“How did you do it?” I followed her to the door. “You were in the backseat, and Jake was unconscious. The car was seconds away from Jake’s Toyota and—” I paused, catching the surprised look on Abigail’s face.
Oops.
Abigail jolted to a stop and turned to me. “How did you know that? Even Sarah and Danny didn’t see what happened because they were too busy freaking out.”
“I… ” I was typically skilled at lying, but at the moment, my mind froze. “I supposed that was what happened?” That was the best I could come up with?
“Were you following us?” she probed.
“Yeah. I’m a spy.”
Suddenly, I was pinned to the classroom wall with Abigail’s forearm pressing hard against my throat. How had she pinned me so fast? “You’re a spy?” she demanded.
I could have easily broken free, but I didn’t. Instead, I faked pain and acted as if I were trying to escape from her grip. I didn’t even want to think about what was going through Tristan’s head at the moment. To think she did all that in heels.
“I… I… ” I pretended I was choking. “Abigail, you’re—”
“Who are you? Did someone send you here after me?”
I’d give the girl one thing: she was different, entertaining even. “I… no… ” Her arm tightened around my neck.
“Then why did you say you were?” she demanded again.
I’d had enough. I swiftly grabbed her by the waist and broke away from her grip, reversing our positions and pinning her to the wall.
“I am not a spy!” I shouted. Our bodies were so close now that her cardigan swayed against my stomach. “I was only kidding!” Where the hell had that come from? How had she learned to do that? She was stronger than she looked. I should have read the file Daligo had given me, because now I was way past curious and was heading toward obsessed.
“Kidding?” Abigail hesitated. She seemed distracted by our proximity to each other. “Why, um, why would you kid about that?” I could hear the thumping of her heart, each beat faster and louder than the last.
“I… ” I didn’t know how to answer her question. “Because I… ” My eyes met hers. “Because I… ” I could feel her breath against my lips. “Because I… ” Her brown eyes looked so confused and… beautiful.
That thought shocked me, and I immediately pulled myself away. Where had a thought like that come from?
“I’m sorry about that.” She picked her bag up from the floor. “I heard spy, and I assumed you were with one of the tabloids.”
That was her excuse? “So you go all karate crazy on every paparazzi guy you see?”
“Well, if you hadn’t freaked me out by knowing what happened, I wouldn’t have gone all karate crazy on you.” She sounded vexed. “That, well, that freaked me out.”
Then I did something I never thought I’d do.
I laughed.
A real laugh; it sounded so alien to me.
“You nearly choked me to death because I freaked you out?” I asked, still laughing. Gideon stop laughing! What the hell was happening to me?
“Now you’re just exaggerating,” I raised an eyebrow and then she too started laughing. “OK, so maybe I overreacted. Just by a little bit.”
“You think?”
She stopped laughing, and the curious look she’d had earlier was back on her face. “You know, you still freak me out. I’m wondering how exactly you knew all that.”
“You show me around campus, and I’ll tell you.” This was befriending her, right? Not blackmailing.
“OK, Mr. Chase. This is the chemistry lab, and that concludes our tour.” She started laughing again, and it was then that I knew she knew how to play this stupid game better than I did. I couldn’t help but laugh with her.
Playing along, I said. “I must say, that was nice. Succinct yet informative.”
“I know, right? I should open up my own touring agency.”
Why was I still laughing? Now I was freaking myself out.
“That’s a nice sound. You should laugh more.” This came from Tristan.
I had completely forgotten that Tristan was in the room with us, and the moment I heard his voice I got so livid that the next thing I knew, Abigail was screaming because the glassware on the lab shelves had shattered.
I have no idea why I did what I did next, but the moment the glass exploded, I used my body to shield Abigail, protecting her from the airborne shards.
“Oh my God. Gideon, are you all right?” Abigail brushed broken glass from the front of my black button down shirt, searching for cuts and scratches. “What happened? You saved me.”
I saved her?
