Why do you always do this to me?
Amy stared at Ian, standing beside his sister in the shadow of the cavern’s
entrance, not believing what she was seeing. How? How could he do this to her?
Make her fall, fall so hard, so deep…and he hadn’t reached out to catch her. He’d
charmed her into giving him her heart and she’d handed it over---only to see it
torn apart.
Why couldn’t you just see through me?
He didn’t know her. Not at all. Didn’t know how she felt, didn’t know how she
hurt. All he cared about was himself. But if he just looked into her eyes, see the
depth of her emotions, he’d realize that she’d given her all. Given her everything.
To him. But would it matter, even if he did see?
How come you act like this,
Like you just don’t care at all…
He grinned at them sardonically, holding out the coin for them to see. He was
speaking, words that cut her bit by bit. She could hear it, but she blocked it out,
not by will, but by force…Her heart ached, each beat a mockery, a taunt…her
pulse, telling her that she still lived and breathed, confusing her somehow. She
was dying, couldn’t they see? She was dead. Dead! But they were persistent,
filling her with so much pain, she had to gnaw her tongue to stop from crying
out.
Do you expect me to believe…I was the only one to fall?
But she had seen something glimmer in his eyes. Guilt? Reluctance? An apology
that somehow felt out of place? Or maybe it was just another trick of light, a
twisted point of view, a fogged-up perspective---like his “love” had been. Like
her brain was telling her what she wanted, rather than what she feared. One of
many, many falsehoods.
I can feel, I can feel you near me,
Even when we’re far away…
I can feel, I can feel you baby,
Why?
Why? Why couldn’t she seem to get over it? Why did she find him everywhere
she went, see something of him in someone else, felt his spirit like he was some
spirit haunting her? Was this normal behavior?
It’s not supposed to feel this way
I need you, I need you,
More and more each day…
Was it enough that she thought of him every single day? Would it bring him
back to her? Make him feel the same way she did? Somehow, she found it hard to
believe. She found it even harder to see why she was wasting her time thinking
about that jerk.
It’s not supposed to hurt this way
I need you, I need you, I need you…
And yet, no matter how much of a jerk he was, she still loved him. And every
breath she took was a painful stab, every heartbeat bringing back a rush of
emotion instead of blood, her pulse a tear that bled and drained her.
Tell me--Are you and me still together?
Tell me--You think we could last forever?
She needed a rock, a rope, something to hold on to. Something to help her run
away. Something to make sense of the blurry images around her. Something
definite. Something strong. Heal her heart. Heal her soul.
Tell me…why…
******
My very first songfic. Yayyyy!!! But I don’t really know if I’m cut out for this type
of thing…
Anyway, this is a kind of prequel to my story, Bleeding Hearts. It jumped at me
when it was---what? Midnight? So I tiptoed to the living room and wrote it on a
piece of paper.
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-troubadour12
39 Clues Fanfic # 1
“Ian, are you even paying attention?”
With a jolt, Ian shook his head, as if he could erase the look in Amy’s face when
he and Natalie had left her, Dan and Alistair entombed at the Pukhansan. Fool! He
chided himself angrily. Stop it! She was just a tactic, not your girlfriend!
He turned his attention to his scowling sister, who didn’t look as beautiful as
usual when she did that. It was like staring at a smaller, feminine version of
himself. But, gorgeous and lovely as she was, with cartloads of common sense like
Natalie always claimed, she was still a bit foolish. Ian had been embarrassed
enough for her actions during the alliance. “Yes, Natalie?”
Natalie crossed her arms in front of her white silk dress with Oriental
embroidery and draped her luxuriant black hair over one shoulder. “There is no
Lake Tash at Kyrgyzstan,” she told him through clenched teeth. “It was one big
joke.”
Ian felt his blood run cold. Had it all been a lie? Had he endangered Amy’s life for
nothing? No-stop thinking about her! He forced himself to view the matter through
the 39 Clues. This was a huge setback. They wouldn’t be able to move on to the
next Clue-and they hadn’t even known the second Clue! The pilot of their private
plane was eyeing them uncertainly, not sure whether to laugh or if they were
deadly serious about Lake Tash.
“Um,” the pilot cleared his throat uncomfortably, “I might be mistaken, of course.
Perhaps I just haven’t heard about it…” His voice trailed off. His hands were
twisting and untwisting nervously, and he gulped, his Adam’s apple bobbing
imperceptibly.
“Well, do a check on it or you’re fired!” Natalie snapped furiously. She couldn’t
believe this. She had thought they were one step ahead of those Cahill orphans, but
it turned out that they had been one step ahead of the brilliant, rich Kabras. We
never lose! She shouted at herself mentally. Especially not to those destined for the
poorhouse!
Everyone thought that this was just another adventure to them, this contest
that old Grace Cahill instituted, the 39 Clues. But this would catapult the Kabras
to even greater glory, to prove that Natalie and Ian were even more clever than their
parents, to prove their worth to their branch, to show them that they weren’t just
riding on their parents’ coattails, that they had talents of their own.
Natalie glanced at her brother. Ever since the alliance with Alistair Oh and those
charity cases, Amy and Dan, he had never been the same anymore. Yes, the
making-Amy-fall-in-love thing was a surefire plan, an excellent strategy. But
Natalie knew something even Ian wouldn’t admit to himself, and their parents
would loathe.
It wasn’t just Amy who had fallen. Ian did, too, consciously or not. Ironic,
predator and prey. Emotion for emotion. My pain for your pain. Isaac Newton had
been right when he had invented the Law of Interaction. But it didn’t hold true
only for objects. It was the same for feelings.
She seethed. Daniel Cahill was going to pay, for lying to them, for making them
look like fools in front of their lesser subjects, but most of all, for having a sister
that had left such a huge impression on her brother.
Soon enough, that thirst for revenge would be quenched.
Amy leaned throbbing temples against the cool, plastic window always present in
airplanes, trying desperately to forget those painful memories. She had won over
Nellie on the fight for the window seat. She had needed some space, some alone
time.
Since that cave-in back in Korea, she had felt dead. First, Ian had betrayed her.
And then, their only real ally ever, Uncle Alistair, had died, only to reappear
mysteriously.
It was too much.
Uncle Alistair was behind her. He had been cursing himself for exposing them to
unnecessary danger just to retrieve a Clue he had already known, which he could
just have told them about. Most of all, he was angry at himself for allowing the
alliance with the Kabras to occur, which led to Amy’s first heartbreak, and finally,
to her slow death within. She was there, but not really around. It had worried
them, but they knew better than to comment upon it. It would just hurt her even
more.
Amy’s green eyes stared out as the landscape faded away, only one name on her
lips.
Ian…
CHAPTER 2
Never did Amy think that anything could make her as surprised as she was right
now. It beat that time Dan brought a rat home, and she came upon him training it
with a tiny wooden sword. Or when his water balloons, meant for the kid next
door, hit her in the face instead.
It had been a long day. They’d changed flights what felt like a thousand times to
her, in order to reach their destination and get away from spies who could be
tailing them. Thank goodness they’d finally stopped to rest at a hotel.
They’d just finished their transaction when one of the receptionists, a darkskinned lady, leaned forward, confusion in her eyes, but kept on her friendly smile
anyway. She handed Amy a small gift-wrapped package. “Amy Cahill, right?” she
confirmed. Numbly, Amy nodded, holding the package in her hand like it was acid
slowly eating through her skin, but she couldn’t summon the right reaction.
The moment they were out of earshot, Dan pounced on her like a hungry cat. He
was in his element now, though he’d been dragging his feet and complaining a
while ago. This was not something Amy enjoyed. “Throw it away,” he suggested,
then turned around with suspicious eyes, scanning crevices and the people
walking behind them. He turned back to her. “It might be a bomb.”
Amy rolled her eyes, exasperated at the way he acted. She was supposed to be the
cautious one, the one afraid of her own shadow. The world was strange
sometimes. “Maybe that’s what you need. An explosion that would shock your
brain, enough for it to finally work,” she shot back.
“If it’s not working, I’d be dead by now,” Dan reminded her smugly, burrowing
into the only loophole he could find. “Besides, you might need it. It just might be
your chance to lose your baboon face!”
Amy smacked his shoulder, hard. “Then maybe you’re a zombie. I mean, you’re a
dweeb with no common sense or feelings.”
Dan scowled. “Hey, if this is about what I said when Ian Kabra dumped you, I’m
sorry. Look, I was angry at him, okay? Do you think---”
“Doesn’t change the fact that you called me dumb,” Amy grumbled, interrupting
him. “Besides, he didn’t dump me. It’s not as if I’m his girlfriend or anything. And
this is not about Ian Cobra.” Saying his name sent a shiver of hate down Amy’s
spine. But there was something else, which was a hundred-no, a million- times
greater than the revulsion she felt. Longing. Love. Something on the fringes of
obsession. This wasn’t just some completely random crush. She couldn’t help
looking over her shoulder, hoping to see his face somewhere, finding her like she was
finding him, to tell her that he--That he what? Loved her? Ridiculous. No, not ridiculous. Impossible. Ian could
never love anybody. Except for himself. How did that saying go? Me, myself, and I?
That was all that mattered him. Me, myself, and I. Amy tried to keep that in mind.
Dan went to the bathroom as soon as they’d found their room. Uncle Alistair
sighed, turned on the TV, and lounged on the couch, tired out. Nellie plopped on
an armchair, singing an off-key rendition of what sounded like Red Jumpsuit
Apparatus’s “No Spell.” Amy wasn’t sure. She sat on one of the two king-size beds,
stopping only to take off her shoes.
It probably wasn’t a good idea to do it here. If the package did explode in flames,
it would spread faster, because bedclothes catch fire easily. But something told her
that it wasn’t dangerous. Only fragile.
She ripped off the sparkly wrapper, and let the ribbon fall away, amidst the bits
and pieces.
A box. A velvet box. A velvet Tiffany box.
Fingers shaking, she opened it up.
Glistening under the glare of lights on a bed of jade-green silk that was almost
the color of Amy’s eyes, was a solid gold chain. Suspended from the chain was a
golden heart, encrusted with diamonds, spelling out the letter A.
Amy’s mind began reeling, going a mile a minute. Who could have sent her this?
Who? Someone rich, definitely. An unknown relative? A secret admirer who’d
mysteriously guessed she would be here?
In her heart, Amy knew who she wanted it to be. But she would as soon fester in
hell before that miracle would occur.
It couldn’t be Ian. It would never happen in a hundred years.
What bothered her was not the fact that Ian was such a conceited little idiot.
She’d known that years ago. No, what really bothered her was the way that
thought had cut through her heart, mangling it into a million tiny pieces. The
glaring reality that she was nothing more than a…a…a tool to him. One of the
females constantly falling at his feet.
She examined the necklace, toying with it. Trying to find a logical reason why
anyone would give her this.
And then she found it.
A latch, so small and camouflaged under more tiny diamonds, that it was barely
noticeable. Curious, she unlatched it and peered inside.
There was a small, folded square of paper inside. Amy reached in, picked it up,
and-her curiosity raging now-unfolded it.
What she read there transported her into a realm of shock.
***********
Well.
Tell me what y’all think!!!
You’re not gonna find out what’s in that piece of
paper(though I think some of you can guess) until I get ten
reviews! Dramatic of me, I know.
But…LOL! Just do it=) Hehehe…
WARNING: EXTREME ROMANTICISM AND SAPPINESS AHEAD!!!
Skip if you can’t stomach this!!!!
This may have something to do with the fact that I’ve read 23 novels, each
with romantic content, lately. And I keep listening to love songs. Or maybe it
just has something to do with hormones.
Anyways, read on! Don’t forget to review! Not mandatory, this time, though.
CHAPTER 3
I’m sorry. I’m sorry for ever hurting you. I’m sorry for betraying your trust.
For breaking your heart. I…want to take it all back. If I had a choice, I would
have saved you all the unnecessary pain. Your hurt makes me hurt, and I can
feel that ache in my chest for what I’ve done.
I know it may be too late. I know it may not be enough. I know you’d never
believe me-and you have reason enough since I’ve been a traitor from the very
first day we met. But please…all I ask is for you read this. For you to know. I’d
gladly give what you want, just as long as you hear me out.
I love you. If you can’t trust me, then I’ll stay away. Please believe that. Please
believe that I care for you more than anything else in the world.
Please…forgive me.
Ian K.
The words came back, again and again, taunting and torturing Ian. It almost felt
as if he’d rather walk across a bed of the hottest coals on earth, endure the heat
and flames of hell, than face the weakness he’d succumbed to in the spur of the
moment. It had all been so spontaneous, unplanned, a first for the Kabras. Their
family always planned their actions, mapped it all out, and thought about each
move. And there he was, buying the necklace on a whim, as if he was being
controlled by someone else. Just like he’d grabbed his gold fountain pen and a
piece of paper, and written the message that had somehow crawled its way out of
the cage he’d thrust it into, the very minute he and Natalie had finally tracked
down Amy, Dan, Nellie, and Uncle Alistair. His sister didn’t suspect a thing. She
was too sure of Ian’s character. Or rather, his former one.
All his life, he’d been raised to be cold and calculating. Cruel. Distant.
Unattached. It was the Kabra way, the winning way. If they’d ever gone soft,
fraternized with the weak, or simply disobeyed, they had regretted it. Power was
something they would willingly kill to have, and power was so easily taken away.
No one could afford to be distracted. But now…he was completely lost in the flood
of emotions that swept through him. It was almost like…like he was under a spell.
A spell that couldn’t be lifted. That made him long to be with a Cahill from the
lower walks of life, a Cahill that was his enemy. Ian always thought the world’s
mysteries made sense to the Kabras, but now, he was starting to think that maybe
the Kabras were the insane ones. Because if he was supposed to be sane, why was
he jealous of Daniel, Amy’s brother, since the boy could be near her, be with her,
protect her, all the time? Why did he see Amy’s face whenever he closed his eyes?
Why?!
Could he love Amy Cahill?
At once, his mind screamed its protest, shrieked out its denial, its horror, at the
wayward thought. No, no, no! That can never happen! Impossible! No!
But that was the rational part, the practical one. The one which stayed calm and
unruffled, forever standoffish. The one created by endless lessons and warnings,
acts of ruthlessness, focused on one, simple goal: WIN. AT ALL COSTS.
The other part, present ever since he was born, but smothered, was incoherent,
yet suddenly the stronger of the two. The one that pulled at his heart, which he’d
thought for so long had crumbled to dust, had transformed to glass. That had
caused it to swell to twice its size for that person who had left such a profound
impact on him.
So profound that, instead of worrying that the letter might reach Amy and thus
reveal his deepest, darkest secret, not to mention his parents swooping in on him if
word of this ever reached them, he was worried it might not make it to her, that
she would never know his true feelings. Weird. Distasteful. But then, wasn’t he
the one who crossed the line? Still…
It wasn’t a question anymore. Not a war of should and shouldn’t. Because the
decision had already been made right from the start, and there was no going back.
No rewind. No take two. And it was final.
Too late to turn back now. And no matter how hard he would try to run away,
Ian Kabra would always love Amy Cahill. First, last, always.
There you have it. I’m putting my foot down and shaking my head “no” to
another chapter. This is officially the end, people!
Sorry if I’m so harsh=) THAT’S the reason why my classmates don’t want me
to be a teacher. Not that I want to be. Hehehe.
Toodles!
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Yahhh, I know I said Chapter 3 was THE END. But Dan and Natalie are
rattling in my skull, demanding to know why I’ve gagged them. Oh, and Dan
wants to know why his sister suddenly has a gold necklace.
Sorry. I easily change my mind. Especially if I’m under duress, because
Natalie is pointing a poison dart gun at me right now, and Dan is threatening
to use his secret ninja powers.
I’m updating soon. For the meantime, I encourage y’all to write your own
fanfics! And to be ready because I might spring a surprise or two=) ‘Might’
being the operative word.
Peace out!
CHAPTER 4
Dan was completely and utterly and irreparably unnerved. A first, for him, but if
anybody saw what he was seeing now, feel what he was feeling now, they would
understand.
Amy was abnormally quiet. Not that that was new. She always was. But it was a
different, unnatural silence, that she could sit next to you and you’d never know
she was there unless you looked at where she was sitting. It frightened and
worried him at the same time. He’d seen her like that before, but never this bad. It
was like her lips were glued together or something, and that bothered Dan. But he
knew Amy would deny it as soon as he opened his mouth.
And another thing. Before they’d checked out of the hotel a while ago, around 5
o’clock am, he’d felt her get out of bed carefully, like a thief sneaking in and out of
a museum for a heist to pull off. He hadn’t been sure whether he should see this or
not, so he’d kept one eye half-open and the other closed, so as not to alert Amy. But
it was enough for him to see the glint and sparkle of a diamond-encrusted gold
necklace she’d pulled out of a box. He’d moved and Amy stiffened, feeling it,
hurriedly stuffed the necklace back in its container, hid it somewhere Dan couldn’t
see even if he’d had two eyes open wide which he wasn’t willing to do, and
climbed back into bed, missing his face by inches. He’d done a thorough once-over
at the hotel lobby later that morning. Heck, he’d even observed her twice. But she
wasn’t wearing it. It would have been noticeable, next to Grace’s jade necklace,
which Amy hated to part with. That only made him all the more certain that
whatever it was, Amy was determined to keep it a secret. Fine with him. He was
just as determined to find out her secret.
He peeked at his sister from the corner of his eye. Amy was hunched over, almost
ending up on the floor curled up in a ball if the rest of her body wasn’t being
restrained by a seatbelt, her long reddish-brown ponytail swinging forward,
reading yet another book. Uncle Alistair seemed to be inexplicably thrilled
whenever he bought Amy a new book. He’d also gotten Dan a Babe Ruth 1964 and
a Mickey Mantle rookie card. That was fine with him, but he didn’t like the way
Uncle Alistair was almost…sucking up to them. He remembered his and Amy’s oath
to stay away from the old guys. He figured they should have signed a contract in
their own blood to help them remember, because here they were, trusting some
excitable old man they barely even knew with their lives. It made him feel
defenseless. Vulnerable.
There was only one other person aside from their parents whom they trusted
without reserve, feeling only safety in her company. Their grandmother, Grace
Cahill. She was a woman of great strength and iron will, fierce in her ideals, but
still capable of giving love, protection, and care to her grandchildren, to two
orphans who had lost their way in this world after their parents had faded away,
preserved only in pictures that had been burned to ashes, who had lost them at
such a young age. She was the only one who could understand them, tolerated
them, took care of them, loved them like no one else did. Every breath of her life
was for them. Worldly possessions paled next to the much greater gifts she’d left
Amy and Dan. She’d given them a life, a path, compassion, talents, skills, and the
ability to feel, to help others. Knowledge. Hope. Respect. Care. Faith. She’d given
them her all. She’d given them the world.
A tear slid unnoticed down Dan’s cheek. He didn’t mind it. He hadn’t had a
chance to mourn Grace’s death, and this didn’t even seem enough. All had been
lost in the stampede for the Clues, the death threats, the break-ins. Grace would
have been proud of them, of their courage, their wit. Amy was usually a coward,
but she was uncharacteristically brave nowadays, and Grace would have wanted
to see it for herself. The miracle itself taking place. Not to mention, Dan would
have to admit, the fact that Amy could always figure out the next big step, always
knew a little of everything. She pointed out the solutions to the puzzles and Dan
solved it. They lost a Clue, Dan had memorized it. They made a great team. Maybe
they wouldn’t win. But what was important was that they’d given it a try.
Thinking about Grace and all their achievements that she would miss made him
sad. He wanted her to be with them now, not Uncle Alistair. He wanted Grace.
Their Grace. He wished he had listened to her stories, paid more attention. There
was so much he didn’t know about his grandmother, and now, he would never
have that chance.
Amy noticed her brother crying, and she felt a pang. “Dan?” she asked softly. “You
okay? What’s wrong?”
“Is there a problem, children?” came Alistair’s voice from behind them.
Nellie didn’t hear a thing.
Amy ignored them both. She focused on her little brother. “What is it?”
Dan hesitated. “Amy?”
“Yes?”
“You said that Grace went around the world, right? Did she ever get to go to
Antarctica?”
Amy nodded. She knew now that her brother had been thinking about Grace. It
kind of made her miss Grace, too, but she concentrated on Dan, forgot herself for a
moment, and began to tell him the story Grace had shared one day when they were
out on a picnic in the meadow, back when she was 11, same as Dan now.
