Dominion (Guardian Angels)

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 for 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.

The moment I stopped moving, I lifted my leg and stomped hard on the foot of the man holding me. I swung my elbow into his stomach and slipped out of his grasp. I didn’t waste any time before I connected my fist with the closest jaw. I cried out as someone punched me in the nose. Another blow landed in my jaw, and then it was three against one, and they were winning.

My mouth was filled with blood when I finally managed to swing a blow at one of them. I threw my fists out again, and then, reaching for one of the dining chairs, I swung it around and connected with the skull of one of the men. He fell down immediately, and I grabbed his gun.

The moment it was in my hands, I fired twice at the men rushing toward me. It was after they fell to the ground and blood splashed onto the floors, walls, and all over on my body that I felt a rush of anger and pain. I just shot two men; I killed them. Finally, I knew my father hadn’t been training me just to protect myself. He had been training me to become a killer.

Andrei shouted in Russian at the sound of the gunshot. Two more men came into view. I fired twice, hitting one and missing the other. He fired his gun and missed only because once again, the bullet stopped mid-air. I took advantage of the man’s shock and shot him in the left leg. I was shocked too, but the panic of losing those I loved was more compelling than whatever weird thing was going on.

I ran over to the entrance when I heard my mother’s screams and the start of car engines. I flew through the front door to the house just as the cars started pulling away.