Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group)
Read Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group) Online
Authors: Andrea Domanski
Copyright © 2015 by Andrea
Domanski
Cover Art
Copyright © 2015 by Rebecca Sterling
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be
reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written
permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book
review.
Send all inquiries to www.AndreaDomanski.com
First Printing, 2015
Web Info
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The Omega Group Series
Introduction
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Chapter 1
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Chapter 2
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Chapter 3
Chapter 4
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Chapter 5
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Chapter 6
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Chapter 7
Chapter 8
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Chapter 9
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Chapter 10
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Chapter 11
Chapter 12
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Chapter 13
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Chapter 14
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Chapter 15
Chapter 16
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Chapter 17
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Chapter 18
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Chapter 19
Chapter 20
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Chapter 21
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Chapter 22
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Chapter 23
Chapter 24
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Chapter 25
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Chapter 26
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Chapter 27
Chapter 28
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Chapter 29
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Chapter 30
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Chapter 31
Chapter 32
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Chapter 33
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Chapter 34
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Chapter 35
The legend of Pandora’s Box predates recorded history and,
as with all ancient legends, there have been many incarnations. A creation
story, eerily similar to that of Eve in Genesis, it depicts man’s fall from
grace at the hands of an overly curious woman.
It is said that Zeus, angered when Prometheus gave the gift
of fire to mortal man against his wishes, created the first woman as a
punishment. Her name was Pandora, and the leader of the gods sent her to earth
with a chest full of all the evils which had yet to plague mankind. Zeus gave
her instructions to never open the box, but also endowed her with great
curiosity, which he knew would cause her to disobey him.
When she did so, the evils imprisoned in the box escaped,
spreading disease, hardship, death, and a myriad of other suffering upon the
earth. Gone was the utopian perfection that was once mankind.
This story, over thousands of years, has been told almost as
a cautionary tale for children. It is also only a fraction of the truth.
Daedric coughed up another lungful of dust as his
archeologist companions slowly chiseled away at the rock separating them from
their prize. It took a great deal of self-restraint to not scream at them to
move faster. They were so intent on preserving every Greek symbol carved into
the wall, it had taken them more than a month just to uncover the entrance.
All Daedric could think about was getting the box he knew
sat on the other side of the wall and delivering it to his father. Dear old
Dad, Ares, had saved him from Mirissa and the Omega Group team a few months
prior, and Daedric needed to prove himself worth the effort. The only problem,
aside from the incessant banter from the mongrel sent to keep an eye on him,
was the utter disdain Daedric felt for the peons with whom he’d been forced to
work.
Humans annoyed him at the best of times, but having to
pretend he was one of them—laughing at their ridiculous jokes, feigning
weaknesses he didn’t have and, worst of all, not using his demi-god
powers—became almost unbearable. Although he detested every second of living as
a human, he also felt grateful to have the ability to do so. It was the only
reason Ares, the Greek god of war, created him by impregnating his human
mother. Ares needed him for this.
No god could enter the chamber holding the infamous Pandora’s
Box. Daedric’s human half allowed him to get close, but even that wasn’t enough
to get him inside. His two recently acquired archeologist colleagues would have
to bring the box to him, assuming they were able to get to it at some point in
this lifetime.
“Any chance we’re going to get into that chamber today?”
Daedric asked them with as much kindness forced into his voice as possible.
“For an archeologist, Rick, you are really impatient,” Jonathon,
the boss, quipped in his usual condescending tone. The two men laughed. It was
their standard line when discussing the colleague they knew only as Rick
Aresson.
“I was just asking.” Daedric’s jaw ached from clenching every
time he had the urge to kill one, or both, of them. “Yesterday, you said it
would be today.”
“You did say that.” The whiny voice of his appointed
chaperone echoed down the rock corridor. Flip, the little troll Ares insisted
Daedric keep at his side, pretended to study the ancient Greek symbols carved
into the stone at the other end of the corridor. The real reason for his
distance, currently thirty feet away from them, was his aversion to pain. He
was, after all, a full-blooded Greek god, and couldn’t get anywhere near the
chamber.
“I don’t know how you two got through all those digs listed on
your resumes. We’ve only been at this for a month, and you’re already chomping
at the bit. Relax a little, Rick, and tell your strange friend to do the same.
