“Thanks, I got it from here,” Gideon said to the attendant as he stood, filling the passageway with his wide shoulders. He was so tall he had to bow just so he could fit. The attendants seemed to want to say something about policy, but just stood back and let Gideon lean over and carefully lift Meg out of her seat then place her in the wheelchair.
In the moment it took for him to accomplish this task, Meg wrapped her arms around his neck and reached out with her emotions to feel the soldier. For the first time, she saw the kaleidoscope of auras that existed inside the man holding her protectively. He truly had multiple personalities inside him—she could see their different colors clearly.
“Miss?” the flight attendant seemed to jump nervously at the sound of her own voice. “I’m sorry, but I have to ask. You look very familiar. Would I know you from somewhere? The television?” Her face was blushing deep red under her pasty makeup but her eyes looked determined.
“No, ma’am. I’m nobody,” Meg lied.
She exchanged ominous looks with Gideon as he finished pulling her out of the plane backward until there was room enough to turn her around. Halfway up the jet bridge Meg finally exhaled the breath she was holding.
“Gideon?” she looked up at him before reaching back and gently grasped his forearm.
“What is it, Meg?” His voice was slightly rough, but Meg was starting to recognize the slight variation between Gideon’s emotion-filled voice and Sirus’ regular deep voice.
“I may need to wear a disguise when I’m in public now that we’re back in the States.”
“Noted,” he was still fuming. He was half a breath away from reaching out to snap the neck of that nosy woman, but he knew there was no way he could do that without drawing attention to them. The real reason he was still angry was that he hadn’t thought of Meg being recognized before.
She was still holding his forearm when she asked, “What’s your favorite color?” She knew it seemed like a very little-kid question to ask, but she needed to figure something out, and she was pretty sure Gideon would unknowingly give her the answer.
He glanced down at her as she peered up and over her shoulder at him. Her wide, dark eyes looked beautiful. How many weeks had he watched over her as she slept, dreaming and waiting for the day when he would be able to see the color of her eyes again? Now he could see how they would gather the light and sparkle even in the dark. He wished it weren’t true, but the more he spoke with her, felt her light fingertips on his searing hot skin, the more he was undeniably drawn to her.
“What is your favorite color?”
Meg smiled slightly. “Blood red.”
“Red, eh? That’s a coincidence.”
Meg felt one of the colors in his kaleidoscope of auras brighten. The dark, blood red light pulsed with excitement.
She let go of his arm and put her hands back in her lap. She smiled to herself as she thought, There you are, Gideon. I found you.
They were the first to be let off the plane, so no one was in their way to see the chauffer waiting patiently as he held a sign reading “Naya Arkdone.”
“Naya, allow me to introduce you to Ermos. Ermos, this is Naya Arkdone.” Sirus’ deep voice came through now. Sometime during the brief walk up the passageway, Sirus stepped forward to take over the body. Meg frowned at the switch, somehow feeling left hanging by Gideon.
“How do you do, Miss Naya?” Ermos’ European accent was thick. He wore a traditional driver’s hat and jacket and bowed slightly to Meg.
“I’m doing well, thanks Ermos. How are you?”
Ermos’ eyes widened in surprise at being asked about himself. “I’m, um…I’m well, Miss. Thank you for asking.”
“Sirus? Is the wheelchair still necessary?” Meg asked pointedly, making it clear she knew exactly who was present.
“Yes,” he growled under his breath so Ermos wouldn’t hear him as they followed the thirty-something-year-old man to the VIP exit.
“Why are you upset?”
“We’ll discuss this later, Naya.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m Meg.”
“You’d better get used to it, Naya. The Senator chose that name for you and he can be very insistent.”
“Let him insist all he wants,” Meg crossed her arms defiantly. She was growing tired from her efforts to read Gideon and she was nowhere near one-hundred percent after waking from the medically induced coma. “I don’t like being pushed around,” she growled up at Sirus. Her double meaning wasn’t lost on the black-eyed alter.
He stopped the wheelchair and leaned down to lock the wheels when Meg leaped up and out of the chair. She stood with her arms still crossed, hip jutting to the side defiantly.
“Ermos, would you mind waiting for us in the car? I need a quick talk with Miss Naya.”
“As you wish, Mr. Niche.” The large chauffer opened his driver’s door and dropped his large frame into the seat before closing the door behind him.
“What is your problem?” Sirus snarled into Meg’s face the moment the driver was out of earshot.
“I don’t like it when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Trade places with Gideon abruptly.”
“What?”
“It’s rude!”