods watched her disappear in his arms, eyes widening with alarm, fingers desperate to keep clutching her a little bit longer. But there was something else in his gaze, an awareness, an understanding that no matter what he did, it wouldn’t be enough.
And it wasn’t.
Pandora sli
pped into the ebony folds, stepping out of the world for an instant, and jumped across the sidewalk. She landed on a spot where she was confident she could reappear—the top of a truck gridlocked in the traffic of the strip. Flinging the shadows away, she watched fifteen heads spin in her direction—trackers picking up on her scent.
Someone screamed.
A pedestrian.
Someone pointed.
Awe. Disbelief. Confusion.
The air rippled with it all.
So she gave everyone in Vegas what they truly wanted—a show.
Pandora slipped back into the shadows, delighted when a cry of shock filled the air. She reappeared down the street a little farther, landing on top of another car. And again, she melted back into the mist, enjoying the scene of the titans scrambling to follow her movements, to track her down, loving the way they squirmed. On and on she teleported through the darkness, moving from car to car, landing on a landmark, switching to a statue, any place where there was open air and a clear sight line she could follow—sticking clear of the crowded streets and the buildings where she wasn’t certain she could reappear in one piece.
More titans flooded the streets, slinking from their hiding places like a pack of wolves on the prowl. But Pandora was very nimble prey.
When the ground trembled, shaken by quaker hands, a hundred humans shouted in fear, some yelling earthquake, others ducking. But the chaos only added to Pandora’s cover. As she lost her footing, she shifted into the shadows, letting the darkness catch her, and reappeared on her feet a few cars down.
When a bolter sent lightning from the sky, she sidestepped it easily, but the car she’d been standing on fared worse. The tires blew out, sparks rained around the metal frame, and the airbags deployed.
If there were any tridents around, they didn’t bother to even try, despite her location next to some of the most famous waterworks in the world.
And the hunters, for all their strength and accuracy, could do little more than push the crowd aside and chase after her.
Pandora was unstoppable.
And drunk on the power.
And cackling so loudly she almost missed the sound of a helicopter thrumming overhead. There were multiple, in fact, media helicopters and police helicopters, and one that didn’t quite seem to fit, wobbling unsteadily near the edge of the Bellagio Hotel.
That’s my cue.
After one last look at the titans fumbling and stumbling to stop her, Pandora turned her gaze to the roof of the hotel, at least twenty stories up.
Piece of freaking cake.
And it was. Because when Sam had taught her how to use the darkness, he’d given her more than a way out of the prison—he’d given her confidence and fight and more power than she ever expected.
And this is only the beginning, she thought as she opened her eyes to find herself perched on the edge of the roof, wind whipping around her so loud she could hardly hear the chaos on the street. He said there’s more to teach me, so much more.
And though he wasn’t there and couldn’t have heard her, a shiver of anticipation rippled through the shadows still wrapped around Pandora—hers or his, she wasn’t sure. And in that moment, she didn’t care.
Her eyes found the helicopter, measured the distance. It was moving too much for her to confidently teleport into, so she did things the old-fashioned way. She jumped, using her titan muscles to push herself through the sky, and landed hard against the metal foot rail.
Inside, the pilot screamed, unable to see what had hit him.
Outside, Pandora hugged her body close to the metal pole and shimmied to the open passenger door as if she were a kid playing on a jungle gym and not a woman suspended hundreds of feet in the air. But if she didn’t look at the ground, it didn’t exist. She was completely focused on hauling herself inside and buckling her seat belt.
“Let’s go,” she said, letting her voice travel through the shadows as she remained invisible.
The pilot flinched, unsure.
Pandora poked Naya, prodding her into action. Invisible girls weren’t so threatening, but giant cats were. With one disdainful glance over her shoulder, the jaguar rolled up from her seated position and rested one menacing paw on the pilot’s shoulder.
He still didn’t move.
His fingers trembled on the controls.
The helicopter wavered, hovering uncertainly.
It dipped.
Naya revealed a sharp claw and scratched it gently along the terrified man’s neck, a soft yet undeniably threatening graze.
He gulped.
“Wh-where to?” he stuttered.
Naya turned, fuming at Pandora, waiting.
“As far north as we can get before the gas runs out.”