I wasn’t sure if I was, but I said, “I’m fine.” Had I shielded her because I wanted to befriend her? That must be why.
Tristan stood behind Abigail, his face unreadable. I was sure he was just as shocked as I was that I had protected her.
“Come on, let’s get out of here before we’re blamed for this,” she said, opening the door for us. “Are you sure you’re all right? I can take you to the nurse if you’re not.”
Was I all right? I wasn’t entirely sure, because in the world as I knew it, I didn’t laugh, except for the occasional sarcastic sneer, and under no circumstances did I save people.
CAROUSEL
Information.
I needed information about Abigail, and since I couldn’t ask Tristan to give it to me or ask Daligo for another file, I had to find it myself.
Another school day was over, and Abigail was still alive. Even worse, I didn’t have any plan whatsoever for getting rid of her. The full frontal assault has never failed me before, and I was at a loss. Tristan never left this girl’s side, so it was impossible even to hurt her.
Knowing I was only going to be bored and frustrated if I followed Tristan and Abigail around, I’d gone out and fed instead. I’d wanted to go home, but I knew my little sister would taunt me about our bet that I’d kill Abigail within a day. “I won. I won. I won,” she’d chanted at me all morning in her most annoying singsong voice. I was in no mood for more of that, so home was off limits.
Killing someone had never been this hard. I couldn’t make a move against Abigail with Tristan trailing her like a freaking shadow. At this rate the only place I would be able to talk to her was at her house, where Tristan was forced to be invisible.
Gideon, you’re a genius!
Abigail Cells, guess who’s coming to visit!
I didn’t even bother to fly this time. I thought of Abigail’s house, and a second later I was no longer feeding off angst and anger in Soweto, but standing in the lawn behind Abigail’s house, facing away from the bay. I wasn’t prepared for what I was seeing.
Abigail stood beside a table filled to the groaning point with weapons. Instead of an ill-fitting outfit she wore a black leather catsuit with long black boots, which was, um, not fitted ill at all. A strongly built young man was beside her, and around them, in the lawn, on the rocky seawall, even affixed to buoys in the water, were neon-painted reactive targets. Tristan stood, invisible, behind the man.
“Training started a minute ago. You’re late,” the man I didn’t recognize said to Abigail, who was looking through the guns on the table.
She was training? What was she training to become, a ninja assassin? An elite Special Forces high-school student?
“I’m a minute late, Logan. Are you seriously going to make me run laps for that?”
“Actually, I’m going to get some boxing gloves. You’ve just earned yourself another twenty minutes of conditioning drills,” the man—Logan, was it?—said, and then walked off toward the house.
Tristan turned to me, and raised his hand in greeting. I was too busy staring at Abigail to come up with something annoying to say to him. Guns? I couldn’t even imagine this prep school girl being able to run with scissors.
I looked around to make sure Logan was well and truly out of sight, and then I made myself visible.
“You lo
ok—” at the sound of my voice Abigail turned around in a flash, and just like that a Smith and Wesson M&P9c semiautomatic handgun was pointing at my head.
The shock on her face when she saw me would have struck me as funny if I hadn’t been a little shocked myself to be looking down the barrel of a gun. “Gideon?” She lowered her gun just a little bit, and then she lifted it again. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“Visiting,” I said. Lame, I know. I blame my shock.
For some reason, although she looked angry, her eyes flashed with fear. “Visiting?” she asked as if she hadn’t heard me the first time.
“Do you even know how to use that thing?”
Abigail glared at me, and then she pointed the gun away from me, at one of the targets. She shot three times, and each bullet hit the metal spinner with a ringing clang.
Was my mouth hanging open? “Woah! I didn’t know you could do that.” Behind her, Tristan was laughing, which made me pretty sure my mouth had been hanging open.
The gun was pointed again at my face. “Now are you going to tell me how you got in here, or would you rather I just blast your brains out? Either one is fine with me.” I was sure she wasn’t kidding.