And for once in his life, Dan listened.
Okay, people, whaddaya think?
Just a little request, please. I already have an outlined plot for the next
chapter, but in your reviews, please include your ideas. I might incorporate
them in my story! Unless of course you’re planning to use it for a fanfic of your
own.
Hang in there!
CHAPTER 5
Natalie’s face was becoming an infestation of unsightly wrinkles, eyebags, and a
pallor she’d rather not talk about. And it was all happening so fast.
Her butt ached from sitting down on the plane seat without pause for too long. It
may have been premium, velvet-covered seats, with gold armrests, and a ton of
other amenities, but now, she wouldn’t have known the difference. It all felt like
bristles on her skin, itches she couldn’t scratch. And, needless to say, it annoyed
her.
“When are they going to stop?” she demanded of her brother. Ian was handling it
well. His features barely held a hint of stress and frustration, his posture was not
affected by pressure, and he looked as perfect as ever. That made Natalie jealous.
She wished she could say the same thing for herself, but sadly, the glamorous
Natalie Kabra had turned into a vengeful harpy overnight, being forced to follow
the Cahills’ erratic schedules and endless parade of flights to and fro one country
to another. This she could handle, could live through. After all, sacrificing one’s
comforts was necessary to stay ahead of the game. But she had snapped when she
realized she couldn’t go shopping for new clothes, and would have to be forced to
wear the same outfit twice. Horrors!
Ian rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, unaffected by the tension that emanated from
her sister in noxious waves. It made Natalie want to bash him in the head,
nonchalant and relaxed as he was at every turn of events. God, he had to see the
truth in front of his eyes! “I guess they are trying to avoid any spies, and get to their
destination at the same time. I’d say they have almost succeeded. Their dizzying
route has perhaps discouraged the others to stop tailing them. Who wouldn’t?” He
smiled wryly at his sister. “But we Kabras are a determined lot. We don’t give up,
do we?”
Natalie glared at him, trying to convey that she was going into hysterics inside
already. Yes, Kabras were determined. And right now, she was determined to walk
up to those Cahills, hold them at gunpoint, and scare the truth out of their lips.
But none of these did she say, despite her razor-sharp gaze pointed directly at her
brother. She smiled sweetly at him. “Oh, yes, Ian. Very determined,” she purred.
Ian frowned, hearing the sarcasm dripping from her words. What now? It would
seem that Natalie had the outstanding ability to find something unpleasant in just
about everything. That much was said by her glaring eyes. He sighed. “Alright, Nat.
What is it this time?”
At once, Natalie launched into full-powered whine mode. “One, we’ve hardly been
out of this plane following those bumbling losers. Two, my bum hurts from sitting
down too long. Three, I didn’t get to shop for clothes. And four,” she gestured at
her outfit, “I’m being forced to wear the same clothes twice!”
Ian desperately tried to stifle his laughter and taunts. It wouldn’t do any good to
mock her now. Ian could handle her any moment, but he’d rather not risk being
told off by his parents just because his sister had gone berserk and fired her dart
gun at anyone who got too close. “I once wore an outfit five times. No one really
noticed,” he tried to soothe her. “I didn’t even know you were repeating that.”
“But I do!” Natalie complained. “And I hate wearing it again!”
Her brother shrugged. “Then go naked,” he told her, as if that solved everything,
and turned away.
“Ugh!” Natalie flicked an embroidered handkerchief at him and, not waiting for a
reaction, she stood up and transferred to a different seat in an act of petulance.
There she sat and sulked, arms crossed over her violet, pleated silk dress with a
diamond brooch, metallic silver leather leggings, and violet suede ankle boots.
She’d heard that violet was considered the ‘royal’ color, and had been eager to have
things in that precise shade. But just now, she didn’t feel too comforted by it,
especially when it was on an outfit she’d worn, for goodness’ sake, twice.
She took out the latest issue of Elle magazine and flipped through the glossy
pages, keeping one eye on Ian. He thought she was that gullible, that blind. Like she
hadn’t seen the furtive look in his eyes the day they tracked down the little, forlorn
group composed of those losers, Uncle Alistair, and their too-spirited babysitter,
Nella or Nita-something like that. They might have remembered each others’
names during that alliance but that didn’t mean it was important enough to be
remembered now, when all that was over and behind them. They were such a
pathetic group. It was a mystery to Natalie how they’d even gotten out of
Pukhansan. Of course, she wasn’t so stupid as to have not checked the news.
Apparently, there had been an explosion-the key to their escape. Though why and
how, nobody knew. Not even her.
Whatever. They were not worth dwelling on. Natalie had worse problems than
that. Now that she had spilled all her frustrations, her head was cleared, and she
could focus on another, much more important crisis. The crisis that involved her
brother.
Ian thought she had her back turned to him all the time. That she was too
wrapped up in other things to notice what she was doing. But that was where he
erred. Because she was keeping a close eye on him more than he ever thought. And
his actions both perplexed and scared her at the same time.
Who was the letter for? And the necklace? What was inside that paper? Is he plotting something
without telling me?
She had an idea or two regarding the receiver. And then there was that very
distasteful possibility that---but no. Ian may have more IQ points than common
sense, but that did not mean he would be that stupid. Yet when did Ian necessarily
follow the rules? Plenty of times, yes. However, that obedience could easily be
discarded…
It made Natalie unsure, and she despised that feeling. She was supposed to be a
model of confidence! Why, she could even argue the socks off any other debater
during competitions! And she always won.
Soon, she would know. Soon, she would figure it all out. But not now. Now, she
was going to call Alexander McQueen and--She never got to finish the thought. Natalie Kabra slumped in her seat, falling
asleep, under the influence of a sleeping pill that Ian had slipped into her iced tea a
while ago, out of pity for his sister. Uncommon. But she was family, after all. And
it would save Ian the torture brought about by her constant complaining.
*******
Alistair Oh knew a moment of panic when he saw one. They were so close to their
destination, so close to the Fourth Clue, but alas, it would seem that the gods were
conspiring against them. Of all the rotten luck! This had to be the time Mr.
McIntyre picked up his phone and got to telling them about the recent
developments. It took all of his patience and presence to calm his mind and control
his temper.
He forced a smile at his companions. Not only were Dan’s eyes puffy and red
from crying on the plane, he was tired, and so was Amy. Saladin was languidly
resting inside his cat carrier which Nellie held in her slack hands, even the teenage
au pair not able to handle the stress. Alistair made a mental note to ask his
colleagues for a private jet. It would save money, effort, energy, and time, one thing
they could not afford to waste. “It seems there is an emergency, and good old Mr.
McIntyre wants us to travel to the Kabra estate in England for a meeting.” His
voice was falsely bright, and that made him miserable. It didn’t help that Dan gave
a disappointed groan, underlined by his sister’s weary sigh.
“Arrgh,” Dan complained. “Do we have to go through that all over again?”
Alistair knew he was referring to the constant flight changes. He shook his head.
“I will ask my business associate to do me a favor and let us borrow his private jet,
outfitted with crew. Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure it’s safe.”
“I hope so,” Amy murmured. She desperately tried to hide the thrill she felt at the
realization that she might run into Ian. But…what if those words were just that,
nothing more than words? What if he didn’t mean anything by them? What if,
what if…
She couldn’t be sure of anything. Couldn’t be sure of her own feelings, of Ian’s
feelings. To him, love and betrayal were entirely interchangeable. And it sparked
the doubt already flaring in her mind.
There was only one way to be certain. They would have to go. Amy couldn’t trust
him just yet. She still needed answers.
And if things went perfectly, she would have them.
******
The surprise is coming up-and fast! One thing’s for sure-nothing is as it seems.
=)
CHAPTER 6
Nellie Gomez’s ambition in life was to be a chef. But now, her mouth hanging open
at the splendor of the Kabra estate, she wondered if, as an art dealer, she would be
better off. Perhaps, she could persuade her father…
After a heated discussion that involved at least three jokes from Dan, which
compelled Amy to tell him to grow up, at which Dan had fired a series of insults
pertaining to her “dull life,” making Alistair’s head pound and tell them to quit
arguing, they finally decided that Nellie had to come with them, too.
“I’m not so sure if I should tag along, kiddos,” Nellie confessed, looking at the
magnificent mansion warily as they walked toward it from the grassy spot where
they had parked their car. “Sure, I’m au pairing you on your quest, but that doesn’t
mean everyone’s gonna, like, accept me ‘cause of that. I’m not a Cahill like you
three are.”
“You’re coming with us,” Amy told her firmly. “We need you around, too. I mean,
you can be pretty scary if you want to.”
Nellie muttered something that sounded like, “Nothing seems to creep the hell
out of those suckers.”
“Yeah, Nellie,” Dan said, bobbing his head enthusiastically, his hair flopping over
his eyes. “Didn’t you give Uncle Alistair a black eye once?”
Alistair winced at the memory. “That is a lethal backpack you have, dear. And
Dan, if that was supposed to make me feel better, it is most certainly not working.”
Dan was confused. “What do you-” he began, but Amy elbowed him in the ribs.
They reversed to their silent communication. What?
I’d appreciate it, dweeb, if you think about what you would say every time. Her eyes seemed
to bore holes into his.
I am thinking, he protested hotly. You think I’m an immature, delusional eleven-year-old,
but I understand things more than you think!
Amy shook her head. For a second, Dan thought she was going to apologize--until he saw what she had to say next. I don’t think you’re immature, she corrected. I
know you’re immature.
Thanks a lot! He grumbled, his emotions far from being grateful, or anything close
to it.
No problem, El Dweebo.
Fine with me, prune face.
Amy’s eyes flashed a burning, blazing anger, but before she could react, before
Dan could think of anything to say to her for a counterattack, the porch came to
view. It was teeming with their rivals, studiously ignoring each other and doing
their own thing, but managing to look dangerous at the same time.
The Holts. Looking like they’d come all the way from a military academy or
something to that effect, they were being whipped into shape by their fanatic of a
father, who was barking out instructions for them to jog in place, then do a
hundred squats. Mary-Todd Holt was trying to placate her husband, telling him to
go easy on their children. But Eisenhower shook his head. “It builds endurance!” he
insisted.
Jonah Wizard and his ever-present father, Broderick, were having an argument,
even as his father’s thumbs flew across his BlackBerry, typing out messages,
probably sharing Jonah’s views on the subject they were butting heads over to his
sponsors and promoters.
Irina Spasky stood a little way off, careful with her movements, uncomfortable in
the abode of another Lucian. She tapped her foot impatiently, muttering words in
Russian to herself. Perhaps backstabbing the others present. She had better be
grateful no one spoke her language, if that was the case.
To Amy and Dan’s surprise, the Starlings were present. Sinead’s auburn hair
flowed freely around her face, her clothes identical to her brothers’. Ned and Ted
both wore berets over their hair. They didn’t seem to notice the Cahills’ gaze
centered on them. They were involved in a conversation of their own.
Sitting on the porch swing and looking very disgusted at the presence of other
people in their home, Natalie and Ian Kabra wore identical designer ware. As Amy
glanced at them, Ian’s head popped up, as if he had felt her presence. His gaze met
hers, and his amber eyes seemed to smile, freezing her in place even as she melted.
Or maybe that was just a trick of light. Amy wasn’t sure. He looked as handsome
and as flawless as before, his jet-black hair, dark skin, and perfect features always
managing to make her stomach turn. Amy looked away, and she, Dan, Nellie, and
Uncle Alistair headed to an empty spot near the railing. Nellie felt uneasy,
surrounded by their enemies. But she had a whole lot of spirit, and bore it well.
Amy scanned the crowd. There was no sign of Mr. McIntyre. They had been the
last to come here, that they were sure of, but still the old lawyer wasn’t around.
That puzzled her. Where was he? Mr. McIntyre was always on time. He was a
professional, after all. But not even a ghost of his breath hung around.
She looked at her brother, leaning against the marble-and-gold railing beside her.
His face frowned as he noticed Mr. McIntyre’s appearance, or rather, the lack of it.
What happened to him? He mouthed.
Amy shook her head and shrugged. If he didn’t know, how could he expect her to
know? It wasn’t as if you’d figure out the whereabouts of a person even if you
memorized a map. You’d just have to wait if he turned up.
Amy didn’t know it, but Ian was watching her, observing every twitch of her
body, every inclination to move.
He was disappointed to see that she wasn’t wearing the necklace he’d sent. Of
course it had reached her. Wasn’t that what the lady receptionist had said? Aside
from the relentless probing if Amy was his girlfriend or a relative of some sort. He
had answered that she was his relative, although the woman had wrinkled her
forehead as she processed this with some disbelief. But she need not concern
herself with the turn of affairs. Ian would have Amy as what that lady had so
obviously expected. His girlfriend. And that would happen soon enough.
Natalie’s sharp intake of breath reminded him of the role he had to play. The role
of a reluctant host, with his nose turned up against the others. But it was nothing
more than an act. To tell the truth, she could have asked him to slither like a snake
and he wouldn’t have minded. Seeing Amy was enough to raise his spirits. He was
soaring through endless blue skies like an eagle, forever free, unfettered and
without bonds.
******
Mr. McIntyre folded his hands over the teakwood desk in the room assigned to
him by the Kabras. He still had doubts regarding the trustworthiness of the two
conniving Branch Leaders, but in the long run, no one could afford to be
squeamish. He smiled wryly as he remembered the words blind faith. The very
words returned his attention to a matter of urgency.
He sized up the pair that sat shyly in front of him. He had heard of the two
O’Sheas; they were the Tomas branch’s leading junior agents. However, due to a
stroke of misfortune, they were both detained in the hospital because of an
unusual case of the flu on the day of the will-reading. Now, at this late date, they
were asking William McIntyre to allow them to participate. He could not stop
them. Surely, the Tomas would be after his head. And he had their sick condition
to consider.
He sighed. It was, indeed, a most taxing task. Even if the O’Sheas would join, he
could not give them any leads beyond the first Clue. Amy and Dan had left their
competitors to choke on their dust. So far, as the race had progressed, they had
obtained each of the clues involved. The two here would have to use their own
resources to grope their way to the fourth Clue.
He turned his unwavering gaze at them. “Have you thought this through?” he
asked. “Once I announce you as official participants of the race, there is no turning
back. Your path will be a hundred times more difficult than what others had had
to endure. You will have to use your own means to get the information you need.”
Yet theirs was not as harrowing as Amy and Dan’s. Without knowing it, the two
carried the burden of the Cahill clan’s expectations. They were just orphans, in a
room full of light one day, stuck into a tunnel of darkness the next. Nobody’s
hardships could ever come close to theirs.
Tristan, the older between the two, and the same age as Amy, looked at his
eleven-year-old sister, Paige. Paige had a worried look on her face, and was
chewing the end of her golden-brown plait nervously. Her brown eyes were orbs
of worry.
Her hands trembling, she nodded. William knew that Tristan was making sure
that all bridges were burned before moving on. He looked into the old lawyer’s
sharp, intuitive eyes. He was a fine specimen of boys, almost in the league of Ian
Kabra, though McIntyre doubted that Tristan O’Shea had any violent inclinations
to exterminate all his enemies. “Yes. We are sure.” His answer and tone sealed the
deal at last.
Mr. McIntyre stood. After a split-second’s hesitation, the pair copied him.
Tristan ran his hand through his sandy-brown hair absentmindedly, his brown
eyes a little uneasy.
“Then it is done,” Mr. McIntyre told them.
******
Dan checked his watch for the umpteenth time. They’d arrived here at 8:35 am.
Now it was 10:55 am, and there was still no sign of Mr. McIntyre; not his sombercolored suit, his sharp eyes, his businesslike air. He looked around.
“Maybe he was abducted,” he hissed in Amy’s ear. She had taken out yet another
book, and was devouring it with enthusiasm, determined not to let her gaze
wander---especially not to where Ian was. But Dan didn’t know that.
“Have you seen their security around here?” she hissed back, eyes on the book, not
even bothering to glance at him. “They have huge mastiffs and German Shepherds,
and every two miles, there’s a team of guards. You think he was abducted?”
“Don’t be sarcastic,” he muttered under his breath, but Amy could still hear it. “It
makes your ugly and wrinkly face more…ugly and wrinkly.”
Amy finally removed her attention from the book---enough to whack her brother
in the head with it. “I find it hard to believe that a delusional ninja lord could be so
blind. But then again, you are delusional, a madman experiencing hallucinations, so
I guess that’s an excuse. Though it won’t work for me.”
“Ow!” Dan yelped, clutching the side of his head protectively with both hands.
“That hurt!”
Alistair, who had been leaning heavily against his cane and fighting back sleep,
straightened up and blinked in surprise. Nellie, hearing the scuffle that had
ensued, plucked out an earbud and marched over to the two. “Alright, who started
it?”
“Amy!” Dan accused, pointing his forefinger at his sister, who was glaring at him
so furiously, that it could burn through. Nellie looked at the suspect.
“What are you looking at?” Amy said, hurt showing in her tone. “He started it! I
was just reading my book!”
Nellie stood there in front of them, arms crossed, her purple glitter eye shadow
enhancing her eyebrows, which had leapt up almost to her hairline. She considered
their expressions for a moment. Then, without warning, she leaned forward and
pinched Dan’s ear.
“Ow!” Dan cried for the second time. This brought heads swiveling to his,
Nellie’s, and Amy’s direction. Amy barely noticed, a triumphant expression setting
up shop on her face. Nellie settled herself between them, then re-plugged her loose
earbud. Dan’s ear was red, and his head smarted from Amy’s blow. With one hand,
he curled his hand over his ear, the other hand on his head. Natalie giggled.
Automatically, his eyes cast around for the source, but before he could even
pinpoint anyone, Mr. McIntyre appeared, behind him two kids with goldenbrown hair, perfectly-even tans, and brown eyes who could give the Kabras a run
for their money. The boy was dressed in a printed blue-and-white shirt, khaki
cargo shorts, and Adidas shoes. On his arms were rubber bands and ballers in neon
colors. The girl, obviously his sister, wore a sleeveless yellow top, denim shorts,
and Skechers, her shoulder-length hair in a single plait.
CHAPTER 7
The green monster reared up its head, bellowing in anger, filling Ian with so much
jealousy he’d never thought he could hold within. His glittering, angry amber eyes
followed Tristan and Amy as they rolled a soccer ball back and forth, even
tumbling over each other once, their hair tangling. Ian stiffened at this scene, and a
sudden surge of hostility overpowered him.
He tried to relax, concentrating on mundane things, such as the fact that his room
had accumulated a tiny centimeter of dust, which the hundred maids had
overlooked. He would have to talk to Mrs. Bunce, the rail-thin housekeeper put in
charge of the servants, regarding this matter. Ian disliked dirt, which was why his
room was kept immaculately clean, even while he was away. Ah, good. He was
distracted now, free to ponder over things that required his attention.
Sinead Starling. She had been dogging him all day, following him around with a
determination that had amazed even Ian himself. He didn’t know what she wanted,
but he was weary of the way she trailed him like a stalker. Already, his emotions
were very close to the surface. Jealousy and hostility, confusion and frustration,
irritation and annoyance, not to mention that his growing feelings for Amy placed
him in a dangerous position, which could only be described as the tip of a knife,
the edge of a cliff, and one wrong move would send him plummeting down to
unknown dangers. Because of that…forbidden love, his parents would disown him,
no doubt flying into a glorious rage Ian would have never seen the likes of before;
his branch would turn traitor against him, reveal the very talents and ruthlessness
that had distinguished them as the most powerful among all the Cahill branches;
his sister would refuse to help him, regard him with cold eyes and a freezing
demeanor. Even now, Ian had to make a choice. And for the first time, he was
running away from it.
Natalie was oblivious to all this, that he was sure of. How could she not be? Her
eyes barely glanced at him; she hardly noticed his disappearances, his steady
detachment, his little emotional outbursts related to his frustrations with Amy that
he could not sometimes control, the professional way he acted and dealt with
problems that was not rooted on sincerity; and, most importantly, the conversations
he was now having in his head because he could not confide in her and trust her to
keep it a secret, not anymore. It was the last resort he would take, if all else failed.
Absentmindedly, he smoothed out the creases on his tailor-made Versace
pants, gazing out at the landscape, though careful not to even glance at Amy and
Tristan frolicking amongst the blades of grass and petals of flowers, so as not to
take him down temptation’s path and tackle Tristan before it was too late. The
world worked in strange ways. Sometimes, he himself was staggered by the speed
at which things traveled, the way they went on. And the greatest mystery was the
way this envy swamped him, leaving no room for him to breathe. It was like he
was drowning, and didn’t know which way ‘up’ was.