Chapter Nine
After about twenty minutes, Pandora couldn’t hold on to the shadows any longer. She was completely and utterly drained. And by that point, she had no doubt someone had noticed a helicopter going missing anyway. They were absolutely being tracked through a satellite feed, and even with her newfound power, she couldn’t make the entire moving vehicle disappear. Well, at least she didn’t think she could. And honestly, she had far more important things on her mind—like taking a nap.
Once they landed, she’d need her strength. And Naya had things under control. Sure, she was pissed at Pandora for putting her in this position, but her mere presence was threatening enough. Even sprawled across the front seat, lounging like a queen while licking her paw, Naya was terrifying. When she yawned, innocently flashing sharp canines, the pilot flinched so hard the entire helicopter jerked wildly. And from the worried looks he kept tossing in her direction, Pandora was as certain as she could be that he wasn’t going to do anything foolish anytime soon.
So she released her hold on the shadows and let her head fall against the side of the helicopter. Within moments, sleep overtook her.
Until a scream jolted her awake.
“What?” Pandora asked as her eyes snapped open and she blinked, clearing the grogginess away.
“We’re going down!” the pilot shouted.
“What?” Pandora yelled, realizing for the first time that the helicopter was losing altitude.
“I tried to tell your friend that we’re out of fuel—”
Naya roared, a deep, threatening sound that cut him off immediately.
Typical, Pandora thought. Nothing like the goddess being told she did something wrong to make her forget her whole we-shouldn’t-abuse-innocent-people spiel.
“Stop that,” Pandora chided, leaning forward between the seats. “What’s going on? Where are we?”
The pilot’s hands trembled as he pressed a few buttons on the dashboard. “We’re somewhere west of Salt Lake City, maybe as far north as Idaho, but we can’t go any farther. We’ve got to land now, or we’ll crash.”
“Then ignore the cat and—” A gust of wind hit and the helicopter dropped thirty feet in a single second, sending Pandora’s stomach into her throat. “Land, man! Land!”
The pilot took the controls, face set in concentration as an alert started to beep, a warning Pandora didn’t understand. She clutched the seats as they sank, jerking lower and lower, fighting against gravity as the engines started to sputter.
I’m a titan, she tried to remind herself. I’ve got super-speedy healing and rock-hard muscles, and I’m not so easy to kill.
But that wasn’t as reassuring as she hoped it would be when she was literally falling out of the sky.
“Almost, almost,” the pilot repeated.
The propeller started to whine, to slow.
They dropped.
Once.
Twice.
And slammed against soil.
“Oh, thank god,” Pandora said before she could stop herself.
Naya turned in her seat, liquid black fur moving as gracefully as ever, and tossed Pandora a look before jumping quite casually out of the machine.
I didn’t know a freaking werejaguar could have so much attit
ude, Pandora thought, wrinkling her nose at Naya’s turned back. Then again, cats are pretty much the divas of the animal kingdom…so yeah, it fits.
With a sigh, Pandora followed her out, unbuckling before stepping through the opened side door. She scanned the landscape, noticing the flat grassy plains and the shadows hinting at mountains on the horizon. Not a bad place for a crash landing, really. Thankfully, there were no trees, no lakes, no houses or people—just wide-open space.
“We should keep moving,” Pandora said, stepping next to Naya, already gently tugging on the shadows to pull them close.
A nudge stopped her.
Pandora looked down at the huge cat pawing at her leg. “Stop it. That’s annoying.” Naya didn’t stop. “What? What are you doing?”
The medium slash necromancer slash werejaguar swiveled her head toward the pilot, then turned her feline eyes back to Pandora and repeated the motion.
“Are you worried about him?”
She growled gently and stamped a paw.
Pandora tossed her attention over her shoulder, watching the man slip out of his pilot’s seat and start edging away from the helicopter, looking at them warily, even more terror than normal in his eyes. Crap, this is probably the part where he thinks we’re going to kill him to keep him silent or something. “Relax,” she called out. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
He paused and swallowed, nodding unconvincingly.
“No, really. I mean, I know you’re freaked out because she’s a jaguar and I can turn invisible, and you’re probably in shock or something. But we’re nice supernatural kidnappers. I promise,” she said, smiling. A furry head knocked into her hip, demanding a little less sass. What? I’m trying. After four years of life as a vampire, shutting off her humanity had sort of become second nature—especially when it came to humans. “Just stay with the helicopter, okay? Someone will be here to save you soon, probably within the hour. Which is why”—she paused, glaring pointedly at the black jaguar—“we really need to get going.”
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