Freeze

by Kaitlyn Davis

  Pandora watched her mother’s fingers spin and move, but she couldn’t see, couldn’t understand. “No, Mommy.”

  Pandora yawned, eyes growing heavy, and her mother saw. She folded Pandora’s fingers over her palm and kissed them gently, then eased from the bed. She tucked Pandora in again before kneeling to kiss her brow.

  “That’s okay. You did wonderfully. We can try again tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay.” She nodded, already falling asleep.

  Pandora blinked, eyes clearing as the vision passed, as the memory faded away and the real world returned—the world of white smoke and ghosts and the mother who’d left her alone, who’d stopped trying to save her daughter. Until now.

  “You told me the stories once a week for six months,” Pandora whispered hoarsely.

  “I did, and then it became too much. I wasn’t strong enough.”

  “You weren’t strong enough to do what needed to be done,” Pandora murmured, smirking at her father’s words. Oh, how they plagued her. “You weren’t strong enough to fight for your daughter, and you weren’t strong enough to kill her either. So you stopped. You just…stopped everything.”

  Her mother’s wispy frame caved in. “I couldn’t, Pandora. I loved you so much. I still do. I couldn’t become like your father, and I couldn’t—I just couldn’t.”

  “You ran,” Pandora said, not bitter but understanding. “You ran just like I did. Only your way was a little more permanent.”

  “You never did guess the shape I was drawing on your palm,” her mother stated, gaze intense. “Guess now, Pandora.”

  “Huh?” she asked, brows coming together.

  Her mother gestured, so Pandora held out her hand. Pearly-white fingers traced softly against her skin, spinning in circles, flattening out to a line, then jutting to the side in a ridged rectangle. Over and over her mother moved.

  Pandora lifted her free hand.

  She stretched her fingers back, to the skin at the base of her neck, and moved them over the scarred tissue below her hairline, the mark she’d been branded with what felt like hours ago. But only minutes had passed. And those minutes had changed everything.

  “It’s a key,” Pandora said, eyes widening with sudden understanding. “A key!”

  Her mother nodded, unable to speak.

  She shook her head. Pandora’s box. Pandora’s story. Persephone’s balancing act. The woman who’d been blinded by love. The man who’d tricked her. The vision of holding Sam within a fire, of keeping him trapped in the flames, of keeping him contained. Her sacrifice, over and over again. The darkness sinking into her father’s skin. His teeth flashing in the eerie blue light. The brand on her neck—a key. The titan tattoo—twelve starbursts all connected, forming a lock. Jax’s eyes on that night four years ago, so pained, so trapped, because he knew. He understood.

  She was the key.

  The key to a prison that could never be opened.

  To a person who could never be set free.

  Everything flooded together. Merging and molding, weaving into a picture that was slowly becoming sharper and sharper in her mind.

  And then her world exploded.

  Literally.

  Chapter Eighteen

  A flash of lightning sliced through her mother’s ghost, and the ground burst in a wave of rock and dirt that sent Pandora flying. She tumbled head over heels, then rolled to a stop ten feet away. The white light vanished. Her mother disappeared. The sky crackled, and another spike of energy flared, zipping toward the earth.

  Bolters, she suddenly realized. Titans.

  “Go!” she shouted to Naya, who was splayed across the ground only a few feet from where Pandora lay.

  The medium looked up, eyes the glowing amber of the cat, no longer the white magic of the necromancer. She hesitated, holding Pandora’s gaze, unsure. Because even though she’d said she would leave, not everyone in the world was accustomed to abandonment. Not everyone could turn off the guilt and the shame that came with leaving a friend behind.

  For the first time in Pandora’s life, there was someone who wanted to stay, who wanted to fight beside her, fight for her. She’d dreamed of this moment for a long time, wondered what it would feel like to know she wasn’t alone, that someone out there had her back. But it wasn’t what she imagined. Instead of hope, her stomach filled with dread. Because she thought of Naya, and the way her throat closed tight when she spoke about her brother, and the way her expression lifted when she’d heard about the cure for vampirism.

