Dominion (Re-edition)

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Dominion (Re-edition) Page 26

by Melody Manful


  “I almost kissed Tristan,” I blurted out, and immediately Gideon let go of me and pulled away.

  The first thing I noticed in his eyes was something akin to pain, but it vanished so quickly that I couldn’t be sure I hadn’t just imagined it. A second later, they were flashing with anger.

  And Gideon’s anger could be dangerous. Was Tristan safe? Was I? Wow, was anyone?

  Gideon made for the door without saying another word to me. I had worried he would shout at me, but this silence was worse. Much worse. And now he was leaving.

  Oh no.

  Tristan.

  “Gideon! I know you’re mad, but nothing happened. You have every reason to be angry with me, but really: nothing happened. This isn’t Tristan’s fault.”

  Still silence.

  “It wasn’t my intention to make you angry. I’m so, so sorry.” Gideon was still livid, but at least he was away from the door. “You don’t have to forgive me for this, but really, nothing happened. True, it shouldn’t have even almost happened. Don’t ever forgive me if you don’t want to, but please, don’t hate me.”

  “For crying out loud, Abigail Cells, don’t put words in my mouth. I couldn’t hate you, even if I tried.” I rushed to him, and stretched up on my tiptoes to press my lips to his.

  I thought for sure he was going to pull away, so it came as a surprise when he kissed me back, gripping my hips and pulling them closer to his. My guilt disappeared.

  I felt a current run through me when he deepened the kiss, parting my lips. A spin and my back was against the door. A wave of desire rushed through me, and I reached up, digging my fingers into his hair, pressing tighter against him until there was no space left between us.

  His hands moved from my waist and up my body. The thrill was unbelievable. And I wanted more. I brought my hands to his chest and slid them down his hard stomach, tracing the muscles with eager fingertips. He moved his hands from my back and slid them beneath my top. His hands shifted from my ribcage, moving up and up. A soft moan escaped my lips. The touch of his hands on my body was a revelation.

  And then suddenly he was lifting me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my lips not once leaving his. I kissed him harder. We moved, and my back hit something soft. Gideon’s arms tightened around me, his hands were everywhere on my body. I whispered his name, moving my hips against his. His lips left my mouth, tracing kisses down my jaw, down my throat, and down, down my chest. With a single tug of my top, we broke apart, but only for the second it took for him to pull my shirt over my head. My heart was bursting with excitement. Passion. Need.

  Sliding his hands behind my head, he brought his lips back to my mouth, gently laying me down. With each touch his fingers burned into my skin, sending a rush of heat and yearning through me. My hands trembled as I reached for his shirt, trying to yank it away with our lips still sealed.

  My hands pressed against his hard, bare chest when I’d yanked his shirt off, tossing it away. I stopped thinking and gave myself over to my heart’s desires as it pounded loudly. Gideon’s lips left mine once again, moving down my neck until they found my chest, his lips claiming me. My body was on fire, and each touch left me craving more.

  The need was overpowering. I shifted, sliding my hand to the back of his head and sinking my mouth into his. He eagerly kissed me back. His hands trailed down my thighs, moving gingerly under my skirt and up to my waistline. Our pulses matched, racing, humming a tone of pleasure.

  I groaned as he tugged at the waistband of my panties, and I ran my hands down his chest.

  Without warning he abruptly pulled away from me, leaving me panting.

  Gideon was now standing at the far end of the bed, trying to catch his breath. A bed? Where the heck did that come from? Gideon had absolutely nothing in his room when I’d got here, but now there was a bed.

  Gideon’s eyes moved greedily up and down my body, filled with the kind of hunger I knew ended with him ripping the rest of my clothes off. I was pretty sure the same look was on my face.

  “Put this on.” He handed me my top. I crossed my arms over my red bra. As my blood began to cool I became suddenly shy. I was still trying to find my breath when I slid my arms into my top.

  OK, so maybe the feelings we had for each other were a little stronger than I’d thought.

  My gaze rested on his chest. I tried to look away, but it was no use.

