“It’s nice out, isn’t it?” he asked.
We were in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t recognize anything. The highway was gone, and all I could see were hundreds upon hundreds of darkened trees. I coughed again and surveyed my surroundings. Taking off my high heels, I stood upright.
“Do you know where we are?” He walked to one of the ghostly trees and leaned against it with his hands clasped together behind his head.
I turned to the limo. Ben.
Gideon approached me. I tried to move away, but as soon as I took a step back, I bumped into something and whirled around, only to meet Gideon’s now deep-gold eyes. I trembled.
“You know, I’m going to kill you one way or another, right?” His dark, untidy hair fluttered in the breeze, and his dazzling golden eyes turned a molten red.
He was going to kill me? A ‘thank you for the ride’ would have been more preferable.
“Wait here,” he said, holding his palm toward me. “I’ll be right back.”
Before I could respond he was standing beside the burning limo. I looked around wildly. Run, Abby! I told myself as my hot tears cooled on my cheeks. I sprinted toward the edge of the forest as fast as my legs would carry me. I didn’t know where I was running to, but I knew I needed to get as far away from Gideon as I could.
Of course it would only be a matter of seconds before he caught up to me, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t let that happen. The panic was still rattling in my chest, but it was no longer paralyzing. Now that I could move, I struggled to remember all my training lessons with Logan.
Twigs snapped beneath my bare feet, and more scratched against my face and my legs as I ran. I didn’t try to protect myself from the raking branches—they were the least of my worries. I stopped for a moment, sucking in air. There was a cold and soulless voice whispering all around me. I turned left and right, and I still couldn’t see what called to me.
I squinted into the darkness. The voice grew louder, and then I saw it. A shadow without a face. I rushed on blindly, crashing into roots and stones. Branches slapped against my arms and face and my fatigued body dripped with blood and sweat. My lungs burned. Suddenly, I stumbled over a tree root and crashed to the ground.
There’s nowhere to run now, Abigail. I told myself. But I could stay and fight. Logan had taught me that much.
“All right!” I shouted, ignoring how my heart jumped uncontrollably. “I’m not scared of you.” That was a lie. “Where are you?”
I had no weapon to fight Gideon, but I was determined to do whatever I could to survive. If I was going to go down, I was going to go down fighting.
“I’m not afraid!” I lied again, pushing myself off the ground and standing.
My lungs burned from my panicked exertion. My feet throbbed with cuts and blisters. I limped a few steps and then stumbled again. I tried to stand, but this time a sharp pain in my ankle stopped me. Running would obviously be out of the question. I tried to crawl, but my hands were raw and bleeding.
“I’m still not afraid of you,” I said through my tears.
I was about to shout out to Gideon again when I heard footsteps. I thought about giving up, but realized I didn’t want to die in the middle of nowhere, where I’d never be found. I lay still, trying to keep from giving away my position by rustling the dry leaves. Beads of blood oozed from the scrapes and scratches on my skin. I pressed myself flat on the hard soil, unmoving, tears running down my face.
“Don’t ever entertain strangers, Abigail,” I heard my father’s voice say in my head. I wished I’d listened to him.
I felt movement around me. Not heard. Felt. Someone was coming toward me, closer and closer, step by step. I inched myself around and there he was, standing in front of me as if he had been there the whole time. Without warning, my body flew into the air and then slammed onto the ground. How? He wasn’t close enough to touch me. Pain raced through my limbs. I groaned, but I scrambled to my feet all the same.
Gideon approached me. “You’re a brave one, aren’t you?” He sounded impressed, despite himself.
I struggled to catch my breath.
“Still not scared of me?” he asked. “You really should be.”
Before I knew it, Gideon was lifting me bodily into the air, his right hand clenched under my lower jaw. He choked me, and his blood-red eyes grew brighter as he fed on my pain. I fought uselessly. I folded my fingers around his hand, trying to break his grip on my throat, but I had no strength left to stop him.