One thing was for sure. Tristan shouldn’t get Amy Cahill. Ian would not allow it.
He might as well drop down on his knees and admit to everyone the turmoil going
through his head.
He stared unseeingly at his surroundings, wondering if this was payment for all
his evil deeds in the past, no matter how necessary they had been.
******
It was late afternoon, and Sinead was using the ploy of a cell phone text to hide
behind while she scrutinized Ian Kabra. His face was impassive, expressionless,
eyes glazed, chewing over some deep thought. As she observed him, a rush of
wind blew, disturbing his jet-black hair. Without seeming to think about it, he
brushed away the strands that had fallen across his eyes, those amber eyes of his
that sparkled with whatever emotion passing through him at the moment,
hypnotizing Sinead, making her woozy, leading her to wonder why this boy had to
be so handsome that he could turn her head.
She was just a girl, after all. A gorgeous, beautiful, wonderful---in other words, a
perfect girl. But still a girl, who could fall for an equally gorgeous, good-looking,
wonderful, perfect boy who also happened to be rich, part of a powerful family, not
to mention brilliant. He was a devious Lucian, that was true, but that didn’t matter
to Sinead. Not at all. He could have been a Madrigal for all she cared---just as long
as she had him as her prize.
And she would have him. She knew he was avoiding her; Ian was smart enough
to realize that, maybe more. Sinead didn’t understand why he wasn’t taking the
golden opportunity to be with her. Perhaps he was being overly-cautious? Boys
were so hard to understand.
Her eyes narrowed as, from a peripheral peek, she saw his eyes slide over to
where Amy Cahill and Tristan O’Shea sat, at the base of one of the many trees that
decorated the Kabra estate, at the same time keeping away the riffraffs. What did
he see in that-shudder-unfashionable, bland, poor orphan girl? The novelty of
having no parents? Her hideous hair? Her stuttering tongue? What? What was it
the attracted him so?
She tried to console herself with the fact that perhaps, he was just biding his
time, wrench information about the 39 Clues from her at the proper moment.
That’s all. But if Ian liked this girl on any level higher than he liked Sinead--though she was pretty confident that the top rung belonged to her only---she was
going to raise hell and come after both of them in all the fiery blaze of her temper,
and she would make sure that neither got away from her iron-hard clutches.
She settled back in her seat. She needed to relax. Ian was a wad of putty in her
hands; he would have no shield to defend himself. Sinead smiled in anticipation of
the day it would finally happen.
******
Dan’s intuition told him that something was happening, a storm brewing amidst
tranquility, a teetering domino about to fall and set off a chain of events. And it
was all because of four people.
Four people. Just four people. Yet they would be the cause of much devastation--or so according to his mind. He knew he was right.
They were having dinner in the so-called Ancestors’ Hall. It made Dan
uncomfortable, mingling amongst his enemies. What made it even worse was that
Amy was not sitting directly beside him. Sure, Uncle Alistair and Nellie flanked
him like two stone pillars, but he didn’t figure it a good sign that Paige was sitting
by Nellie, next to her brother, who, through some meticulous planning, managed to
maneuver Amy into a seat beside him. And some kind of omen had placed Ian
Cobra on the other side of Amy. Weirdly enough, instead of Ian’s sister, Natalie,
beside him, Sinead was in her seat instead. Natalie had been pushed off in between
Ned and Ted.
His mind was a jumble of mixed theories, incomplete thoughts, all rooted in
suspicion. He knew only one thing---some foul force was at play, firing blows
before Dan could even stagger up and run. And yet…yet he felt that this went
beyond just the surface. It had some deeper meaning, a meaning he was not yet
ready to face. But what if it was true? What if…what if it was what he suspected?
What if this was a love square of some sort? Sinead chasing after Ian, Tristan and
Ian after---please, no---Amy, and Amy undecided between her ex and the crush
turned traitor. It was hard to tell what she felt nowadays.
The next scene proved it all. Amy had been reaching for the glass pitcher of
water. Pitting against each other on some kind of competition, Tristan and Ian
reached for it, knocking Amy’s hand away. She cringed in pain, or maybe that was
just her reaction to the suddenly intense death glare Sinead shot her. Ian beat
Tristan to the pitcher, his arm was longer. He brought it back, pouring the contents
into Amy’s glass, while she blushed, saying thanks to her lap and fingering the
hem of the table skirt. Her brother’s bizarre reaction froze Natalie in the act of
reaching for her own glass. Add to that Sinead’s face reddening in anger, hands
clenched in fists, and Tristan’s taut jaw, stopping the path of spoons loaded with
food to Paige’s, Ned’s, and Ted’s mouths. It chilled Dan to the core.
He would have to do it, though the idea made him wince. As servants appeared
to clear the table, he took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he must do.
******
Ned Starling knew there was a reason behind his sister’s pendulum swing of
emotions, her bizarre actions. But before he and his brother, Ted, could chase after
her, they were held up by a rat.
A rat going by the name of Daniel Cahill.
They weren’t alone. He had managed to convince Paige and Natalie to stay, too.
Paige was fiddling with the elastic that held her braid in place, while Natalie
crossed her arms, scowling as she restrained herself from going after her brother,
slap him senseless, and call for Lucian reinforcements. She went over to an empty
seat, eyeing daggers at Dan, who shifted uncomfortably in his chair.
“Okay, you guys,” he began nervously, looking down at his shoes rather than at
his companions. “I think you can pretty much guess what’s going on. And I know
you don’t like it, either.”
They looked at him, confused. Or rather, at his dark blond hair.
“Um, what are you talking about?” Ted demanded, smacking his fist on the table
for good measure.
“Be careful!” Natalie shrieked. “That’s a $5 million dollar antique, made from
the finest oak overlaid with high-quality, pure gold leaf, and encrusted with real
jewels. Of course, we Kabras can buy another, but this is one of a kind!”
Ted rolled his eyes, smirking as he high-fived Ned. “‘That’s a $5 million dollar
antique, made from the finest oak overlaid with high-quality, pure gold leaf,’” he
mimicked, then stopped when Natalie pulled out a gun from nowhere, smiling
sweetly as she aimed the barrel at him, fingers at the ready to pull the trigger.
“Oh, go on, Ted,” she urged. “Let’s see…what would you want? An instant
death? A deadly headache? Perhaps the urge to go into hysterics? I can easily
provide that for you.”
Ted paled, his fair skin receding into a snowy-white tone. Paige shrank, making
herself small, staring at Natalie’s gun with crippling terror all over her face. Ned’s
bravado vanished into thin air.
Dan coughed, unaffected. This was nothing new. “Oh-kayyy,” he interjected.
“Thank you for the unexpected threat, Natalie. Didn’t see that coming. Well,” he
finally faced the others, ignoring Ned’s blusters of “She’s holding a damned gun!”
and continued, “There’s a crisis right under our noses.”
“Of course there’s a crisis,” Natalie fumed. “Mom and Dad will get mad if they
see a dent because of Ted Starling’s overactive hand.”
Dan sighed in frustration. “No, I mean our siblings! The way they act!
Like…like they’re in some competition or something!”
Natalie lowered her gun and glared at Dan with piercing eyes, trying to see
through him. Ned and Ted seemed unable to even utter a sigh of relief. Beside
Dan, Paige began to nibble her nails nervously.
After a few minutes and no one deigned to answer him, or even comment, Dan
added, “C’mon. I know you know it, too. Paige,” he turned to the girl fidgeting in
her chair, “can’t you see how Tristan is fighting against Ian? And Natalie, you’re
no fool. Surely, you realize what your brother’s up to? Ned and Ted, don’t you see
how Sinead wants to claw Amy’s eyes out? And Amy…well, she’s not…confiding
in me anymore.”
Natalie’s face hardened. “Of course I know what Ian’s up to! He may think I’m
not aware of what he’s doing behind my back, but I do! And it’s not…not right!
The Lucians and my parents will disown him if he so much as goes one step more
into his plan. And me? I’m stuck in the middle, unable to talk, but not wanting to
hide. It’s totally unfair!”
“Tristan is inexplicably out of character, too,” Paige said softly. “I’ve never seen
him so determined and…I don’t know…jealous? He’s…not usually one to hold a
grudge. But when Ian’s around, it’s like he goes into all-out full battle mode.”
“Sinead’s used to getting what she wants,” Ned pointed out.
“And what she wants is Ian Kabra,” Ted put in. He glanced at Natalie, then
mumbled, “Though I don’t know what she wants with that poisonous eleven-yearold witch.”
The gun came right back up. “You’re going to regret what you just said when
I’m through with you,” Natalie purred. “Now shut up and stop insulting the
magnificent Kabra lineage.”
Ted raised an eyebrow in skepticism, but kept his mouth shut.
“Calm down, Nat,” Dan cut in. “Alright. There’s going to be total chaos if we let
this go on, and I don’t want my sister to fraternize with the enemy. So,” he jabbed
his finger at each of them, “We have to separate them from each other. Or rather,
partner them up---where they belong. Sinead with Ian, ‘cause they’re kinda perfect
for one another, what with their perfection and all, and Tristan with Amy. You
with me?”
They looked at each other. Then, together, they nodded. They had to admit, the
boy was right. Even Natalie was impressed by his idea.
“Good.” Dan grinned deviously. “We start…tomorrow.”
******
Uh-oh. What are they all up to now?!
One thing: Lil’ sibs are meant to be seen and not heard, or allowed to do
what they want.
‘Nuff said.
CHAPTER 8
It was a peaceful start to a peaceful day. A gentle wind blew, tree’s branches
swayed, the sun shone, and puffy white clouds floated amidst endless blue sky.
Everything seemed to make you smile. Everything glowed.
Everything did not warn anyone of what was about to happen next.
Five pairs of eyes suddenly sprang up from breaks in a row of fat, blooming
rosebushes, scanning the landscape anxiously. Then, as quickly as they had
appeared, they were gone, leaving no trace of their suspicious action on the
bushes. Light footsteps pattered away, receding in the distance, with only a brief
glimpse of different faces as evidence. And then the bushes were as quiet as ever.
Dan led the group silently, tiptoeing to a nearby hedge. Quickly, he ducked
behind it, and crouched out of sight. The others glanced around for spies or
recording devices, then followed him. They waited a moment in silence, ears
pricked for a sound not their own. When they were sure there was none, they
huddled together, Natalie emitting a hushed sound of disgust when she spotted
grass stains on her black skinny jeans, which she’d favored over a red silk dress for
this mission.
“Put a cork on it, Nat,” Ted retorted to her horrified face, annoyed. “It’s just jeans.
Somebody’s going to hear you and bust us.”
“But it’s custom-made by Prada!” Natalie whisper-wailed, upset that they’d
missed the urgency of the situation. To her, this was a tragedy.
“Uh, Natalie? He’s right,” Dan told her. “We’re going to get caught if you’ll keep
going on about grass stains. We have to plan.”
“Yeah, so what are we going to do now?” Ned butted in, giving Natalie no chance
to reply. “I mean, we hardly had anything up last night.”
“That’s ‘cause Sinead had to leave her sunglasses behind and saunter in,” Ted
grumbled darkly.
“Well, I did say if we could move to the porch, but all of you said you were too
tired,” Dan reminded him matter-of-factly.
Ted opened his mouth, but Paige interjected before he could. “Okay, point taken,
Dan. Now what?”
“We go for plan A,” Dan stated, like it was so obvious. Which it was not. He was
met by identical looks of confusion. “What?”
“What’s plan A?” Natalie wanted to know, frowning as she tossed back her long
dark tresses with a flourish.
“Yeah, you never told us there was a plan A,” Ned piped up.
Dan rolled his eyes and exhaled sharply in exasperation. “Simple. All we have to
do is separate them. I mean, by pair---Tristan and Amy, and Ian and Sinead. Then
they’ll get to talking, discover their similarities, and realize they’re in love with
each other. Easy. We don’t even have to break a sweat!”
Ted raised an eyebrow. When he spoke, his tone implied that he thought it was
far-fetched---yeah, it kind of made sense, but who’s to say they’ll even talk to each
other? “You actually think that’s going to work?”
Dan glared at him, resenting the intrusion, like everyone thought he was still a
little kid. “You got an idea?” he demanded stiffly. “‘Cause if you do, please share.”
Anger passed across Ted’s face, and his eyes narrowed to become infinitesimal
specks. “Watch it, junior,” he snarled. “Just because you started this doesn’t mean
you can get all high and mighty. Got that?! Or I’ll teach you and your impertinent
big mouth a lesson.”
“Yeah, totally,” Ned agreed.
“Ugh, whatever,” Natalie said, waving her hand as if she was fanning away some
noxious, unwelcome fumes that had pervaded her nostrils. “Are we going to start
or not?”
Dan’s gaze lingered on Ted for a moment. “Yes. But it would be better if we don’t
go after our own siblings.”
“Cool,” Ted enthused, forgetting the little spat he and Dan had had a second ago.
“What about Paige with Amy, you for Tristan, Natalie for Sinead, and me for Ian?”
“Sure. Fine.” Dan stood, brushing off leaves from his pants. The others followed.
“What about me?” Ned whined like a little child denied sweets.
“You make sure to tie up loose ends, monitor them, and make sure everything
goes according to plan,” Ted explained, thinking fast.
“Oh. Okay.” Ned smiled, mollified.
They arranged themselves in a single line, Natalie jockeying for the middle
position. With a brief, curt nod, they spread out.
Phase 1-Plan A of “Operation: Separation” had begun.
******
Amy was caught up in a book on a bench in one of the gardens’ rose walk,
suspecting nothing, when she was ambushed. Paige walked to her hesitatingly,
unsure.
“Hi, Amy,” she squeaked, unable to keep the meekness from her voice. She hated
deception, no matter how necessary. And the fact that Amy was a friend, her
brother’s former girlfriend, only made her feel worse.
Amy looked up from Little Women with a start, sitting up in order to get a good
look at the speaker. When she saw Paige, her pulse returned to its rhythmic,
normal beat. “G-g-god, Paige. You scared me. What are you doing here?”
Paige took a deep breath to calm her strained nerves. “Um, I was looking for you.
I-I wanted to show you something.”
Amy contemplated this for a minute. Then with a sigh, she stood. “Guess Little
Women can wait,” she chirped with good humor. Paige smiled encouragingly and
led the way.
“You’re gonna love this,” she promised. And, not knowing her fate, Amy stepped
right into the trap.
It was hard to tell where they were going. In the first place, the Kabra estate was
enormous---you could easily get lost. And Paige was hoping to get a little lost. She
prayed that Ned was keeping a close eye on her direction, because she would need
him to get back, and Dan would need him to lead them to where Amy was---Dan
safely kept out of sight, of course.
They went through a lawn with nothing but grass and wildflowers, through
woods of entirely oak and dogwoods, stopping at what looked like a crystal-clear
lake that had been part of the place since time out of mind. It was ringed by--what was the name again---chrysanthemums, with a pebbled walkway, a bench
with slatted wood pieces and an ornately done gold carving for a backrest, and a
few swings hanging from trees with rattan ropes, a rugged addition at home with
the setting but quite contrary to the extravagant family’s tastes. As Amy looked
around curiously, she saw steps carved right into the trunk of an old oak tree,
leading to the open doorway of a treehouse, blocked by a jade silk screen.
Windows were chiseled right into the bark. There were no ‘keep out!’ warnings.
Just an intricate exterior, and certainly a magnificent interior.
“Is this what you wanted to show me?” Amy breathed in wonder, reveling in the
simple beauty and loveliness of this mystical place which seemed to hold magic in
store for her.
“Uh, yes,” Paige lied, the words overlapping each other as she hurriedly said it, so
that Amy could not detect the falsehood underneath. “Hey, can I leave you here? I,
um, need something, and I’m sure you want to appreciate this alone.” Or not, she
thought. But Amy did not need to know that.
“Okay,” Amy replied absently, walking over carefully to the edge of the lake,
squatted and rocked back and forth on her heels, twirling her finger dreamily on
the water. Paige left, taking out her cell phone to contact Ned and tell him to send
over Tristan and Dan.
Time passed, a little bit sluggishly, but it passed nonetheless. Soon, Amy
awakened from her trance, realizing, as she looked around her, that she was
completely alone. And she didn’t know the way out, or even where she was exactly.
Add to that the fact that Dan had borrowed her cell phone a while ago, and she
had given it to him.
Panic overrode her senses. Where should she go now? What should she do? She
could hardly leave this place. She’d just get even more lost! Standing up, trying to
figure out what to do, she hoped that someone---anyone---would come here and
find her, or that Paige would go back for her. Why hadn’t she paid more attention
to her surroundings in the first place? Why had she been so careless?
Wringing her hands with terror, she turned in a circle, looking for some
plausible way out. As she faced the lake again, she heard a rustle, then the light
sound of practiced, steady footsteps. Who was it? A friend she could turn to for
help? Or a foe?
“Amy?” the voice asked, surprised, and though she had heard it so few times in
her life, it felt familiar, forever haunting her. She froze in place.
More footsteps, heading toward her. A warm, strong hand clasped her shoulder
and turned her petrified body around. “Why are you here?”
Amy stared at the emerald-green cashmere sweater that faced her, the only safe
thing she could meet eye-to-eye. But it did not stop her from stuttering her
answer. She was badly shaken---first the realization that she couldn’t find her
way, and then this. She wanted so badly to evaporate. “I-I was---I mean, P-paige
brought m-me here b-b-because…I don’t kn-know,” she explained lamely, her
words indistinct and a little slurred.
“Slow down,” the velvet voice teased lightly. It was a shock. Forgetting that she
was supposed to ignore him, Amy looked up at his face.
Ian Kabra was looking back at her, a small half-smile playing on his lips, every
feature as perfect and as handsome as she remembered it. His amber eyes seemed
to be laughing, but there were hints of worry in there. He brushed away a lock of
hair that had blown across her eyes, and she stiffened. Feeling this, Ian stepped
back, thrusting his hands into his pockets. “Are you lost?” he inquired, voice flat,
like it was a spiel he repeated ten times a day. But his eyes were full of emotion.
“N-n-no,” Amy denied, not wanting to appear weak. He was grinning now, white
teeth flashing in the sunlight.
“I’ll leave you then, if you can find your way,” he started to walk away. Mortified,
Amy stepped forward.
“No!” she shouted. He stopped and turned back to her.
“Is there a problem?” He was leading her on, taunting her, trying to get her to
submit. But she needed him if she was going to get out of here.
“No, I mean, y-yes. I-I’m l-lost,” she confessed. Ian cocked his head. Then,
without a word, the corners of his lips twitching, he surprised Amy by reaching for
her hand. Seeing the conflicted look in her eyes and the way she shied away, he
said, voice tight, “You might get lost. Again.” Amy blushed, placing her shaking
hand on his. Ian closed his long fingers around it, then began to walk, Amy trailing
after him. “We’ll get out of here soon enough,” he assured her gently.
Hidden amidst the trees, Ted and Paige were berating Ned, who had come here
to see it all in action. “You failed us!” Ted scolded in hushed tones. Natalie and Dan
were just about to find out that Ned had mixed up the destinations.
“Sorry,” Ned apologized. But nothing could take it all back now.
Phase 1-Plan A had failed.
******
More to come! And this time, I want y’all to submit with your reviews the
next crazy ideas and the next crazy situations these sibs will find themselves
in!
Merci et au revoir!
Okay. So I was gonna do a play-by-play, but suddenly, when we were driving
home, my classmate texted me with lyrics from some song (it’s a custom---we’re
best friends) and I was like---holy crap! I know what’s going to be the last few
chapters!!! So I’m just gonna run by the sibs’ scheming (sorry, Dan! I know this
was your time to shine, but…) and go straight to the point.
Ooh-la-la!
******
CHAPTER 9
Dan was at the fine line between going into hysterics and turning completely into
an emotional wreck. All of their plans so far had gone to pieces, like a bridge
with no supports. It was enough to discourage him.
They were all so frustrated that even Natalie banged her fist on the table
without hesitation or reluctance of any kind. Worrying about antique wood
furniture was the last thing on their mind right now. No strategy could ever get
off the ground and soar. Just when they thought they’d had it, BOOM!
Devastation.
