Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group) (7 page)

When Mirissa opened her eyes, she saw more than just the
stained ceiling of their hotel room. Every member of her team hovered over her,
staring as though she were the main attraction at a carnival.

“Run along, folks. Nothing to see here.” Mirissa pushed
herself off the bed and away from the unwanted scrutiny.

“What happened back there?” Greco asked. “Why did we get
sent back without you?”

Mirissa took a deep breath, placing a neutral expression on
her face before answering him. “It was nothing. Artemis just wanted to wish me
luck.” Before anyone else decided to interrogate her, Mirissa changed the
subject. “Have we gotten anything from the tracking device Greco planted on
Daedric?”

“Kind of,” Beck answered. She grabbed the laptop and set it
on the small table. “Julian beefed up the technology with some preternatural
help so we can follow Daedric even when he teleports. The problem is that we
can only track him while he’s in this dimension.”

Mirissa bent down to look at the satellite image on the
small computer screen. “Is that him?” A faint red line crossed the map from the
ancient marketplace they’d just left to a spot that looked uninhabited about
fifty miles southwest.

“Yep, but we no longer have a signal. As far as I can tell,
Daedric left this dimension where that red line stops. Funnily enough, it—”

Myrine’s ringing phone halted the conversation. When she
answered it, a look of frustration spread across her face at whatever the
caller had said. “How exactly are we supposed to operate under those
conditions, sir?” she said. There was a short pause before she continued.
“Understood. I’ll keep you posted.”

When Myrine disconnected the call, she looked to the team. “That
was Finley.” The director of the CIA rarely called operatives during a mission.
When he started the Omega Group over a decade ago, he put Myrine in charge and
let her run the secret agency however she saw fit. “We’re about to have
company. The White House has been breathing down his neck, and now they’ve
decided to send a liaison to tag along with us.”

The entire group erupted with objections until Myrine raised
her hands to quiet them. “I know it isn’t an ideal situation, but it’s what
we’ve got. Finley says they’re concerned this might somehow be a terrorist
attack. He’s run as much interference as he can, but they made their decision.”

“A terrorist attack? Really? Do they think some jihadists
suddenly gained the power to control the weather?” Although it sounded absurd,
Mirissa had to admit they weren’t that far off the mark.

Her father, always the voice of reason, spoke up. “This is
the government we’re talking about here. They’re going to waste massive amounts
of time, money, and manpower just so they can say they did something. I’m
actually surprised they’ve left us alone for as long as they have.”

“Whether we agree with it or not, it’s happening. We’ll just
have to find a way to work around the guy.” Myrine glanced over to Flip, who
still slept in his chair. “And speaking of tag-alongs, what are we going to do
with him?”

As if on cue, Flip opened his eyes. “Sorry. I must have
dozed off.”

Orano, with his arms crossed over his massive chest in what
was quickly becoming his “annoyed stance,” gave Flip a droll look before
addressing Myrine. “Are we going to be protecting him out of the goodness of
our hearts, or can he actually be useful in some way?”

Myrine looked at her watch, then at Flip. “Mr. Petrakis, you
said you were able to decipher the ancient writing your colleague found at
Pella. If I show you another sample, can you translate it for us?”

“Of course,” Flip said as he rose from the chair, stretching
his limbs. “It’s not rocket surgery.”

Mirissa giggled as Flip once again mixed up a common saying.
“Science, Flip. It’s not rocket
science
.”

The odd little man looked confused for a moment before
shaking it off and continuing. “Where is your sample?”

Myrine pulled up the images of the key on the laptop. Julian
had taken several photos before the writing disappeared. She turned the screen
toward Flip, who absentmindedly rubbed the palm of his hand as he read. After a
few moments, he looked at Mirissa, his expression pained.

If the look on his face was anything to go by, the symbols
on the key weren’t good news. The fact that he was staring at her gave Mirissa
a pretty good idea of what they said. She gave him an almost imperceptible
shake of her head, hoping he’d understand her meaning.

********

Flip’s gut clenched as he read the words that were meant for
the key-holder.
Your essence is mankind’s
only hope.
Modern-day language gave many meanings to the word essence: a
person’s nature, character, even personality. In ancient times, it had only one
definition: Life force.

