“I thought I taught you better than that, Abigail,” he said when I explained I wanted us to hack into every database we could to find information on Gideon.
“No, you did. I’m not saying you should do it. I just want to use your computer, that’s all.”
He didn’t say no, so I rushed to get his computer. I searched for Gideon Chase in every database I could find, including the FBI, CIA, and Interpol, but nothing came up. Well, there were other Gideon Chase’s on the planet, but none of them matched my Gideon.
“That’s odd. Is this guy an alien?” Logan joked when he tried and couldn’t find anything either.
Gideon was suddenly like a mystery that couldn’t be solved. However, I loved solving mysteries.
“There has to be another way to get the information we need,” I mused.
“How about a sample of his hair?” Logan asked, “Or maybe Gideon Chase isn’t really his name.”
Logan spouted off a lot of reasons why Gideon’s name didn’t show up anywhere. I had only one, and it was the fact that he wasn’t human.
SHADOW BOXING
*Gideon*
“If this is my punishment for hurting them,
then what’s yours for hurting me back?
Answer me, Karma!”
Melody Manful
“How have you stopped going to Earth?” Valoel asked the very moment I appeared inside my room.
“I haven’t stopped. I’m only taking a break,” I lied. I didn’t want to go to Earth anymore, especially if my presence frightened Abigail. I didn’t understand why she was scared of me.
“Well, I heard it’s because of Abigail,” Valoel said.
“Well you heard wrong, because Abigail is just annoying, reckless, conceited, a pain, and…” I paused, “and she waited until I said something stupid, and then she walked in and said she wanted to ask me to the dance. I tried telling her I didn’t mean what I said, but she won’t listen!” I felt frustrated.
“If you called her stupid, then why are you mad?” she asked.
“I’m angry at her because she’s just a stupid human who…who is…carelessly clumsy, smart, beautiful and… when she lets her hair fall on her face because she’s shy, or when she—” I screamed, suddenly falling to my knees in pain.
“Gideon,” Valoel rushed over to me.
I tried to shake her off. “Something’s—something’s wrong with me.” I tried to stand. “Maybe I’m sick.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Gideon. Angels don’t get sick.” Valoel pulled me to my feet.
“There must be something wrong with me because I can’t get her out of my mind.” Abigail invaded every thought in my head. “Abigail is everywhere, and I feel…angry that she heard me calling her stupid.” I pulled myself free from Valoel. “What’s wrong with me?”
“There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re just experiencing new feelings.”
“New feelings?” That was her theory? “I can feel hate and anger. What more is there? There must be something else wrong with me.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Gideon!” Valoel shouted. “You’re just…” She hesitated.
“What’s wrong with me, Val?” I asked. “What?”
“Gideon, you’re in love with Abigail.”
The next thing I knew, an invisible force forcibly hurled me straight through the wall. I crashed down below, plummeting at least twenty feet. I had no idea why hearing Valoel say I was in love with Abigail inflicted such pain. I blinked up at the dark sky and realized no one had pushed me; I had pushed myself.
“No!” That made no sense. “No, I can’t—I don’t even know what—I do not love her!” I found a little strength and stood.
Valoel thought I was in love with Abigail? What the hell gave her that stupid idea?
“I know you don’t believe me, but you’re not sick. You’re in love.”
“Stop saying that!” I yelled. “I hate her. I still want to kill her, so you’re wrong.” I paused in agony. “I don’t love her. That’s impossible. I can’t feel anything but hate.”
“Then why are you in pain?” Valoel pointed at the broken side of the house.
“Because I’m angry, weak, and hungry,” I tried to compose myself.
“Hello?” Both Valoel and I started at the sound of Tristan’s voice.
What the hell was he doing in my house?
I snapped my fingers and found myself in the living room. Valoel appeared right beside Tristan, who stood there looking around him.
I walked toward him to shove him hard. I made a fist, but I didn’t even hit Tristan because he vanished right through my hand. The next thing I knew, Valoel was standing with him behind me.
“I know you and I are from opposing sides,” Tristan said. “And I shouldn’t be here, but Abigail wants answers, and I’m afraid if she doesn’t get them, she might search too far and expose us.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t be here. If you’re worried about our exposure, then you take care of it,” I said. If Abigail wanted answers, why did she ask me to leave?
“I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way,” he said sadly. “I know why she’s scared of you, too,” Tristan whispered. “I imprinted a nightmare in her head to make her stay away from you, but I can see it didn’t work. All I can say is I’m sorry.” And everyone said he was nice!
Sorry? Sorry wasn’t going to fix this!
“I know,” Tristan said, and I stared confusedly at him.
Know what? What the hell was he talking about?
“I know sorry doesn’t fix this.”
Tristan was reading my thoughts? Instantly, I appeared beside him.
“How did you do that?” I asked, now so close to him that I saw my reflection in his eyes.
“Do what? I just…” The truth of what was happening seemed to dawn on him that very moment. He looked confused, scared even.
You answered my thoughts. How did you do that?
I don’t know how. I just heard you as if you spoke, he responded in my head.
Heard me?
