ANOTHER DAY OF TORTURE for Ricardo Devanez.
Megan wanted desperately to skip over the brutal details, but the reports had interwoven the questions and answers into the torment inflicted on that poor man.
She drew a deep breath and closed her eyes. She'd give herself a break for a few minutes. The first part of the report had not been too bad, the preliminary heresy investigation into the Devanez family. Painstaking reports from the local priests who'd been ordered to spy on José Devanez and all his close and distant relations were repeated. Both the immense wealth the clan had acquired and the stories the peasants told of their strange powers were carefully documented as the Tribunal prepared to act.
Strange powers, indeed, Megan thought. A good many of the stories had to be fabricated. A shape changer who turned into a beast at the full moon, healers, mind readers, a woman whose touch made an old woman go mad, a child who could find water on barren land. With such outrageous stories circulating the countryside, it was no wonder that the family had been put at risk. They had been charitable, peaceful, and tending to keep to themselves, yet even their kindness aroused suspicion. They were accused of deception and secret devil worshiping.
It was when the priests had captured Ricardo Devanez that the report became almost unbearable to read. He had held out for three hideous days of extreme torture before he broke and told them of the exodus of his family from Spain. At the point where she had stopped they were making him talk about the family members and their demonic powers. José who could see the future and tell if a venture would be successful, Isabelle, his daughter, who could grow flowers where there was no sunlight or rain, his brother Diego, who could make fire by wishing it to flare.
Was it truth as Ricardo saw it, or telling his torturers what they wished to hear? It didn't matter. Megan had to finish the report. But she'd try to scan the rest and see if there was anything to which she could relate. So far Ricardo had not mentioned any Listeners among the family members.
She opened her eyes and started to read again. Skim, don't absorb that horror.
Ricardo must have been babbling at this point, pouring out his soul. The list of psychic talents was astonishing and Ricardo gave names and examples. If any of these people were captured by Torquemada's agents, there would have been no doubt they would have been burned at the stake.
It was almost at the end of the report, the last page, that Ricardo started to talk about his sister, Rosa, who was a Listener.
Megan stiffened, her gaze flying over the paragraph:
Clearly the most heinous and wicked of all the demons, the priest wrote. Not only did the woman hear voices from hell, but she was a demon incarnate herself. It's fortunate that the subject, Ricardo Devanez, states that only with great rarity was a woman with that power born. Because each Listener almost always is also possessed of the darker curse they are generally known as a Pandora.
Megan froze, memories rushing back to her.
The night at the cave when her mother died.
Not Pandora. Not Pandora. Not Pandora.
Molina questioning Edmund.
"Tell me about the Pandoras."
Darker curse? What on earth could be the nature of the curse the priest had written about?
And this report wasn't complete, dammit. There were the last two pages that Grady had withheld from her.
She jumped to her feet, strode to the adjoining door, and pounded on it. When he opened the door, she said, "I want those last two pages. And I want to know about these Pandoras."
"You'll get the pages. But I wanted to be here to answer questions. The Tribunal's description of Pandoras is colorful but hardly unbiased." He stepped aside. "Come in. I'll give you a cup of coffee and we'll talk about it."
"I don't want to talk-Yes, I do." She moved past him and sat down in the easy chair by the window. "Give me that coffee."
He poured a cup from the carafe on the end table and handed it to her. "I'm at your service. Start your questions."
"The priest is talking about a dual 'curse' that's inflicted on women who are Listeners. I know I'm not listening to demons, so that's bullshit. What other hat am I supposed to be wearing? What else is a Listener supposed to be able to do?"
"Not all Listeners."
"Don't quibble. Ricardo says most listeners are also this… Pandora thing. What do they do?"
He was silent a moment, choosing his words. "According to the Tribunal's interpretation of Ricardo's confession, a Pandora is a demon who kills or drives mad."
She stiffened. "And that's obviously bullshit too."
"Not entirely." He added, "But the priest also quoted Ricardo's exact words as well as his own interpretation. Ricardo said that a Pandora was no demon, that she just opened doors."
"What?"
"Pandoras are facilitators. They have the power to release dormant psychic powers in those around them. If a person has even the smallest psychic ability, a Pandora is supposed to be able to trigger that talent."
She stared at him incredulously. "How?"
He shrugged. "Ricardo didn't know. Believe me, the priests spent a long time trying to make him talk about it. They thought they'd found an archdemon in Rosa Devanez. All they could get out of him was that he thought she had to touch them." He paused. "And sometimes it went wrong. Sometimes the person she tried to help break through the barriers went mad. One man was later found dead after she visited him."
Megan frowned. "But why would that happen?"
"Michael and I have discussed it and we think there's a possibility that some minds just can't handle it. There's no picking and choosing which psychic ability. You only get what's inherently there. And even if the subject thinks he wants the power, when it comes, it sometimes completely blows them away. It's too much, too soon. It's like giving a massive dose of heroin to someone who's never had it before."
