PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Oh no.” Lydia lifted one of Liam’s arms and draped it across her shoulders. “Come on. I’m going to lay you down on my bed so we can take a look at you. Can you make it?”

  “I’ve made it this far.” Liam winced, leaning part of his weight onto Lydia. “Bastard. I wish I knew why he just ripped into me. I should be dead.”

  “The vampires in that coven are all acting insane. I’ve never heard of anything like this before.”

  “Well, they’ve managed to do the impossible, so they’re probably feeling bloody smug about it.” Liam walked into the bedroom with Lydia’s assistance. I stood, following right behind them and becoming all too aware of the mistake I was about to make.

  Lydia lowered him onto her bed and began taking a better look at his injuries. “Liam, I’m going to grab my first aid kit and a few washcloths. Take off your jeans and shirt, if you can.”

  “I’ll give it the old college try.” Liam winced as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “I don’t know if there’s much you can do, dear. We might have to wait it out until sunrise before I can check into the hospital.”

  “I know.” Lydia walked into the bathroom and pulled out a first aid kit from beneath her sink. I recalled giving it to her in jest, an allusion to what we coined our ‘first date’ and could not suppress the frown at seeing her need to use it. “I’ll do what I can for you here,” Lydia said, placing the kit next to her sink and turning for the linen closet. “But then, I’m calling Peter.”

  “Would it be safe to pull him into this?”

  “I’ll tell him to come in the morning.” She pulled out a stack of washcloths and tossed them in the sink. “If we have to, we’ll call an ambulance and have him meet us at the hospital.”

  “Alright.” Liam grunted in pain as he pulled off his shirt and started on the button of his pants. “What are you going to tell him?”

  Lydia hesitated. She turned on the water and immersed the washcloths in silence. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “He’s still in the dark about everything going on, in more ways than one.”

  “Sometimes, it takes seeing to believe.” Liam gingerly slid his jeans down past his hips before giving up and settling against the bed again. “Fucking vampire. I’m afraid I’ve done all I can do.” He gazed toward the doorway to the bathroom. “Lydia, every seer I’ve ever met spends the first two decades of their life in blissful ignorance, and probably many of those just as skeptical as your Peter. He will believe one day, I promise.”

  “He might not have enough time.” Lydia walked back into the bedroom with her materials and placed them on her nightstand. Picking up one of the wet washcloths, she dabbed at one of Liam’s wounds. “I think we should draw out his powers. Bring him into protective custody and lay it all out to him. The vampires are going to keep this up if we wait for the High Council to send another seer.”

  “Lydia, we can’t.” He winced. “We have to be sensitive to the natural order. Drawing out a seer’s powers before their time is a dangerous game. There are scales which need to stay balanced.”

  “But you said it yourself, Liam. They’re acting smug and we both know they’ve become dangerous.” She frowned, wiping at his chest. “Damn, he got you good.”

  “I still would like to know why the bloody hell he left me alive.”

  “I don’t know. But Peter . . . I’ve sensed something off about him for a while. He’s been acting funny when I see him. He’s a lot shorter with me and a lot more . . . Well, we even . . . ” She paused, and then shook her head. “Sorry, that’s too personal. Anyway, if we don’t draw out his powers, they’ll not only kill us, they’ll do God only knows what with Peter. He doesn’t see it coming.”

  “You think the demons mean to turn him?”

  Lydia nodded. “I’ve caught him talking to this vampiress . . . ” She trailed off and sighed, tears forming in her eyes. “She looks at him like some trophy, some pet she wants to have and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it. She would have killed me if she knew I was watching.”

  Liam frowned. “If you’ve known you have a seer on your hands, you shouldn’t have gotten romantically involved with him. The life of a seer isn’t an easy one. This won’t be the first time you’ll see him in the middle of danger, dear.”