Mirissa would have to sacrifice her life to lock Eris back
in the box. Flip opened his mouth to read the translation to the group, but
stopped himself when he saw the girl shake her head.
She knows already.
But why would she want to keep it a secret from
her friends? From her family?

The sickening feeling in his belly wasn’t the only foreign
sensation Flip was experiencing. In all of his exceptionally long existence,
he’d never once witnessed any god sacrifice even the smallest thing for the
good of all the others. They simply took whatever they wanted, with no thought
of anyone but themselves. Although he himself had sacrificed much over the years—his
dignity usually—it had always been forced upon him by a higher god.

There was so much he didn’t understand about humans. Their
emotions and connections to each other were incredibly strange. This group had
known Phillip Petrakis for less than a day, and to them he was just some
archeologist who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet,
already they’d risked their own safety to ensure his. Even the behemoth
begrudgingly protected him. Flip sat down on the edge of the room’s only bed as
the knot in his stomach threatened to expand up through his throat.
Am I sick? Do I have food poisoning?

“Are you OK, Flip?” Mirissa placed her hand on his shoulder
as she sat beside him. “You don’t look so hot.”

“Fine. I’m fine. It must be something I ate,” Flip said,
hoping it was true.

“Are you going to tell us what the key said?” Orano asked
gruffly.

“Oh, yes. Of course. It says, ‘She who wields this key,
wields the power,’” He glanced at Mirissa, whose lips curved into a small
smile.

“Well, if that’s not the most unhelpful magical message ever
written.” Orano stomped off to stare out the window at the sleeping town.

“Maybe this would be a good time for us all to turn in. I
know I could really use a few hours of sleep,” Steve said.

“I’ll take Flip downstairs to the front desk and get him a
room,” Mirissa said. “Unless you’re willing to share yours, Orano?”

“Funny.” The behemoth nodded to his teammates when he
reached the door, then disappeared down the hallway, presumably toward his
room.

“All right, everyone. We’ll resume first thing in the morning,”
Myrine said as they cleared out.

The lobby sat all but deserted at that time of the night,
and Mirissa secured him the room right next to hers within a few minutes. She
was unusually quiet as they made their way upstairs.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Flip asked.

“About what?” she replied.

“About what the key really said and how you knew about it.”

Mirissa paused as she reached the door to his room. “Look, I
really appreciate you not telling them the truth. They wouldn’t understand, or
accept, it.”

“And you do?” Flip raised his eyebrows.

“Hardly. It hasn’t really sunk in yet. I guess I’ll cross
that bridge when I get to it.”

Flip fiddled with the room key until his door finally
unlocked. “I’m not sure where any bridges come into this but, if you don’t mind
me saying, I think you are a remarkable human.”

Mirissa’s giggle caused his cheeks to flush. “You are an odd
man, Mr. Petrakis, but thank you for saying that. It means a lot.”

When she bent down to kiss his cheek, Flip’s heart almost
stopped. Before he could find words, the annoyingly attractive one sauntered
down the hallway toward them, interrupting the moment.

“Should I be worried, here?” Greco joked as he put his arm
possessively around her shoulders.

Flip couldn’t stop the sneer that formed on his face. He
stepped into his room and turned to the girl. “Goodnight, Mirissa. I’ll see you
in the morning.” He didn’t wait for her response before shutting the door.

The solitude of his empty hotel room gave Flip the chance to
reflect on the night’s events. Once again, Daedric’s plan had failed. Not only
had he not retrieved the key, but he’d also pretty much gotten his butt kicked.
It was a memory Flip would treasure for the rest of eternity. Ares would
undoubtedly be furious, most likely finding some way to blame Flip for the
failure, but he didn’t care.

Things were going exactly as he’d planned. The girl trusted
him. The behemoth didn’t, but that could be handled. Everyone else seemed to
like, or at least tolerate, his presence. Perfect.

