Authors: J.C. Daniels
Flames danced all around each of the pictures. Not a calming sort of image, really.
No, the entire thing made me think of power. Death. Chaos. Destruction.
I swallowed as something worked free in my memory. The very idea was enough to turn my gut to ice, but…come on. That was myth, right?
But even as I tried to tell myself that, a cold sweat slicked my back as I bent over the keyboard.
“It’s just a myth, Kit,” I told myself. But I had to be smart, and check.
I clenched my jaw and then typed in another search.
The search engine didn’t even waste time on
that
search. It immediately brought up the very last thing I wanted to see; in
theory,
it was supposed to be a box, right?
I’d hoped I’d see a corrected search.
But what I saw were images, artistic renderings…and many of them depicted a woman.
The bottom of my stomach dropped out as I saw the heading of the very first text result, followed by the neat little summary underneath.
Pandora’s Box wasn’t actually a box, but a vase
…
Chapter Fourteen
Justin walked in the next morning and stopped dead in his tracks.
“Wow. You look like shit. Did you
sleep
?”
I shot him a dark, ugly look and flipped him off. “Did you sell that coin yet?”
“Ah…I’ve got a couple of buyers lined up. Why?”
“We may not be taking this job,” I said grimly.
He didn’t even bat an eyelash. “Okay…” He drawled out the word slow and steady as he shut the door behind him. “You want to tell me why?”
I crooked a finger at him and waited for him to come around and join me. I hadn’t slept. I hadn’t left my office. I’d ended up calling for Chinese to be delivered and I’d eaten maybe a quarter of the orange chicken before I dumped it. My shower lasted all of thirty seconds because I was terrified to be where I couldn’t see the front door.
To top it all off, that damn were had hovered around most of the night, too, and there had been one point when I’d almost gone out there and picked a fight with whoever it was.
But the second I’d started to do that, sanity intruded and I’d retreated back behind my desk and focused on the job. What did it matter if there was a were skulking about when I had an ancient evil showing back up in my office trying to pay me a fortune in gold to find her lost relic?
I knew too much about ancient relics—I even
owned
a few of them—and the more powerful ones were better off being either destroyed or in very, very careful hands. I questioned whether or not
my
hands met those qualifications.
Fights and distractions would have to wait. I needed to be ready. Knowing
my
luck, Isidore would come back early.
Congratulations, TJ. You wanted me back kicking and screaming in this world… I’m back. And I’d really like to scream at you. Kicking something might help, too
.
I eyed the clock. We had an hour. One hour for me to decide. What was the lesser evil? Keeping the vase from her? Or risk letting somebody else keep it?
Justin crouched next to me, his gaze darting from one sheet of paper to another, taking in the notes, the pictures I’d printed out. Of course, there
was
no picture of Pandora’s vase…mankind believed it to be a legend, but I’d gone through as many of those grains of sand as I could, looking for any shred of the truth.
Instead of trying to explain it all, I said, “Computer, on.”
The screen flared to life and I turned so I could watch Justin’s face as he read.
The skin around his eyes tightened and his mouth went flat.
“
Pandora
? As in the chick who unleashed all the evils into the world?”
“If my gut is right, that’s the one.” I sighed and looked back at the computer, wishing the story on the screen would change. I didn’t think it would, though.
“You can’t take the job,” he said, shoving upright. He pulled the coin from his pocket and flung it on the desk. “We wait until she gets here, tell her we can’t do it. I’ll alert Banner and—”
“I don’t think it’s that simple,” I said softly, reaching out and catching his wrist when he would have spun away.
His skin felt hot under mine and his eyes glittered intense and bright. “Want to explain why not?”
“It’s
hers
, for one. What if she’s the only one who is
meant
to have it? What if it was stolen and having it in the wrong hands is even worse than having her open it? For
that
matter, what if being out of her hands is the thing that
opens
it? History gets things wrong all the time.”
Justin squeezed his eyes shut. I watched as he shoved the heel of one hand against his eye socket. He probably felt like gouging his brain out. I’d felt like that more than once throughout the night as I thought this through. None of the prospects sounded all that pleasant, but then again, we were operating in the dark. That was never good.
“Besides…” I crooked a grin at him. “
If
the legend about the box has any basis in truth, then she already opened it…the evils of the world, death, greed, old age…all of that is already in the world. The only thing that
should
be left in it is hope. Right?”
He lowered his hand and glared at me. “Ha, ha. You want me to bet on a legend written by
humans
?”
I shrugged. “We don’t have much else to go by at this point.”
“Shit.” He spun away and paced the floor, a blur of magic and silver as the threads in his sleeves started to spark.
“Why do they do that?”
He frowned and then glanced down at his sleeves. “Metal.”
I lifted a brow at him. “Meaning…?”
He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. “Kit, is this the time?”
“Well, I never seem to think about asking you at any other time,” I pointed out.
He lowered his hands and stared at me. And then, before I could so much as brace myself, strands of silver were flying at me.
Dozens
and
dozens
…like I was caught in a web of them. I held still, trusting in one very simple thing—Justin wouldn’t hurt me. That much, I could count on.
But it was damn hard not to panic as I found myself all but caged in silver—there had been a lot more of it worked into his jacket than I’d realized and now, all of it was stretched out between the two of us, wrapping around the arms of my chair, the back of it. Not touching
me
, but still, a very effective binding, since I was sort of sitting in the chair.
“Metallurgy,” he said, his voice low.
Slowly, the silver uncurled and retreated, pulling back in a graceful swirl and winding back around his arms.
My breath lodged in my throat and I still couldn’t breathe.
Memory flashed through my mind.
Silver…something silver had grabbed me when I tried to throw myself over the cliff. “You…” I forced the words out. “You’re the one who stopped me from jumping.”