  “This is different, though.” Lydia set down the washcloth and raised her hand to touch the pendant dangling from her neck. “He gave this to me for my birthday. Do you know how frightened I am? I put a spell on it to offer him protection in case that vampiress kills me. I keep seeing my death and I know it’s going to happen before I get to be his watcher.” She sighed. Her tone of voice turned entreating. “The natural order’s flown out the window, Liam. Let me get Peter in tomorrow and let’s finally tell him the ”

  The front door slammed open, interrupting them. Both Lydia and Liam gazed past my invisible form into the other room. I could only shiver, knowing whom this was. Far more than that, I found myself trapped in the surreal notion that I knew what he meant to do. And regardless of the fact that this was me, I could not do a single thing to stop him. Lydia whispered, “Oh dear God, is it them?”

  Liam could only shake his head before their attacker entered the room.

  Lydia froze when she saw me standing there, clutching a butcher knife with a white-knuckle grip. “Oh no. No, Peter . . . ” she said, but as I regarded my past self I saw murder pouring from his gaze evil glinting in his eyes and knew I was seeing Flynn for the first time. Every person I murdered over the course of five years would have recognized the being standing there. Before I ever became an assassin, I had realized my dark side. This would be his maiden voyage.

  At first, I turned away in revulsion, but was compelled to look again when Liam shot to his feet and hobbled forward despite his injuries. He struggled to pull up his pants, tripping in the effort. “Peter, stop!” he said. “You don’t know what you’re doing.” He came to his feet, but my past self charged forward, looking to intercept the perceived interloper first.

  “No, Peter! This isn’t what you think!” Lydia yelled, her hands coming to her mouth when I thrust the knife forward, plunging it into Liam’s stomach. This wound alone would have been mortal, but my past self was not yet satisfied. He removed the blade only to slit Liam’s throat.

  Lydia began to tremble. She stood as I turned my sights on her and all I could do was watch as my past self advanced toward her. She looked down at her former mentor in shock. “Oh God. Liam . . . ”

  Fury overtook the mirror image I no longer recognized. He thrust the knife deep into Lydia’s chest and looked her in her eyes as she gasped and gazed back at him, a single tear trickling down her cheek. “I’m so sorry, Peter,” she whispered.

  “Burn in hell,” I said. My past self stared at her coldly while she fell to his feet.

  I could no longer watch in silence. “No!” I shouted, running forward and collapsing next to Lydia. Tears streamed down my face as I touched her dead body, trying to feel her skin and will her back to life. My inability to so much as stroke her hair only served to break my heart further. “Why did I do this to you?” I asked, raising both hands to my face. “Oh God, why did I not see it before?”

  “Peter the blind. Sight, but no vision.”

  I looked up when I heard the voice. My past self had vanished, leaving me alone in the room with the two corpses who were bleeding out on the carpet. I furrowed my brow when I saw neither body speaking, and then glanced around again. “Who is there?” I asked.

  A familiar voice emerged, entreating me back to the present.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I’m sorry I did this to you, Peter, but it was the only way I could reach you. You were lost and I had to get you out of there somehow.”

  Opening my eyes, I discovered belatedly that I had removed my sunglasses. “Shit,” I said, clenching them shut while groping around the floor. When my fingers found something hard and plastic, I picked up my sunglasses and thrust them onto my face. Then, I l
ifted my lids once more.

  Monica stood in front of me, frowning, again with an emerald-colored scarf tied around her neck. The same shade as Lydia’s eyes as my eyes now probably as well. “I won’t blame you if you hate me,” she said, her voice soft and lacking its normally present sarcastic edge. “It was time for you to see the truth, though, and I knew you wouldn’t believe it coming from me. This was the only way I could get through to you.”

  I regarded Monica, noting distantly that her presence no longer annoyed me. Rather, she seemed a sight for sore eyes. “Monica,” I said, my voice sounding weak. “What have I done?”

  She closed the distance between us and crouched by my side. Her hand rested on my shoulder. “Peter, you’ve been lost for a while. You’ve been controlled by a powerful vampire who”

  “I remember it, Monica. You do not have to explain.” I brought my hands to my head, struggling to make heads or tails out of all the memories crowding in on me. Acts I remembered committing; remembered, even what I had been thinking and feeling while committing them. People, places, and events that had been a part of the past five years. Victims, innocents. Sinners. Vampires.