Now if he could just get these pesky human emotions under
control. At first he’d thought he’d gotten sick, what with the sore stomach and
other weird feelings he’d been experiencing on and off since meeting these
people. But now he realized it was something much worse. He liked Mirissa.
She’d been kind to him, concerned about him, when no one else in his life ever
had. And now she was going to die.

The familiar knot in his gut returned. This time, he ignored
it. He had a job to do, and no puny humans—no matter how nice—were going to get
in his way.

Nope. That girl was the solution to all of his problems.
When she died, he’d finally be able to force Ares to make him a higher god.

A tingle in his cheeks had Flip running to the bathroom,
where he promptly threw up the contents of his stomach.

********

Mirissa stood in the dimly lit hotel hallway, relishing the
feel of Greco’s arms wrapped around her. With her cheek resting against his
muscular chest, she felt safe. Nothing bad could happen to her as long as those
arms surrounded her, holding her tight.

“Do you want to come in? To my room, I mean,” Mirissa
whispered.

When Greco’s back stiffened, she knew she’d pushed too far.
Their relationship was still new. Even though they’d known each other for over
a year, they’d just begun dating a week ago. Both of them had chosen not to
rush the physical side of their relationship, but now that Mirissa knew she had
less than four days left to spend with him, she was seriously reconsidering
that decision.

“What’s going on with you?” Greco asked, his baritone voice
vibrating through her.

Mirissa snuggled closer, her hands locked at the small of
his back to pull him closer still. "Nothing."

Taking her by the shoulders, he held her away from him, his blue
eyes scanning her face with such intensity she felt like she was being x-rayed.
"Tell me."

Mirissa's gaze fell under his scrutiny. "Nothing's
going on." She attempted a chuckle, but it came out as a groan.
"Can't I just want to be with my boyfriend?"

She glanced up to see his lips compressed in a scowl. When she
rose on her tiptoes to kiss him, he pulled back and pinned her with a glare.

Tamping down the hurt of his rejection, she fired back, “You
don't even want me to kiss you?"

“Not until you tell me what you’re hiding.” His eyes pleaded
with her to open up to him. “What aren't you saying?" he demanded, his
grip on her shoulders becoming almost painful.

 
 
Mirissa’s pulse quickened. She tried to keep
her face relaxed and neutral. “Nothing," she repeated.

“Stop saying ‘nothing,’ Mirissa.” He released her shoulders,
taking both of her hands gently in his. “You might be able to fool the others,
but not me. I know you better than you know yourself.”

Forcing a laugh to ease the tension, she said, “That would
be a scary thought if it was true.”

Greco released her hands, crossed his arms, and leaned
against the wall, distancing himself from her. “I do know you, Mirissa. For
instance, I know you blame yourself for Lincoln’s death back on Ortega. Since
then you’ve been living under the mistaken assumption that you aren’t strong
enough to handle anything on your own.”

Mirissa swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. He
was right, of course, but the fact that he’d seen through her charade of
bravery unsettled her. “I’m more realistic now than I used to be. That’s all.”

She watched Greco’s eyes narrow in response to her lie. She
hated misleading him, especially when she remembered how much it had hurt when
he hid his past from her. Mirissa desperately wanted to feel his arms around
her and have him tell her everything would be all right. When she stepped
close, Greco held his hand up to stop her.

“Not until you tell me what you’re hiding.” His gaze bored
into her. “I know there’s something.”

Mirissa cast her gaze to the floor, unable to look at him while
she lied. “You’re wrong.”

Greco’s disappointment quickly transformed into anger. “You
say I’m your boyfriend, but you don’t trust me enough to even talk to me. I’ve
told you all my secrets, bared my soul to you, and you’re just going to stand
there and lie to me?”

She stumbled back, her hand going to her lips to stop their
quiver. Lying to Greco, causing him this pain, made her heart feel like lead in
her chest. Telling him would be so easy. She longed to let everything spill
out, to share the burden with him. After all, Greco had been willing to
sacrifice his own life to save one little boy in Savannah. How could he not
understand her being willing to do the same thing to save the entire human
race? But she knew that wasn’t how it would play out. He’d find some way to
stop her from doing what she had to do.
 
If she let that happen, Greco, her parents, and
everyone else in the world would die. No, she had to be strong.