She shivered. "And why would Rosa want to prance merrily along tossing out psychic powers like Johnny Appleseed did his seeds?"
"Evidently the subjects volunteered and there were some successes. Ricardo said that Rosa was able to help her cousin, Maria, become a great Finder. And her uncle, Franco, suddenly acquired the same gift of prediction José possessed after he spent a few days with her."
"Then if there's good and bad, why did they call her a Pandora? According to mythology, wasn't Pandora supposed to have opened a box and released all the troubles into the world?"
"It depends on how deeply you probe into the myth," Grady said. "According to the writings of Hesiod, Pandora was given gifts from all the gods and that's why her name was Pandora, which means all gifts. Hermes gave her cunning, boldness, and charm, Aphrodite gave her beauty, Apollo gave her musical ability and the power of healing, Hera gave her curiosity. Then Zeus threw in mischief and foolishness." He smiled. "But there are feminist scholars who argue that according to earlier myths Pandora was the great goddess who made life and culture possible. They say that accusing Pandora of being responsible for letting loose all the wickedness that made men miserable was just another ploy to make women shoulder the blame for everything that went wrong. There are several comparisons to Eve in the Garden of Eden." He paused. "But everyone agrees that there was hope in that box she opened. If hope was present, then why wouldn't there have been other good spirits as well as evil?"
"Because it's a myth and written by a man." Her lips tightened. "And it was easy to compare that poor Rosa Devanez to Pandora and her release of evil powers into the world, even though Rosa was asked to try to help those people."
"Good point. But Rosa wasn't the first Pandora in the family. According to Ricardo, at the time of the Inquisition the talent had already been passed down through the family for at least a hundred years. A facilitator didn't appear in every generation; it sometimes skipped three, even four. But it was always a woman and she was often a Listener."
"Ricardo told the priests all of those details?"
"I told you, the priests thought they had discovered an archfoe in Rosa Devanez. They wanted to know how to fight the demon when they hunted her down. They spent a long time questioning Ricardo about all the characteristics common to a Pandora."
"And what were they?"
"High energy, extreme empathy, intelligence, deep emotional responses." He paused. "Very strong sensuality. The last characteristic clenched her condemnation in Torquemada's eyes. Ricardo said the family forgave Pandoras for that fault since deep emotion would generate it, but it wasn't acceptable to the Tribunal."
"Is that all? Was there anything else in the report?"
"Only a final condemnation of the Devanez family and a resolution to search out and destroy the demons and heretics among them."
"Then why didn't you give those pages to me with the rest of the transcript? Why did you want to tell me about it yourself?"
"I think you know." He repeated softly, "High energy, extreme empathy, intelligence, deep emotional responses, sensuality. Sound familiar?"
Of course, it sounded familiar. "You're saying that I'm one of those Pandoras." She shook her head. "Even if I believed in this Pandora concept, that doesn't mean I'm one. Don't Listeners have similar characteristics?"
"Yes. On a lesser scale."
"And who knows if that part of Ricardo's confession isn't fabrication? Facilitation is even less believable than other psychic abilities."
"And frightening. The responsibility could be awesome. Touch someone and you create a Frankenstein." He smiled. "Or a Mother Theresa."
"I'm a doctor. I've handled a lot of people in my life and not one has turned into a monster or angel. So I think this so-called gift has passed me by."
"Perhaps. Even the family wasn't entirely sure how the talent worked. Ricardo did say it didn't manifest itself until a woman was in her mid-twenties. It could be that you haven't reached the right stage of development yet. Or maybe certain circumstances have to be present to trigger it."
She shook her head. "You're reaching. It's enough for me to accept being a Listener. I'm not going to let you throw this at me when there's no evidence. I'm not a Pandora."
"That's what your mother said," he said quietly. "It was the last thing she said to me. She was fighting admitting it until the end."
Not Pandora. Not Pandora. Not Pandora.
"And you knew it." His gaze was narrowed on her face. "I thought you did. That's why I didn't want you to read this part of the report when you were alone."
"She was dying. Why would she-"
"Because she was a Pandora, but she didn't want to admit it. If she accepted that she was a Pandora, then she'd have to accept that you'd probably become one. A Listener was bad enough, but a Pandora was big trouble. It had already destroyed her life."
"How?"
"Molino. She killed his son."
Megan shook her head. "No."
"She did it, Megan. She didn't stab him or shoot him, but she did kill him." He held her gaze. "No one deserved it more. I told you she was raped when she was held captive. It was Molino's son who did it, many, many times and with great brutality. That last night he brought her out by the campfire and started to rape her in full view of Molino and the rest of his men."
"You've already told me this," she said shakily. "I don't want to hear the details. It… hurts me."