  “Go,” Pandora mouthed, unable to bring herself to say the word.

  Because it was one thing to know someone was willing to make the sacrifice, and another thing to actually let them. Pandora had shouldered many burdens in her life, but she wouldn’t shoulder this guilt. She couldn’t be so selfish.

  “Go!” Pandora shouted.

  Naya held her gaze for one more second. Then she turned her back on Pandora and shifted into the jaguar midleap as she disappeared into the forest behind her. It was the first time Pandora had ever been happy to watch somebody leave. She held on to that joy as she stared up at the sky, letting the setting sun warm her cold body as the truth washed over her.

  I’m the key.

  The words felt right.

  Finally, after so long, she had her answer. The truth became clear. She was the key, the titans were the prison, and Sam was the beast trapped within.

  So obvious.

  And yet…it was Sam.

  Sam who’d saved her life.

  Sam who’d taught her how to use her power.

  Sam who’d set her free.

  Who’d taken her to the wolves, who’d danced with her beneath a blanket of moonlight, who’d made her feel more joy and acceptance in that single memory than she’d ever felt in her entire life. Who’d loved her for a thousand years.

  Sam.

  Her Sam.

  The ground began to thunder with pounding titan feet, and Pandora did the only thing she could think of, something that was so natural to her she’d never understood how unnatural it truly was. She called upon the darkness and disappeared, wrapping the shadows around her, melting into the abyss. Sinking deeper and deeper, she abandoned the world, because somewhere in this starless night, Sam was waiting, watching. And she needed to hear it from his lips, to hear him explain that he was just like everyone else. That he was using her, lying to her, playing a game. That he never cared about her. That all he ever wanted was to be set free.

  “Come out,” she ordered, voice calm and controlled.

  Sam emerged from the depths, mist rolling off him like black smoke, until his golden hair was bright, his blue eyes even brighter.

  “Who are you, Sam?” she asked, staring at him unflinchingly. “Who are you really?”

  He stepped closer, lifting his palms to her cheeks. They were warm, solid, not the half-touch she was used to but the real touch of a man, a living, breathing man. The tattoo on the back of her neck tingled, prickling with energy, a magic she didn’t yet understand.

  “I’m Sam,” he murmured, searching her expression. “Your Sam, like I’ve always been.”

  His voice was magnetic, pulling her toward him, making her want to believe him. Before she could stop herself, Pandora found she was sinking into his touch, letting him hold her, shivering as he brushed his thumb over her skin.

  She stepped back, clearing her head.

  He let her.

  “Tell me your real name,” Pandora demanded, forcing her tone to remain strong.

  Sam closed his eyes, dropping his shoulders. The shadows curled around him, as though providing comfort. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

  “You didn’t want me to find out at all,” Pandora growled. “You told me not to search for answers. You told me to let it go, to choose you. You told me so many things, everything, except for the truth. And I want it now, Sam, because I know you can. You’re not bound like my mother was, bound like Jax is. You’re just afraid I won
’t like what you have to say.”

  “That’s not true,” he said with a sigh, shaking his head ever so slightly. “We’ve been here before, Pandora. You just don’t remember. They won’t let you remember, but the walls they built are crumbling down. And the longer you wait, the more you’ll see for yourself. That’s all I want, for you to see our story with your own eyes, not to hear it from someone else’s lips, not to listen as it’s twisted into something ugly.”

  “Then help me,” she countered. “If that’s what you really want, help me see. Tell me who you are, what you are. Because I finally know what I am, Sam. I’m the key—the key to your prison.” His eyes flashed with surprise. Until that moment, she hadn’t been sure she’d guessed right—but the truth was undeniable, etched in the grooves of his petrified face. “So tell me who you are, Sam. Tell me why the world is so desperate to stop me from setting you free.”

