PANDORA

by Rebecca Hamilton

  The woman lay on a bed, but she was not the first thing of which I took notice. The fluorescent lights overhead conspired with the sanitary white walls to make the room far too bright even with the protection of my sunglasses. I raised my hand to touch the wall, hesitating when I remembered this to be the room where I stitched Lydia’s wound all those years ago. “The more things change, the more they remain the same,” I mused aloud.

  Switching off the lights, I also locked the door before motioning forward.

  The woman barely stirred. I removed my sunglasses and folded them into my pocket. “My apologies,” I said, issuing the statement to her without knowing if she even understood me. “This hospital has been giving me a headache since I entered. Between the scent of you creatures and the stark white all around, I wonder how in the heavens anyone remains in this area without going mad.” Walking toward the bed, I pulled a chair close to where she laid and sat in it. My elbow rested on the arm of the chair and my chin settled in my hand while I studied her from my vantage point. “You certainly do look pale, I shall grant you that. Had I passed you on the street, I would have moved on to something with a trifle more substance. Herein lies the question, though. Who are you and why did they allow you to live?”

  Standing, I examined her closer. A thick bandage covered her neck and the sight of blood soaking through forced me to recoil and assemble my wits about me again. Indulging in a deep, steadying breath, I looked back at her and nodded. I cracked my knuckles as I had seen Monica do and touched the sides of her head while shutting my eyes to focus.

  Images slowly filtered toward me. At first, they made no sense and seemed to have no relevance toward anything in particular. The deeper I sank, though, the more form they gained; I saw the face of her attacker and shook my head in disgust as I recognized him from one of the area covens. The leaderless immortals were getting brazen and downright idiotic with their conquests. “Disgraceful things,” I said. Concentrating harder, I continued my pursuit into Miss Joann Griffith’s mind.

  Joann Griffith. Her name and other details emerged from the depths. Thirty years old. She told people she was twenty-five and worked as a legal secretary. No spouse. No children. She had been walking alone when attacked and left alive only for two reasons. For one, the vampire was a neophyte. Secondly, he had been interrupted by a man who subsequently called the paramedics. I frowned at the trauma wrought against the woman’s psyche. How many people had I sent into shock prior to ending their lives?

  “It would have been better had he finished you, Miss Griffith.” Leaning closer still, I ignored the tempting scent of her blood wafting toward me and whispered in her ear. “Wake up. The only monster in here is me and I am not going to harm you.”

  Joann blinked twice. I saw the lights switch on within her gaze and smiled, lifting my hands from her head. Once our eyes met, she gasped, using a surge of adrenaline to slide away from me in revulsion. “Who . . . ?” she began. Pausing, Joann swallowed hard. “Who the hell are you and what’re you doing in here?”

  “I am an ally and nothing more.” Stepping backward, I nodded. “Please, allow these people to treat you. You are safe now, Miss Griffith.”

  I turned to leave, but she interrupted, “Wait a minute.” She frowned when I looked at her again. “You’re one of those . . . things . . . aren’t you?”

  I perked an eyebrow. “If you mean a vampire, then the answer is yes.”

  “Why aren’t you attacking me, then?”

  “Because humans are off the menu for now. Consider yourself fortunate, I was a prodigious killer in my time.” Nodding, I glanced away momentarily. “I shall not bother you any further. I simply did not wish you in a catatonic state for the remainder of your days on account of my kind’s sloppy workmanship. The nurse shall be in to see you shortly.”

  I produced my sunglasses again and slipped them over my eyes. She nodded at me, still the most confused creature I had seen in quite some time, but far more lucid than when I entered. I flashed a quick, subdued grin at her and furrowed my brow when a small, tight smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It appeared as though she wished to speak. I waited patiently for her to summon the courage.

  Joann sighed. “I don’t know if I should even be saying this to you, but . . . Thank you.” The slight smile vanished. “I was trapped in a maze and . . . couldn’t find my way out. I knew I was dying. I was just waiting for . . . ”

  “ . . . It all to end?” I nodded. “I experienced it once, so I am familiar with the condition. Yours is the first story I have examined since regaining the inclination to empathize with a human. Thank you for allowing me that.”

