Read Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group) Online
Authors: Andrea Domanski
Pandora (Book 3) (The Omega Group) (22 page)
Orano expanded the rivers of lava he imagined flowing
throughout his body until he could actually feel the warmth they created. It
was the first sensation he’d gotten from his body since the dart hit him. Real
hope bloomed inside him as a tingling in his feet joined the warmth.
Then the chanting stopped and the man spoke directly to him.
“You will soon be free of Satan’s curse and released from your obligation to
serve him.” His accent sounded Caribbean with a tinge of British. He grabbed
the silver cross he’d been using during his chant with both hands. He pulled up
the top part, unsheathing a thin dagger from inside the cross, its blade
twinkling in the light.
Panic surged as Orano watched the man wrap his hands around
the dagger’s hilt and raise it over his head, ready to plunge it down toward
him. Orano instinctively slammed his eyes shut to avoid seeing the instrument
of his own death penetrate his chest. Then smiled at what the ability to do so
meant.
A quick twitch of his right wrist, and Orano’s palm faced
his would-be-murderer. The same beam of light from the barn exploded out of his
hand and slammed into his attacker, knocking him backward from his kneeling
position. The base of the man’s head struck the corner of their wrought iron
coffee table with such force, he bounced off of it before collapsing to the
floor.
The smile left Orano’s face immediately. The man stared
through unblinking eyes at a world he would never again see.
Orano closed his own eyes and cried.
********
“You did nothing wrong, Orano. Do you understand me?
Nothing.” Cherry watched her son close down in front of her. When she’d awoken
from her own sedation to see him strapped to the chair, her worst fears became
a reality. Until she’d noticed his shoulders jerking and heard his quiet sobs.
She’d pulled herself off the couch and, on unsteady legs,
stepped to her son’s side. That’s when the entire story unveiled itself to her.
The man the
Ọ
w
ọ
ti
Ọ
l
ọ
run
brotherhood sent
to kill Orano lay dead on the floor, his dagger at his side. He must have
gotten through the entire ceremony before succumbing to whatever killed him.
When she’d placed her hand on Orano’s cheek, his eyes had
flown open as though fearing the man might have come back to life. When he saw
her instead, his weeping intensified and he told her everything. She listened
to every anguished word as she removed the tape securing him to the chair.
“Sweetheart, I am so proud of you. I don’t know of anyone
who could have handled themselves better than you did. You saved us both.”
Although Cherry knew the
Ọ
w
ọ
ti
Ọ
l
ọ
run
would never have hurt her—they
were psychotic killers, but only to those family members with powers—she also
knew Orano needed to believe he’d caused the man’s death for reasons other than
just saving himself.
“I need you to listen to me now. We have a chance to make
sure no one ever comes after you again, but I need you to help me.” Cherry
waited for her son to work through whatever moral quandary he was experiencing.
It took a few moments, but Orano’s shoulders straightened and his eyes lost
their blank expression.
“Good boy. This man is from
Ọ
w
ọ
ti
Ọ
l
ọ
run
, and they’ll be waiting for him
to report in. We need to make sure he does that,” Cherry said.
Orano’s brow knit in confusion. “But how? He’s dead.”
Cherry gave him a reassuring smile before moving to kneel
beside the man. She found what she was looking for in his front pocket. She
flipped open the cell phone and scrolled through all of his texts. Several
mentioned Orano, and she read each one of them.
“He’s been watching you for a while and texting his findings
to one number. All of the messages report no sign of the power in you. My guess
is that today would have been his last report. So let’s send it for him.”
Cherry tapped the numbered keys the appropriate amount of times to spell out
her message.
His sixteenth birthday
has passed. No powers manifested.
Cherry checked her watch to make sure midnight had already
passed, then pressed send. “This is where I need your help, Son. Are you
ready?”
Orano took a deep breath and nodded.
They found the man’s car in their driveway and pulled it
into the empty spot in their garage. Cherry and Orano dragged the body through
the house and placed it in the passenger seat of the car. She kept a careful
eye on her son throughout the process. Although he looked ready to vomit, he
held himself together.
“The hard
part’s
over, Orano. Now,
I just need you to follow me in our car. I’ll take care of the rest.”
“But I don’t have my driver’s license,” he said.
Cherry stifled the giggle his unexpected remark elicited. “I
think we can overlook that under the circumstances, don’t you?”
Driving the short distance out of town, Cherry kept her eye
on her son through the rearview mirror and pondered how she would help Orano
deal with everything he’d experienced. Although he was lucid, she knew he’d
been operating on autopilot since the
Ọ
w
ọ
ti
Ọ
l
ọ
run
’s man died. Her son’s honorable
spirit would be crushed if she didn’t do something.