  His face smoothed out, gaze softening as he lifted his hand toward her, stopping when she pulled away. His arm dropped back down, dispersing the shadows as it fell, heavy. “You always did call me Sam. I wasn’t lying about that. I wasn’t lying about anything, not in the way you suspect.”

  Pandora didn’t speak.

  She was waiting, waiting for the honesty he owed her.

  Sam took a deep breath, the burden of a thousand years weighing him down. “My true name is Samael, though I’ve been called many things. For a long time, I was known as the blind god.” He paused, the corner of his lip lifting as he shook his head. “But that wasn’t quite true. I’m not the blind god. I’m the god of his blind spot. I’m the god of darkness, cursed to live in a world that worships the light.”

  Sam lifted his hand, folding his fingers through the shadows that clung to his golden skin, wrapping around him in a protective shield, loving almost, as though the ebony was part of him, belonged to him. The darkness had never called to her like that, not in the same way.

  Because it doesn’t belong to me, she realized, watching the smoke deftly follow Sam’s every move. It never has.

  “Why did you share it with me?” she asked softly, mesmerized by the way his muscles clenched, the simple grace with which he moved. “Your darkness.”

  “Because you saw the beauty of my world in a way no one else ever could,” he said, hand dropping, eyes lifting so they held hers captive. Pandora inched forward, lured by the desolate quality of his voice, by the silent promise in his gaze. “I wasn’t lying when I told you why I fell in love with you. You were the first person to show me the true splendor of endless night—that it provided endless opportunities with which to dream. And that’s what we did once upon a time. We dreamed of a world too good to be true. And in those final moments before we said goodbye so many years ago, I gave you a piece of my darkness because I never wanted to see you stop dreaming.”

  “Who were we, Sam? The truth?” she asked, fighting the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, to press her palm to his chest to let him know he wasn’t alone. “You told me that we fell in love in a place where love wasn’t allowed, that we were caught. But there’s more. I know there is.”

  “Everything I told you was true,” he said, clasping the hand she hadn’t realized she’d extended toward him. Their fingers entwined instinctually, drawn together, fitting perfectly as though made for each other. “We were angels, once, a long time ago. Soldiers, protectors. Some might say slaves. We were gifted with more power than you can even imagine, and in return, we pledged our loyalty. And everything was fine until humans came. They were vulnerable, weak, with short lives and small minds. They had no power. But they were gifted with something far greater, something I began to covet—the opportunity to love, to create families, to choose their own lives. While you and I were hiding, only able to touch within the shadows of my power, they were free to do as they pleased. And they had no idea what a gift they’d been given. They took it for granted. And he took us for granted. So we rebelled.”

  Sam tried to pull his hand back, but Pandora held on, clutching his fingers, because the more he spoke and the more they touched, the more something began to unlock within her. “How, Sam?”

  “We abandoned the heavens. We fell to earth because we wanted to be free. All we wanted was to be free. But it was forbidden. So we fought, a terrible war that no one could win. And we did things, I did things…” he trailed off, shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut as his face filled with pain. “We became monsters. And they became monsters, too. But no one remembers that because they won. And the winner gets to write the story, Pandora. Remember that.”

  A knot of terror filled the pit of her stomach, expanding more and more the tighter she squeezed Sam’s hand. He pulled away again, but she wouldn’t let go. For the first time, he was real, and he was being real, and she refused to let go.

  “What did you do, Sam?” she asked, throat clamping as the image of her father seeped into the forefront of her thoughts. His fangs. His wild, uncontrolled gaze. His hunger. All because of the shadow she’d sent into his heart. “What did you do?”

  “Something I would never do again, and you know that. If you could only just remember, you’d see that I’ve changed. Because I was blinded by rage and vengeance, but I’m not anymore. Your prison worked the way you always hoped it would. It gave me time to think, to change, to understand that my power can be used for good.”

  “What. Did. You. Do?” Pandora forced the words through her teeth one by one as her hand shook, holding on to him so tightly her muscles began to spasm.