  “You didn’t kiss Tristan like that did you?” he asked.

  Tristan? “Who?” I had no idea what he was talking about. My gaze was still glued to his chest. I wanted to cross the short space between us and feel the warmth of his body once more. I wanted to…

  “I’m distracting you,” he interrupted my daydreaming. He snapped his fingers, and a shirt appeared on his body.

  Please take it off. Gideon smiled as if he’d heard me. Had I said that out loud?

  Finally the spiderwebs in my head had cleared away, and Gideon’s question from a moment ago made sense. “No,” I assured him. “I did not kiss Tristan like that.”

  He smiled at this, but he didn’t look convinced. “I am a very jealous guy who doesn’t like to share, and you are mine.”

  “Yours? Gideon, I’m not a possession you can own.”

  He pulled me close. “No, you’re not.” He placed my hands on his heart, “but you are mine.”

  When he put it that way, it sounded romantic. “Yours.” I whispered.

  He nuzzled against my ear. “Say it,” he whispered, his lips so close I could feel his breath.

  “I’m yours.” Gideon gripped my hips, pulling me tightly against him, and his lips were on mine again. This kiss didn’t last as long, because I pushed him away and put a question to him.

  “So, does my being yours mean you are mine?”

  “Well, if you want to put a label on it.”

  “You’re a jerk.” I brushed my fingers along his collarbone. “ I have to ask: Where did the bed come from?”

  “I have no idea,” he said. “I told you, sometimes I do things without meaning to. It doesn’t usually work out this well, though.” My eyes met his, and we both laughed. I loved the sound of Gideon’s laughter; it was a sound I knew I would never get tired of.

  BEAUTIFUL LAIR

  Tristan

  “I almost did it, I almost

  believed in happy endings.”

  

  Mars.

  I had come all the way to Mars and still I felt like I wasn’t far away enough from Abigail.

  Try as I might, I didn’t understand why I’d allowed myself to act the way I had. Especially when I knew very well that Gideon had finally found someone he didn’t want to immediately kill, and knew what a rarity that was. I’d let myself jeopardize that. I hadn’t just failed the Challenge: I’d failed Abigail. I wished I could take back those moments of weakness, those moments we’d shared. Then again, deep down inside, I didn’t actually wish to lose a single one.

  Tristan, where are you? Why is your human here in Grands?

  Great, just what I needed: King Daligo on my case.

  I didn’t even bother to reply to him. I simply transported myself to the Grandinian Great Hall. He was there, and so was my father and Valoel.

  An anonymous Grandinian official of some sort was briefing the three of them when I arrived. “Yes, Your Majesty. Gideon was spotted in the Grandinian Town Square with a human. At this point, he has not injured anyone. All the same, bands of warrior angels are on alert.”

  Gideon had taken Abigail to the town square? They were out sightseeing? Maybe she hadn’t told him I’d almost kissed her. Maybe she had, and had managed to smooth things over. Or maybe Gideon just wanted an audience when he got his revenge. No. No, I honestly didn’t think he’d hurt her. I didn’t think he’d hurt anyone in front of her. He’d changed. Or, rather, she’d changed him. I hope.

  My father pulled me aside. “Did you know anything about this?”

  “What is she doing here? Did you bring her?” King Da
ligo asked before I could answer. “And why are you here instead of with her?”

  “She’s with Gideon.” I told them. That didn’t appear to satisfy them. I should have expected that. “He seems to have come to respect and care for her. I know that he’s normally wild, but I think she’s safe with him. I wouldn’t have left her if I’d thought she was in danger.”

  King Daligo looked confused “Did you fail?”

  “Maybe. But I really think she’s safe with him.” My father and Daligo looked surprised at this, but Valoel did not. I couldn’t read her expression at all.

  Father opened his mouth and closed it and opened it again. “She could expose us.”

  But she couldn’t. She was ruined. If she talked to anyone right now, what would they think? She’d romanced angels, she’d traveled to a bustling city in a dark realm, she’d teleported vast distances instantaneously. She could tell anyone she liked about what had happened to her these past months, and she wouldn’t be believed.