“I knew that closet thing would never work,” Ted groaned, referring to the
time they’d locked up Amy and Tristan, and Sinead and Ian in separate closets.
Sinead had stumbled in on Amy instead of Tristan, and Ian and Tristan both got
into a fight in the other closet, resulting into chaos.
“As if your ‘lost in the woods’ stuff did any better,” Paige grumbled
despondently. They had led the four off into the woods, but instead of getting lost,
Ian had called one of their servants, who immediately came running to get them.
“Well, Natalie’s love notes hardly did the effect,” Ned pointed out, before
World War III could occur between Paige and Ted. It had almost succeeded--until Ian had kindly pointed out to Sinead that it was his sister Natalie’s
handwriting, and had went on to prove false Amy’s and Tristan’s, too.
“You were the reason our very first scheme failed!” Natalie jabbed an accusing
finger in Ned’s direction.
“Can it,” Dan sighed wearily. “I’m getting a headache. It’s no use. We’ll just
have to hope it all blows over.” He stood and walked away.
The others were left to stare at each other. Ted rubbed his forehead vigorously.
“He’s right, you know,” he finally said. “It’s no use. Just hope it blows over.”
******
“Another book?”
Amy’s cheeks reddened, like they’d burst into flames. She clutched her book
tighter, determined not to look at the person speaking to her. This was best if she
wanted to keep her sanity.
“Come, now. Don’t be so defensive. I…I need to talk to you.”
“T-talk about what, I-Ian?” Amy was shaking. From nerves or fright, she didn’t
know. “Talk about your n-next e-e-evil sch-scheme?”
Ian stiffened. “You know it’s not about that.”
“T-t-then what?” Amy demanded, slamming the book closed and faced him
head-on. She quailed, but tried to hide it.
Ian’s eyes were steadily looking back at her. His worry was indiscernible
beneath his determination, but it was there. “I-I---”
“Ian!” Sinead suddenly ran to him. She couldn’t lose. Lose to Amy? No! It was a
good thing she had followed Ian. She threw her arms around him and took
advantage of his frozen form to kiss him on the lips.
Watching this scene, Amy felt her own heart shrivel up and burn into ashes. He
was just here…here to tell her to give up. That he liked---loved---someone else.
Why had she been such a fool? Such an idiot? Had it been that obvious? Angry at
herself, Amy forgot to stutter. “Sinead is your girlfriend? Why would I want to
know? If you thought I’ve been falling for you and your charm, Ian, you’re
obviously delirious.” She tried to prevent the tears gathering in her eyes, tried to
keep herself from giving away her true feelings. She stood rapidly, gave them an
ice-cold look, and stared Sinead down. “Oh, and good luck,” she said, sarcasm
dripping from her tone.
She couldn’t hold in the frustration, disappointment, and hurt any longer.
Without a word, she pushed past them and ran. Away from everything. Away
from unrequited love. Away from the pain, sadness, and melancholy. And she
allowed herself to cry silently, blurring her vision. She fell down once, but she
hardly felt it when her knee scraped the cement. She just pushed on.
Ian broke away from Sinead forcefully, pushing her to the ground and ignoring
her yelp. “Amy!” he cried, and ran after her. But she was gone, out of sight, out
of his life.
Forever.
Hate me if you want. ‘ Cause I hate myself, too. WAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!
CHAPTER 10
Tristan felt himself falling, and he didn’t know why. He had just been taking a
walk along one of the Kabra estate’s gardens, when WHAM! He was suddenly
outbalanced.
He managed to dig in his heels and steady himself before he could hit his head on
the pebbled walkway. Those stones could pierce his head in a second, and he
wasn’t ready for that to happen. After a moment, he realized that it was a person
who had crashed into him, travelling at breakneck speed. By some unknown
reason, he/she was shaking. A person with long, reddish-brown hair held back by
a black headband…
“Amy!” he gasped in sudden realization. He tightened his hold on her. “What’s
wrong?” She was shaking harder than a house caught up in an earthquake,
shuddering violently that it shook him, too.
She didn’t answer, didn’t seem to care, but she tried to control her shudder. She
was crying so hard that she couldn’t breathe. But what did breathing matter now?
When all sense and reason for living was gone? When her hopes had vanished and
fled? It was just…too much.
“Amy?” Hesitantly, Tristan held her chin up so he could see it better. She didn’t
put up a fight, suddenly feeling weak and limp and exhausted. Her eyes were open,
but they seemed to have spaced out, seemed not to look at anything in particular.
The tears just flowed, seamlessly, like a pair of waterfalls that only poured, never
stopped. And her eyes themselves were like broken shards of glass, beautiful and
terrifying and miserable at the same time. It pierced through Tristan’s heart. Amy
had always been a silent mourner, never made a noise, never screamed, never
wailed. She only felt. The magnitude of her sorrow was so great, a few tears
dropped from his eyes, unchecked. “Please, tell me. I want to help.”
Amy scarcely heard him. Everything was checks and parallels, nothing to make
sense of. Nothing she could gain. His words were so far away, like a remnant of
some long-forgotten dream. With immeasurable slowness, she brought her hand
up, took a great shuddering breath, and wiped away her tears. He wasn’t worth it.
But that thought only made her want to cry more. If he wasn’t worth it, why was
she so miserable? “I-it’s n-n-nothing,” she managed, then forced a smile, which
looked more like a grimace.
“It’s not nothing.” Did she think she could fool him so easily? They knew each
other so well, they could easily predict what the other would do next. And if the
aura surrounding her was anything to go by, something was very, very wrong.
“You know you can trust me.”
Amy was pretty calm by now. “Forget it,” she deadpanned, an icy edge creeping
into her voice. When she looked up, she could see hurt flicker in Tristan’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “It’s just…” her voice trailed off.
Tristan collected himself. “No, it’s okay,” he soothed her. Her parents and Grace
were dead, and her brother was younger than her. A pang shot through him when
he realized that Amy had no one. No one at all. She had had to be her brother’s
protector, care for him, and hadn’t even given a single thought about herself. She
didn’t have anyone looking after her. In all her kindness, Amy had not begrudged
anyone their happiness, but to her, happiness was like an impossible dream.
He swept her back in his arms and hugged her (A/N: Gross!). For once in her life,
he would be that someone who would protect her.
******
Ian placed a hand against a wood frame trellis supporting some vines and colorful
flowers. He was out of breath and dizzy. He’d never run this fast before. And the
fact that he hadn’t seen Amy anywhere made him want to give up.
It was all too much to take in at once. Sinead’s vile, forced kiss, Amy running
away and her words, dripping with sarcasm…“Sinead is your girlfriend? Why
would I want to know? If you thought I’ve been falling for you and your charm,
Ian, you’re obviously delirious.” Her blank, expressionless face, betrayed only by
the anger in her eyes and tone…“Oh, and good luck.”
“Oh, and good luck.”
His world came crashing down on those four words, filled with naked fury that
the kiss had awakened in Amy. He had no doubt now that she loved him. But it
was a chasm no one could bridge, an endless oblivion no one could illuminate.
And it was killing him. He had never felt this helpless before. Never. He was used
to being in charge, in command, unaffected. But this time, he was as useless as a
stick.
A sob.
A single sob was all it took to lift his head and stare at the scene up ahead. A
single sob that undid him for eternity.
A sob that came from Amy’s lips within the arms of a person Ian would hate all
his life.
Tristan O’Shea had just made a fatal mistake.
******
I love drama! It’s so dramatic! (This is not an original thought. But I don’t
remember where I heard it, so I can’t give credit.)
Anyway, the final chapter is nearing, and the last few updates might be filled
with angst. AND cliffhangers!!!
Five reviews until next! (Which I hope gives me time to check out Shugo Chara
episodes, manga, and fanfictions, as well as update my profiles on Friendster and
MySpace, not to mention my French and guitar lessons in between.)
Au revoir!
CHAPTER 11
Amy was barely aware of her best friend’s arms around her, and her face staining
his green shirt with salt water. It was…a relief to finally express herself, cry
herself out, to feel that someone understood and tolerated her pain, even though
not knowing why. It could’ve been anyone for all she cared. Well…maybe not
literally anyone, like, Mr. Holt.
Her jagged, almost hysterical thoughts were interrupted rudely. Not that she
cared. It was beyond her.
“Get your hands off her!” Ian snarled furiously, coming from nowhere, and
Tristan was so shocked, he actually dropped his protective hold round Amy. She
raised her head, red-rimmed eyes suddenly dry, droplets clinging to her lashes.
He was the last person she wanted to see, but…his presence and tone both
surprised and confused her.
Tristan collected himself, his shocked expression giving way to anger. “What
gives you the right to order me around?” he demanded. “It’s not as if you own
her!” He clenched his hands into fists, and this movement scared Amy, that she
stepped away from the line of fire between Ian and Tristan.
“You don’t either.” Ian’s voice was surprisingly soft---and terribly dangerous.
His usually smirking amber eyes seemed to have gone red, such was the blazing
fire that raged within.
Amy cowered against a carved bench, her frightened eyes watching the two as
they stared at each other, their mouths set in grim lines, like they were drawn
with red crayon. She didn’t know what to do. Scream for help? Jump in between
them?
Neither seemed like a good option.
“So it’s going to be that way, huh?” Tristan broke the silence, his words like a
knife whistling through the air, and the way he cracked his knuckles was an
ominous sign.
Ian merely looked relaxed, raising an eyebrow contemptuously. He grinned and
breathed out one word. “Coward.”
Tristan’s face turned a shade of deepest, darkest red, and leaped onto Ian,
knocking him to the ground. Ian rolled him off, kicking him in the stomach, and
used the chance to stand up.
Amy’s mouth fell open in horror. No! This…this couldn’t be happening. They
were going to kill each other. Why wasn’t she doing anything to stop it?!?!
“S-s-stop it!” she stuttered, the effect toning down her shriek. She trembled as
Tristan threw Ian to the ground. “Stop i-i-it!”
They didn’t listen. As she watched in terror, Ian dodged a blow from Tristan,
and delivered one in return. This infuriated Tristan and he kicked Ian in the
shins. Ian winced, but the expression was so fleeting that his rival missed it
entirely.
Sinead burst in on the scene, panting, eyes searching for the boy who’d pushed
her to the ground and left. Then her eyes widened when she spotted him and that
dorky girl’s best friend fighting. Her eyes slid over to Amy standing stock-still,
mouth open. It was evident she’d been crying, which for a moment replaced
Sinead’s consternation with triumph at the thought that she’d made her give up.
Then it all came back to her, and she dashed to a spot beside Amy.
“Why are you standing there like a limp rat?” Sinead snapped, and Amy’s head
turned toward her. “Do something!”
Her words brought a second wave of fury to run through Amy’s veins. “You ththink I haven’t tried?” she shot back, slipping only once. “If you’re that selfrighteous, why don’t you do it?!”
“Fine,” Sinead huffed with undisguised impatience. Then, her tone angry and
not even the least bit concerned, she shouted, “HEEEELLLLPPP!!! There’s a mass
murder over here!”
“Mass murder?!” Amy uttered in shock. “Mass murder?! Are you that stupid?”
“Well, Little Miss I-Know-It-All Bookworm isn’t doing anything!” Sinead hissed
viciously.
Before Amy could protest, Sinead’s brothers, Ned and Ted, came running in
response to her nasal call. Surprisingly, Natalie was running behind them. Dan
and Paige followed. They all screeched to a stop as they saw Ian and Tristan both
rolling back and forth on the ground. Sinead stuck her tongue out at Amy, whose
eyes narrowed.
“Ian! Stop this at this instant!” Natalie commanded, arms crossed. “I’ll tell Mom
and Dad!”
“Dumb tattletale,” Ian retorted as he ducked Tristan’s flailing fists. Natalie
gasped in shock.
Amy recovered herself. “Ned and, um, T-ted hold them a-a-apart! I don’t ccare who restrains whom! Just d-do it!” she ordered, pointing at the intense and
focused brawlers. Ned and Ted nodded, grinning in excitement like a pair of
Cheshire cats. They leaped forward, synchronized. With some effort, Ned was
soon restraining Tristan, holding his hands behind his back, while Ted did the
same to Ian. They both bared their teeth at their captors like bulldogs. Arnold, the
Holts’ pit bull, looked cuter in comparison.
“Let go of me!” Ian struggled against Ted’s hold, who winced, but stood his
ground.
“Who do you think you are?” Tristan spat at Ned. He floundered helplessly.
Tristan was a soccer captain, not a fighter.
All of a sudden, Amy couldn’t take it any longer. Her burden suddenly weighed
another ton, and she couldn’t see anything. “Stop it,” she pleaded hopelessly,
sadly, miserably. “Stop it.” Her vision blurred with tears like a river breaking out
from the dam, and ashamed, she turned and fled.
Dan took one last glance at Ian’s and Tristan’s contrite faces, then ran after her.
She was always there for him. This time, he would be there for her.
******
In case you can’t tell, I suck at fight scenes. Sorry.
Oh well. Eight reviews till next?
=)
CHAPTER 12
Ian’s eyes remained impassive as his eleven-year-old whiner of a sister accused
him of calling her names in front of the judges…
…otherwise known as his parents, back from a trip to Thailand, no doubt
involved in the preparations for yet another secret mission. This time, it wasn’t so
secret anymore. Ian barely cared. His branch would succeed again anyway, even
if it was temperamental Alana Flores on the loose. She was efficient. Her only
flaw was her fiery hell of a temper.
“Qu’est-ce q’y c’est passé, Ian?” his mother, Isobel Kabra, asked in French
sternly. Ian didn’t look at her like he usually did.
“He’s in love with a girl named Amy Cahill,” Natalie butted in, but her voice
was quiet. When Ian’s head turned toward her, she was looking at the ground,
face troubled.
“The orphan girl and her dimwit American brother?” Vikram Kabra rubbed his
jaw thoughtfully, while his wife’s eyebrows shot up. The atmosphere was
unusually tense. “The very ones I have commanded you to exterminate, time and
time again, yet you failed? The ones who tricked you and sent you off to a
fictional place called Lake Tash? Ian, is this true?” His eyes, identical to Ian’s,
probed.
Ian did not answer. He stared off coolly into space, like he was meditating.
Vikram’s eyes did not leave his son. “Go out, Isobel and Natalie. I need to talk to
him alone. This is something we, as father and son, should talk about.”
“Vikram?” Isobel looked up at her husband, but he seemed to be far away.
With a sigh, she ushered Natalie out and closed the carved oak doors behind
them.
The moment that they were all alone, Vikram leaned back in his seat and
watched his son. Although it looked quite dead, flickers of emotions danced in his
eyes, betraying how Ian really felt.
Vikram was a man who believed that brusqueness and directness were the only
ways to get what you wanted. But this time, the role of being dictator and leader
was not applicable nor advisable in this situation. This was the time he had to
become who he really was and should be to Ian: an advisor, a friend, a father.
“You’re confused,” he stated without precedent, and Ian started, his gaze
lingering on his father for half a second. Realizing his error, he quickly looked
away.
“It’s alright to confide in me, you know that, Ian,” the elder Kabra coaxed in a
soothing tone. Ian, he could see, was nervous, and he had a theory about
that…But the child must answer his queries if it was to be proved.
“There is nothing to confide.” Ian spoke as if he was uttering the same spiel,
over and over. Monotony filled his voice. His gaze fixed on an original
Rembrandt.
Vikram raised an eyebrow. In all ways, he looked like Ian, though gray
peppered his hair, and a few wrinkles had invaded his face. He was taller, his
build powerful, and it was like a vision of the future Ian. “Stubborn as ever, son?
It is an admirable quality, no matter what others may say, but please…do not
turn the tables on your own flesh and blood.”
The word ‘please’ jolted Ian into a confession, before he could fully
comprehend what was going on. “It’s just...there’s something about that girl that
catches my eye…and…I don’t think it’s right for that to happen. I mean, there
are better girls out there. Why her? Why now?” He put his head in his hands, as
if to shut out voices erupting in an ear-splitting cacophony. “It makes me
feel…confused and unsure. You know me, Papa. You know who I am---or who I
used to be. And this…this is not me.”
Vikram could see the conflict that raged within the child. He didn’t want to let
anyone down, not his branch, not his family, not…himself. Ian was only 14, but
he had more dreams, more goals, more aims than Vikram had ever had at that
age. It made him feel…proud, that his son had turned out so well. But it worked
against him, too. Ian was so used to who he was, his way in life, his direction,
that a fork in the horizon instantly made him doubt in his abilities. Sometimes, he
had to let himself go, to let his character change and grow…for it to break open
in order to give room for any new possibilities, in order for him to become
wholly and truly his own person. In truth, Ian was a shadow of his father. For
him to become who he was and fulfill his own wishes, he would have to embrace
his true self, flaws and all. Vikram knew he did. If he hadn’t learned to open his
heart, he would have lost his wife. Once, long ago, he had faced the very same
trouble, the very same obstacle. But once he had overcome it, it paved the way for
him to further his life. The only thing now was to help Ian know that.
“Ian,” he said quietly. “There is no right or wrong in whatever path we choose.
There is no concrete evidence as to who we really are. There is only ourselves,
forever changing, unstable, yes, but it is part of who we are, for us to become
better persons. Only you know what your heart whispers, what it yearns for. And
only you can decide.”
Ian raised his head and looked at him, his eyes hesitant, reluctant. His heart
told him what he wanted…but his mind…his mind was supposed to say what he
needed. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it all. What was his choice? His heart?
His mind? Rationality or irrationality? Break loose or be chained? “But, Papa…”
“Son, fear is holding you back. Everything is obstructing your path. Think of
this as if you are choosing the best shovel in order to dig yourself out. I cannot
believe I am saying this, but…” he smiled wryly. “Listen to your heart. I am not
as cynical as I seem. I know how it is to love. To be hurt. Be confused. Be
troubled. To struggle. To fight with myself. How I tried to unite the cores of my
being, made them fit, until I found out that their irregularity is what makes them
special. I see too much of myself in you. Mark my words, I am satisfied with the
man you have become. But this time you have to be the man you really are.”
Ian stared at his father. Was he…really telling him to accept those feelings?
Giving him his blessing? Not reprimanding him or telling him to turn around
and go the other way? That the…love…he felt for Amy Cahill was right? Or was
this just some fanciful hallucination? Suddenly, he was afraid it was. Because it
had given him a taste of what he so badly wanted to have, and to take it away
would be cruel, leave him broken. “Papa, I…are you joking?”
“No.” Vikram looked amused. “I am not. You may go now. I believe you have
some…unfinished business.”
Ian felt as if he was about to whoop in joy and jump up and down but he
restrained himself. “Thank you, Papa,” he said gratefully, the gratitude itself
heartfelt. He stood.
“Oh, and Ian.” Vikram twiddled his thumbs together. When he met Ian’s
questioning glance, his eyes twinkled mischievously. “Get the girl. At least, your
mother’s fury would be easier to bear if you do. Besides, we Kabras never lose,
eh?”
Ian thought he was joking, as if he were crazy. Did his father once become a
lunatic in a mental asylum? But he cleared his throat. “O-of course.”
Vikram waved him on. Ian paused for a second as if to steel himself, then went
on his way in his strong, unmistakable stride. He pushed open the doors, and
they swung shut without him having to turn around. His father kept his eyes on
his back until he was gone. And then he looked out at the pink bleeding through
the yellow-orange sky, streaking the whites and blues with color.
“Ah, young love,” he murmured, and smiled, appreciating the sunset.
******
Whew. Another chappie done. Five reviews more, please! You’ll make a tired and
aching and I-have-writer’s-cramp author very, very, happy!
See ya!
CHAPTER 13
For others, silences were awkward, never-ending, a curse. Silences were bad
omens…in a way. But to Amy, silence retained its truest form. Silence to her
meant peace, nature singing the most ethereal song, music so heavenly that
soothed any struggling soul. And right now, not even books could comfort her.
She needed to think…to face the very things she’d been running away from…no,
hiding from.
But that didn’t mean a book wasn’t nearby. Because Amy was sitting right now
in one of the plush, winged armchairs scattered all over the mansion’s library.