  “I tried to destroy them,” he whispered, voice as dark as the power swirling around him. “Because they had what I craved. What we craved. And I wanted to take it from them. But I sacrificed in vain. Because humans have everything, yet they still want more. They’re never satisfied, and it’s made them selfish, and that is a different sort of darkness, a darkness of their own making. And it’s done far more to ruin them than I ever could.”

  The back of her neck burned.

  And her hand burned where she held him.

  A memory pounded on the door of her soul, demanding to be set free.

  Sam backed away. The shadows curled around him, surrounding him in wave after wave of ebony, trying to carry him deeper. Before, she’d thought some unseen force had been tearing him away, but she realized now that he had always commanded the shadows. The darkness could never force him anywhere. No. He was running. Running from the truth. Running before she had a chance to really see what he was. But she wouldn’t let him fade away into the darkness. She wouldn’t let him disappear. Not this time. Not again.

  Pandora reached for Sam and held him by the shoulders.

  The air began to flare.

  Fire scorched her skin, invisible flames.

  They’d been there before, in the center of a raging inferno.

  His blue eyes glimmered with both panic and surrender.

  But not remorse.

  Not regret.

  And deep in the darkest corners of his pupils, she finally saw what he’d been trying so hard to keep concealed—she saw the monster within.

  Sam stood in the center of a bloody battlefield with his back to her, ebony wings unfurled, sharp as razors. Blood dripped from those onyx feathers, falling onto the carpet of bodies beneath his feet, a sea of limbs and feathers and gore. He stilled, as though sensing her presence. He turned his head slowly, golden hair falling over his shoulder as he looked back, eyes bluer than the cloudy sky above their heads. His wings dipped, revealing the rest of his face—the red stains painted across his cheeks and his chin, the teeth sinking down beyond his lip, the tan area around his mouth where he’d licked the blood of his kills clean. Holding her gaze for a moment, he pumped his wings, ignoring the russet river that fell away as he rose. And then the shadows closed around him, taking him to a place she could not follow.

  Pandora blinked.

  The image faded away, replaced by another.

  Sam loomed at the edge of a wood, standing in a spo
t untouched by the bright light of day. He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. His gaze was hard. His muscles were harder, rigid and unyielding as they clenched. His hands were in fists. His feet were in a fighting stance. His eyes looked beyond her, to an enemy she couldn’t see. His wrath was palpable, suffocating as it traveled across the field and slammed into her like a physical weight.

  The shadows moved for him, curling out from underneath those ebony wings extended from each shoulder. They undulated, coiling around the trees, over the grass, spreading wider and wider—a living, breathing beast of darkness.

  Sam’s nostrils flared. The edges of his lips rose in a sinister smile.

  The feathers at the bottom of his wings began to flutter as the shadows billowed. Shapes emerged from the darkness, forming into monsters, creatures twisted in evil. They catapulted out of the ebony mist, charging into the light, hungry for the taste of human flesh. She recognized them—the mistakes, the accidents. They’d been discarded to the darkness long ago, twisted by it, and now they longed for the life they’d been denied.

  The demons and beasts Sam had once fought to contain were now his weapons, and he grinned as he released them upon the world.

  Pandora stepped back, horrified.

  She didn’t need to see more.

  But there was nowhere she could go to escape the truth descending swiftly upon her. She blinked, trying to force the memories away, but another came.

  A black cloud filled air that had been empty moments before, forming into the shape of a man, of a monster. The shadows fell away as Sam returned to the earth, pushing his power back, ebony wings snapping wide.

  Behind her, a woman screamed.

  A child began to cry. Then two. Three. More.

  She ran to Sam and threw her hands against his chest, pleading with him to stop, that it had to end, that it was over. But his blue eyes were blinded to her words—he could not see. He was no longer the man he used to be, the soft man, the dreamer, the one who loved. Hate had filled his heart, anger had rattled his bones, and vengeance had changed him. So she fought, pushing with her fists. But while the fall had made him strong, she’d grown weaker, and she couldn’t stop him as he lifted his hand and held it before him.