“Let me make it easier on you.” He threw me into a tree, and I felt my spine give way, destroyed, as it bashed against the trunk. I cried in agony as my broken body crumpled to the ground.
I fought to regain my breath. I turned my eyes back to him, and as I watched, his hands began to glow with red-hot fire. Curious. I should be frightened, and I suppose that I was, but mainly, I was curious. Glowing. His hands were glowing. What now? And then I knew what now: he rolled his hands together, as though he were crumpling a newspaper, and a ball of red flames formed between them. Larger and larger it grew, and then, without warning, he hurled the ball of flames right at me. I could not raise my hands to defend myself, could not even roll out of the way. I cried out as I saw my own refection in the flames, and then—
I died.
PARANORMAL STRANGER
Abigail!” my mother called, jolting me from my sleep.
As I regained consciousness, I felt aches and stiffness all throughout my body, the bruises from last night’s training. It had been a dream. The party. Gideon. All of it.
I opened my eyes, wheezing and sweating on my bed, my heart still racing. Had I been…burnt to ashes?
I was finally able to exhale as I realized I was safe in my room. My bed sheets were damp with sweat. More than damp. Holy cow, they looked like I’d turned a hose on them. For a second, I ignored the worried look on my mother’s face, but then I fought down my panic, hoping to keep her from being alarmed. I moved my hand to my head, feeling the lingering pain caused by the limo’s wreck. A sense of urgency and danger still twanged along my nerves.
I tried to remember what had happened in the dream, but the more I grasped at the remnants, the faster it faded.
“Bad dream?” my mother asked, her voice cracked with concern.
I nodded. “I think so. I don’t really remember what it was about.” Was I still dreaming? When I looked outside my window, the sun was pearly gray with early morning light. “What time is it?” I asked, remembering school.
Last night when we’d got home, I’d gone straight to bed.
“Time to get up for school or you’d be late,” she answered. “Your father left, hon. He wanted to say goodbye but you were asleep, and he didn’t want to wake you.”
So my morning wasn’t starting off so well. A nightmare I didn’t remember about someone named Gideon, and my father leaving without saying goodbye? Top all that off with blooming bruises from last night’s training and I might just declare this the worst day ever.
“I’LL SEE YOU guys after school,” I told my bodyguards, Ben and Felix. “I can handle it from here.” I took my schoolbag from Ben and the two of them went on their way, giving me a chance to breathe again.
Sometimes I didn’t understand why my bodyguards bothered to follow me everywhere, considering I wore a wristwatch that doubled as a tracking device. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and counted the seconds until my friends arrived.
Lucky for me, it didn’t take long.
“What’s up, people?” Jake asked as he entered the classroom. Danny and Tristan followed close behind him.
Tristan was the new guy as of last month, and Jake and Danny had befriended him, so he’d become part of our group. He was also the guy that Sarah insisted was going to be my boyfriend. He and I had gone sightseeing twice now, and Sarah refused to believe a sightseeing trip was not a date.
I tried to convince her that we’d shared two awkward conversations and one cappuccino (and I didn’t so much share the
cappuccino with him as spill it on him out of sheer nervousness), but she would not be moved. Being awkward and nervous around him meant I liked him, she said, and deep down, I knew she wasn’t completely wrong. All the same, I knew she wasn’t completely right, either. He was friendly, but I couldn’t imagine him being, um, boyfriendly. For one thing, I thought he was out of my league.
The first time Tristan had walked into our classroom he’d set the pulse of every girl fluttering. He looked like a fairy tale hero. Handsome truly wasn’t a sufficient description. It didn’t even come close.
The guys walked over and settled in. “Good morning, Abby,” Tristan said, sitting beside me. Danny and Jake took their seats in front of us.
“Morning,” I mouthed.
Jake put his skateboard on the floor and tossed his school bag beside him. When I looked back over at Tristan, our eyes met. He smiled at me, showcasing yet another indescribable feature, his perfectly brilliant teeth.