We’ll get through when we get through.”
The
tap, tap, tap
of the tiny hammers in their hands came to an unexpected stop. “Jonathon, I
think we’ve done it,” the one named Luke whispered.
Daedric leaned forward as they stood to admire their work.
The last piece of the seal, which had kept the chamber’s door in place for five
thousand years, fell to the floor. Even Jonathon looked excited to finally be
through. His excitement, however, didn’t move him to speed up.
Daedric spent another painstaking hour photographing every
inch of the rectangular crevice that once held an ancient version of cement
sealant. He didn’t miss any angle with the camera while he waited for the
others to catalogue every chip and chunk they’d removed.
When he felt sure he would tear Jonathon’s head from his
shoulders if he spent one more second cataloging, Daedric’s temporary boss held
up one of the long metal tools they would be using to dislodge the small door
and handed it over.
They each took their positions, tools at the ready, and
waited for Jonathon to give the go-ahead.
“
The
discovery of King Tutankhamun's tomb has, for decades, been considered the
greatest archeological find of our era
. We are about to change that,” Jonathon
said. He broadcast the obviously rehearsed speech in the self-important tone
Daedric had come to despise. “From this moment forward, Jonathon Stapleton will
be remembered as the man who discovered the oldest intact tomb in existence.”
He looked to his two companions and continued. “Of course, your names will be
added as contributors to all published works on the matter.”
Daedric forced a smile he hoped matched Luke’s. He didn’t
yet want to express his true feelings about the man who had delusions of
grandeur even the best psychiatrist in the world couldn’t cure. As soon as they
brought the box across the entrance’s threshold, the enchantment protecting it would
be no more. Then, he would show Jonathon exactly how little the man meant to
the world, in the most painful way possible.
“Are you guys through yet?” Flip yelled from the safety of
his faraway spot.
Jonathon raised his eyebrows at Daedric. “Why doesn’t he
just come down here?”
The door stood a mere five feet tall and two feet wide, but
its weight was formidable. The three of them would never have been able to pull
it free had Daedric not used his telekinesis.
Although strictly forbidden to use his powers while in the men’s
company, waiting for Jonathon to find enough people he trusted with his secret
dig to help them was unthinkable. Ares would forgive his transgression when he
presented him with the box.
When they’d pulled back the door enough for them to slip
through, Jonathon pushed Luke aside to make sure he gained entry first. “One
small step for man, one huge leap for mankind,” he said, misquoting Neil
Armstrong’s famous line from when he stepped onto the moon.
Daedric felt the protective power of the small chamber
pushing against him, and he struggled to remain in place. A high-pitched yelp from
down the corridor said Flip felt something, too. “That space is a little small
for my liking,” Daedric said. “If it’s okay with you, I’ll take photos from out
here.”
Luke’s jaw dropped and Jonathon turned to him, astonished.
“Are you kidding? All of your impatience and you’re going to let a little
claustrophobia stop you? You two are the strangest archeologists I’ve ever
worked with.”
When the two men crossed into the chamber, their flashlight beams
illuminated the room’s sole occupant. The box, a chest made of dark metal, sat
unadorned on the cold stone floor. It radiated a force Daedric couldn’t
identify but instinctively feared.
“This is amazing,” Luke said. “I’ve never seen a chamber
lacking in all decoration. I can’t imagine why a people would put so much
effort into concealing something they didn’t even think was worthy of
ornamentation.”
“It is odd.” Jonathon couldn’t conceal his obvious disappointment
at the lack of riches. “Perhaps the real treasure is inside the chest.” He
reached for the lid.
“Stop!” Daedric bellowed. “You can’t open it here. What
about the integrity of whatever’s inside?” Ares had been very clear in his
instructions. Under no circumstances was the box to be opened. Daedric had to
bring it to his father for safekeeping until they were able to locate, and
eliminate, the key-holder.
“Who are you, and what have you done with Rick Aresson?” Jonathon
said as he examined the edges of the chest’s lid. “This lid isn’t even sealed,
which means the contents have already been exposed to the air.”