Shelves and shelves, tottering with volumes stacked by category, then
alphabetical order, leaned against oak-paneled walls and stood near oval
mahogany tables, or the occasional groups of armchairs around a clear glass
center table. The marble floor was carpeted with exotic embroidered carpets
made with the finest fabrics. Exquisite flower arrangements graced the area. Real
diamond-and-gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, illuminating the place
when darkness swooped in and not even the windows could reflect back the rays
of sunlight anymore. Full length floor-to-ceiling mullioned windows offered a
view of the amazing sunset, colors painting the usually empty sky, making it a
happier place. Amy hoped that it made her parents happy, too, seeing the magic
that sunsets always brought. She remembered clambering on her mother’s lap as
they sat on the grassy lawn, pointing at the sky with joy. It was something they
shared. After, they would usually try to paint it. Mom’s was always a beautiful
replica, but Amy’s was only a few streaks of various colors. To her, it didn’t
matter. Because she always kept those sunsets in her heart.
Those memories didn’t make her cry. They only brought a wave of nostalgia,
surging through her with power…but in a way, they made her hopeful, too.
Hopeful that even if a person disguises himself, the beauty within stays forever.
Always.
“Here you are…as always,” Tristan cheerfully announced, and walked over,
twirling a soccer ball with his finger. There was something…off about him. He
seemed nervous and wary.
“Hey, Tristan,” Amy wearily replied, remembering the brawl he’d had with Ian
a while ago. “No bruises so far? You shouldn’t have done that, you know.” But he
did, anyway. Tristan loved any excuse to have a fight.
He sat down on the floor in front of her, setting the ball on his lap. He looked
flustered, and she could see remnants of a blush fading away from his cheeks.
What….?
“Amy?” He looked up. “Is your Aunt Beatrice still against boyfriends?” He
grinned at her, and Amy had a flashback of when she’d been forced to break up
with him because of her eccentric aunt.
She laughed softly. “Does it matter? She disowned us, you know.” A suspicion
nagged at her mind but she pushed it away. “Why?”
“Nothing. It’s just…” He suddenly looked like a tomato. “It’s just…”
“It’s just…?” Amy prompted. Tristan was uneasy. How could he tell her, now of
all times that he---he loved her? How? Sure, they’d shared something in the past,
but…the past was the past. She could’ve easily fallen for that Kabra guy. He had
been his greatest enemy so far. Actually, his only enemy. But that cunning Lucian
was still deadly---in whatever game.
“It’s just…” He closed his eyes, afraid of her reaction. “It’s just…IT’S JUST
THAT I LOVE YOU, AMY!!!!!!!” His ears were pricked for her answer, though
they quavered.
Amy froze. Love…? Her? But…it wasn’t new, was it? They had shared
something…before. But now? She wasn’t so sure. Did she love him back? Could
she love him back?
“Tristan, I…” She clenched her hands and stared at the veins bulging from the
pressure and strain. “I…I don’t think I return that…that feeling. Long ago,
maybe. Now…not anymore. I’m…sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He glanced back up, and tried to smile to reassure her that it really
was alright, though his heart dropped like a stone. Tristan stood back up, letting
the ball fall and bounce mutedly on the carpeted floor. And then, in a movement
so fast that Amy didn’t see it coming, he kissed her.
Kissed her. Kissed her.
“G-g-got to go.” His legs shaking, Tristan stooped to pick up the ball, and ran,
avoiding Amy’s disbelieving gaze.
Amy watched him go, touching her lips. It felt…wrong. It was as if it was a fire
blazing, but she still repeatedly doused it with water. She felt so confused and
scared. Was her answer the wrong one?
She looked out the windows. The night sky was dusted with glitter, twinkling
little stars that blinked with radiance.
“Mom…” she whispered. “Mom…what is the right choice?”
******
Ehhhh…..finally. Done! Btw, about Ian’s father…that was just wishful thinking
on my part. But I DO hope it’s true. LOL=)
Next chappie---after 3 reviews! And this might run for 16-18 chapters total by
the way.
- Troubadour12
CHAPTER 14
Ian was not someone who was easily caught unguarded. He was always alert and
ready for action. After all, he was a Lucian. He was the one supposed to do the
sneaking, the spying, the investigating.
So how come Sinead was easily able to appear out of nowhere and block his
path, just like that?!?!
“Sinead.” For once, he didn’t know what to do, which direction to take. She had
been just like an obsessive fangirl, hounding him with the impressive loyalty and
doggedness of a beloved Labrador. Except Sinead was not beloved, and she
certainly wasn’t a Labrador, not even a dog.
“Ian,” she exclaimed, but there was a sternness in her tone. Without warning,
she stepped forward, and slipped her arms around his waist. Ian tried to step
back, but in vain. The girl was not letting him go that easily. “You’ve been very,
very naughty lately.”
“You’re hardly one to talk,” he murmured under his breath. If it wasn’t for her
disgusting intervention, he would have had Amy and would not have had to go
through all this trouble.
She frowned up at him, as if she was innocent and had done nothing wrong.
Damn. What was with women, playing up their vulnerability? Except for Amy, of
course…she never used it to her advantage. “What do you mean, babe? I didn’t
do anything.” Her frowning eyes turned to puppy-dog ones.
Ian gritted his teeth and pushed her away. Dazed, she leaned against the wall.
“Don’t you call me ‘babe’, Sinead,” he snarled. “I hardly know you, I don’t even
like you, and you act as if you’re my girlfriend?! Back off! And stop acting as if
I’m the one who’s in the wrong!”
Sinead gasped, feeling a rip in her heart. As if it was tearing up. Tears sprang
forth, unsuppressed, and spilled down her cheeks. How…how could he do this to
her? “Because you are!” she shrieked, letting loose all her frustration and
brokenheartedness. “Why? Why can’t you see that I love you? What do you see
in that Amy freak, the Cahill stain? Why do you always push me away?” She
began to sob, shuddering uncomfortably.
Ian’s face hardened. “Because I. DON’T. LOVE. YOU.” He emphasized each
word, filled them with as much hate as possible. “Now leave.”
Sinead glared at him, her face streaked with tears. Her hand leapt forward, and
she-----she slapped him. Ian’s face smarted, reddening in reaction. But he just stared
her down fiercely. “Got what you wanted?” he hissed viciously. He knew he
shouldn’t act like this, and might not have had, if Sinead hadn’t pushed him to
the end of his tether. “Doesn’t change anything.”
She stared at him, feeling her heart sink, then turned and ran away, her
footsteps like a funeral dirge.
Ian clenched his fists. He had finally overcome most of his obstacles.
But his worst obstacle…was Amy herself.
A/N:
3 reviews people=)
…too tired to say anything more…
CHAPTER 15
Was every day like this for an ordinary person with an ordinary life? Did normal
human beings go around like this, attending a grandmother’s will reading only to
be entered in some crazy, winner-take-all contest, go against ruthless cousins,
face a lot of enemies, break into strongholds, and have to contend with heartwrenching love triangles---or in her case, love squares?
Of course not, Amy thought. I just really happen to attract all these troubles to
me. She sighed, thrusting her hands into the pocket of her jeans, trying to get
over the fact that she hurt her best friend, probably even some hidden part of
her, too. But now she knew. She and Tristan could never be more than just
friends---not anymore. All her feelings for him had been stamped out long ago,
forgotten, though she tried to hold on to them. Like paper consumed by raging
flames they soon became ashes scattered all over.
The night was unseasonably cold. A rush of wind blew, rustling leaves and
shaking trees, threatening to pull out flowers from the fertile soil. It was
dangerous, seeming to hint at a particularly powerful storm, gathering strength.
Kind of reminded her of Madrigals.
But what did she know about Madrigals? Nothing but the fact that they were a
clan that even the cruel Lucians feared and shied away from. A clan who seemed
hell-bent on secrecy and gaining the clues solely for themselves. She shuddered.
Would they have to face them someday? Deep inside, she didn’t want to know.
Perhaps it was better if they were caught by surprise, rather than be aware and
wait in anxiety all their lives.
Amy was not aware of someone following her. So absorbed was she in her
thoughts, she didn’t hear the light thump of an approaching footstep. But Ian
was. Ian was aware of the way she walked down the path, without any regard or
importance given to her surroundings, clearly overlooking the fact that it was
easy to get lost around here. He tried to breathe, tried to keep his wits around
him. Nothing else in the world could have ever had such a frightening prospect.
He could handle raids, private missions, holding a gun and aiming at the
enemy. Blackmailing, negotiating….wasn’t that even his specialty? But all those
had been done in utmost secrecy and a lot of strategic planning. When he came
down to it, this was a spur of the moment, rashly thought out.
He couldn’t think of a proper opening. What should he say-“Hey, Amy, I love
you?” That wouldn’t work. She’d just look at him as if he was some kind of
otherworldly being. And then yell at him in her cute, endearing, stutter. It was a
little obstacle, but it made her who she really was.
He said the only thing that made sense, was short, and would cause him less
embarrassment. “Turn around, Amy.”
The girl stiffened. Was it because of surprise, hatred, or something other, he
wondered. Would she even turn around? Her actions were hesitant, indecisive,
charmed but resisting, afraid to trust but intoxicated by the possibilities.
Amy clenched her hands. Was she ready for this? Ready for him? Ready to talk
and see his absurdly perfect face like nothing had happened? Ready for her
heart…to be broken some more? Trying to conceal her nervousness and fright,
she turned around. “W-what do you w-want, I-Ian?”
He smiled easily at her. Amy didn’t know, couldn’t see, couldn’t feel, but he was
just as nervous and frightened as she was. “I never really did say what I wanted
to say before. Will you take a walk with me so we can talk?” He offered his hand,
which took all his will power not to tremble and shake.
She stubbornly refused his hand. “We can t-t-talk here f-fine,” she replied.
Amy didn’t know what he was planning to do next, but she’d really rather stay
put then go places with him and be led to a trap.
Ian shifted his weight to his other leg. This wasn’t the time to show cowardice.
His smile melted, and a serious look replaced it. “There’s something I have to ask
you, Amy,” he told her.
Amy waited. “What is it, th-then?” She was digging in her fingernails and it
hurt a little on her palm.
Courage, Ian. He remembered what his father said: Listen to your heart. There
is no right or wrong in whatever path you choose…. “Amy, did you ever receive
my letter?” He looked at her intently. Shock was evident in those beautiful,
expressive green eyes of hers. “And the necklace that came with it?” he prodded.
Amy stared into his eyes, hypnotized. “L-l-letter? N-necklace?” As soon as she
said the words, she snapped back to earth. That letter and necklace! They were in
her bag, hidden, because she hadn’t wanted Dan and Nellie to know. Still she
knew Dan suspected. “W-what about it?” It reminded her of what the letter
contained. What made her so shy and vulnerable near him. What made her
afraid to take a step closer.
Ironically, he took a step forward, leaning down at her. Suddenly, she was
aware of their closeness. If she reached out, she could touch his hand, his face.
But she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Their faces were inches apart and she couldn’t
breathe.
Ian gently raised her chin with the tips of his fingers. “I meant every word I
said.” His sweet breath wafted over to her. “I love you.”
Amy’s eyes widened. He…loved her? Then why did he ignore her? Why did he
kiss Sinead? Why was he always with that mean, auburn-haired girl? More
importantly, why would he choose Amy over Sinead?! He was lying. He had to be
lying. He was just trying to confuse her, to use her, just like he did back in Korea.
Wrapping her around his little finger, yanking her inside out. She took a step
back, shaking her head vehemently, in denial.
“Liar,” she breathed, as Ian let his hand fall in shock. “Liar!” she screamed, the
tears truly coming fast now, as all the hurt and grief and pain of long ago
crashed in on her. Reminders of her heartbreak echoed in the night air. And it
cut through her.
She fled. Ian could do nothing to stop her.
It began to rain as Amy stopped to rest, panting with exhaustion. She looked
up. The clouds were dark and gloomy, and raindrops came down on her, fast.
Mixing with her tears. Making them one.
I walk in the rain so no one can see me cry.
******
The drama does not end yet. I have a better ending in mind! LOLz. The ransom
this time is…10 reviews!!!!!!!!!
MWAHAHAHA!!! *coughs* ow….sore……throat……
CHAPTER 16
Ian’s POV
I don’t know how I could ever get her to forgive me. How could I erase all those
painful memories of the past? How could I make her understand? How could
have I ever betrayed her like that?
As I watched her go, run away from me like I was a vile creature, I felt as
though I’d been stabbed a hundred times in my heart. Nothing but Amy’s
rejection of the truth could have ever brought me to my knees, hysterically
begging for forgiveness in the deep bowels of the dark, lost without a candle in a
storm. Her eyes, those soulful eyes, like purest jade, filled with so much hurt that
I could feel it rushing with the wind…a force simply too strong to be ignored.
The tears cascading down her cheeks that wiped out the blazing fires and
plunged us both into melancholy and endless chasms...it was simply too much to
bear. Even if I wanted to move, to come after her, I couldn’t. Because I had hurt
her so much that hurting her anymore would kill me.
And by just seeing my face, I hurt her. Cut her. Razed through her like some
wild forest fire. I didn’t want that…never wanted it at all.
For once, I didn’t care that dirt clung my clothes. A little physical stain was
nothing compared to my blackened soul. It was so black that I always managed to
make the girl I loved cry…be dejected…be afraid…afraid to trust in me, no, not
anymore. Would I be able to break away from all of this? Break away from this
ruthlessness and cruelty ingrained in me…be able to make someone else happy at
last? All I ever seemed to do was go against them all. Make them unhappy. And I
was tired of that.
The wind howled, the only sounds in the night…aside from Amy’s accusations
reverberating in my ears, my mind, my heart…
I stood up. Contemplating the misery of it all was not helping. I had to go find
her. The estate was a large one, and the terrain was sure to confuse her. She
could lose her way, be ambushed…
That thought sent a burst of determination flowing through my body and got
me moving. My eyes scanned the gloomy, ominous skies. Skies with wispy vapors
as if smoke moved through it.
Skies that rained down water droplets in my shell-shocked face.
“Damn!” I let loose a stream of curses, my pace quickening. Not only was she
lost, she was caught out on a goddamned storm, too! Amy was quite delicate, and
she could easily panic, just as easily fade into unconsciousness. Soil turned to
runny water, dirt transformed to mud. I plowed on, eyes frantically searching for
her, a face and body I’ve memorized so perfectly, that went through my mind a
thousand times like an incorrigible tape recording.
I was worrying so hard that I almost missed the faint outline lying on the grass
interspersed with mud.
“Amy!” I cried, and ran over to her. I stopped short when I saw that she had
fainted, her eyes closed, mouth slightly open, her hair like a stream of copper
fanning out around her. She was turned a little sideways. Her hands were
trembling.
I dropped to my knees beside her, and swept away a lock of hair away from her
expressionless face. She looked weak, perhaps having stayed out in the rain for
hours. I was lucky enough to have been wearing my jacket.
But she wasn’t.
Swiftly, I took it off, not minding the drops that pelted me with fervor and
intensity. She needed it more than I. Working quickly with silent precision I had
gained from my training, I put it on her, careful not to wake her up, alert her to
my presence. After pulling the hood over her head, I placed my arms beneath her
body.
She was surprisingly light. Or maybe it only felt that way to me. I carried her
with as much tenderness as I could, princess-style. My princess…
She was shivering. Her eyelids fluttered. Her hand twitched, seeming to grope
for something, her cheeks flushed red. It stopped when it touched my shoulder.
“Ian…” she whispered desperately and I felt a tingle creep up my back. “Ian,
don’t leave me…” Her words floated with the wind.
A smile spread through my lips. Without thinking about it, I bent my head
down and kissed her head. “Silly girl. I won’t.”
Was it some trick of my mind, or did she really smile? She faded back to steady,
albeit restless, slumber.
I walked on ever faster. Bring her back to safety. Bring her back to peace.
Tomorrow will be a new day.
******
Whew….another chapter done. Will the next one be the last…or will there be
another surprise?
Find out after 15 reviews!
Oh, and people…which do you think is the best love song?
A.)You Found Me by Kelly Clarkson B.)Thinking Of You by Katy Perry
C.)Tonight by FM Static D.)Crush by David Archuleta
A review won’t be a review until you include your vote!
Speaking of reviews…please do not comment just for the sake of fulfilling the
quota. I doubt things like “Bloh Bloh” can qualify as a review. ^^
Till next!
CHAPTER 17
Amy’s POV
My world was dark. It had always been like endless oblivion to me. Day and
night, I kept on living. But back then, seven years ago, when my parents died in
that house fire, I’d felt that I had died along with them.
I kept up a façade. Built a wall around myself, that no one could ever, ever
scale. I hid behind books. Books were my friends, because they gave life to magic
and happiness I know I’ll never experience. They made me forget. Helped me
pretend. They were my guards from the crushing reality that was like a sword to
my side.
And yet, I couldn’t bear to lie and act around my little brother. I couldn’t bear
to rob him of knowing who his sister was. So the only time I became the real me
was around him…and Grace.
Dan. My little brother. Though he acted cool and nonchalant about the way his
life was going, how he had never met his parents, how Grace was gone, too, I
know it pierced him inside. I know he cried at nights. I know he hid it from me. I
know he held on to every word I said concerning them. I know he mourned. I
know…that we were completely alone.
Through tunnels of darkness, I stumbled and groped, stuttered and mumbled,
slipped and tripped. I didn’t show how afraid and lost I was to Dan. Oh, he knew
I was shy most of the time. How insecure and lacking in confidence I could be.
But what he didn’t know was how I struggled to be myself and be strong in front
of him.
It was hard. A million times more difficult than this quest. But I pressed on,
knowing the day I succumbed and died would be the day Dan would fall and lay
broken, too. And so, I simply had to push myself more.
Flashes of light---a supernova in the blanket of the unseen. Images, time,
places, events…simply put, memories…
My fifth birthday…Mom had arranged for a treasure hunt…From my bedroom
to the garden…Up our treehouse…Dan’s room…then run, run, run to the
library…a pile of books and a bike!...and back in the house, a surprise party…
Jolted awake by scream and yells, the smell of smoke…Was there a barbecue?
Orange-red light….Flames….spreading through the whole place… “Mom!”
“Dad!” No answer…A man with an orange hard hat scooped me up, his face
shadowed, perspiring…I see Dan, waving his little body and wailing, in another
of those men’s hands…
The funeral…no more Mom…no more Dad…Aunt Beatrice, frowning at us
angrily, her mouth a thin line…What is this? Grace, telling us that we’ll live with
her…An argument, dragging on for days…
Years flash by without importance…dull school…only weekend trips to Grace
hold any interest or joy to me…playing with Dan…watching as he grew
up….realizing his parents are dead….OUR parents were dead…Cruel Aunt
Beatrice…
The hunt, the quest…Grace’s funeral….No time to cry, shed tears…A hundred
traps…Hundreds of confusing twists and turns…Hundreds of unsure
moments…Loneliness….Exhaustion…Fear…Ian Kabra’s face ingrained in my
mind’s eye…Dust blowing everywhere…My lips, tingling from that slight
contact…Then afterwards, that dreadful betrayal…
All those feelings mixed together, like some potent brew, was enough to jolt me
awake. My eyes flew open and I sat up, realizing after a split second that I was
not in my, Dan’s, and Nellie’s room. I mean, how could I be? This place was
distinctly different, more elegant, more richly decorated. Ours was…second class
compared to this place. Though make no mistake, it had the aura of being in a
first-class hotel suite.
Polished marble floor, beautifully-done carpeting with embroidered carpets,
expensive antiques made of different types of wood, rich velvet draperies, gilt
furniture, frosted glass doors, a pair of stained ones leading to a wide balcony
decked out with outdoor chairs and tables, silk covers, artistically-done pillows,
Picassos hanging on the somehow glittering silver walls, gleaming gold
possessions, and glinting mirrors everywhere. The scent of clove and lavender
floated vaguely in the air. It was like I had stepped into another world, a place fit
for a king. Yes, king. Because if I’m not mistaken, that tailored black jacket was
definitely meant for a boy. Would that mean then, that I was in some unknown
boy’s room, carted off into the night?
The last thing I remember was running away from Ian in tears. That would
explain why my eyes ached uncomfortably. And then, I had been caught out in a
storm, while I was trying to desperately find my way back. Until everything
turned black. I didn’t know what went on beyond this point. All I know is that I
was probably kidnapped, or taken pity on by a male servant, and brought me to
his room. But would the Kabras’ servants really have this kind of room?
Unbelievable. Unreal.
My head pounded and my stomach growled. I think I’d probably missed
dinner, judging by the whole time I was asleep…at least, whoever had found me
had not made me stay in squalor…or worse, kill me. I lay back down amongst
the soft pillows and feather mattress, staring at the clothes I was wearing, which
was obviously not the red polo and jeans I’d worn before ending up here. And
neither could they ever be from my bag. I don’t think I’ve ever stuffed lavender
silk pajamas with lilies in my Jansport before. And frankly, how could I have
even gotten them?