  Vampires.

  Oh God, I was a vampire.

  It was a fact I knew quite well something I had even thought to myself mere moments prior but the recollection of my acts only served to bring this observation to the surface again. It felt as though I had woken from a long sleep to discover these fangs I now possessed and the insatiable temptation I harbored to use them. I knew what terror I had wrought with them. Flynn. That was what they called me. The monster residing inside my body. The monster who was me.

  “My head is swimming,” I said. “I cannot make any sense of this.”

  Monica nodded. “Like looking at a two-sided mirror, only with different reflections.”

  I nodded. “Precisely.” Looking up at her, I frowned. “Who am I?”

  “You’re a man waking up from possession, Peter. Do you see what I mean now?” She paused to sigh. “You’ve been manipulated by these people. They’ve called you a son and brother, but even Robin here was part of the deception for a while.”

  “He tried to stop it.”

  “I know he did.” A soft, sympathetic grin surfaced on her face. “Even vampires can have a conscience sometimes.”

  I blinked. “Is that what I am now? A vampire with a conscience?”

  Monica sighed. “You’re . . . a little too unique for a category.”

  “You are calling me Peter. Am I Peter again?”

  “I don’t know. I guess that’s for you to decide.”

  “I was tricked.” I furrowed my brow, my speech mirroring the jumbled progression of my thoughts. “They tricked me into killing Lydia because she was protecting me.” Gazing at Monica, I studied her, confused. “You are a watcher as well?”

  Monica patted my shoulder and stood. “Come on, Peter. Let’s talk somewhere else about this stuff. I don’t know when Sabrina’s going to figure out you’re missing and your mind’s too fragile for her to see you this way.”

  I nodded, coming to a stand. My limbs felt shaky and the room around me seemed liable to start spinning, so I clutched onto Monica’s shoulder as I took my first few steps. “I should retrieve my weapons,” I said.

  Monica nodded. “I’ll grab the ones from the other side of the room. You do what you can over here, okay?”

  “Alright.” I glanced down at the floor, picking up my katana first and sliding it into its sheath. Not too far from there laid the remains of what had been my brother. My stomach twisted, forcing me to look away so I could continue scavenging for my remaining blades.

  I found two of my knives closer to the double doors at the front of the meeting room. Monica met me where I stood, waiting patiently for me to holster my weapons before handing me my short sword and remaining throwing knife. She held out my trench coat, but I stole a moment to produce the sheathed knife from behind my back after securing the other blades into place. I passed it to her while accepting the coat. “Please keep this for now,” I said, threading my arms through the sleeves. “Just in case you need it for protection.”

  “From what?” she asked, taking the weapon.

  “From me.” I gave her no chance to respond before lumbering forward, heading for the now-opened back exit. She jogged to catch up with me, and in a matter of moments we found ourselves outside.

  Neither of us spoke at first. The short, young sorceress and tall, male vampire strode through back alleys and crossed carefully from one shadow to the next while making our way through Philadelphia. As I regarded the city around us, I saw it through changed eyes. The vitality of the mortal population beat like a pulse of possibility, with the electricity of life running through each person as a current. It was something my vampire side was blind to, but I became aware of through my rediscovered humanity. Yet, it communicated to me I still stood apart from these beings who had once been my peers.

  “It’s the sight,” Monica said, breaking the silence. She looked up at me. “A seer’s gifts have always been meant for their protection. I’m sure it was hard to grasp before.”

  I nodded and allowed the quiet to overtake us again. Monica honored my implicit request and kept her observations to herself for the remainder of our excursion. It only took a few minutes more for us to find our way to a house nestled on the northern edge of Center City. I perked an eyebrow as she jogged up a short flight of stairs. “A new hiding place?” I asked.

  She nodded while producing a set of keys. “Yeah, the other place wasn’t safe, what with coven mistresses knowing my address and all.” Monica flashed a grin at me, then unlocked the door and swung it open. I watched her stroll inside, but paused at the entry, refusing to take another step.

