Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group) (6 page)

“Um, hello?” Flip’s timid voice brought a smile to Mirissa’s
face. “Can I please come out now?” He was still covered by the shield. Beck
released him, and he fell to the ground when the invisible wall he’d been
leaning on disappeared. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay, Flip?” Mirissa asked.

“I’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. That was quite a
battle.” He surveyed the area, looking at all of the unconscious dogs strewn
about. “They’ll be all right, too, won’t they?”

Orano stepped forward. “They’re just knocked out. They’ll
wake up soon enough.”

“I see,” Flip said, his gaze darting back and forth as
though looking for something.

“He’s gone. You’re safe now.” Mirissa reached out and placed
her hand on Flip’s shoulder. “I told you we’d keep you safe.”

A look of confusion crossed his face before he responded.
“Yes, you did. Thank you.”

Mirissa thought the odd man handled what he’d just witnessed
rather well. Perhaps a little too well. “Is there something you’re not telling
us, Flip?” She captured his gaze as he made eye contact, looking for any sign
of betrayal, but found none. Instead, she saw sadness.

“No, there’s nothing. This has just been …” He covered his
face in his hands. “Can I please go home now?”

Mirissa felt a wave of guilt crash over her. Because of her,
Flip had endured a horrific night. He’d slipped into shock, and she’d all but
accused him of lying to them. “I think it might be best if you stayed with us
for a while. Beck will take you to my mom and dad.”

Flip simply nodded, following Beck and Orano up the stairs
that led to street level.

“Did it work?” Mirissa asked Greco.

“Yep,” Greco said. “The tracker’s planted under Daedric’s
collar. Now we can follow him wherever he goes.”

As Flip entered the Omega Group’s hotel room, sandwiched
between Mirissa and Orano, he struggled to decide upon an appropriate reaction
to the display of powers he’d just witnessed. They believed him to be human,
with no experiences to prepare him for such a sight, yet he’d shown little
shock back at the market ruins. Orano, who hadn’t trusted him from the
beginning, would see that as confirmation of his suspicions. Even Mirissa had questioned
his attitude. The last thing Flip needed was to be ostracized by the only
people who could get him what he wanted. He needed them.

He chose a seat as far from the others as was possible in the
small room, pulling his knees to his chest in a defensive position he’d often
taken on Mount Olympus as a child. Acting terrified of beings more powerful
than himself wasn’t a stretch for a god with his history.

“Can I get you anything, Flip?” Mirissa asked.

He simply shook his head, refusing to make eye contact. When
she placed her hand on his shoulder, though, Flip let her gaze catch his. He
needed to straddle the fine line between appropriate fear and terror. If she
thought him too freaked out, she might send him on his way for his own safety.

“Are you ready to talk about what happened? You must have
questions.” The girl crouched beside his chair with an expectant look on her
face.

“I’m not sure what to say. You guys are obviously … special
in ways I didn’t even know were possible. It’s a lot to take in.” Flip gulped
in a deep breath.

Mirissa gave him the cute lopsided grin he’d already seen on
several occasions. “I know what you mean. I learned about all of this stuff a
little over a year ago, and it’s still a lot to comprehend. What I
can
tell you, Flip, is that you have
nothing to fear from
us.
We’re the good guys.”

“I assume the man who kidnapped me tonight is one of the bad
guys, then?”

“Oh yeah, but like I said before, we’ll keep you safe. We’ve
beaten him before and we’ll do it again.” Mirissa cast her gaze to the floor
for that last comment.

“You don’t seem so sure about that,” Flip said.

Mirissa fiddled with the unusual ring on her finger before
responding. She appeared to be trying to decide how much to tell him. “I won’t
lie to you. Daedric is incredibly powerful. The last time I went up against
him, I almost lost everything. If it hadn’t been for them”—she motioned to the
others in the room—“I’d probably be dead, and the world would be a much less
enjoyable place.”

This time, Flip gave the reassuring smile. “But you beat
him, right? Isn’t that what matters?”

What are you doing,
horse companion?
The voice booming inside Flip’s head was as angry as it
was unexpected.

Keeping his facial features neutral, Flip responded.
I’m doing what you told me to do, Ares.
She’s starting to trust me.

I need that key. Take
it from her and bring it to me.

Flip’s eyes instinctively lowered to the open buttons below
Mirissa’s collarbone, making him look like some sort of pervert, he felt sure.
The top of the key rested on the swell of her breasts.
 