This Abigail I was looking at was not the one I knew from school. What had happened to her being nice, and maybe a little innocent? I must have been misinformed. More than ever I wished I hadn’t burnt that damn file Daligo had given me on her.
I couldn’t use my Grandinian abilities to kill her because Tristan would stop me at every turn. And if my plan was to befriend her, the gun she was aiming at me suggested that plan wasn’t going so well.
To make matters worse, if she shot me in the head and nothing happened it was likely to raise her suspicions. I would have exposed myself as a non-human, and Daligo would find another reason to lecture me.
Anything but that.
I needed an out before things got that far. “I bet you won’t look so tough without your pretty gun.”
She lowered the gun, and then put the safety on and set it back on the table. “Fine. We can do this the old-fashioned way if you’d prefer.” And just like that she made a fist and got into a basic stance, ready to fight.
“I’ll let you take the first swing.” OK, now she was just mocking me, and Tristan’s laughing didn’t help at all. Yeah, go ahead you royal jerk, laugh your stupid head off. Talk about adding insult to injury.
From the look on Abigail’s face, I knew she really wasn’t afraid to fight me. It actually looked like she wanted me to fight her. “I don’t want to beat you up, you being a girl and all,” I stalled, “and besides, I have a black-belt.”
No I didn’t.
Abigail retook her position, making a fist “A black belt, huh? Great. You have something to wipe away your tears then.”
I laughed but she didn’t, which meant she actually thought she was going to make me cry. Why do I put myself in these kinds of situation? Now I was really embarrassed. I’d come here to take her by surprise and squeeze some information out of her, and instead here I was, about to fight with a, a, a human. A fearless little female human at that. Tristan looked like he was going to past out from laughing. Someone seriously needed to knock him upside the head a few times. I’d have done it myself, but I knew he’d see it coming.
I positioned myself as well, my fist ready to swing. “Look, I can’t beat a—”
Too late. Abigail’s fist rammed into my face and I doubled back, taken by surprise.
She did not punch like girl.
“You should make your nose bleed. You know, to seem human.” When I heard this I looked up to see Tristan beside me. “What? That punched deserves a nose bleed.” I glared at him “Fine. God, it was only a suggestion.”
I rather wanted to make his nose bleed. Git.
“Good shot.” I straightened my shoulders. “I didn’t see that one coming.”
“Want me to give you a sign next time? I could call in a skywriter.” This girl was just begging for me to kill her.
I took my position again. “Don’t flatter yourself, princess.” And just like that Abigail was swinging at me again. This time I dodged.
I threw two punches, one after the other, but she ducked under my arm and tagged me in the ribs before dancing back out of reach. I swung again, and she blocked my arm, twisting it behind me. I stepped behind her right leg and swung up against the arm she held me with with my elbow. This would likely have broken her arm if Tristan hadn’t been there, magically healing her all the time. I’m sure the only reason she had the advantage of me was Tristan. Yep. It had to be him, because the alternative was just embarrassing. For his part, Tristan was pointing at us and snorting with laughter.
Instead of yowling in pain Abigail had rolled in the direction of my swing and rolled over my back.
“So you… have… a black belt?” she said between two-knuckle punches to my torso. “I’m working to get… past… my green belt… in Krav Maga.”
I threw another two punches, and she deflected them both with her forearms and caught me in the chest with her knee. I fell to the ground.
The whole thing happened so fast that when I realized I was on the ground, and that I’d just got beaten up by a girl, I felt like punching myself in the face. This was more embarrassing than the time my little sister had beat me in arm wrestling.
Abigail bent down beside me, and leaned in close, closer, until her lips were brushing my ear. “Still think I’m a princess?” She leaned back so I could see the mocking grin on her face.
We were so close I could see the hollows on the zipper of her leather suit. Her hands rested on either side of me, just beside my shoulders, and her eyes didn’t leave mine. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t been in such a position before with lots of other girls, but this time was different, both exciting and very, very uncomfortable.