No one should be that handsome.
His presence often left me tongue-tied, but Tristan was laid back and calming for all that. It was impossible not to feel at ease around him, once you got used to those dashing good looks.
“How was your weekend Abby?” When Tristan talked to me I usually acted as though I hadn’t heard him, because whenever I tried to respond I said something that embarrassed me. He kept trying all the same. I decided last week to always say three words to him at a time. None would be rude, and it would be hard to trip myself up in just three.
I tugged at my sleeves self-consciously, trying to hide the weekend’s bruises. My body still looked, and felt, pretty rough after my last training session with my father.
“It was amazing.” I answered. No need for any details. See? Three words. It worked.
Pointing at my wristwatch, Tristan asked, “Can I see that?”
I stretched my hand toward him. The moment his hand touched my wrist, the pain disappeared. My entire body stopped aching. I pulled my arm away from him and pushed up my sleeve. To my surprise, the bruises had gone.
What the hell…? I looked at Tristan, and then back at my arm.
“I had… ” I stopped as I realized I couldn’t remember what I wanted to say. Something about my arm. I didn’t even know why I was staring at it. I hastily pulled down my sleeve, not really sure why I had shoved it up in the first place.
Tristan looked concerned. “Everything all right, Abigail?”
“Yeah. I mean, no. I mean, I need to pee,” I blurted. I quickly put my hand over my mouth just as my friends and Tristan broke into laughter. “I meant… yes, I’m all right.”
Great. So much for three words at a time! I stood and rushed to the door, avoiding eye contact with everyone as I hurried through the classroom.
Hurry up, Abby, I told myself. I hoped that by the time I got back, Tristan would have moved to another country.
OK I like Tristan. If only liking someone didn’t make me act like a complete moron. Since it did, I would have to take a lot of bathroom breaks.
I really should have looked before bursting out into the hallway. Klutz that I am, I slammed right into someone. I didn’t apologize at first. Instead I kept my head down to hide my embarrassment. Looking down, all I could see of the student I’d bumped into was his boots. His heavy black boots. Very familiar black boots. I quickly glanced up at the boy’s face, and my blood turned to ice water.
“Gideon.” The flickering memory of my nightmare came rushing back all at once.
Everything stopped. Even my heart.
I remembered almost everything, in the disconnected jumble that dreams take on when examined in the light of day. The stranger from my nightmare in black boots and scruffy black hair. I remembered him introducing himself, Gideon, asking for a ride, and then chasing me in the forest—and I remembered him killing me. His face wouldn’t come back to me clearly, but his name, and his air of danger, did.
“Excuse me,” the student said, and I immediately pulled away from him a few steps.
I was shaking, but managed to stammer an apology. “I am so… so sorry.”
“Yeah, whatever. Wait: do I know you?” he asked.
Now that I looked at him, this boy seemed just as perfect, and just as inhuman in his way, as Tristan. From his dark plaid shirt, to his exquisitely sculpted features, everything about him looked unnatural. Beautiful, but deeply unsettling in a way Tristan was not. Tristan’s attractiveness was heavenly. This boy’s was just unearthly. I wanted to get away from him, and I wanted to do it as soon as possible.
“No. No, you don’t,” I answered awkwardly, and hurried past him down the hall.
When I had turned a corner and was out of sight I finally slowed down a bit. The world around me spun in circles. The faces in the hall dissolved, becoming unfocused images.
I might have kept on walking if Sarah hadn’t spotted me and pulled me back to reality. She sidled up beside me just as the morning bell rang.
“Where are you off to? Aren’t you, scratch that, aren’t we supposed to be in history?”
“I was just… headed for the ladies’ room.” I wanted to tell her about my nightmare, but I didn’t want her to make fun of me for getting spooked over a bad dream.
