Free The Pandora Curse (Greek Myth Series Book 4) by Elizabeth Rose Page A

finding it nearly empty. “You don’t really plan on helping her win the competitions do you?” He popped a crumb of cheese into his mouth.
    “No.” Nikolai picked up a comb from the night table and ran it through his hair. “I plan on advising her, but I cannot allow her to win any of the competitions. If she does, she will not change. She needs to want to change in order to give up her vices to me freely. If she feels she is incompetent at a sport or game, then that will motivate her to listen to my advice.”
    “What do you mean?” Baruch picked at a leftover crust of bread.
    “She needs to feel like a failure. Humiliated. She needs to lose for once in her life.”
    Nikolai finished combing his hair and then laid out a traveling bag and began to pack.
    “So, it sounds like you’re going to make sure she loses.”
    “Not me. You.”
    “What?” The minion’s eyes opened wide and he nearly choked on his food. “That woman is dangerous. First she skewered me to a table and then she nearly broke my ribs. I will not help. No. I will be no part in whatever you have in that scheming head of yours.”
    “Fine. Then you can go back to Hera every night and tell her that her plan isn’t working. That should make her mad enough to punish you.”
    Baruch furrowed his brow and pushed the empty platter away with a sigh. “All right, I’ll help. What do I have to do?”
    “I don’t know yet,” said Nikolai, pulling the string closed on his traveling bag. “But I will not be losing my only attribute as a demi-god because I have failed Hera’s task. I will do whatever it takes to collect all the vices and lock them inside Pandora’s chest.”
    “All right. Let me ride in your pouch. I’m tired,” said Baruch. “I’ll make myself into something small.”
    “No.” Nikolai shook his head. “I have a much better idea how to keep you out of trouble. And what I have in mind is nothing small.”
     
    *  *  *
     
    Vara’s day was not going as planned. The prisoners had caused an uproar, and she personally made her way down the dungeon stairs to survey the situation. She’d never imprisoned anyone before, although she had done her share of killing. Her gut twisted in agony, thinking of the horrible things she’d done to escape the restless turmoil of the Furies constantly invading her brain.
    If only her great-grandmother, Pandora, had never opened the chest. Things would be different. She wasn’t sure what caused the Furies to switch from taunting those who had killed, to taunting those who hadn’t, and urging them to do so. One part of her was repulsed and ashamed of her past actions. Another part felt satisfied and powerful. She was more than one person, but living in one body. How much more of this could she endure before she went mad?
    “Damn this curse,” she spat, trying to ignore the smell of the prisoners’ rancid cells, wanting to block her ears from the foul language the Corinthian soldiers shouted when they saw her.
    “Let us out,” shouted one soldier, banging on the bars that blocked him into his confinement.
    “Kill Vara,” cried another, which only caused them all to join in unison, shouting louder and louder, chanting their vengeful tune as if they were one.
    “Kill Vara, kill Vara, kill Vara,” came their words of hatred, and she could not blame them. She had done horrible things, and a part of her felt as if she deserved all this.
    “What shall we do?” asked Zetes, standing at her side. “Shall I have them flayed my lady?”
    Vara watched the angry faces and blazing eyes of the prisoners as they waved their hands and threw their food through the bars. One man hit her with half a rotten potato. Startled, she backed up quickly, stumbling against the cold, stone wall.
    “Give me the word and I’ll have that one hanged immediately,” Zetes told her, urging her to reprimand and make an example of the accused.
    Do it, Vara.
    Hang him, flay them all. Make them suffer.
    They can’t