There were just so many thoughts running through my head, that I couldn’t
make any sense of it all. It made me even dizzier, made the room tilt and reel like
a snowglobe being shaken in all possible angles and directions. I closed my eyes,
trying to stay calm, to focus.
The sound of a door clicking closed reached my ears.
Automatically, as if by instinct, I sat up, eyes open. I could see the back of a tall,
black-haired dark boy, dressed in white jeans and an immaculate white buttondown shirt, tucked in one side and loose in the other. Who was he? My captor? A
friend? Dan, who’d suddenly dyed his hair black, tanned his skin, paid for a hotel
room, and got those clothes from charity or something???
He turned around, and I recognized who he was. Surprise lit up his amber eyes,
and his lips quirked into a soft, reconciliatory smile. “Oh, good, you’re awake,”
Ian said cheerfully, going over to where I was. “I was so worried…you haven’t
woken up for two days, burning with a high fever. I brought you to my bedroom
when I saw you lying in the grounds in the middle of the storm. Your nanny and
Dan wants to sue me because I refused to move you back to your room. I
wouldn’t have wanted to disturb you like that. Don’t worry, no damage has been
done. It’s still dawn, no one’s awake yet.” He looked up at the ceiling. “Except for
me,” he added thoughtfully.
I clenched my hands tightly into fists, not minding that my nails dug into my
palm. I stared at it, so as to avoid looking at him. He hadn’t mentioned my
running away from him, his words…could it be it wasn’t true after all…?
Just like that, my heart suddenly hurt, and I gasped. What did that mean?
Worry replaced Ian’s smile. He touched a comparatively cool hand to my
forehead, and a tingle ran up my spine. “What is it, Amy?” he asked gently,
taking off his hand.
“N-n-nothing,” I managed to stammer. I seized on the first subject I could think
of, almost wildly, hysterically. “Just that…why d-d-did you bring me to y-y-your
r-room?” Thinking about it made me blush, and the temperature felt as if it had
gone up thirty degrees. Boy, was I really sweating it.
To my surprise, he jumped onto my bed---his bed, actually---kicking his shoes
off, and languidly sat beside me with his legs stretched out in front of him, hands
folded behind his head. I scooted away from him, unable to stand the close
physical contact, and the fact that I was in pajamas made me more embarrassed.
“Because I was in a panic and conveniently forgot where your room was,” he
explained, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
“C-C-Conveniently?!” I heard myself shriek-stutter, horrified that he made this
turn out to be some kind of game, and I had to play along. This guy was simply
unbelievable!
He glanced over at me and playfully chucked me under my chin. “Yes.”
Unexpectedly, the world turned somber at that on word. He looked away, staring
at a winged armchair. “Amy…” he began seriously. “I have to talk to you.”
So the time had come. It could not have been that he’d forgotten it all. He was
just biding his time…The reason why he’d brought me here was because he--including I---needed more privacy, which we wouldn’t get if I was back where I
slept with Dan and Nellie. Still, even though I knew what was going to happen
next was inevitable, I tried to delay it anyway. “Just a m-m-minute. Wh-why am
I w-wearing these?” I gestured to the clothing articles I had on.
He gazed at them for a split second longer than necessary. “Those were tailormade just for you. I had it done by one of our outstanding servants, and they
whipped it up right away.”
“B-b-but how w-would you kn-know my size?” I objected, but failing
miserably to inject the slightest hint of a protest in my voice.
He smirked at me like I was dumb, which almost made me flare up. But I shut
my mouth and listened. Besides, would I even have made sense if I couldn’t even
understand my own words because of my mumbling tendency? “She measured
you, of course. That is the way of the world.” He seemed to remember something
else. “And don’t worry. If anyone had to change or bathe you, I went out of the
room.” Saying those words however, made a slight pink tinge crawl over his
cheeks. And over mine.
“I….I….” I searched for the words, trying to find some other way I could
distract him. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Distract me all you
want,” he murmured. “I’ll patiently wait before springing you.”
“A-Alright,” I huffed. He’d seen through my ploy. “I g-give up. Sp-spring it ththen.”
He didn’t start right away. Outside, the skies were dark purple, no sign of
lightening any time soon. The air conditioner in Ian’s room hummed, churning
forth cold wisps of air. The silence between us was like a barrier, protecting me
for the time being. I rested my head on my knees, contemplating the turn of
events.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, out of the blue, eyeing my position with
visible concern. My heart leapt, then began beating faster. It meant he was ready
to talk to me now. Ready to speak his mind. Only…was I ready for this? Ready to
listen? Ready to know what all these feelings meant?
“Y-Yeah…”I replied. “What d-d-does it matter a-anyway?” I avoided his
suddenly tender gaze.
“Anything that concerns you and you matter to me,” he answered sincerely,
looking deeply into my eyes, even though I tried to look away. Undaunted, he
held my face firmly in place. And all I could see were his amber eyes, deeply
troubled, pleading, emotional. His face, flawless, and somehow etched in my
heart. This was another side to Ian I’d never seen before. A side that was
vulnerable, yet gentle, a side that could sympathize and feel.
Two sides. Two cores. Making him one. The Ian I knew…I understood.
“What is th-that s-s-supposed to m-mean?” I was looking straight into his soul,
and what I saw unnerved me. The depth of those feelings…the pleas of his
heart…the person he really was.
“You don’t understand do you?” he said sadly, a frown in his eyes. He sighed.
“You still don’t believe me. You still don’t trust me. I don’t really deserve your
trust…but still…I want it anyway.”
“…I-Ian?” This attitude and poignant melancholy cut through me, confused
me. My heart beat faster, my breathing hitched. His face seemed to be coming
closer…
And before I knew it, his lips were covering mine.
This wasn’t a mere brushing of lips, a simple contact that left a promise…It was
a real one.
And it awakened something locked away deep inside me.
He pulled away after an increasingly tense second. The temperature was now at
fifty degrees. I was sure my cheeks were aflame. His eyes were embarrassed,
begging for my forgiveness, yet somehow not contrite, as if his action was
justified.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly in his velvet voice, caressing the words. “But I
had to do it, you see.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “It was the only
chance I’d ever have. The only chance…in this lifetime and beyond. I love you,
Amy. You won’t believe me, but it’s true. I love you…enough to let you go.
Enough to let you be free. And more than enough to always be there to catch you
when you fall, save you when you need it, be a shoulder for you to cry on…even
as just a friend. Even if it hurts, I’ll take. It’s better than nothing.” He smiled at
me, a smile that seemed sad. “And seeing you smile is happiness enough.”
My heart pounded. My blood pulsed. With every second, every minute, every
hour, life flowed through me. Life moved on. Life beat against my chest. It was a
force greater than any other. But there was something else, something
new…something I’d never experienced before. A force that was equal in power
to life, if not greater. That became the path for the lost, gave structure to how life
is lived. A phenomenon not quite explained, but a phenomenon all the same. As I
looked at him, truly saw everything, the world seemed to tilt at my feet at his
words…I felt something I’d never felt before. Something that had seemed
impossible to obtain, to gain, to claim as mine in this world. Something that
brought a sun, shining brightly in my life…
And that was when I knew I’d really, truly, and not-just-platonically fallen in
love. The kind of love that pushes you off the driver’s seat even if you were
completely in control, takes you down a different road that suddenly becomes the
right one. The kind that makes completely no sense but to you it does. The kind
that’s bittersweet, forbidden yet taken, shimmering with truth and honesty and
loves you back. The kind that’s wholehearted and pure, ready to risk anything,
but doesn’t want to leave your side at the same time, yet lets you go. The kind that
would hurt if you hurt, smile if you smile, cry if you cry, feel everything you feel.
The kind that isn’t always popular, but to you it is. The kind that feels wrong, but
somehow feels right. The kind…that shows you what loving is all about, with its
ups and downs, happiness and sorrow, but with the person who you love and
loves you back by your side, ready to weather it all. The kind you can’t
completely understand, but somehow, deep inside, you do. The kind you’ll choose
above everything else…and yet give you all that you’ve lost back…
Without thinking about it, relying only on instinct, I hugged him, shocking Ian
and, a moment later, myself. I buried my suddenly burning face deep in his chest,
afraid to see what his reaction would be.
“Amy…?” he whispered, unsure what this was supposed to mean. But
something told him…He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me closer to
him. And I wasn’t scared. Not at all. Not even a tiny bit embarrassed…not
anymore.
This felt right. This was true. Real. I could feel it all, not like it was just some
intoxicating hallucination conjured by my delusional mind.
He raised my head, and I could see the glow that radiated from him. Could see
the love shining from him, rays that reached and touched me too.
“Silly girl,” he murmured, and brought my lips to his. Outside, the sun came
up, time again had called for its rebirth, coloring the dark skies pink, orange, red,
yellow…
Is this a dream?
If it is
Please don't wake me from this high
I'd become comfortably numb
Until you opened up my eyes
To what it's like
When everything's right
I can't believe
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know just where I would be?
Yeah, you broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
You found me
You found me
So, here we are
That's pretty far
When you think of where we've been
No going back
I'm fading out
All that has faded me within
You're by my side
Now everything's fine
I can't believe
You found me
When no one else was lookin'
How did you know just where I would be?
Yeah, you broke through
All of my confusion
The ups and the downs
And you still didn't leave
I guess that you saw what nobody could see
You found me
You found me
******
Whoah…two kisses in one chapter…EEEK!!!!!!
So today I bring this love story to an end…and hope that you have enjoyed the
ride…thanks for the support, the review, the critiques. I did my best to make this,
all of this, every bit perfect for all of you=) I appreciate your effort, trying to fulfill
last chapter’s quota, but you didn’t have to believe it ^^ I was merely buying
some time in order to make this perfect in every way possible. And, though I
didn’t get 15 reviews, I shall still post this as a reward, along with virtual cookies
for all of you. YAY!
I might write a sequel. But for now, I have two other stories out there: Queen Of
The World Diaries and Why. Queen of the World is Natalie’s diary and thoughts.
Why is a prequel to Bleeding Hearts.
Thank you---all of you, everyone, a million times! Stories are meant for people to
feel the magic of fantasy, and, most importantly, dreams that can come true with
enough perseverance and imagination.
I LOVE YOU ALL! And Paite-chan, I’ll forgive you for not updating THE GREAT
CAHILL RACE any time soon because you’re working.
XOXO=)
With love,
Troubadour12 a.k.a Vicah =)
A Rose’s Thorns
So here is the Bleeding Hearts sequel! Like a flash of lightning coming
down form the sky, it just hit me…but I’m glad it did. What was torture
though, was the fact that my mom banned me from my laptop on the
day I got my idea. But now I can finally tell my new story, straight
from my heart, and hope that the readers of Bleeding Hearts would like
this too!
And so I begin.
CHAPTER 1
Dan stared at his reflection in the mirror, breathing hard after his frenzied run to
this bathroom, trying to convince himself against all odds, that it was not what he
thought.
It was worse.
He slumped to the floor and leaned his head against the wall. No, it couldn’t have
been Amy…could it? But his sister…his sister would never do a thing like that! Still,
there was the glaring reality pressing in on him that she liked Ian. And her fiery,
reddish-brown hair didn’t come close to Sinead’s auburn locks.
How could I lie to myself? I wish I’d never come to that room at that time! He buried his face
in his hands as his heart sank to the tiled floor and the Great Depression overtook
him.
After all, that’s what you do when you find out your sister is having an affair with
the sworn enemy.
“Sworn enemy, my foot,” Dan muttered, standing up and beginning to pace. “He’s
just become her boyfriend! Can’t she see that he’s probably just using her? Toying
with her feelings? Arrgh1 She’s supposed to be the sensible older sister!” He ended
his last frustrated sentence with and indignant kick aimed at the door. Which
immediately scarred the varnished wood, almost indistinct, but quite noticeable
from this distance.
Dan felt as if cold water was being poured down his spine. Sure, he didn’t care
about all this expensive furniture. In fact, they suffocated him. But he really wasn’t
ready to face the wrath of those spoiled Kabra brats, especially since he might be
facing them alone…if that kiss between Ian and Amy was anything to go by.
Stop thinking that your sister might be losing her virginity while you’re obsessing over a dent!
He screamed silently to himself. And without a word, unable to withstand the
drama and trivial things of daily life, he bolted out the door, through the empty
hallway which was gradually lightening up from the sunlight that poured in from
the floor to ceiling windows, down the marble staircase, and finally out to the
garden.
And for a moment, basking in the sunshine and morning breeze, he let himself
believe that things might still remain normal.
******
Amy pulled away from Ian after a moment, resting her head on his shoulder as they
watched the sunrise, bathing the room in a dazzling halo of light, which was
already quite bright on its own, due to all the reflective substances. A few feet
away, truth to tell, was a table with a mirror top instead of glass. This brought a
humorous thought to her witty mind and she couldn’t help but say it out loud.
She looked up at his face. “Do you love yourself that much?” she teased, staring
into his eyes and pushing down the blush that colored her face. She was happy,
but at the same time scared and nervous. What if he was turning her head around,
and didn’t really mean it at all? Of course she believed him, but like Uncle Alistair
had once said, trust is something that is difficult to build and easy to break. And
after what happened in Korea, she did seem a little justified. It’s not that she didn’t
love him, or doubted that he loved her back. It was just that…Ian was loyal to his
family, his clan. If he was forced to turn against her, he might. And that was
something worse than heartbreak.
Aside from that, Amy doubted that her brother Dan, and Nellie, as well as the
Kabras and their Lucian constituents, would be overjoyed at this turnout of
events.
But if they get something for it, they’ll probably fall all over themselves to support it. She
regretted thinking that in a second and slapped herself mentally. She returned her
attention to Ian who was, interestingly enough, turning a delicate shade of red.
“What is it?” she asked, before remembering the question she asked him. Unable
to resist the urge to egg him on some more, she stuck out her tongue. “I’m right,
aren’t I?”
In response, he pressed his lips to his forehead, in a way hiding himself, but also
because he wanted to. He wrapped his hands around her tighter, but Amy wasn’t
giving up just yet. She began to pout and frown. It made her feel ridiculous. Why
was she acting this way? Like a child refused sweets? Like some crazed fangirl?
This wasn’t her! But still…
“Is that a yes?” she prodded, holding a finger to his lips.
He smiled. “It’s whatever we want it to,” he chuckled. “And I’ll admit, I’m vain. Is
that so bad?” He began to play with a strand of her hair.
Amy smiled back. It seemed that things like vanity was beyond the point. After
all she’d know it ever since. Ian had always liked to keep up an impeccable
appearance. “Not if you love me more,” she whispered, looking carefully down.
At that moment, the sun became a dominant presence, its rays reaching out to
every nook and cranny, channeling an enormous halo that surrounded everyone.
Outside, cotton-like clouds moved against the blue sky, forming shapes so
mysteriously and without any model. Even in normal things, there were miracles
taking place. Just look at bees for instance. According to aerodynamics---or was it
the law of physics?---they weren’t supposed to have the ability to fly. But still they
did, flapping their wings which supported their stubby little bodies, searching for
nectar, fighting for life, relying on their instincts.
And as the sun rose to the highest point of the sky, far out to the east, the two of
them stared at each other, words flowing with the wind, speaking to them in the
most magical way possible. Too deep for real, spoken words, too deep for anyone
to ever really understand.
A promise, dancing all around them, tying them forever, a prayer sent on the
wings of a butterfly that they would endure what was to come.
“I’ll always love you more than anything else…”
******
Is Amy too new? Too OA? Too ridiculous? If it’s not good, I’ll probably scrap
this idea…*bawls* It’s really hard to follow up a story that was really good!
If I get five positive reviews, I’ll continue…if not, this will be gone…=(
CHAPTER 2
Natalie made her way out of her bedroom, her silky long black hair cascading
down her back, held away from her face by a lavender eye mask, looking so
impossibly and refreshingly beautiful in the morning light that filtered in
through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Clad in a violet lace and satin
nightgown beneath a red, fur-trimmed robe, she made her way to the second
floor bathroom, her violet silk slippers slapping against the high-quality,
wood-inlaid floor noiselessly. She moved with regal bearing, like a queen.
After all, she was a Kabra. Born with a powerful lineage, wealthy and
fearsome ancestors---who were never losers, only winners---and a heritage
even better than the strongest person in the world, she held the earth in the
palm of her hand. All was hers for the taking, if she so ever wanted to make a
move. And this showed even when she woke up, or even when she was just
on a trip to the bathroom.
The lovely eleven-year-old turned the knob of the door and walked in, amber
eyes deceptively wide awake and open, even though she was still actually
only barely conscious, almost sleep-walking. Almost, not entirely. But a
splash of water would definitely wake her up, guaranteed. The youngest
Kabra didn’t usually obsess over things in the morning, and thus had
forgotten that she had her own bathroom in her own huge bedroom. But let
us leave it at that and let her be. After all, she is quite headstrong, full of
pride, and would probably pretend---when she is fully awake---that this
was her plan all along.
Without glancing at her surroundings, Natalie brought round the diamond tap,
readied her hands to catch the gushing water, and wet her face several times
before cutting off the supply of liquid. As she stared at herself in the mirror
and arranged her hair so that it splayed out artistically around her
shoulders, her eyes flickered to the door. Then she ripped out a piece of
tissue from a roll---one square, perfectly intact---and patted her face dry
with it, before balling it up in a crumpled heap and throwing it away. She
then faced the door, unlocked the latch, hand stretched out to open it so she
could get out of here, get away, get changed into more suitable clothes, back
in the privacy of her bedroom. But something stopped her, tugging at her
subconsciously, nagging like a fierce mama bear at the back of her mind. Her
eyes went down the length of the burnished, gleaming wood, scanning every
detailed image…
And then she saw it.
Natalie Kabra, the pint-sized assassin, with a lineage that was both respected
and feared, was actually petty enough to scream when she saw the mark
made by Dan’s shoe a while ago, earlier in the morning.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
******
Dan knew he was done for. Just a scream, and he knew it. He’d been found out.
Still…he had to keep up his clueless “what-the-hell-are-you-talking-aboutand-why-did-you-have-to-scream-about-something-like-this” cover. Which
would be easy, since that was exactly what he was feeling anyway, and that
wasn’t a lie. He began to run across the lawn, a frown on his face, dashing
through the carpeted floors, the tiled floors, the wood floors, the decorative
floors…then up, up, up the massive marble staircase to where the scream led,
which his navigational instincts and guilty conscience were divining that it
came from the second-floor bathroom, and that it was over an indentation
he had made while venting out his frustration over the ‘Ian and Amy kiss’.
As he passed hallways, people burst out through doors---Uncle Alistair,
already dressed in a happy yellow suit with matching ascot that made Dan
want to gag, not exactly running, more like hobbling briskly along, his
diamond-tipped cane tapping monotonously against the floor; Irina Spasky,
probably thinking of an invasion, tumbled out of her room, dressed all in
black, poison fingernails primed and ready, toting a gun; then the stampede
of Holts, Mr. Holt looking comical in a robe hanging loose that didn’t
conceal his bare chest and ghastly purple boxers, Mrs. Holt in a violet shirt
and a pair of lavender shorts, Hamilton in a blue sweater and indigo jogging
pants, the twin sisters in matching pink shorts and purple shorts. Seriously,
why were these people in love with the color purple and its many variations
and shades?; Jonah Wizard stomping sleepily out of his room in a white
tank top and green silk pajama bottoms with ‘Wizard’ embroidered across
the butt, his father in a green silk jersey and black pajama bottoms, taking
out his BlackBerry, moving sluggishly, with no clue on what was going on.;
Nellie Gomez, sticking her head out the door of their room, decided it
wasn’t worth her while, and slammed it closed; and finally, a panicked but
still in control Ian, looking almost ready to launch a tirade against his sister.
Amy was left inside his room, taking the opportunity to go back to sleep.
They all rushed to the crime scene, some lagging, some far ahead. Ian got there
first, and tugged at the door but it didn’t budge. Abandoning this and
signaling to the others not to try any attempt to smash the door open, he
knocked incessantly on the resounding wood. “Natalie! Open up! What the
hell’s going on over there?” He knocked, louder, his velvet voice still smooth
though it grew steadily in pitch. “Natalie!”