“And you just answered my thought.” He was quick to notice that part. He had answered my thought, and I in turn answered his.
“What’s going on?” I took a step away from him. “Something is wrong here, and whatever it is, I don’t like it.”
“Wait.” Valoel looked from Tristan to me. “Are you two hearing each other’s thoughts?”
Tristan nodded, and then Valoel’s expression changed from shock to pain.
“This isn’t good,” she whispered to herself. “This is just what I was afraid of.” She looked back to Tristan and then to me again. We stared at her in confusion. “Sorry, just thinking out loud.”
“Do you feel that?” I asked Tristan, hoping he didn’t know what I was talking about.
“Yeah.”
I felt confused, sad, and somewhat uneasy, a feeling I knew wasn’t mine, but Tristan’s.
“It’s like the first time we met when we were both four,” Tristan said. “I felt everything you felt. Why are you so sad?”
“Stop creeping me out!” I shouted. It was bad enough that we could hear each other’s thoughts and feel each other’s emotions, but now he was concerned, too?
“I don’t know what’s happening to us,” Tristan murmured.
Join the club, freak.
“Even when you don’t speak out loud, your thoughts still hurt.”
“This is really bad. It’s bad enough that I have to endure you—now I have to hear your rainbows and unicorns thoughts, too. Could this day get any worse?” I felt as if I could combust into flames because of my body’s rising temperature.
“Valoel, do you know why this is happening?” Tristan asked.
“I…no. Maybe the king—your father—will know?” she asked. She sounded scared, too. Valoel had never looked or sounded like that.
“I’ll go and ask King Daligo, and then my parents,” Tristan said. “Please don�
��t visit Abigail while I’m gone.” He looked straight at me. Like I cared what he wanted. I’d visit Abigail if I wanted.
Valoel seems to think I’m in love with her. I’m not visiting her anytime soon, I thought.
“I won’t take long, and I’m sure you can hold off not seeing her until I get back,” Tristan said, as if he didn’t hear what I had thought.
“Wait, you didn’t hear what I just thought?” How could he hear my thoughts one minute and not the next?
No, did you think something?
Yes, I did.
“Maybe you didn’t want me to hear it?”
You are a moron.
“I heard that.”
“Good. And I won’t be visiting Abigail because I’m going with you,” I told him. The sooner we got rid of whatever was happening to us, the better. “I don’t like you, and the thought of you in my head makes me sick.”
“I’ll just wait here,” Valoel said cheerlessly as Tristan snapped his fingers and we disappeared into the darkness.
DARK VEIL
*Abigail*
“You’re fighting for your country, they said.
Your will become a hero, they said.
Kill all the enemies, they said.
So I fought, killed, cried and killed again.
Now that I’m haunted and empty,
they tell me ‘God gave everyone free will’.”
Melody Manful
As far as I could prove, Gideon didn’t exist. Not according to any database.
Logan and I eventually gave up after trying countless searches that produced nothing.
When I entered my bedroom, I did the same thing I’d been doing for the last couple of days—I watered the rose Gideon gave me. The rose was still as beautiful as it was the day he gave it to me. However, I felt as if the magic was gone because Gideon was gone.
I couldn’t sleep. I stared at my walls for hours. I was about to get out of bed for some air when suddenly I heard my mother scream for help from downstairs. I instantly jumped out of bed and rushed out my door.
I flew down the stairs two at a time.
The moment I stepped into the sitting room, a bullet whizzed by my ear, missing me by inches. I ducked back into the hallway and at that moment realized I had forgotten my gun in my bedroom.
“I found the girl. I found Agent V’s daughter,” I heard a man’s voice say. Seconds later, footsteps approached.
Agent V was my father’s CIA initial, and my mother’s screams meant that my father’s worst fears were coming true—whomever he was hiding us from had just proved successful in finding us.
I backtracked and sprinted into the kitchen, grabbing the phone off the wall and dialing Logan’s number. On the fifth ring, Logan answered.
“Jesus Christ, Abigail, do you know what time it is?” Logan asked in a sleepy voice. “Is this about that Gideon guy who—”
“Logan, there are people here,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and failing. “They know about my father. Mom was screaming and—” I didn’t want to think about how my mother sounded when she screamed.
“What?” he asked, sounding fully awake now. “Find a place to hide. I’ll be right there. Where are your bodyguards?”
Find a place to hide? Didn’t he prepare me for this very moment?
“Did she go back up?” I heard a voice ask, and I started panicking.
“I’ve got to go, Logan.” I ended the call.
I looked around me, searching for a weapon, and saw none. The best I could find, rather than a frying pan, was a fire extinguisher. I figured the extinguisher hurt more than the frying pan, and the thick white dust that it released might be of use to me as well.
I grabbed the extinguisher and rushed over to hide behind the door, when I head footsteps coming closer to the kitchen. Wearing black yoga shots and a white tank top—and weaponless—wasn’t exactly how I pictured my life ending.
I could feel my heart pounding violently through my top. I held my breath and peeked slowly out into the hall, through the side of the door. Two armed men were almost in the kitchen.