“You don’t know that for sure. At least bring it out here so
I can take a look. This is, after all, why you brought me in on this
expedition.” Daedric watched as his pseudo-boss weighed his options, then
added, “Tell you what, we have more light hooked up out here than your
flashlights can produce. Bring the chest out, we’ll take another look, and if
we all agree it’s safe, we’ll open it.”
Both Jonathon and Luke nodded their agreement, and Daedric
let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. They each grabbed one of the
thick metal handles jutting out of the side of the chest and lifted.
A rare genuine smile crept across Daedric’s face as the unsuspecting
men inched the heavy box forward. A few more feet and they would be outside the
chamber, the power protecting the box would disappear, and he could take it to
his father.
Perhaps then Ares would see
that he didn’t need Flip’s help.
When the men crossed the threshold, Daedric felt the air
pressure drop as the enchantment dissipated. Luke raised one hand to shield his
eyes from the bright artificial light, letting the weight of the chest rest in
his other. His pathetically weak muscles were no match for the box, and it
crashed to the floor. The sudden movement pulled Jonathon off balance and he
tumbled ahead, still gripping the handle.
For Daedric, everything seemed to move in slow motion: Luke
dropping the box, Jonathon’s misstep, the chest toppling forward. Then the
unthinkable happened. The lid of the box rose, and a stench so foul as to make
him gag filled his nostrils.
“Jesus, what is that?” Jonathon asked, covering his mouth
and nose with his sweat-stained shirt.
Daedric knew the answer. It was Eris, the Greek goddess of
chaos, strife, and discord. She also happened to be Ares’s sister. “I’m
guessing you’re about to find out.”
Black tendrils of smoke exploded from the chest and swirled
around the room. Mist the color of blood rose upward, choking out the
breathable air. The chest itself glowed a deep purple, and the once-smooth
metal transformed into a patchwork of hieroglyphics.
“Oh, this is bad. Really, really bad.” Flip peeked his
misshapen head into the antechamber and grimaced. “Ares said to keep the box
closed. We don’t have the key yet. We don’t even know who the key-holder is.”
Daedric’s anger flourished. “It wasn’t me, you moron.
It was these two idiots.”
“Hey!” Jonathon and Luke said in unison.
A
hole
emerged in the front of the
chest as the metal pulled back, forming a grotesque ring of warped and twisted
shapes. Another mist, golden and shimmering, oozed out of the new orifice. It
didn’t join the black tendrils and red clouds dancing in the air. Instead, it
formed a column in front of the box, swirling and thickening until it finally
took a solid shape.
A beautiful woman, nothing short of exquisite, appeared in
front of Daedric. Although she stood only slightly taller than him, her powerful
presence inspired awe. She had flawless pale skin, and her black hair flowed in
waves down her back. She wore a white tunic, cinched at her waist with a golden
rope, which cascaded to the floor. Although she was glorious from head to toe,
Daedric couldn’t tear his gaze away from her eyes. They were black as coal with
a sliver of white around the edges.
A whimper from the floor drew her attention. She looked down
at Luke, who cowered in fear at her feet. He opened his mouth as if to speak,
but a flick of her finger ignited a flame that engulfed him instantly. His
screams were short-lived as the incredible heat turned him to a small pile of
ash.
She turned toward Jonathon before being interrupted.
“Please, allow me,” Daedric said, lowering his gaze to show
respect.
Her perfect lips curled up in a macabre smile as she nodded
her agreement.
“Rick?” Jonathon’s voice trembled as he spoke.
“My name is Daedric, and I’ve been waiting for this moment
since the day I met you.” Raising his arm, Daedric squeezed his empty hand into
a fist as though choking the air. Jonathon grabbed at his throat as his airway instantly
constricted. His eyes bulged and his cheeks turned red.
Daedric felt the familiar warmth fill his chest as he used
telekinesis to drain the life out of the sniveling little runt at his feet. It
had been far too long since he’d last watched the essence leave a man’s body,
and he relished every second of it until Jonathon lay crumpled and lifeless on
the stone floor.
Eris looked at Flip with disgust, and his small frame shrank
under the scrutiny. “Still playing with horses, Flip?” When she turned to
Daedric with what could only be described as curiosity, her voice vibrated
throughout his chest. “And you are?”
“I’m your nephew. Ares sent me to bring you home.”