Suddenly, the door swung open, revealing an agitated, pretty girl, her small
physique shaking. In a show of extreme, even admirable agility, Ian jumped
back before he could fall forward. And then his sister let loose a screech that
made even the windows rattle.
“Ian!” she sputtered, surprising the rest when she grabbed him by the collar of his
polo and whisked him inside. Those left behind looked at each other,
shrugged, and agreed mutually to wait outside. Besides, Natalie wasn’t
bothering to keep her voice down. They could hear it echo all around them,
full of rage, anxiety, and sheer disbelief at whatever had happened. “Look at
this!” she shrieked. “Look at that! Somebody dented the carved mahogany door
shipped all the way from Spain in order for it to be perfect in every detail!”
Ian groaned uncharacteristically. “You had us running all the way here because of
a dent in a door?!” he bellowed. The others winced. “Blast it, Natalie!”
“Blast yourself, Ian!” Natalie shot back, her voice rivaling that of a banshee’s---if
they were true. “I don’t care what you think, but I’m going up to Mom and Dad and
have an investigative team assembled! I will get to the bottom of this!”
“Mom and Dad are currently in Italy for business.” Ian pinched the bridge of his nose
with his thumb and forefinger.
Silence reigned. Then finally, a small voice spoke. “Italy?”
“Yes, Italy,” Ian confirmed. He ran his hand through his perfect hair, a signature
move of his. “Don’t act dumb, Natalie. You knew about that.”
That seemed to fire up his little sister. “I am not dumb!” she screeched back at
him. Then she ran out, charging past the dumbstruck eavesdroppers,
wondering what the hell was going on. After a moment, Ian walked out and
sighed. “I’m sorry,” he apologized to the confused audience. “Please, go back
to sleep.” With that, he left for his room.
And as if nothing had happened, everyone dispersed in different directions.
******
Okay…I needed a little comedy as preparation for the dramatic chapters…I felt
the desire to have something humorous happen before all the world
comes crashing down…by the way, the Starlings and O’Sheas aren’t up
because Sinead threw a tantrum late into the night and all the triplets
couldn’t go back to sleep, while Tristan and Paige had headphones on,
listening to music, so they couldn’t hear the ruckus.
Vote in the poll on my profile page! And…a minimum of three reviews
please…=)
CHAPTER 3
Sinead Starling was, simply said, not on her best behavior today. But then again,
ever since Ian had rejected her a few days ago, she was grouchy and badtempered, not to mention acting like a goddamned spoiled brat. At least,
that was what her brothers had remarked. Which had also caused one hell
of a tantrum from the great Sinead herself, which involved a whole lot of
yelling until her throat was sore, flying objects, a broken vase, and three sets
of torn clothes she had trampled on while flying high on a glorious rage. Like
the saying goes, “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”
Dark rings punctuated her tired and weary eyes, outlining the lines of fatigue on
her haggard face. Tantrums always did that to her. And this particular
tantrum lasted until three in the morning, when her voice turned hoarse,
arms tired from all the throwing, and her exasperated brothers had called it
quits, Ned having a nasty scar on his hand, while Ted had managed to avoid
injury---save for a small bruise in his neck. Sinead was usually the mediator
in all the fights they had, but now, with her in the fight, the cause of the
fight, there was no one left to negotiate with each side for peace.
The room was trashed, but so far, they had been able to fix everything up. Ned
and Sinead were having a glaring war whenever they looked at each other,
but Ted was too tired to argue with any of them, robotically restoring things
to their original positions and places.
“Urgh…when will this end?” Sinead complained as she stuffed feathers back into a
pillowcase, accidentally letting out more feathers in the process.
“If someone hadn’t thrown a hissy fit last night, we would be happily having
breakfast without a care in the world,” Ned replied sarcastically. That sent
his sister’s blood pressure up and her anger boiled dangerously close to the
surface. She opened her mouth, intent on restarting the interrupted battle
last night, when Ted fortunately cut in, his danger sense tingling reliably.
“Ned, help me with these torn sheets will you?” He indicated a pair of twisted up
and torn sheets. Sinead clamped her mouth shut, Ned having been
sufficiently distracted. Ted emitted an indistinct sigh of relief. He wasn’t
energized enough for WORLD WAR III.
As they worked through all the chaotic results of yesterday night, Ted prayed
that there wouldn’t be any chance of a recurrence soon. He’d had enough
adventure for a century.
******
Meanwhile, five doors away, Tristan was jolted awake by a whack in the head. He
stared angrily at his sister, who was casually tying her hair into a simple
ponytail. “What was that for?” he groaned, rolling over on his bed as he took
his headphones off and pressed STOP on his CD player.
“Your stomach was rumbling. And you kept screaming ‘I love you, Amy!’ in your
sleep,” Paige pulled a sympathetic yet annoyed face. “I mean, I understand
how you feel. But the fact is, if you really love her, you’d let her go. There’s
no sense ruining her life by forcing her to love you back. She’s happier this
way.”
“How can you say that?” Tristan demanded, stung. “Do you know something I
don’t? It’s not like Amy’s said that she’s chosen Ian over me, just that she
doesn’t love me back.” He got out of the bed and leaned against the glass
doors leading to the balcony.
Paige was silent for a while, combing her hair. Then, hesitantly, she spoke. She
was already regretting her decision to tell her brother this. “Um…well…Dan
told me a while ago that Amy was…” She paused, trying to somehow soften
the blow.
“Was…?” Tristan prodded, looking at her, his brown bangs falling over his bright,
chocolate-brown eyes. His arms were folded over a white shirt.
“ThatAmywasIan’sgirlfriend,” Paige spoke hurriedly and in one breath, the words
running together until they almost made no sense. But Tristan understood
it.
His eyes widened. His lips parted. Veins bulged as his hands dropped to his sides
and clenched together tightly.
“No,” he breathed. “NO!!!”
******
Breakfast was, to say the least, a tense affair.
Amy had returned to the room she shared with Dan and Nellie two hours ago,
and had come down with the two of them, her hair in a ponytail. They had
chosen seats a chair away from the end of the table. Not at all coincidentally,
Ian parked himself in a seat next to Amy, ignoring Dan’s ‘stay-away-frommy-sister-you-freak’ looks and chatted her up. Disgusted but with no other
option, Natalie took the seat next to Dan. Nellie raised an eyebrow at this,
but shrugged and stuck her iPod’s earphones in her ears. Then the Holts
trooped down the stairs and piled themselves opposite the Kabras and the
Cahills, wearing their signature purple track suits. Next were Jonah Wizard
and his father, clad in the usual gangster and blinged-up attires they wore
every day, and sat next to the Holts nonchalantly. Following them were the
suspiciously tired-looking Starling triplets, who sat next to Natalie, Sinead
looking as if she might tear up when she saw Ian beside Amy, the three of
them in über preppy clothes as usual. Soon, Tristan and Paige stomped to
the dining room, Tristan furious as he spotted Amy talking to Ian while
Paige caught Dan’s eye nervously. They took their seats beside Mr. Wizard.
Then Irina Spasky stalked towards them and sat beside Tristan without a
word. Last was Uncle Alistair, who claimed the only available seat left.
The servants swooped down upon them, bearing covered plates like they did
every day. Then they proceeded to set out expensive, high-end plates and
glasses, as well as gold utensils and cloth napkins before serving them a
portion of the prepared dishes. The Holts attacked their meals with gusto,
looking like a family of rhinos. Jonah Wizard took one look at the food and
then thought up a rap out loud, his father excitedly copying it down on his
BlackBerry, word for word. Irina brandished a device out, checking if the
food was poisoned. Amy and Ian talked quietly as they ate, Dan and Natalie,
as well as Sinead and Tristan, observing them covertly while Paige just
looked down on her plate. Nellie bobbed her head to the music of her iPod.
Ned and Ted were having a conversation, while Uncle Alistair just ate his
food in his ‘old man’ way. But the group didn’t converse as a whole.
And yet, this wasn’t like any breakfast they’d had for the past few days. Because,
unlike the usual ‘I-don’t-trust-you’ atmosphere, this time, it was tense and
full of silent conflicts. Any second now, if anyone dared to breach the line,
chaos would erupt.
Hands were shaking. Thoughts passed through minds impossibly fast. Their
world had just turned upside down. Rivalries had grown to become worse.
What is next in this world of change, uncertainty, bitter ties, pain, and
misery? One thing is for sure. The weak will not survive.
******
Ah…updated…at last…-.-“ Since I now have three ongoing fanfics, I will update
them in this order: A Rose’s Thorns(39 Clues), Queen Of The World
Diaries (39 Clues), and Hurtling Through Time (La Corda D’Oro).
However, next week, I will not be able to update since I’m heading for
Manila, and my mom will not allow me to bring my laptop. =(
Aim4thetarget: Yes, I am going to get the fourth book on the 2nd of June. I’ll
try to put in an Author’s Note with a summary of all significant events.
And, to tell you the truth, you sound suspiciously like one of my best
friends who are also in love with this series. One of them has asked me
to buy him the book, but I can’t, since I don’t have enough money for
that. The other, who has a story relatively close to yours, so I heard, was
also going out of town…hmmm(note: the coincidences are creepy).
Thanks to all my faithful reviewees, namely:
jedigal125
irock329
madly9
DaRkMoOn96
purplee cullen
7539352
No 1.39CluesFan
lesion free pretty
hiccup96
Keely
Unique-ness is Happiness
Welcome-to-the-FAYZ
A fan
aim4thetarget
Butterfliee
P.S. Who can think of a name for our fave couple, Amy Cahill and Ian Kabra?
CHAPTER 4
Noiselessly. Stealthily. Always be on the alert. Be one with nature, and move in
time with the shadows.
All those phrases kept running through Dan’s head as he surreptitiously spied on
Ian and Amy from a distance. Flanking him were two very unlikely
accomplices: Natalie and Paige. They were having a whispered argument,
which he successfully managed to tune out, focusing only on his targets. He
hadn’t wanted them to be here, but they had decided to join him. It somehow
dampened his feeling of being like a ninja, one who was invincible,
extremely clever and capable, the ultimate fighter. But hey, just think of
them as distractions in case the prey had been alerted. At the very least,
they’d be able to help him. Well, maybe a little.
Paige nudged him, hard, and Dan kept his annoyance in check. He clamped his
mouth shut in an effort to stop sound from passing through his lips. “What?”
She appraised his expression and tone. “Don’t be mad,” she whispered in a soft
voice. “But is it true that Ian once betrayed Amy?”
Natalie overheard this, her ears pricked wide open. She scowled. “Of course it’s
true! Back in the Pukhansan, we were able to entrap them! Will you please
stop doubting me and talking behind my back?!”
“I’m not talking behind your back, eavesdropper,” Paige snapped. “And if he did
that, why are they even together? That brother of yours is rotten.”
“Ian is not rotten!” Natalie exclaimed. “But I wholly agree on your point. Why? I
mean, what does he see in that freak show?”
“Keep quiet,” Dan told them through gritted teeth. He really wanted to yell at
them, but he was supposed to be calm. “And Amy might be the dorkiest,
ugliest, book-loving nerd in the world, but she’s not a freak show. Just shy. I
wish we could somehow use that incident to our advantage,” he added as an
afterthought.
“Yeah, I wish,” Paige grumbled. “Um, but how?”
“We definitely can’t recreate the situation,” Natalie pointed out. “Since we’re
trapped here until all further developments on the motives of the Madrigals
are finalized and data has been gathered. So, basically, we’re stuck here.”
“Ugh, you’re right,” Paige complained, the two of them unusually chatty. “By
the way, where’s Mr. McIntyre? I haven’t seen him, since, like, I don’t
know, two days ago?”
Natalie shrugged. “He told mother and father that he was conferring with his
fellow lawyers regarding this matter. It seems they have been associated
with Grace since who-knows-when, and they basically know about us.
According to him, the Madrigal front needs a team of those educated in law
in order to sift through the information needed, and those that are useless,”
she explained.
“Whoah, you know a lot,” Paige said, impressed. She’d thought that this Kabra
girl was a carefree rich brat, but it turned out that she was more than just a
lousy, fashion-obsessed airhead. Clueless much?
Natalie dismissed it like it was no big deal. “I planted a bug in their study. Helps.
Especially when I’m looking for ammunition against my brother.”
“Yeah, so why’d you forget that your parents were going to Italy?” Dan jumped
in. The trio had momentarily forgotten their main purpose, and were now
interviewing each other with the intensity of a news-crazed reporter on the
prowl.
The dark-haired beauty’s forehead wrinkled, as she was reminded of the incident
that had occurred earlier. “A slip-up. I’m usually groggy and not myself in
the mornings,” she confessed. Wait, did I just let slip my biggest secret? She
mentally gasped.
“I know what you mean,” Paige bobbed her head in agreement, completely
missing Natalie’s surprised expression. “Isn’t it irritating? Having to wake
up so early makes me kind of disoriented. Like, detached from myself, you
know? And everything’s one big blur, coming together, and all I really want
to do is stay in bed longer.”
“Yeah-huh, no kidding,” Dan chimed in. “But aren’t we supposed to---“
Natalie cut him off. “What if we spread some nasty things about Amy to Ian?
That she’s just playing him, and it’s not real? What do you think?”
Dan shook his head. “Impossible,” he immediately nixed the idea. “Even the
Holts are smart enough to see Amy’s not like that. It doesn’t suit her
personality. How about if we tell Amy that Ian’s playing her? More
believable. And an added plus is the fact that Sinead could probably help us
out with that.” They were so caught up in the midst of their ‘strategic
meeting’ that they had failed to notice that the mice had escaped from the
trap. Amy and Ian were slowly walking away. Of course, they didn’t know
about the hidden surveillance, but due to the detectives’ lack of attention,
they ‘accidentally’ got away.
“Yeah, and Tristan could get on board, too,” Paige pointed out, brown eyes
twinkling excitedly and mischievously. “He’ll do anything to break those
two up. Believe me, if you could have just seen his expression when I told
him about the two of them being ‘together’. He was sooo mad.”
“Hey, this might not work. Remember last time?” Natalie referred to the failed
attempts and strategies of misleading the love square. (A/N: refer to
Bleeding Hearts, people! ;p )
“That was last time,” Paige disregarded her concern confidently. “This time, it’ll
definitely work.”
Dan’s eyes wandered to where Amy and Ian were a while ago, and---wait a
minute. They were gone! They’d slipped under his nose! If he’d just been
paying attention, this wouldn’t have happened! “Shoot. They got away,” he
muttered, brows puckered. His female companions reverted their attention to
him.
“Whaaaat?” Natalie whisper-shrieked in the enclosed space. “Got away?!”
Paige didn’t look too happy, especially when she saw Dan’s pained and I-amseriously-going-to-blow expression. She put a soothing hand on his
shoulder. “I’m really, really sorry, Dan,” she apologized earnestly. “Come
on---let’s blow this joint and follow them. They can’t be too far.” Dan
nodded, but he looked kind of annoyed.
Natalie didn’t like the way Paige held on to Dan, even when they stood up.
“Oops,” she uttered, deliberately knocking Paige’s hand off of the boy’s
shoulder, making it look as if she didn’t mean it as she flicked back a lock of
hair. Paige eyed her, but not suspiciously, only silently reproaching her for
being so vain. She put on an abashed face. But deep down, she was in
turmoil. She didn’t understand it, but she didn’t want that O’Shea girl
getting near him. He was strictly off-limits.
As they began to regroup themselves, she shook her head at herself. She was
going nuts---that was the only conclusion she’d come to. Otherwise,
whatever went on around Dan wouldn’t concern her, would it?
******
Tristan set his jaw angrily, not a few feet away from the trio. He’d followed them,
and had joined in on spying on Amy and Ian, secretly from afar. The three of
them had been easily distracted, but not him. He had overheard every word
exchanged, every action shared, between those two sickening lovebirds.
Without a word, he punched the trunk of a nearby tree, felt the jarring
contact, the pain blanketing his knuckles like a mist, and then the rest of his
right hand. Felt the crackle of rough bark, falling away from the rest, hearing
the tree’s silent groan.
Ian had invaded his territory. He’d forcibly entered it, disobeyed all laws, and
took what was his. He took what he, Tristan, had loved dearly---his best
friend, his ex-girlfriend, the only one who had ever touched his heart.
Thieving Lucian. They did nothing but amass power and feed off of others’
efforts. Ian Kabra would pay. Tristan didn’t know how yet, but he would. He
would make sure of it.
He was a Tomas. He was strong. He would not let that despicable piece of slime
get away with it.
With one last glance, tracking the path of the oblivious couple, he made a
promise to himself. They would have their happiness. But soon, it would all
come to a definite, satisfying end. He didn’t want to hurt Amy, but he had to
make her realize that what she was doing was wrong, a mistake. He could
guide her to see it his way. And the moment that she would realize he was
right all along, his arms would be open to her, welcoming her, ready to
forgive everything and take her back in. Back to their dream world. Back to
real, true, unmistakable bliss. Back to a land where they only needed each
other, would only have each other, would always be with each other. Ian
would be out of the picture, an accident, a wrong decision to make. Surely,
Amy would finally grasp that. She was smart. Brilliant, even. A ray of light
that shouldn’t be languishing in the darkness, but shining in a kingdom of its
own, nurturing budding flowers, encouraging the soil to burst forth with
crops, unblemished.
That day would come. Tristan was positive.
He would be waiting.
******
I am really, really sorry for the late update, people! See, um, school’s back
in session, and I was just so busy, I forgot to write! But anyways, I’m
back on track (I hope) and will try to update on weekends. Or
wherever there’s a Microsoft Office and internet.
Anyway, here’s an excerpt of book 4---instead of a summary, I decided
to have an excerpt instead! All credits solely claimed by the evertalented Jude Watson.
EXCERPT OF BEYOND THE GRAVE (a reward for my loyal readers!
^^)
It had to happen. After all these years of hating museums, he’d turned
into a permanent exhibit. Dan pressed his palms against the wall.
“Help,” he whispered.
“How much longer do you think he’ll leave us here?” Amy asked.
“Until we crack,” Dan said.
“How can we crack? We don’t know anything.”
“I know I’m hungry,” Dan said. “If Oh offered me a pizza, I’d think of
something.”
“Nellie will start to wonder where we are,” Amy said.
“She’ll never find us.”
“She’ll tell the front desk. Maybe they’ll call the police…”
“Don’t you get it? He owns the hotel. They’re not going to do anything.”
“He can’t just leave us here.” Amy’s voice quavered, and she swallowed
hard. She had been in worse spots, she told herself. But somehow
this Plexiglas cube made her feel panicked. Like she was a thing on
display, not a person. She tried to take a breath. “How much air is in
this thing?”
“I don’t know,” Dan said. “Maybe…maybe we shouldn’t talk.”
Now she had scared her brother. Losing his breath was a real issue for
him. Amy straightened her shoulders. She wasn’t going to lose it.
She’d freaked out in front of Dan before, and she wasn’t going to do
it again. Ever.
“I’m sure there’s enough.” For how long?
The thought rose and she batted it away. The panic eased a little. She
could do this. She knew now that the trick to being brave was not
thinking of the worst thing that could happen. It was a weird thing--if you acted brave, you could almost feel brave.
She’d just have to work at it. As hard as she could.
******
“Kiddos?” Nellie called from the bathroom. “There’d better be food out
there waiting for me!”
No answer. “Dudes?” Nellie knotted the sash of the thick hotel robe.
“Munchkins?” They hated when she called them that. But no howl
of dismay came from the other room.
Nellie pushed open the door. The room was empty. A robe lay on the
floor next to a broken umbrella. The kids had flown the coop.
Well. Who could blame them? They were in a five-star hotel, and they
wanted to explore. Nellie flopped on a sofa and gave herself up to a
luxurious perusal of the room service menu.
Twenty minutes later, she’d plowed through quite a bit of the delicious
assortment of small dishes called meze. But even with the last bites
of sabanikhiyat, she realized that her stomach was more full of
worry than spinach.
Something was up. It had taken her way too long to realize it. Alarms
should have been clanging way before this. She was getting sloppy.
Blame it on hunger or jet lag, but there was no excuse. You’ve got
some explaining to do if you don’t kick your brain into overdrive,
Nellie.
She had been schooled not to show panic, so she didn’t. She sprang up
and inspected the room. For the first time, she took note of the robe
on the floor by the door. At first she’d assumed it was Dan’s sloppy
habits, but when she studied it again, she realized that the way it was
lying meant that someone had flung it off in a hurry. While standing
facing that connecting door…
Nellie sprang forward. She examined every inch of the door. Then she
looked at the broken umbrella on the floor. And everything
suddenly made sense.