That’s
Daedric’s job. Mine is to get close to her so that when your son fails—again—I
can bail him out—again.

“Are you all right, Flip? You look like you’re in pain.”
Mirissa’s brow furrowed as though actually worried about him.

“I’m fine,” Flip lied. “Just a little headache.” The bolt of
pain Ares shot through his brain made him want to scream.

“I can get you an aspirin—”

An unnatural silence filled the room. Frozen in
mid-sentence, the girl looked like a statue, as did everyone else.
You stopped time?

For a moment. Now grab
the key before Chronos senses what I’ve done.

Flip reached for the chain hanging around Mirissa’s neck and
used it to gently pull the key from between her breasts. His chest tightened
when he caught a glimpse of the concern in her eyes. Concern for his
well-being.
Is this how guilt feels?
Shaking
off the foreign sensation, he grasped the key.

“Aah!” Pain like he'd rarely experienced in his thousands of
years of existence shot up his arm as the metal seared the flesh of his hand.
He released the key, but not quickly enough to prevent the burned, blistering
mess on his palm.

Mirissa frowned. “Flip? Would you like one?”

“What?” he answered, squeezing his hand into a
fist.
Either Ares started time once he saw his plan wouldn’t
work, or Chronos had forced him to.

“An aspirin,” she said with a laugh.

“Oh. Yes, please. That would be wonderful.” Flip forced a
smile despite the pulsating pain radiating from his injured hand.

When the girl stood, the key bounced against her chest. A brief
look of confusion crossed her face before she tucked it safely inside her
blouse. When she returned with two small white pills along with a glass of water,
Flip gratefully accepted them. He grasped the cup tenderly, pressing his burn
against the cooling glass for a little relief, and gulped its contents down. He
then put the pills in his mouth.

Letting loose a little giggle, Mirissa said, “Normally, people
swallow the pills
with
the water, but
whatever works for you.”

“Thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like a moment alone to
digest all of this.” Flip gave her his most sincere look, which came more
easily than it should have.

“Of course. If you need anything, just ask.” She squeezed
his shoulder before joining the rest of the group.

Flip focused his healing energy toward the burn on his hand.
With his powers, the injury should have healed as quickly as it formed, but
that wasn’t happening. If anything, it looked to be getting worse.
Ares, what was that?

No response. Either he no longer listened, or Ares didn’t
know any more than Flip did. Flip hoped it was the latter. Although answers
would have been helpful, the small victory of stumping the arrogant god of war
was worth the pain.

Almost closing his eyes, Flip leaned back in the chair. He
wanted to be able to watch the girl without anyone feeling the need to come
over and talk to him. Feigning sleep seemed like a good ploy. Although they
were keeping their voices low, he could easily make out what the Omega Group
talked about. The girl, her mother, and the annoyingly attractive boy were
going to visit Tritonia to speak with Artemis.

He watched them lie down on the bed in preparation for
sending their consciousness to the dimension where the Amazon’s island home
existed. Mirissa gave one last glance in his direction before warning the
behemoth Orano to be nice. She was definitely protective, that one.

********

Mirissa glanced around the clearing in the woods where her
consciousness always landed on their trips to Tritonia. The entire place stood
empty. “Are we in the right dimension?”

Her mother looked equally concerned. “Myrine,” she called
out to her namesake. “Are you here?”

“I am.” The calming voice came from directly behind them.

“Where is everyone?” Mirissa asked as she spun to meet their
ancient queen.

“They are home with their families, where they belong.”

Something in the queen’s eyes told Mirissa there was a lot
more to the story, but she decided to let it go. There were more urgent things
to discuss. “We really need to speak to Artemis.”

“She is waiting for you,” the queen said as she ushered them
toward the goddess’s statue.

Mirissa felt sure they could have spoken to the goddess
without being near the statue. During the battle at Ortega, Artemis spoke to
Mirissa telepathically while she’d been unconscious and saved her from having
all of her powers drained by a succubus. The enormous statue was nothing more
than a physical likeness, but, she had to admit, talking to it rather than
empty air did make her feel a little less crazy.

“Artemis?” Mirissa’s mother called out. “We need your help.”

“I’m here,” the melodic voice of the goddess of the hunt
replied. “I will tell you what I know, but that is as much as I’m allowed to
do.”

“Is it really Pandora’s box causing all of this?” Mirissa’s
mother asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Artemis said.