"And I don't want to tell them to you. But I have to do it. It's time, Megan."
"I won't listen. I can't stand thinking about-" It didn't matter what she wanted or her own pain. This was her mother he was talking about. She had to listen. She braced herself. "Go on. Do it."
"There's not much more. It must have been like being surrounded by a pack of wolves for her. There was shouting and laughing, humiliation, and pain. She'd been raped by him before, but this was even more hideous. I don't know if it was an accumulation of the horror or if she just couldn't take it any longer. Something must have snapped in Sarah. She screamed. Then she grabbed hold of Molino's son's hand to stop him from touching her and screamed again. Everyone was laughing at her. It was a big joke." He stopped. "And then Steven Molino started screaming. He got off Sarah and backed away from her as if she had the plague. He was shrieking and crying and muttering curses. He ran off into the jungle. When they found him an hour later, he was still running, still trying to get away from Sarah. They brought him back to the camp and Molino arranged for a helicopter to pick them up. He was completely out of his head and muttering things that his father was thinking, that the other men in the camp were thinking."
"Mind reading," Megan whispered.
He nodded. "Evidently his latent talent. But it must have exploded in him like a rocket when Sarah grabbed his hand. Molino hustled his son on the helicopter and flew out to Nairobi to get him medical help. When they got off the copter, he was distracted for a moment when he was talking to the doctor who had met the flight." He shrugged. "A moment was all it took. Steven Molino turned and walked back into the rear blades of the helicopter. Not a pretty way to die."
"Good," she said fiercely. "I wish I could have been there to finish the job with a machete."
"So did I when we took Sarah back from them and I heard what happened from one of Molino's men we captured. But it wasn't necessary." He paused. "Sarah had taken care of it herself."
"Just because Molino's son went bonkers? That's pretty flimsy evidence that my mother had some kind of malignant power that sent him over the edge." She was trying to think clearly, logically. "Maybe it was guilt, or it could be he was schizophrenic anyway."
"Perhaps."
"But you don't believe it."
"The second page I was withholding from you was the report that Michael had compiled on your mother before Molino's son's death. Her DNA blood tests confirmed that she was connected to the core DNA family."
"How could you know that?"
"José Devanez was buried at his estate in Spain after his suicide." His lips twisted. "Not on hallowed ground, but I don't believe he would have cared considering the circumstances. I'm not sure what strings Michael pulled but he managed to get a DNA sample from José's remains."
"Even if she was a Devanez that doesn't mean my mother could destroy someone just by touching them. Rosa's story could be a fairy tale."
"Or it could be truth. The witnesses to that slimeball's death were sure that Sarah had driven him to it."
"And I'm supposed to believe a bunch of sadistic bastards who cheered when my mother was raped?"
"You'll believe what you have to believe. My job was to lay the facts before you. If you're the daughter of a Pandora, then you need to be prepared." He added roughly, "Your mother let you blunder through life ignorant and blind. I'll be damned if I'll let it go on."
Her hands clenched on the cup. "You'd rather I be terrified all my life of killing someone accidentally?"
"Ignorance breeds fear. If there's a chance the danger is there, then you should know about it and how to control it. If it took repeated rape to cause Sarah's gift to explode, then this facilitating can't be that easy. As far as I know, it never happened again with her. She didn't want the gift and she shunted it away from her. She refused to admit she possessed it."
"Perhaps she didn't. Perhaps Pandoras don't exist." He shook his head. "Lord, you're as stubborn as your mother. Whether you want to believe it or not, realize that Molino believes it. He saw what happened to his son, he saw Sarah turn his son into a madman. And when he stole the copy of those records from Michael's library, he made the connection. Oh, yes, Molino believes Pandoras exist. He regards them as a scourge upon the earth."
"Pot calling the kettle black," she said bitterly. "For God's sake, he's as bad as those priests who thought Rosa was an archdemon sent to destroy the world."
"He's worse. At least, the priests thought they had some reason to fear Rosa's gift. Your Johnny Appleseed comparison wasn't far off the mark. Indiscriminate facilitation could be a disaster. What if Hitler had had the power to see the future? Could he have changed it and won the war? What if Sadaam Hussein had the ability to read minds? Would he have been able to unite the Arab world against the West? Think about it."
"I don't want to think about it."
"Do it anyway. There may be other people who want to destroy you as much as Molino does if they become convinced you could be a chess piece in the enemy camp." He paused. "Or you could be killed because some idealistic do-gooder thinks they're going to save civilization by ridding it of a threat."
"Me? Ridiculous." But there were a lot of crackpots in the world. Grady's suggestion wasn't all that far-fetched, she thought with a shiver. "You're not being very encouraging."