******
She saw them before they saw her. Her heart squeezed. Just clapping her
eyes on them gave her a nice rush of relief. But how was she going to
get them out of there? She took a breath and composed herself. She
had to keep calm.
Amy heard the slap of flip-flops and whirled around. The fear in her eyes
turned to relief. “Nellie!” She could hear her clearly. The cube must
have been wired for sound.
Nellie took a bite of her pita. “What is this place?” she asked.
“Nellie? Uh, notice something?” Dan asked. “Like, we’re trapped in a
cube?”
He was trying to act casual, but she could hear his breath was short. She
had tucked his inhaler in her robe pocket in case he needed it. But it
would be better if he didn’t.
Nellie took another bite. Even while she chewed, she assessed the situation
with a cool glance. Saladin appeared and brushed against her ankles.
“You two are an au pair’s worst nightmare. This could be a way for
me to keep tabs on you. It’s, like, a method.”
“NELLIE!” they shouted.
“He could be back any minute!” Dan said.
“Who?”
“Bae Oh! He’s the one who put us in this thing.”
“That old dude you told me about? What did he do, arm wrestle you?”
“NELLIE!”
Nellie walked around the cube. She tapped it with a fingernail. “Any
suggestions?”
“Look up in that far left corner,” Amy suggested. “The circuit is up
there.”
“He pointed a laser at it,” Dan said.
Nellie slapped the pocket of her robe. “Whoah, I think I left my laser
pointer back with my PowerPoint presentation.”
“Nellie!”
“She walked directly over to the corner and peered up. “I see it,” she said.
She reached into her pita, then bent down and fed it to Saladin. “He
loves hummus,” she said. “Who knew?”
“Well, he is an Egyptian Mau,” Dan said. “Maybe this is home cooking
for him.”
“There is no time to feed the cat!” Amy exclaimed.
Saladin licked his cat lips and began to rub against Nellie’s legs, begging
for more.
Nellie scooped up another blob of hummus. She looked up at the corner
again. She aimed and fired the blob up at the ceiling. One of her
many skills, besides making the best grilled cheeses sandwiches on
the planet, was perfect aim. Saladin followed her gaze. “Go ahead,
kitty! Go get it!” Nellie urged.
Saladin leaped up on a vitrine. He gathered himself to spring. He flew up
the ceiling and landed on the metal fretwork that held the lighting
system. He casually stepped to the end of a beam, leaped over to the
circuit, and began to lick the activator.
The cube shuddered a bit, then began to rise.
“Get out of there!” Nellie roared. “Once he finishes the hummus, you’re
cooked! The beam will reactivate.”
Amy pushed Dan through the opening and rolled out herself. She
snatched her foot away just as Saladin lazily jumped to the floor and
the cube slammed back into place.
“Cat tongues are awesome,” Nellie said with satisfaction.
Amy stood and dusted off her knees. “How did you know where we
were?”
“It took me awhile,” Nellie said. “Then I saw little dude’s robe on the
floor. That was a major hint.”
“Wait a second,” Dan said furiously. “Little dude?”
“Now, ordinarily I would think that opening a door with an umbrella
would be, like, odd. But I’ve been hanging around with you two, so I
figure, why not?”
“Bae could be back any minute,” Dan said. “I think we’d better ditch this
place and find another hotel.”
“Bae Oh owns the hotel, remember?” Amy pointed out. “How are we
going to get out of here without being spotted?”
“Simple biology,” Dan said with a glance at Nellie’s robe. “Protective
coloration.”
END EXCERPT
Whew. I copied all those (roughly half of a chapter) word for freaking
word. My back hurts. Hope you enjoyed it! And, as you can pretty
much see, my writing is nowhere near the standards of a well-known
author like Jude Watson. Sigh. But hey, I can dream, right?
In response to some reviews, especially regarding the reason why they’re in
the KABRA ESTATE (all caps bcoz some people think they are in
an apartment or hotel), the reason is revealed in my fanfic, Bleeding
Hearts, very first part of the story. In order for you to understand, I
suggest you also try to read Bleeding Hearts since I might once in a
while refer to it.
I guess that’s all?
Till next!
CHAPTER 5
Ian could feel eyes boring into his back. His senses were always on hyperdrive, and
his internal systems were tingling. He had been trained in covert ops for the
most part of his life; and excellent agent that he was, he knew how to deal
with this situation. It wouldn’t do to get mad and let his emotions rule him,
like last time. He would have to keep a cool head.
“What do you want, O’Shea?” He didn’t turn back to look behind him. Instead, he
leaned against a nearby wall.
Tristan was mildly astonished, but he wasn’t at all puzzled. Of course. The heir to
the Lucian Leadership surely wouldn’t be that crass as to not notice if
someone was approaching him from behind. He smirked. “ You’re pretty
sharp, I’ll give you that. So sharp, you were able to steal her.”
Ian’s whole body tensed. He would not be spoken to that way. “I did not steal her.
She was very clearly unattached. You better clean up your twisted act,
because as far as I’m concerned, you have nothing to do with her, and I am not
in the wrong. Fool.”
“Heh.” Tristan’s gaze dropped, so his bangs were covering his eyes. “Really. You’re
the fool, Kabra prince, to think you can get away with this so easily. Ah, but
I forgot. Your mother was a swindler wasn’t she? Of course, you won’t think
twice about doing this. And I…” He raised his head with icy-cold eyes that
seemed to pierce through Ian, though he couldn’t see it, “I won’t let it slide.
Remember that, filthy Lucian.”
“Hah…” Ian murmured. And then it turned to full-fledged laughter, and he clutched
his stomach. “Hahaha! You think you deserve her? But, Tristan, it was
obvious that it was not meant to be. Dream on!”
Tristan gritted his teeth. His hand shot out and forced Ian around, grabbing hold
of his collar and raising him up high. “Urgh!” Ian spat out.
“Don’t laugh at me,” he began thunderously. “Never laugh at me. Because you will
regret it.” He let go of Ian, features fierce, and walked away, footsteps
ominous.
Ian landed gracefully, then stood, watching his enemy walk away. His eyes
narrowed as he thought of what Tristan O’Shea may or may not be plotting.
He heaved out as sigh. “Seems this is more trouble than I’ prepared for,” he
mused.
Amy suddenly came running and hugged him from behind. “Just as I thought. It’s
you!”
Ian smiled secretly to himself as he pirouetted around to face and embrace her. But
it’s worth it.
******
Sinead had taken to lurking in the shadows. It was the best way to observe people
unnoticed. Normally she would have been repulsed and angered by the lack
of attention, but she decided that she should set aside her “popularity” and
do something beneficial for her cause.
She wasn’t alone, though.
She had managed to drag her brothers along with her, and there they were behind
her, muttering to themselves. “Shut up!” she hissed at them, whipping her
head to present them with a glare befitting a mad tiger. Ned rolled his eyes,
but Ted, the unspoken peacemaker, quieted down. Sinead gave them a onceover and returned to watching the hallways.
“When do we have a break?” Ned groaned, already tired from hiding out in this
cramped niche and dreaming of flying fried chicken.
“Not until we spot them,” his sister replied kind of bossily.
“It’s lunch in thirty minutes!” His voice rose to a high-pitched whine. Ted nudged
him. “Ow!”
Sinead proceeded to step on his foot. She was wearing 3-inch heels, so you could
say that Ned’s protest of pain was not enough. “What the---! And you call
yourself my sister!”
She ignored him, entirely focused on her target.
Ned clamped his mouth shut and seethed deep inside.
An hour and a half later, there was still no sign of what Sinead was looking for.
Her brothers’ faces began to sag.
“I think I’m gonna die,” Ned moaned. Ted just suffered in silence.
Sinead sighed. As much as she didn’t want to admit defeat, she was unexpectedly
hungry and a little dizzy. “Fine! We can’t conduct surveillance with you two
idiots complaining like that anyway.”
“Hey---!” Tristan protested who had hardly uttered a word since they started, but
this time, he was silenced by a look from Ned who was just happy to finally
be able to eat.
“Okay! Come on! I smell roast beef!” He whooped.
And with that, an uncharacteristically hungry trio ran for the dining room.
******
Yeah, okay it’s not much, but I was just glad I was able to come up with
anything at all since I was just so busy. It’s a good thing we had a bit of a
break because the number of students with dengue had risen, and
there’s at least one confirmed case of Influenza A(H1N1) at our school.
Don’t worry, I’m not sick.
I’ll try to make a better chapter next!
With love,
V-chan^^
CHAPTER 6
Natalie was confused.
So many emotions were wreaking havoc to the core of her being; every fiber
vibrated with tension, hatred and that nameless feeling---nameless because,
though she knew exactly what it was, she could not accept it.
It was so hard to keep up a façade. To not show that bits of her shell were
breaking apart, and left her defenseless in its wake. It both scared and
terrified her, yet awakened something that was slumbering deep within. But
the bottom line was, she felt uncomfortable.
And Natalie Kabra did not like feeling uncomfortable. She simply wasn’t used to.
And so she ignored every form of communication that passed between Dan and
Paige; every whisper, every breath, every accidental touch, every laugh, every
smile. It was better that way.
By the time lunch had ended, Natalie was a gibbering wreck inside, and an
irritated, cross little girl whose nerves were frazzled with a tendency to
frown, on the outside.
The others though, hardly noticed it. After all wasn’t she always acting this way?
In fact, it would be much more surprising if she wasn’t spiteful. So they
ignored her sarcastic remarks and fierce glares. Except, of course, for those
who couldn’t resist rising to the provocation. Which explained why Natalie
was currently in the middle of a heated shout-fest with Sinead, whose short
fuse lately resulted in an explosion if sparked by a tiny flame.
“Shut up, you brat! What the hell gives you the right to just stomp in and push me
away?!” Sinead yelled, her loud voice needlessly attracting attention from
the already-gathered audience, who settled down on chintz armchairs and
watched the match with interest.
“This is my house!” Natalie shot back petulantly, arms crossed in her usual
manner, her hair swirling about her face. There was a crackle of lightning as
they glared at each other. Paige nervously raised her eyes to heaven at the
sound.
“Oh, so you think that entitles you to knocking people off like they’re no more
than bugs? Your house or not, whether it be here or there, you can’t go
around with your nose in the air and order as about as you please!” Sinead
screamed in her rage. Her hair was turning an interesting shade of red.
“Much like the way you’ve been acting, eh, Sinead?” Natalie taunted, watching
with a kind of vindicated pleasure as Sinead’s face grew even redder. “Have
you had chili? You look like a tomato.”
Her adversary gritted her teeth. “I’d say you’re an avocado,” she returned, correctly
guessing what Natalie was feeling right now. The watchers leaned forward
in bated breath and anticipation.
Natalie’s heart stopped, and she frantically willed it to restart. Sinead knew. That
witch knew! She carefully chose her words, not wanting to give herself
away. “Why would that be?”
“It’s because of jea-lou-sy,” Sinead sang in a horribly out-of-tune voice.
There was a cough and surprised mutterings from the onlookers. Natalie paled
under her dark skin. Her eyes flashed. “And what are you insinuating?” she
demanded.
“Oh, nothing,” Sinead waved her hand airily.
“Nothing indeed,” Natalie scoffed. “Perhaps it has something to do
with…unrequited obsession?”
Sinead gasped as if she’d been slapped. Without another word, save for the clack of
a heel, she left. Natalie smiled.
That was a close call. She had to tread carefully from now on. But now, at least,
victory was hers.
******
Jonah was bored He was not used to not doing anything. Well, he hardly ever did
anything, come to think of it, but at least he got paid, made the rounds
among top showbiz folk, and churned out hits. Gotta keep the flame
burning, yo. Gotta keep ‘em coming.
But he hardly could keep anything coming, could he? He was marooned on this
mansion which, make no mistake, though it was magnificent, still felt like
just another padded jail.
But watching his Cahill cousins was quite a bit o’ entertainment. He wasn’t
dragged in the mess, so he could easily keep up. And there was some serious
stuff brewing underneath all that, man. He hoped his dad would get good
shots.
Jonah grinned. “Cahill In The Haus” was going to be a major hit. Time to get
cracking on a new reality show.
******
Nighttime had set in. Outside, a silvery moon bathed the surroundings,
transforming the place into an ethereal haven. Multicolored balls of light
hung from tree’s branches---the Kabras had no concern whatsoever for
global recession(A/N: LOL.). Wind ruffled the blades of grass, and a pair of
bare feet padded across the lawns, deep into the forest, and finally to the
treehouse beside the lake where Amy had been lost a long time ago. Well, a
few days at most.
Natalie climbed up stealthily to the jade screen and pulled it back. A person was
silhouetted in the darkness.
“What do you want, brother?” the dark-haired girl addressed the shadow, sliding
back the screen and folding herself on the paneled wood floor.
Ian looked up, not quite registering from his moment of dazed meditation. “Oh,
Natalie. You took your time, I see.”
“Hmmph,” his sister responded grumpily. “So what did you want to see me for?”
Ian was quiet for some time, and Natalie shifted restlessly from her seat on the
floor.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.
Her brother sighed. “Impatient as ever,” he muttered. “Anyway, you’ve been a little
too much lately. More than I can handle, I say.”
“What do you expect?” Natalie protested, a little too defensively. “There’s a whole
load of balderdash in the house. People I want to get rid of. And we can’t
dominate the world or win the race if we’re trapped here.”
“That’s not it.” Ian stared off into the panoramic view of flashing lights, the lake,
and the brightly-lit mansion. “That’s not it, and you know it, Natalie.”
Natalie gulped.
“You’re not yourself. Sure, you’re a pain, but not to this level. Something is
bothering you. And I’m guessing…that that something has to do with a boy
named Daniel Cahill.”
Natalie’s worst fears had been realized. Never had she thought that someone
would see through her and find out all the things she’d desperately locked
away. Her whole body heated up, until it felt like she was sitting on a bed of
coals. She couldn’t look at her brother. She just stared at her feet and tried
to ignore the tears pricking the back of her eyes. “What about you?” she
asked in a soft, quavering voice uncharacteristic of her. “What about Amy?
I’m doing this because I know it’s wrong. I don’t want to destroy everything
we’ve worked for.” She raised her head, voice rising in crescendo,
desperation stealing across it. “Ian, please! Stop this madness! Can’t you see
what you’re doing is wrong?! Don’t you care?”
“I care.” Ian’s voice, serious and remarkably calm, floated into Natalie’s
consciousness. “Of course I care.”
“Then why---“
“Because I’m honest, Natalie. And I’d be a fool if I say that I’m strong enough to
throw it all away. I’m not. I can never throw the girl I love away. She’s not a
piece of garbage. She’s a treasure, and I’ll be damned if I let her go now.”
Natalie stared at her brother in disbelief. “You…you…” She couldn’t think of the
words that would drum some sense back into her brother’s head.
“You…I…why are you doing this? And what do you care if I like someone?
Tell Mom and Dad, then. Tell them I’m a traitor. Which is no less than what
you are.”
“Natalie.” Ian walked over to his sister, who deliberately turned her back to him.
“Natalie. Listen to me.” She clapped her hands over her ears. Ian knelt
directly in front of her, grasped her hands, and looked into her amber eyes,
which tried to evade his gaze.
“You. Are. My. Sister,” he said. “And I’ll protect you. Alright? Just because we argue
doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy. We’re siblings, for goodness’
sake. Do you think I can stand to see you fail at this when you’ve been the
best in anything so far.”
That was it. Natalie could stand it no longer. She hurled her face in her brother’s
silk voile shirt and sobbed. Ian smiled affectionately. “Silly girl,” he
murmured. “Kabras never lose.”
Natalie grinned. “Yeah. We don’t.”
******
Exams are this week, but I’m being a little naughty and neglecting my
studies…heh. Please don’t follow my example. It is unhealthy.
But now, I have a serious…announcement.
To all Filipinos who are reading this, I am sure you have heard of former
President Corazon C. Aquino’s demise. Cory succumbed to death after a
year and a half’s battle with colon cancer, and finally passed away on
August 1, 2009, at 3:18 am. She will be buried on August 5, 2009.
Cory was, and still is, a strong woman. She was a symbol of hope and courage
to all during the time of oppression we lived in under Martial Law,
which was declared by Marcos. Her term was perhaps, the brightest
and happiest among all we’ve experienced so far. Never did she try to
usurp the power bestowed on her; never did she lose sight of her
country’s needs. Cory has always been for the people; and she
supported everyone of us, praying for everyone’s safety. She wasn’t
scared of saying what she thought of corrupt leaders, and fighting for
the things she thought were rightfully ours. She only wished for a
peaceful and much better life for all of us.
It is ironic that after battling all kinds of political leaders and terrorists, she
should die at the hands of an illness. Not ordinary, perhaps, but still
quite heart-breaking. She was the manifestation that miracles can come
true, and that people of integrity and goodness can walk this earth. It is
a bitter end to what could have been a glorious life. But I believe that
Cory will always walk with us, will always be with us, at her death, and
even beyond her grave. She is gone. She will be missed.
Paalam, Ina ng Demokrasya, First Woman President of the Philippines, Isang
Lider na patuloy na gumagabay sa atin kahit anuman ang mangyari. Sana
makamit mo na ang iyong inaasam na kaligayahan.
Salamat, Cory.
I’m having the day from hell…
It was all going so well (before you came)
I was shocked, shocked beyond belief, shocked beyond the capabilities of my
consciousness when I saw him. Him, that awful traitor, heartbreaker, and
thief. Anger bubbled up, boiling to the very limits of what little control I
had.
And you told me you needed space
With a kiss on the side my face (not again)
Going through all the torture and hurt and pain of everything had steeled me for
this very moment. I pushed away the cries of “No!” in my head. Sometimes,
things were necessary. Essential in one’s survival. Ian had taught me that. It
was the one lesson I’d carefully tucked away, slumbering deep within. That,
and trusting no-one but my brother and I. Even Nellie wasn’t completely
trustworthy.
And not to mention (the tears I shed)
But I should have kicked your (ass instead)
I need intervention, attention
To stop temptation to scream
Everything was a roiling mix of frustration and anger. I didn’t know who I was
anymore. Maybe, I’d really reached the boundaries. Maybe, bottling
everything up had caused me to explode. I just couldn’t take it more. I was
suffering.
‘Cause baby
Everything is F’ed up straight from the heart
Tell me what do you do when it all falls apart
It probably never falls apart for you, does it? Perfection so maddening, I could
almost die. I wish you weren’t so perfect. I wish we’d never met. I wish I’d
had more sense not to fall straight into your trap. But I’m an idiot, a fool. I
always am. I wish I had more confidence to pay you back in kind…to put you
through the very same torture, the very same mindless conundrum, the very
same harshness of life. Cruelty you subjected me to. The coldness. The frigid
atmosphere and tense situations that should have been a sign, but which I
ignored.
Gotta pick myself up, where do I start?
Coz I can’t turn to you when it all falls apart,
No
I can’t trust you anymore. I won’t believe every word you say. The deceit you used
in dealing with me, toying with my emotions, squeezing out every last bit. I
didn’t know where to start. Here in the darkness, trapped in this
pain…trapped in the knowledge of losing anything and everything I had. I
was blind, I can’t see, I can’t find my way back. Slipping away…slipping
somewhere deep inside. Breaking down almost every day, every moment,
every second…
And so, when you grabbed my hand, I kicked you as hard as I could. It was only a
tiny fraction of everything I’ve endured. But, more importantly, it was the
only thing I could do. Because, if I’d dwelt any further, if I stopped and
pondered, I would have been lost in those bright, beautiful, amber eyes…
And no matter what I say and do, I still am falling in love with you.
******
This is based---loosely based---on Book 5. But here’s the twist---I still don’t
have it. Much of the glancing references are from summaries found in
the Web, so please excuse me for my all-too-obvious ignorance.
The song, by the way, is “When It All Falls Apart” by the Australian duo--though they argue that they are a band---THE VERONICAS. Needless
to say, I’m a fan.
Please vote on my profile page’s poll! And just a little something I’d like to
share (please don’t think I’m conceited): the picture I use as my avatar
is actually one that I drew. I think it’s what Amy Cahill looks like. I
know, it’s ugly, but hey, I’m a writer, not an artist!
Kisses,
Troubadour12