Mirissa thought the goddess sounded tired. The strength that
normally radiated through her voice had been replaced by something else.
Despair? “I remember the story of Pandora from my Mythology class. Zeus gave
her a box and told her not to look inside. She got curious, opened it, and let
all of the world’s evils out.”

“Not exactly,” Artemis replied. “You see, this planet you
call Earth was once our playground. For millennia, the gods held dominion here.
When Zeus created man, he gave this world to you, which angered many of the
gods, none more so than Eris, the goddess of discord. She tried, unsuccessfully,
to rally the other gods against Zeus. When that didn’t work, she turned her
wrath toward mankind. Destroying all humans became her sole purpose. ”

Mirissa’s mind whirled. Although she’d accepted the reality
of Greek gods long ago, she still thought of them as background characters in a
story revolving around humans.

“We are, for the most part,” Artemis said, in response to
Mirissa’s unspoken thoughts. “You must understand that the majority of us sided
with Zeus. Watching humans from afar has been a great source of entertainment
for us. Eris, however, could not be appeased. She inflicted every manner of
disaster on the earth in her quest to reclaim it from you. When she caused a
great flood to cover the lands, Zeus was forced to intervene.”

“Hang on,” Mirissa interrupted. “When you say ‘a great
flood,’ are you talking about the whole forty days and forty
nights
thing?”

“Yes, young warrior. That event almost caused your
extinction. Zeus knew, in your primitive state, you were no match for Eris’s
wrath. His only option was to contain her.”

Greco spoke for the first time since Artemis began her
story. “So, he stuck her in a box?”

“Yes. But to appease the gods who supported her, he struck a
bargain. The box would stay closed for five thousand years, giving mankind time
to evolve. When it was again opened, humans would have to prove their
worthiness by defeating Eris, with no interference from the gods on either side.”

“And if we can’t?” Mirissa asked.

“Eris will eradicate you all, leaving the world, once again,
to the gods alone.”

“That makes no sense,” Greco said. “Even with five thousand
years to evolve, Zeus had to know humans would be no match for an angry
goddess.”

“He did. Why do you think he allowed preternaturals to
populate the earth? He knew that when the time came, only a human with
exceptional powers would be able to close the box.”

“And that’s me? My key is meant to close it?” Mirissa’s
voice shook under the weight of the awesome responsibility.

“Yes, Mirissa. Zeus fashioned the key all those centuries
ago and entrusted it to a woman whose descendant would be destined to be the
key-holder upon Eris’s return.”

“Pandora,” Mirissa said, putting the pieces together in her
mind. “I’m Pandora’s descendant.”

“It is your destiny, Mirissa. And yours alone.”

“No,” Mirissa said. “I’m not strong enough to defeat a
goddess. I couldn’t even beat Daedric by myself, and he’s just a demi-god.” All
this time she’d thought she already fulfilled her destiny back on Ortega.
Stopping Daedric from taking control of the oil supply had, at the time, felt
like saving the world. But this … this was more than she could comprehend. She
reached out to grab Greco’s hand for reassurance, yet she found nothing but
air.
What the—?

“I’ve sent Greco and your mother back to your dimension,
Mirissa. There are some things we must speak about alone.” Artemis’s tone spoke
volumes.

“I take it this isn’t going to be good news, then.” Mirissa
had mistakenly thought things couldn’t get any worse.

“I’m afraid not. Eris must be defeated, but to do so will
require everything you have. Everything.”

 
“Please, Artemis. Say
what you mean.” Mirissa was in no mood to decipher cryptic messages.

“There is no guarantee you will be able to close the box.
The key is meant to channel all of your power, your essence, through it. When
Daedric opened the box early, he took away precious time from you. Your powers
aren’t fully developed yet. If you are strong enough, the box will close but, even
if you are successful, you will not survive.”

Silence filled the air, feeling like an anvil on Mirissa’s
chest. “So, I die whether I succeed or fail? What’s the point, then?”

“The point, my dear, is that if you fail, everyone else dies
with you.”

The reality of her situation, although spelled out pretty
clearly by Artemis, felt foreign to her. In the movies, the heroine would
dramatically drop to her knees, wailing at the injustice of it all. For
Mirissa, though, a strange calm enveloped her.
Denial is a beautiful thing.

Mirissa stared off into space, digesting all she’d just
learned. “My parents are gonna freak.”