Pressing my back firmly against the wall behind the door, I held the fire extinguisher in a ready-to-smack position. I waited for the men to enter.
One. Two.
“There she—”
The speaker fell instantly when I slammed the extinguisher against his head. The second man didn’t have a chance to react before I knocked him down with the extinguisher as well. He moaned on the floor. I rushed out of the kitchen and into the sitting room.
“She’s here!” someone shouted, but I rushed onward toward our library without turning to look, because my mother’s room was on top of it.
The moment I entered the library, I quickly hid behind one of the shelves to stay out of sight. I heard my mother’s voice pleading to be released. The shelves of books were lined like those in a public library. I peeked through the row of books in front of me.
“Let her go,” Felix was saying. A man standing in front of him punched him hard in the face. Felix doubled over in pain while blood seeped from his broken nose. There were six strange men in the room. Four of them held Ben and Felix. Another one held my mother, and the sixth man stood by, watching.
Okay, I could take them. I had a fire extinguisher. I could totally take… Oh, my God, I was going to die.
I was about to think up a better plan than rushing in, pointing my extinguisher at them, and shouting, “Hey, let them go!” when a bullet whizzed by my head before being embedded in a book. I turned around to some more strange men running toward me. I dodged another bullet, and then I removed the pin from the extinguisher. I depressed the lever, releasing the dry chemicals into the air and blocking the men’s focus.
I sprayed the powder all over the room before tossing the extinguisher aside and stepping into the gas myself. The first man who came into contact with me didn’t even have time to swing his arm before my fist met his face. He angrily swung both hands. I was too slow to move out of his reach. One hand knocked me straight in the jaw, and I groaned as blood filled my mouth. I kneed him hard in the stomach and punched him under his jaw, making him wheeze. He cursed.
I dodged another blow swung my way and elbowed the nearest man. Someone punched me in my ribs. I looked up, gasping for air, and then smashed my forearm under his chin and my fist into his jaw.
I turned away from the man just as another came into view from beside us, pointing his gun at me. I had only a second to move before he fired his gun, and then the oddest thing happened.
I watched the bullet coming toward me, but it never reached me: it stopped somewhere inches from hitting me, and then it fell straight to the ground.
What the… I had no time to freak out or thank whatever guardian angel was looking after me, or curse myself for seeing things in times like this. Suddenly, the guy who fired at me fell at my feet—dead.
Okay, now I was panicking.
“I want her alive!” I heard a cold voice shouting, and then more footsteps. I banished all thoughts of whatever weirdness was going on and reached down to take the dead man’s weapon. The moment I had the gun, I furrowed deeper into the smoke.
I darted behind one of the bookshelves. I couldn’t really see through all the powder that clung to the books, but I knew the library by heart, so I knew where to step. Gunshots fired into the books, and I took cover as I moved expertly through the room. At every opportunity, I aimed and fired my own gun, hoping it didn’t run out on me.
I peeked around the shelves in search of the intruders. Seeing no movement, I moved from behind the shelves. I took each step carefully, ready to fire at the sight of an intruder. A bullet rang out, and I screamed as it tore through the flesh in my left arm. The pain ripped through my body. I felt like my arm was slowly tearing itself into pieces. I fired in the direction of the gunman. The bullet lodged itself in a man’s arm, and he fell back with a scream. The others came into view, and I turned and raced f
or cover as they started firing.
I whipped around a corner and stopped. A man rushed toward me, pointing his gun at my head. I was trapped.
“Hands up!” he shouted. He had a foreign accent. “Gun on the floor. Hands up!” I did as he ordered.
“Do not shoot her. Andrei wants her alive,” said a man who rushed in from behind me and pinned my hands behind my back. I winced. Pain radiated from my bullet wound. The man’s grip on my hands was strong, and no matter how I twisted, even though my hands weren’t tied, I couldn’t break away from his grip.
The man dragged me to where the others held my mother and bodyguards hostage.
“Abigail!” my mother cried the moment she saw me. “Let her go.” My mother struggled to free herself.
“I’m all right, Mom,” I lied.
“Let them go,” I demanded. Someone laughed.
“Hello, Abigail, I’m Andrei. Your father taught you well,” he said. He glanced at something behind me. “My men were plenty before.” He looked like one of those people you wouldn’t dare befriend. His eyes were cold, his dark-grey hair neatly brushed, and a plastic grin stretched across his face.
“Let them go,” I said again, tugging against the grip of the man who had me restrained. I was out of ideas, and I didn’t know what I was supposed to do next.
“How adorable,” he said.
“Andrei!” Someone rushed through the open door. The only words I understood were my father’s name and Andrei’s. The language being spoken sounded like a Slavic language, possibly Russian.
“It seems your father is coming to get you, we have to leave,” Andrei said as the men led my mother and bodyguards out after him. My mother screamed at them to let her go. Two remaining men followed my captor and me.
The man holding me pushed me forward, but I refused to budge. I made sure there was some space between me and my mother and bodyguards before I took another step. We followed them into the connected dining and sitting rooms. I watched as the people in front of us exited the library into the sitting room, and then I promptly halted.
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