When they reached the curve in the road
not-so-affectionately nicknamed “Dead Man’s Turn,” she stopped the car. She
just needed to put the man in the driver’s seat, then wedge his foot onto the
gas pedal.
“Grab me a thick branch. About a foot and a half long or
so,” Cherry instructed her son.
While Orano searched, she maneuvered the body behind the
wheel before opening all of the windows. She couldn’t count on the crash
breaking them and needed a plausible reason for a piece of tree to be found
inside the vehicle.
Orano handed her a gnarled branch that would be perfect. She
took it from his grasp and instructed him to wait in their car. He didn’t need
to be exposed to any more violence than the night had already brought.
With the car running in neutral, she closed the driver’s
side door and reached in through the window. She placed one end of the branch
on the gas pedal, then shoved the other end into the edge of the seat. The
car’s engine roared as raw power surged. With a quick prayer of thanks that his
car had an automatic transmission, Cherry pulled herself as far out of the
vehicle as she could while still being able to reach the shifter. When she
jammed the car into drive, the tires spun on the dirt and gravel at the side of
the road before finding purchase and shooting the vehicle ahead.
The car careened over the edge as so many others had done
over the years, then crashed down the thirty-foot drop-off. Many drivers died
that way. One more wouldn’t raise suspicion, especially since the stranger
chose not to wear his seatbelt.
Cherry let out a sigh of relief when the job was done,
although the feeling didn’t last long. When she returned to her car, she found
Orano sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees. Silent tears streamed
down his cheeks.
“I promise that one day you will get past this, Orano. It
might take some time, but it will happen.” Cherry kissed him on his forehead
and began the drive home, hoping she hadn’t just told a lie.
Chapter 2
Yesterday
Tori Houlton watched as the one person who could destroy
everything she’d worked for burst out the door and onto the busy street. Tori
could have unleashed many things that would teach that girl a sorely needed
lesson, but not out there. Not like this.
She let the door close and stalked back through the herbal
shop. Although she leased the retail space for her highly successful business,
only about half of its square footage held any inventory. The rest sat hidden
behind a wall of shelves stocked with lotions, powders, and other concoctions.
Virginia Beach had become trendy, and with that distinction came wealthy
patrons with disposable income. Tori’s skills as an herbalist made her the
go-to girl for every yuppie trophy wife within a fifty-mile radius, but her
purpose in life was fulfilled by the activities that took place in the rear of
the shop.
The bookshelf that served as the door to her back room hung
ajar on its hinges after her hurried chase through the store. Tori paused
before crossing the threshold, running her fingers through her short, blond
hair
and taking a deep breath. Once she’d collected herself,
she joined her guests who looked eager to hear the outcome.
“I didn’t get to her in time. We’ll have to deal with her
another way,” Tori said to the three women standing around the table that sat
in the middle of the space, its centerpiece their altar honoring Morrighan. The
women made up her inner circle, as the rest of the coven had taken to calling
them.
As High Priestess of Sherwood coven, Tori led dozens of
powerful witches. Since beginning her reign seven years earlier, she’d more
than tripled their ranks, giving her the power base needed to accomplish their
goal. The unexpected visitor she’d caught snooping around that morning could
put an end to her plan. She couldn’t let that happen, not when they were so
close to completion.
“Um, was that Gracey?” Joy Remson looked ready to throw up.
Her bright and cheerful blue eyes no longer held their usual sparkle, and her
skin had turned sallow.
“Yes, but that doesn’t change anything. We’ll deal with her
just as we would any other coven member. Am I clear?” Tori stared down each
woman until they nodded in agreement. “We don’t have much time. As far as we
know, Gracey could be calling the authorities right now.”
“We could use the
cerritus
spell.”
Liza Sims stood strong as she waited for a response. As the most loyal and
unabashed of the three, she’d become Tori’s right hand and closest confidant.
Joy all but collapsed into her chair at the suggestion. “We
can’t do that. Gracey’s a direct descendant of the founder.” Although loyal to
a fault, her soft heart often got in the way.
The third and final member of the inner circle, Nicole
Burns, took a tentative step backward, as though putting physical space between
her and Joy would somehow show her allegiance to her coven leader.
Tori placed a sympathetic smile on her face and sauntered
over to the table. “I understand your reticence but, regardless of her
bloodline, she needs to be stopped.” She pulled her hand from her pocket and
gently rubbed the back of Joy’s neck, soothing her.
Until Joy’s eyes shot open and she bolted from her chair. “
Wha
—?” she choked out. Her hands clasped round her throat
in a futile effort to open her airways. Eyes that once shone bright bulged from
their sockets, blood already ringing their edges as she sank to her knees.
