Ancient Awakenings

She hurried her footsteps down the alley. This was not part of the plan. Something grabbed her foot. A bottle, a branch, or a hand – either way she found herself flat on the pavement, cheek to the ground, face to foot with a very large, very black, boot.

A hand grabbed her upper arm and hauled her to her feet. His cool touch seeped through the thick fabric of her jacket and attacked her flesh. A vampire—the same vampire she had been waiting for to help her find Pandora’s Box.

“I’m sorry,” a deep voice said. “Are you okay, then?”

“Yes, thanks.” For a vampire she didn’t expect him to be so polite. 

“I’m Nickolaos Petralias.” he extended his hand. “You are Ophelia Vallas?”

“Yes,” she accepted his hand and gasped at the spark of electricity cascading through her body.

For the first time she chanced looking the vampire in the eye. Even in the dark, his eyes were piercing blue and his hair— black as night. Tall and lean in the waist, he was divine. Her heart began to race and her nerves jittered with excitement as she gazed at him. She knew from her research vampires could hear, smell, taste and see what others couldn’t.

“We should probably get you out of this alley,” his head moved slightly to the left, his eyes darkened and his body tensed.

“What is it?”

“Nights in Greece aren’t exactly as safe as people would like to believe.”

She only nodded and followed him out of the alley.

Three Weeks Before

Ophelia Vallas stared at her invitation one last time before ringing the doorbell.  Nervous beyond belief, her heart pounded frantically against her chest, threatening to break free. Her stomach rolled in anticipation and her throat felt dry. 

She was in the middle of the woods in North Carolina, where this small cottage sat alone. She had received an invite to join Sebastian Clemmons, who was a professor at the university where she taught Greek Mythology. He had several degrees in Greek Mythology, British History and Irish Studies and was well known throughout campus.

The door opened and on the other side stood an older man with graying hair, wearing a long purple cloak. “Ophelia Vallas?” 

Swallowing nervously she nodded. 

“Sebastian Clemmons, so lovely of you to join me this evening. Please come inside.” He moved to the side to allow her to enter.

She looked around the house, though small, it looked to be only one story. She doubted anyone but Sebastian lived in this small cottage. There were no pictures of family on the walls. There wasn’t a woman’s touch and he wasn’t wearing a wedding band. She perched on the edge of the brown, dusty couch, as he sat in a brown rocking chair, its paint chipped and faded. The room was full of books on mythological creatures, Greek Gods and Goddesses, Irish legends, castles among other topics.  

Calmer, she asked, “I’m sorry, why am I here? Am I the only one attending?” 

“Yes, you are. No need to worry.” He could sense her nerves. “I am not going to harm you. In fact, I need your help.”

“What could I possibly do to help you?”   

“Do you know what Ophelia means?” he asked.

“It basically means to help,” she replied. 

“You are involved in charity work and you have a doctorate in Greek Mythology. It is my job to know everything about the next in line.”

“The next in line?”

“What I am about to tell you may frighten you.” He leaned forward. “I assure you, it’s the truth. Have you heard of the Greek legend involving Pandora’s Box?”

She nodded.

After a moments hesitation he began his story. “Zeus ordered Hephaestus to create Pandora to punish mankind, according to ancient Greek Mythology.  Pandora’s Box held gifts from Zeus. These gifts were evil things that could destroy: toil, illness, despair and hope. Hope was never released. Zeus didn’t want hope to overshadow mankind, or by Pandora, who was created with all the best attributes from the other Goddesses. Or maybe by something inhuman.”

“Inhuman?” Ophelia questioned puzzled.

“Some philosophers believe that an immortal is the only creature who cannot open the box. It has to be human.”

“Pandora opened the box. She was a Goddess, which is considered immortal,” Ophelia countered. 

“Yes, but did she open the box because she couldn’t refuse the temptation or because Zeus ordered her to do so?”

“Because Zeus created her.” She bit her bottom lip. “Zeus could have ordered her to close the box before hope was released.”

“As you see, my child, there are many contradictions to the myth, and many takes on what really happened.”

“But you know…” Wait a second…it suddenly dawned on her that he knew an awful lot about the workings of the Gods.  

“I am a sorcerer, filled with wisdom and knowledge. It is my job to know all. We have been trying for centuries to find someone to locate Pandora’s Box. Only the woman with the first name Ophelia can find the box, with the help of an immortal.”

“Why go through all of this? You know where the box is, tell me it’s location and I will get it for you.”

“If only it were that easy, I wouldn’t still be here.”

“Why did the women before me fail?”

“The simple answer is they didn’t believe.”

“Believe in what?”

“That’s for you, my dear, to figure out. Then it will be up to you to believe.”

Current Time

Once settled in Nickolaos’ home, hidden beyond the world, Ophelia was certain she would never find it on her own. She decided it was time to get to business.

“Have you tried to find Pandora’s Box before this?” 

He sighed, loud and heavy. “Many times,”

“Do you know who has the box?”

He inhaled deeply and then exhaled. “The only thing that matters is that we find it.”

“If I’m going to be risking my life, I have a right to know who has it!” Frustrated she began to pace his small, dark living room. Everything about his house was dark.  

“A vampire clan, out to destroy mankind.”

“Immortals can’t open Pandora’s Box unless Zeus himself grants the request.” She would think about an evil vampire clan being in possession of Pandora’s Box later.

“According to some legends.”

“You don’t believe that?” Shocked, she turned to see him leaning against the far wall watching her.

“After centuries of looking, I’m not sure what I believe anymore.”

“Can you read my mind?” she asked only because she was curious. 

There was silence. “No.” He looked dismayed by that realization.

According to some legends vampires couldn’t read the mind of their lifemates. Did this mean they were lifemates? More than ever, she realized her life and her heart were at risk.

Read Part Two