  She nodded, but eyed me in a perplexed manner. “You’re welcome.”

  I offered her as much of a grin as I felt apt to muster and motioned for the exit. Joann did nothing to stop me, yet I could feel the weight of her gaze settle on my back until I shut the door between us. Chloe stood waiting on the other side. “What happened?” she asked as I turned to face her.

  Shrugging, I pointed back toward the room. “Your girl shall be fine. Her name is Joann Griffith and she has had a harrowing night. Allot her some time to work through what transpired before you label her a lunatic.”

  Chloe shook her head. “How do you know . . . ?”

  “I simply do, old friend. Remember, at times ignorance is bliss.” I paused. “With that, I shall depart.”

  “Wait.” Chloe sighed, glancing at the adjacent nurse’s station. Holding up a finger implying I should linger where I stood, she dashed toward her compatriots and conversed with one of them briefly, passing Joann’s chart to them. Then she jogged back as fast as her short legs would permit. “There, that’s been taken care of.” Shaking her head, she touched my arm and coaxed me toward a corridor. “Come on. It’s been five years. You could at least catch me up a bit.”

  I frowned as I glanced at her hand, wondering if I could ask her to kindly let go. “There is not much else to say, Chloe.”

  “Alright. Playing coy.” She sighed. Her arm finally lowered to her side. “I’ll at least let you know how things have been here. Sam and Dave are still around, although they’re usually on the day shift. Mark has off tonight. He probably would have freaked out if he saw you here.”

  The corner of my mouth curled upward despite myself. “The man was always afraid of his own shadow.”

  “Tell me about it. He still hits the ceiling anytime somebody codes.” Chloe continued peering straight ahead. We neared the waiting area by the emergency room entrance and stopped, turning to face each other. “Other than that, everybody’s gone their separate ways. Rashi and Maryanne both work in Jefferson. Bill’s somewhere in New Jersey. Have a whole new collection of interns and residents and the world’s still going to hell in a hand basket.”

  “The world does seem to do that, Chloe.” I glanced toward the automatic doors as something caught my eye. A few feet away, a group of men approached the hospital and a shiver ran up my spine in a manner I had never felt before. My already-pale complexion whitened while the hairs on the back of my neck stood aloft. In the background, I could faintly hear Chloe continue to speak, but my focus remained fixed on the doors as they parted and the first of the collective entered.

  “Pete? Pete, what the hell is the matter with”

  Without thinking, I took hold of Chloe. Forcing her away from the corridor, I pinned her to an adjacent wall. Her eyes widened. “What ar?”

  “Silence,” I whispered harshly as I released my hold on her. “Stay there and do not move. Do you hear me?”

  She nodded slowly. I cast a stern gaze at her, then walked toward the corridor again and peered around the corner. Ten men, if they could even be called that, gathered by the entrance. There were tall, strong, and by the way they glanced around the room, they gave the distinct impression they were not here for medical assistance. I watched one open his mouth to reveal sharp fangs hiding in slumber and their throats produced a collective growl, causing the humans gat
hered to stop cold and stare. “Bloody fucking wonderful,” I muttered. “A pack of emasculated ruffians. What a bed I have made for myself.”

  I sighed and looked toward Chloe again. Inching closer, I whispered, “Chloe, there are a group of dangerous beings in the waiting area. Do not walk anywhere near this corridor and do not allow them to see you, but I need you to procure something for me.”

  Her eyes shifted from the hallway back to me. “What do you mean ‘dangerous beings’?”

  “I have no time to explain. Fetch me anything sharp. Scalpels, preferably.”