“I am your high priestess, Joy. Do not question me.” Tori
had neither the time nor the inclination to talk through any reservations that
might be lingering among her inner circle. The time for dissension had passed.
Now, with things already underway, her people needed to fall in line.
Tori allowed Joy to suffer long enough for the skin on her
cheeks to turn purple. Once she felt her point made, she reached into her pocket
and pulled out a small mojo bag. Placing it on the table, Tori untied the
ribbon until its four corners flopped open. Fine powder plumed and hung in the
air, causing both Liza and Nicole to recoil.
Tori used her manicured nail to push aside the rosemary and
bone meal, then picked up the agate crystal slice and crushed it between her
fingers. With the crystal destroyed, the mojo bag became no more than a
collection of herbs and bone dust.
Joy gasped, dragging air into her aching lungs. Tears
streamed down her cheeks where a healthy rouge began to return. “I’m …” she
swallowed to clear her raspy voice. “I’m sorry.”
Nicole handed her a tissue and helped her into the chair.
“Liza, grab what we need for the
cerritus
spell. Quickly.” Tori took her place at the head of the table. Neither Joy nor
Nicole would hold her eye contact for more than a moment.
Good
, she thought.
When Liza returned, they made quick work of the spell. The
ingredients included some of the most dangerous herbs of all—the baneful
ones—and they were careful to keep those a safe distance from the altar.
Foxglove, jimsonweed, and belladonna were pulverized with a charmed mortar and
pestle, while inscribed candles burned. As soon as they finished, they poured
the powder into a small jar.
“I’ll do it,” Joy said, obviously trying to win back Tori’s
favor.
“Thank you for offering, but I’ll take care of this myself.”
A moment later, a frumpy older lady stood where Tori had been. Glamour spells
were one of her specialties. “I’ll be back shortly.”
To
purchase the next installment in the Omega Group series, click below.
Thank you so very much for spending your time with
Pandora
. I hope you enjoyed reading the
story as much as I enjoyed creating it.
If I could make one request of you … Please take a moment to
write a review of this book on Amazon.
Your comments will not only help me improve this series, but they will
also have a huge impact on the success of it.
A few minutes of your time will make an enormous difference.
Click
HERE
to post your review, and thank you.
Now for the fun stuff.
Pandora
was a bit of a departure for me. Although the Greek gods have been part of the
Omega Group stories from the beginning, they didn’t spend much time in the
spotlight. I wanted to change that for this book, and thank you for allowing me
to do so.
There are many interpretations of Greek Mythology out there,
some fascinating and some downright creepy. I hope I was able to ride that fine
line, while still staying true to the tales we all know and love. Obviously,
some of my gods and goddesses make a departure from their commonly accepted
roles, and I hope you will forgive that latitude.
It might interest you to know that Flip really is any
ancient Greek name and, yes, it does mean “friends with horses.” He was not, as
far as I know, an actual god. But with a name like that, I would expect that,
had he been a deity, his existence would have been as unfortunate as our
Flip’s.
And, speaking of names, we had more winners in my Name a
Character After Me contest. As most every character in this story was based on
Greek Mythology, I was only able to draw two winners. Jill Gulick, our
government liaison who swept Flip off his feet, and Danica Dumore, our new CNN
anchor whose predecessor just couldn’t handle the stress. I’m sure Danica will
hold up much better. If you’d like your name to be used in my next novel, visit
my website at
www.AndreaDomanski.com
and click on “Contest.”
There are some amazing people that I really need to thank.
The members of the WorldWiseWriters group are a constant source of support (and
laughs, and more laughs). They are Rowanna Green, Hannah Sullivan, JD Faulkner,
Jacky Gray, and SM Freedman. Without their wisdom, generosity, and eagle eyes,
this journey wouldn’t be nearly as enjoyable.
Tom Haase and Pat Mason also deserve a big thank you. Our
weekly coffee meetings keep me writing. Bouncing ideas off of one another and
pointing out each other’s writing quirks (who knew I used the word “was” too
much?) makes me a better writer, and I can’t express how much that means to me.
And, of course, my wonderfully accepting husband and our two
brilliant children. The torment I put them through every time I get stuck on a
plot point (it happens more often than I’d like to admit) must drive them
crazy. Yet they stand by me, full of unconditional love and support.
As I’m sure you deduced from the last “teaser” line in the
epilogue, the next book in the Omega Group series is already in the works. To
find out about new releases, sign up for my newsletter by visiting my website
or clicking
HERE
.
Thank you again for reading
Pandora
. I can’t wait to read your review on Amazon and see your
name in the Character Contest. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get to read an email
from you at
[email protected]
.
Looking forward to it.
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The Omega Group Series