  We weren’t in danger. She was.

  I had really messed up in the guardian angel department.

  All the same, I’d have thought everyone would have been a little bit happier to have Gideon cutting back on the wanton slaughter.

  “Valoel, did you know about this?” my father asked. Suddenly the eyes of both kings were on her, fierce and bright, but she didn’t even flinch.

  “I didn’t think it concerned me at all.” I had to admire her bravery, talking to a king in that tone of voice. To two kings. Valoel was made of stern stuff.

  “You didn’t think it concerned you? I thought you realized this concerned everyone. The very fate of humanity hangs in the balance.”

  Valoel laughed. “When this Challenge was arranged, you thought about Tristan and Gideon. You thought about yourselves. You didn’t think much about humanity at all. You certainly didn’t think of Abigail. You had every reason to believe my brother would kill her; I know you did, because I did, too. Don’t try heaping guilt on me for not thinking of the grand balance of the universe. Tristan and Gideon both succeeded. They both failed. Don’t blame me for the fact that you never considered that possibility.” And then she didn’t even wait for the monarchs to answer her. She snapped her fingers, and she was gone. The girl had style.

  After a moment of stunned silence my father placed his hand on my shoulder. “Tristan, you have to make this right. Take the human back. Take her back home, and make her forget everything.”

  Wait? What? “No, I can’t do that. I can’t do that to.”

  “ But our entire existence depends on you making this right.” King Daligo wasn’t pleading. He was demanding.

  “She’s only one human. She can’t hurt you. She can’t hurt us. Please, don’t ask this of me. Gideon is finally not hurting people every second because of that human, and I’m not going to change that just because you’re afraid she might tell another human or two about our existence. I’m not doing it.”

  Then I vanished. I went to the Chase home. When I got there, only Valoel was home. Gideon and Abigail weren’t back from their tour of the square yet.

  “Let me guess,” Valoel asked, “they sent you to clean up their mess for them.”

  Valoel was sitting with her legs tucked under her on a sofa in the living room. Against the huge cushions of the sofa she looked small. She looked her age. In short, she didn’t look at all like a girl who’d shouted down two monarchs a few minutes ago.

  I nodded. “They just want me to make it right. They want me to make Abby forget.”

  “Gideon is going to be pretty mad if you take Abigail away from him. Didn’t they think about how he might react?”

  Tell me something I don’t know.

  “I should never have let him bring her here.”

  “He’s hard to stop once he sets his mind on something: he’d have brought her here with or without you. Besides, it’s not your job as her guardian angel to micromanage her life for her”

  “But I have to do something.”

  “Why this? Why you?” She stood up and suddenly seemed self-assured. Powerful. Older. Her voice was not that of a typical Teen Vogue subscriber.

  “Because I’m the…” I’m the way? Why was I always the one who have to make the hard decisions?

  Valoel grabbed my hands when I didn’t continue. For someone who looked so fragile she had a very strong grip. “Let it out, Tristan.”

  I wasn’t sure what she meant at first, but then I realized she wanted me to finish my sentence and I didn’t want to, so I said, “there’s nothing, I’m fine.”

  “Tristan let it go.” She said this with her teeth pressed together as if she was afraid if she opens her mouth she might do something she’ll regret.

  I was surprised to hear myself say, “I can’t!” I realized I wasn’t just saying it: I was shouting it. I tore myself away from her.

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.” Valoel flashed a cryptic Mona Lisa smile and sat back down on the sofa. “Tell me, I’ll listen.”

  “What do you want me to say?” I asked angrily. “That I don’t want to be a hero? How sometimes I feel like the human race doesn’t deserve saving, because so many of them are cruel and heartless? They cause each other so much pain, and I can’t be around them without their suffering pressing in on me.

  “God, sometimes I just want to disappear! For a second there I thought I might be happy, just for a minute. Finally, Gideon isn’t adding to the daily mountain of human horror. Nope, there are complications now that he’s stopped. It’s endless. It’s just endless.”