“You’re definitely not a princess,” I said, thinking of Sela and her restrictive steel-boned corsets. I propped myself up on one elbow and leaned in so close that our lips were inches apart. “But you are dangerously hot,” I whispered. Even though that line was pretty lame, her heart skipped a beat.
I was about to make another smart comment, something to make her just as uncomfortable as I was, when—
“Abigail?” came a voice from somewhere behind us.
“Dad?” Abigail asked in a whisper, as if she wasn’t sure she’d heard it right. “Dad!” She stumbled off me and ran to him. “Dad, you’re home!”
I took a minute to steady myself before I got up as well. Abigail’s father’s face was the first thing I saw, because he got right in front of me. Hovering in the background were a woman I assumed was Abigail’s mother and Logan.
“Who is this?” He was asking Abigail but looking at me. He looked kind of scary, and I was pretty sure he could hit even harder than his daughter.
Abigail pushed me away from her father. “Dad, this is Gideon, a… a friend from school.” She gave me significant look. “He was just leaving.” And then she was ushering me toward the gate. At least I’d got her to call me a friend.
“He was?” Mrs. Cells asked. “So soon?”
Abigail stopped pushing me. “Yeah. He… ” She gestured vaguely.
Mr. Cells walked over to us. “I won’t hear of it. He should stay for dinner so we can get to know him. He’s a friend, right?” OK, her father wasn’t kind of scary. He was really scary. Intimidating.
What the hell is wrong with me, letting myself be intimidated by a human?
“He’s right. Stay for dinner, Gideon,” Mrs. Cells agreed.
I had no idea what to say. Nothing was going as I’d planned, and if it weren’t for Tristan watching like a hawk I’d have killed them all in a fiery blast. “Sir,” I croaked. I had never meant a “sir” so much, not even when I’d used one to address royalty. “Mr. Cells, I would—”
Abigail lifted her hand and so I stopped talking, “Excuse us,” she hissed, and started pushing me again. She stopped when we we
re out of earshot. “Please don’t stay. You have to leave.”
I didn’t want to stay, but I did want her to stress out a little. “Why?”
“Please, if you leave I’ll be nicer to you. I’ll even let you call me Miss Cells.” That didn’t sound like much of a bargain. I lifted an eyebrow so she’d know it wasn’t enough. “I could give you my number?” Eyebrow. She thought for a second. “I’ll give you my number and show you around school.”
It was kind of funny seeing her squirm like this. I’d have laughed if I hadn’t been a little squirmy myself. “I’ll take it. Oh, and I’m telling everyone you begged me to take it.” I walked back over to her father before she could get a word out.
“I’d love to stay for dinner, but… I have to get home. Yard work.”
Mr. Cells stared me up and down as though he hadn’t even noticed that I’d spoken, and then picked up one of the guns from the table. “You know my daughter can shoot, right?” he asked, and I nodded. “Good, good. She got that from me.” He then pointed the gun in my direction. What was with the Cells pointing guns at me?
“I’ll do well to remember that, sir.” Humbling. Inside, I was crying in shame.
“It was nice to meet you, Gideon. Perhaps you can join us for dinner another time.” Mrs. Cells seemed like the normal one in the family.
I nodded. “You too ma’am.” Ma’am. I almost laughed at how polite I was being. Tristan did laugh, the wank.
Abigail was behind me now, “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
“Sure thing.” I said goodbye to everyone, and then walked around the house, heading to the gate. I was sure Abigail had some major explaining to do about who I was and why I was there, and I’d have loved to stay and watch, but suddenly I was exhausted and hungry.
I needed to kill something, to make sure that my mind and body were still sound.
This was the worst day of my life. And to top it all off, when I reached the front of Abigail’s house, Tristan was waiting for me.
“That was—”
“Don’t. Just don’t,” I cut him off and said through my teeth. “I’m going to go and kill something.” With that I thought about a marketplace, and found myself in India.
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