"If the talent is a two-headed coin as Ricardo said, then it could be either hideous or wonderful. Since we don't have any concrete evidence of the pros and cons, you'll have to define them for yourself. Providing you don't choose to close your eyes and ignore the truth as Sarah did."
"My mother was happy and she made me happy. Maybe that's the way to go."
He smiled. "Don't give me that bull. I can't see you content to drift along, hiding from reality."
What he called reality right now was confusing and frightening. She didn't want to hide but she needed time to absorb and decide how much to believe and what to do next. She stood up and held out her hand. "Give me those last two pages."
"You don't believe me?" He went to the desk and picked up the fax sheets. "By all means, study them carefully."
She did believe what he had told her was the truth. "I have to see it for myself. Interpretation can alter everything. It's the only way it will sink home to me." She took the pages and turned toward the door. "Good night, Grady."
"If you need me, I'll be here," he said quietly.
"Thank you."
If you need me. Those words would have had an entirely different meaning earlier in the evening when she had been lost in a haze of sexuality. She gave him a ghost of a smile over her shoulder. "How quickly things change."
"Nothing's changed." He said curtly. "Not really. Give me any encouragement and I'd have you in bed in a heartbeat. But I'm not fool enough to think I have a chance while you're this upset. I can wait."
She felt a ripple of shock. "Evidently I was giving you too much credit for sensitivity."
"You want sensitive? I'd give you sensitive. Hell, I'd like to comfort you. But you're too defensive to accept it. So I'll take what I can get. You like sex. That's fine with me. My God, it's more than fine."
She had a sudden memory of the description of a Pandora in Ricardo's confession. "Don't believe everything you read. I'm no Pandora and any sensuality I possess is both normal and healthy."
He grimaced. "You see? Defensive. That's what I was afraid would happen when you read the Tribunal's report."
"Dammit, you've just told me I could be some kind of walking time bomb. I have a right to be defensive."
"Yes, you do. But not with me. I'm on your side. Believe me, other than the possibility of the Pandora talent, I think you're beautifully normal in every way. I don't give a damn what's in that report. You're no carbon copy. But I'm not going to ignore the fact that I know you like sex. I've been linked too closely to you not to realize that. And whatever you want, I'll give you." He added curtly, "And you'd better get out of here before I start elaborating. The line between sympathy and erotica are a little blurred in my mind right now."
Erotica. Grady's fingers caressing her throat. Her body changing, tensing, coming alive.
"Don't worry, I'm leaving. Good night." A few seconds later the door closed behind her. She hadn't needed those last few moments of sexuality thrown into the mix. She was confused and upset enough. Yet, in a way, that raw earthiness had grounded her after all the talk of Pandora and the horror her mother had undergone. Had that been Grady's intention? He was clever and he knew her very well.
Don't analyze, don't try to make excuses for Grady. She had to read these last pages and then think about what they meant to her. Wildly improbable? Yet in the beginning she had thought being a listener was beyond belief. Was her skepticism based on fear?
Then come to terms with it. Grady had said he was into controlling talents instead of letting them run wild. It made sense. She couldn't let herself be terrorized by her own helplessness to cope. She had conquered her fear of Listening. Well, almost. It was coming.
And it was doubtful that this Pandora thing would ever affect her in any meaningful way. As she had told Grady, as a doctor she had exhibited no signs of being a so-called facilitator. She might be worrying over nothing.
God, she hoped that was true.
"BET THEM, PAPA. I HATE THEM ALL. Why haven't you killed them yet?"
Another dream? But his son was standing there, gazing at him accusingly. "I'm trying, Steven."
"It's been too long. You have to kill all those freaks. Look what they did to me."
Steven's mangled face. His son's head flying from his body as the rotors struck him.
"Oh, my God." Molino was sobbing. "I know. I know. Forgive me."
"I'll forgive you when you kill the freaks." Steven smiled at him. "I'll help you. Together we can do it. We'll get all of them. We'll butcher the freaks."
"Yes. Together." Exhilaration flooded him. "We'll do it, Steven."
"You asked me to wake you if we heard from Falbon."
Molino sluggishly opened his eyes to see Sienna standing in the doorway. For a moment he thought Sienna was the dream figure instead of Steven. "What is it?"
"Falbon says the chartered plane landed in Munich. He's on his way there now."
Molino sat up in bed and shook his head to clear it. "Munich. Who did we have on the suspect list in Munich?"
"Renata Wilger. Edmund Gillem was seen with her on his last visit through Germany."
"Then Grady will be searching for her. Tell Falbon he has to find her first." He lay back down again and closed his eyes. "I want a report when I get up in the morning."
Sienna turned out the light and closed the door.
I'll help you, Papa.
Yes, help me, Steven. Molino was suddenly filled with boundless confidence. Who was to know if his son had not been able to break through the barriers of death to join with him? The freaks shouldn't have a monopoly on power.
Help me, and we'll butcher them all.