“So was I. I want to touch up my eyeliner. It takes work to be this gorgeous all the time, you know.” Soon we were standing next to one another in front of the mirror. Sarah vaguely looked as though she were doing something with her makeup, but she was perfect when she started and perfect again when she’d finished. I had no idea what she’d done. “I can’t wait for tonight,” she said, tucking a compact into her bag. “The concert is going to be awesome.”
“What concert?”
Her brow furrowed. “You forgot? You bought the tickets!”
I had forgotten all about it. We’d made plans last month to go see one of our favorite bands when their tour brought them to San Francisco. They were playing to a sold-out crowd at the War Memorial Opera House. I gave her an apologetic look.
“You are coming. Jake and I have a plan to sneak you out of your house.”
She had me at sneak. “Of course I’m going. Especially if you can actually sneak me out.”
We headed back to the classroom and took our seats. I shared a smile and a shrug with Tristan as I sat down, and then we turned our attention to Mr. Bernard, our history and English literature teacher, who was clapping for silence.
“I’m going to divide you into groups for the Titanic memorabilia speech. Remember, this project is worth fifteen percent of your grade.” I could use that, since I’d missed a test last month having an arm I’d injured during training x-rayed.
“Mr. Silas, you and Miss Cells will be group four.” And there went my grade. Tristan was smart and all, but I couldn’t talk to the guy without making a fool out of myself. How was I supposed to work with him?
Tristan gave me a quick high five, and his enthusiasm caused me to forget that I hadn’t wanted to work with him.
“Miss Tate, you and Mr. Duran are—” Mr. Bernard was interrupted by the sound of the door as it burst open. Everyone looked toward the noise.
Standing in the doorway was the student I’d bumped into. My heart dropped. I prayed he was lost and wasn’t in our class, though I didn’t quite understand my uneasiness at seeing him. He did give me bad vibes, but on the other hand, he was totally hot. That should work in his favor, no?
“You must be Mr. Chase,” Mr. Bernard said, and the boy walked in, letting the door close behind him.
“I am.” The mysterious Mr. Chase looked around the classroom, and his gaze stopped on Tristan.
To my surprise, Tristan looked like he knew the boy. He nodded and gave him a half-hearted smile.
“Nice to meet you, young man. You’re late.” Leave it to Mr. Bernard to not give the new kid a break.
“I was actually here before the bell rang.” He tipped his head toward me. “Miss Cells can vouch for me.” I wondered how he knew my name, but then I remem
bered I was known pretty much everywhere—the price of being famous. “She bumped into me and ran off.”
Someone please shoot me now. A few people chuckled, tight, nervous laughter. Jake cast a backward glance at me and grinned.
“You’re excused this time, Mr. Chase. Find a seat. I’ll assign you to a group.”
Danny raised a hand to volunteer. “Mr. Chase can join Jake and me.” I wasn’t surprised. The new kid looked like trouble, and trouble was what he and Jake did best.
“It’s Gideon,” the boy said. “Gideon Chase.”
At the sound of his name I blurted out “what?” And then all eyes turned to me. I hadn’t realized I’d said it out loud.
Gideon? His name was actually Gideon? Why Gideon?
My outburst had obviously startled Mr. Bernard. “Miss Cells, is there a problem?” he asked. Gideon stood beside him, confused, but the moment his eyes met mine, he smiled as if he knew why I was scared.
“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t—” I looked down in humiliation.
Maybe it was just a coincidence. This guy couldn’t be the same Gideon from my nightmare.
“Well, then,” Mr. Bernard continued. “Take a seat, Mr. Chase.”
Gideon walked over to join Jake and Danny and paused beside my table. My heart took a violent leap as he bent down and whispered into my ear, “Breathe,” which of course left me completely breathless.
My first impression of Gideon was that he was dangerous.
My second impression of him was that he was hot.
My third impression of him was that he was a murderer, because if the rest of my nightmare proved to be as true as my recollection of his name had been, he was going to kill me.
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