  Something new was stirring in me. I could feel the rush. This is how it really felt to be angry. I’d seen anger, and I thought I’d even tasted it, but this? This deep resentfulness and bitterness? This made me realize that I’d never really seen anger, just its shadow. I had always considered anger a sign of weakness, and maybe the fact that I was angry meant that I was weak. But it also meant that I cared. Right to the soul of me, I cared. Sympathy for the people I saved was one thing. Anger that I had to save them? Anger that didn’t sap my strength? That must mean I was invested. I cared.

  Caring made the idea of failure more terrifying.

  “Valoel, I don’t know if I can go on being a hero. I’m not qualified for the title. I can’t save everyone, and that lets down not only the people I don’t save, but also everyone who has faith in me.”

  “Finally,” Valoel boasted, her eyes dancing with joy, “I fixed you.”

  “You didn’t fix me, Valoel, you broke me. I’m not supposed to be broken. I have to be whole for everyone. I have to be the hope when there is none.”

  “You can’t save everyone? You’re can’t do absolutely everything? That’s always been true. You just never admitted it to yourself. The people whose expectation is that you should are being unreasonable. You’re right to be upset, the world sucks, and you have a right to be upset some people think it’s up to you make it stop sucking. Let go of it.” She took me by the shoulders. “Let go of the weight of the world. Just for a minute or two. Just for a moment let me carry it for you, so that you can breathe again, so that you can live again.”

  My eyes stung with tears that I fought to keep back. This time they weren’t for the universe. They were for me. Because I was only a vessel. Because I was imperfect and limited and vulnerable. And because I had to accept all that.

  “Let it all go,” Valoel whispered, and pulled me into her arms. I allowed myself to cry.

  When I finally let the tears spill over, I felt lighter. I felt something I’d never felt before, something that had always been there, under the truth. Freedom.

  BROKEN ANGEL

  I stayed in Valoel’s arms for a while, and then I pulled myself together and stepped out of the circle of her embrace, wiping my eyes and nose on my shirtsleeve.

  Valoel reached into my shirt pocket. “Pink sunglasses? Really?” I barked out a little of the choked, giddy laughter that follows a crying jag. “They clash with your wings,�
� she continued. “But it does look good on you. You could be a sunglasses model”

  While I laughed, Valoel stared at me, into me, with happiness in her eyes, “you’re going to be fine, although you do come off as a blowhard—well, maybe blowhard isn’t the word I’m looking for. Overbearing, maybe? ”

  “I’m overbearing?”

  “You’re a little too Capital N Noble. The world has problems, and lo! You must swoop down and fix them all. And you’re terribly sure of yourself, applying your solutions without considering they might not be the best ones.”

  “What?”

  “Gideon told me about the nightmare you gave Abigail. There might have been ways to protect her that didn’t involve meddling with her mind. As it turns out, she considers that kind of meddling a, a violation. But you jumped right in anyway. And you’re considering jumping in again.”

  “I need to do something.” Anything. I couldn’t sit back and just do nothing.

  But I realized Daligo’s concern about Gideon didn’t seem to be rooted in any actual concern for Abigail or her safety, and I had to find out what the real reason for it was.

  “You can’t do what they’re asking of you to Gideon. For the first time in his life he’s happy, and you can’t just take that away from him. And when he’s happy, everyone is safe.”

  “Are we even sure he isn’t pretending to be happy?” I asked, needing a reason to do what I was about to do. I knew what the kings were asking of me was wrong, but I knew they wouldn’t ask if it weren’t important.

  Valoel’s voice took on a sharp edge of impatience. “You know he’s not pretending Tristan. You could tell if he was.”

  She was right. Sharing Gideon’s emotion had come in handy. It was the only real assurance I had that Abigail was going to be safe when I left her with him.

  Valoel reached out for my forehead, as though she thought I might be feverish. But when her fingers touched me, I screamed.

 

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