He jerked his head in a nod.
“Remember how my magic seemed to be getting out of control the last year before Banner called me in?”
Eying all that silver, I whispered, “Yes.”
“Apparently I had a new talent working its way free and I didn’t recognize it. Seeing as how the two of us carried a hell of a lot of metal and it calls to me, it split my concentration,” he said. The silver was back in place on his arms, sparking in that odd, erratic little way. “I couldn’t control the magic until I learned to control the metal better. Banner didn’t just come looking to
recruit
me.”
My gut went tight.
“Justin…”
He turned away and moved to stare out the window. “If they didn’t get me under control, I would have been exterminated.”
I closed my eyes. “How long have you known about this?”
“Since the beginning.” His shoulders strained against the jacket as he crossed his arms over his chest. I couldn’t see his face, but the resignation in his voice hit me, hard. Right in my heart. “I didn’t go willingly. Not at first. I made everybody think I did because if I didn’t…well…”
He shrugged.
“You didn’t want your friends coming after you and getting in trouble with Banner.”
“I didn’t want
you
coming after me.” He looked over his shoulder at me. “The one person who had a decent chance at tracking me down and getting me out of there was you. And they knew that. They made it clear if I tried to cut loose before I had a grasp on the metal magic and my old gifts, they were going to put me down. Anybody who helped me would suffer, too.”
“Put you
down
?” I echoed, rising from behind my desk. I had to fight the urge to scream, to tear into something.
Anything
. “You’re not a sick dog or a lame horse.”
Dull green eyes met mine. “Try telling that to the higher-ups at Banner. Anybody who presents a threat is a sick animal in their eyes.”
I clenched my hand into a fist. “Yet you worked for them.”
“I owed them five years—that was the
cost
of them training me, teaching me how to use the metallurgic magic. It’s apparently pretty damn rare…and they weren’t lying about that. In the past five years, ever since I learned what it was, I’ve only met two other witches who had even a trace of it. Only one had a handle on it.” He turned around, resting his hips against the window sill. Head bowed, he focused on the floor beneath his feet as he continued to speak. “That one was my instructor. Said he could teach me to use it, but teaching me came with a cost and an oath—the cost was my service. I had to give them five years and if I didn’t agree, they were going to just kill me so they didn’t have to worry about the new talent driving me crazy.”
“They can’t just
kill
somebody who hasn’t presented a threat.” I was so damned pissed, I could hardly see straight.
“Kitty…this is Banner.” His words were thick with derision. “They can do whatever in the hell they want.”
“So you just
agreed
?”
He lifted his head and met my eyes. “Not at first.”
The look in his eyes made my gut go tight. Part of me didn’t want to hear what he had to say. But it was too late to close this door now.
Kind of like Pandora’s Box…
His lashes dipped low, shielding the vivid green of his eyes and he sighed, his shoulders rising and falling under the sturdy black cloth of his jacket. “They took me to this…I guess you can call it a hospital, but it’s more like a jail. That’s where I met the other witch who had a gift for metallurgy. He was strong…I could feel him from miles away. You’ve met those kind before. Like a storm coming on.”
“Like you.”
“I hope not.” The words came out of him in a ragged rush and he spun away, braced one hand against the wall. “The closer we got, the worse it felt. He wasn’t the
only
one…just the worst of the lot. The hospital is private—it’s one of those places where rich humans send their family members when they are looking for a
cure
.”
My lip quivered and I clenched my fist out of habit. I was caught off guard when I felt a hilt in my hand, but when I looked down, I saw the knife. I’d forgotten I was holding it. For a second…I pushed the thought away. Hopes like that were painful. Almost like ripping my heart out. “Cures.”
Justin was silent, but I suspected his thoughts had gone down the same path mine had. I didn’t particularly
like
taking contract killings, but I’d do it. One of the few contracts I’d taken had been for a man who claimed he could
cure
NH kids…for a price. Justin and I had taken him down, a team approach. It had needed to be a team, because the man had been a high-level witch, even though he’d hidden that fact from the world.
Only idiots go after the high-levels without the right kind of weapons.
My weapon had been another high-level witch and the two of us had killed that son-of-a-bitch, but not before he’d tortured and killed nearly fifteen NH kids. The families who’d sent their kids to him for the
cure
had signed waivers absolving him of all responsibility for the
risky
cure…and he’d murdered them, knowing he couldn’t cure
anybody
. And they’d paid him to do it.
Killing him had been fun.
I’d pissed blood for a week after it because he’d tried to smash my organs while Justin and I fought through the magics he flung at us, but in the end, we’d won. He’d died.
Four months later, Justin had told me he had been offered a job with Banner:
They’ll let me kill things. Lots and lots of things. And I get to play with lots of cool weapons…you never let me play with yours, Kitty-kitty
.
“Tell me about this hospital,” I said after the silence had stretched on too long.
“It’s privately owned.” He remained where he was, one hand clenched into a fist, braced against the wall. His entire body was rigid, his spine so straight, I thought it might crack from the strain. “Most people send their families there looking to
cure
them…they sign releases without really reading the fine print. And that says:
Patients to be released with doctor’s orders only…or upon successful remission of their condition
. Once they go in, the family can’t get them out.”
“That can’t be legal.” I could barely force the words out.
Justin’s laugh was hollow, echoing through my office and sending a chill down my spine. “Legal, Kit? We’re talking about NH rights, here. You and I both know those pretty much exist on paper and that’s about it. If humans get the advantage and decide to take it? We’re screwed. In that place? They have the advantage.”
I whirled around and flung my blade, watching as it buried itself in the wall. It quivered there and I stared at the handle, struggling to calm the racing of my heart, the rage I felt beating inside me.
Trapped…no one is coming
…
I knew what it was like to be held prisoner.