  “Peter, you’re not going to”

  “Yes, I am.” I frowned. “Chloe, I am afraid the answers I wished you to be ignorant of shall be forced to come to light. I need you to trust me, though. Fetch me the scalpels and return swiftly, but do not allow them to see you. Are we clear?” She remained frozen in position. I shook my head. “Chloe, if you ever counted me a friend . . . ”

  “Alright.” Chloe swallowed hard and stepped away from the wall. She eyed me skeptically for a moment before hurrying toward one of the storage rooms and disappearing inside. I indulged in a steadying breath and focused my attention once more on the pack of vampires. Sorry bastards. They did not know what a gross error they had committed in coming there tonight, but soon would.

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on the assassin I had been no more than a week ago. With that, a little of Flynn rose to the surface and prepared for an attack.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I did not have to bore too far into the ringleader’s mind to learn his name was Mathias. He had been an elder in one of the area covens, but now led a pack of rogue immortals, evidence of a new epidemic within Philadelphia. Without masters, he and others like him had been set loose to create havoc amongst the populace.

  “Just fucking wonderful,” I said from my hiding place, speaking just below a whisper. I sighed and continued to watch, knowing myself to be largely responsible for this sordid mess.

  Mathais looked around the room, his lip curled in a snarl. “A late night snack before we go in, boys. What do you think?” he asked. Nine others stood beside him, all with fangs straining to descend judging from the tips I saw prominently displayed. Malevolent eyes fixed themselves on the humans gathered and the sight seemed to instill enough fear no one dared to move. This left them all little more than sitting ducks.

  “I detest the sick,” one shorter, more Victorian-looking vampire said. He called to mind a gross twisting of my late brother, which only caused me more discomfort with his presence. A quick glimpse into his mind revealed his name to be Christopher. “I always have to chase their blood with a bottle of wine.”

  “Ah, but there are plenty here who are healthy.” Mathias strolled ahead of the pack and nodded to the humans gathered before bending in a sweeping bow. “Greetings, inferior creatures, allow me to introduce myself to you.” He stood straight once more. “My name is Mathias and I am a vampire. No doubt you’ve already figured this out, but to make the point much clearer, I’m going to inform you of our intentions. We intend to feed and add to our ranks. I will allow anyone interested in being turned to step forward first. Then, we will rip the shit out of the rest of you invalids.”

  “What a magnificent proposal, Mathias. Do sign me up for that.”

  Mathias swung around. His eyes scanned me from sunglasses to dark suit as I emerged from my hiding place, an unspoken question lingering between us for the briefest of moments. I attempted not to relish it when his face paled with realization. “Flynn?” he asked, disbelief laden in his voice. “I thought you were dead.”

  Pacing forward, I folded my arms behind my back at waist-level. Each hand held a scalpel with more pressed against my back, tucked into my belt. But he did not need to know about those just yet. “Dead?” I chuckled. “Mathias, I have died so many times, I cannot begin to know the difference any longer. As for my corporeal form, I assure you I am no mere apparition.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why are you hiding amongst the humans?”

  I ceased walking and shrugged. “On occasion, I humor myself with a hobby. Immortality grows weary when one is not busy, does it not?” My eyes skimmed across the face of each mortal, insuring not one of them appeared about to do anything foolish. Their faces were marked by equal measures fear and confusion, but they stayed frozen in place. “Whatever the matter, I might ask what the lot of you think you are doing barging into a hospital of all the godforsaken places, and preying upon the infirmed. Does that not seem insulting to you?” I chuckled. “A pack of vampires so inept they must procure their meals from amongst the weak?”

  “Yes, well . . . I might ask you why you are here, then.”

  “TouchÉ.” I grinned, revealing the tips of my fangs. “If I came to feed, I would be as pitiful as the lot of you, but this is not why I am here.”

  “Oh yes?” He furrowed his brow. “And why are you here, then?”

  My grin turned wicked. Lowering my arms, I spared no chance for Mathias to see what I held before I deftly threw one scalpel for Christopher’s heart. It plunged deep into his chest from the velocity with which I threw it and within seconds, the Victorian relic fell to the ground as nothing more than dust. Assured of his demise even before my makeshift weapon found its target, I had already hurtled another into the chest of the next vampire in my sights. It killed him instantly as well.

  Sliding my hands behind my back, I plucked two more scalpels from their hiding place and grinned. “Believe it or not, Mathias, I am here to protect these creatures.”