  Monica looked back at me and perked an eyebrow. “What is it, Peter?”

  I frowned. “Are you certain you trust me enough to allow me to enter?”

  She nodded. “I do for now. Come inside and close the door.” She waited for me to do as she instructed, then held up the knife, still grinning in a disarming manner. “I’ll keep this close to me, just in case.”

  “Might not be a bad idea.” Stepping past the entryway, I stripped off my coat and draped it across the back of a dilapidated couch. One piece at a time, my arsenal of weapons fell to the ground until it left me clad in only my black shirt and pants. I settled into the sunken cushions and sighed as I reached for the frames of my sunglasses. The dark living room afforded me the chance to uncover my eyes, so I placed the dark lenses atop an adjacent end table, relaxing as much as possible.

  Monica strolled to the doorway separating the living room from the kitchen. “You didn’t feed before all that, did you?”

  “No, I did not,” I said, looking at her. “Nor do I care to right now.”

  “Well, all the same, you should have something. The next few nights aren’t going to be daisies and roses for you.” She sighed and I watched as she walked into the kitchen and plucked a glass from the cupboard. She set it onto the counter, and then rolled up her sleeve first before unsheathing my knife. Monica winced as she cut a gash into her arm. Blood ran into the glass.

  “Monica, please do not ”

  “It’s okay.” She indulged in a deep breath and allowed the rivulet of crimson to continue filling the glass. I fought against the fangs wanting to descend at the sight. “And in case you’re wondering,” she said, “I didn’t cast any protection spells, so I’m not trying to poison you.”

  “It was the furthest thing from my mind, actually. I doubt you would have brought me here simply to trick me.”

  “Good. Maybe we’re starting to trust each other.” Monica slid her arm across the rim of the glass before setting down my knife. Using her now-freed hand to untie the scarf around her neck, she wound the silken fabric around her arm and knotted it tightly into place. Her good hand took hold of the glass. She walked back into the living room and handed it to me. “It’s not much, but it’ll take the ed
ge off.”

  I accepted the glass and drank down its contents. Pausing for a moment afterward to allow my head to clear, I fought my fangs once more and drew a deep breath inward until the heady rush passed. I opened my eyes without knowing I had closed them. “I thought you said we could survive without blood for a few weeks,” I said, directing my focus back to her.

  “You can, but you have to condition yourself for it first.” She frowned. “And I wasn’t talking about a vampire who’s both as young as you and as used to feeding the way you are.”

  “How will I manage this, then? Living this way? Even if my mind comes to terms with my humanity once more, my physiology shall make the struggle that much more difficult.”

  Monica nodded, sitting across from me in a chair resembling the couch on which I sat. “I’ve had to think about that. Not that I was counting on a miracle, but I figured if I managed to reach you, I’d have to help take care of you somehow.” She sighed. “I’m not going to lie to you, Peter. The next few days are going to be difficult for us both while we figure things out.”

  “You do not intend to allow me to stay here, do you?” I frowned. “Do not trust me under the same roof. You could be signing your own execution order.”

  “We don’t have a choice.” Monica eyed me in a deliberate manner. “I’m your watcher. I knew Lydia before she died and she made me promise I would take her place if something happened to her. Lydia loved you a lot, Peter. Poets could have written books full of poems with the things she told me about you.” The smile, which had begun to surface, dissipated quickly.

  I read her thought and nodded. “Except that your promise has forced you to look after a bloodthirsty assassin. Not your friend’s lover.”

  Monica issued a wan smile. “I guess we have to play the hand we’re dealt, right? Both you and me.” She stood and paced around the room as though floating on a pocket of air. “They say there’s a first time for everything. I just keep trying to tell myself everything happens for a reason. I don’t understand The Fates, but there was some method to their madness when they let you be turned. We just have a few more challenges to overcome.” Her eyes found mine again. “We have to overcome them, though, Peter. We have no choice. I can’t let Sabrina get her hands on you and you can’t step backward now after finally making it this far. You’re too dangerous and have too valuable of a gift.”