  “You’ve lost your fucking mind.” He glanced at the vampires remaining. Then his eyes met mine just as his fangs finished descending. “You’ll protect nothing, you turncoat. There are eight of us remaining and only one of you.”

  “Oh good, you might give me a challenge, then.” I sneered. “Although, I highly doubt it.”

  They hissed and rushed at me en masse, no doubt with the theory their numbers might overwhelm me. The humans finally began to scatter, retreating away from the action as fast as they were able. I ran directly for the vampires, waiting until the last moment to drop to my knees and topple two of them over as though they were bowling pins. Springing to my feet, I plunged one of the scalpels into the chest of a vampire I had not downed, then turned and kicked another advancing behind me. The blow caused him to stagger, but he remained standing. I had my first challenger from amongst the pack.

  He took hold of the nearest chair and swung it in a violent arc aimed for my head. It forced me backward, but left him unguarded. I whipped a fist for him and kicked him to the ground before he could regroup. As he stood, however, I sensed an unfamiliar premonition.

  One of his compatriots was nipping at my heels.

  Shaking off the new extrasensory talent, I leaped onto an empty chair and aimed another kick square for the vampire’s jaw. The force of the impact sent him flying backward. He landed hard onto the tired floor, sprawled out and at my mercy. Stepping down, I plunged a scalpel into his chest before he could recover. He transformed into dust, leaving me holding the improvised weapon.

  When I lifted my eyes from his remains, I counted my remaining adversaries. Six. My first opponent had rejoined the others still crowed around Mathias and I smirked as they studied me with obvious intimidation in their gazes.

  “Peter!” A female voice called out behind me.

  I turned. Monica stood close to the corridor where Chloe and I had been hiding a few minutes prior. She had crouched and lifted her skirt, revealing a sheathed knife strapped to her thigh. Pulling the blade from its holder, she tossed it toward me. I caught it and lifted an eyebrow at her.

  She shrugged. “Hey, you were the one who suggested I protect myself,” she said. Then, Monica pointed toward my opponents.

  I swung around in time to see Mathias run for me. He leaped to attempt a tackle, but I crouched down on the floor fast enough for him to miss. Another came at me as he sailed past and I plunged the knife into
his chest, releasing my grip on it so I could angle myself to fire the scalpel in my other hand at another of Mathias’s pack. Both descended to the ground as ashes, which left only four remaining.

  Mathias charged for me again. I deflected that harried action, throwing him onto the floor where he landed atop the remnants of one of his compatriots. Standing, I watched as one of the others confiscated Monica’s knife from the pile of ashes it had created. He attempted an untrained, but accurate, retaliatory throw, that I caught by the hilt. “Many thanks.” I sent the blade hurtling back at the vampire with a practiced flick of my wrist. It flew as it was meant to; with enough speed he was unable to catch it despite his attempt to recreate my feat.

  The knife sank deep into his chest, and then hit the floor with a clank covered in ash. Mathias came to a shaky stand and glared at me, but I laughed in response. I had one scalpel remaining tucked behind my back and the knife lay on the ground with three vampires remaining. “I could present you a chance to surrender,” I said, a slow, devious grin tugging at the corners of my mouth. “You know me, though, Mathias. I am hardly the type to permit anybody to walk away from their encounters with me.”

  “Yes, Flynn the killer,” he said, hunched in a defensive posture. His eyes remained fixed on me. “I must say, I’m impressed. You’re every bit as formidable as your reputation.”

  “You flatter me, sir.”

  Mathias relaxed his posture marginally. I tilted my head, assessing him. “Such a skilled assassin shouldn’t bother with underlings like me,” he said, lifting his hands in an almost plaintive manner. “We’re only vagabonds, hardly the type of target worthy of a man of your skill. Let us be on our way and we promise not to return.”

  I grinned, not bothering to hide my amusement. He was not the first to ever attempt such a tactic and probably would not be the last. “Dregs such as you do sully my name. You have forced my hand against you, however.”