I could see tarnishes on the side of the gun, little marks of wear and tear. His hand was so close to my face that I saw the grooves in the man's skin. I felt sweat trickle down the back of my neck.
I raised my hands and took a step back. "Whoa, man! What are you trying to do here?" I put on my best masculine impression by deepening my voice slightly and adding a swagger to my demeanour. "I haven't got any money and I don't want any trouble."
"We don't want your money." The man and the gun took a step closer again. "We want you."
I tried to look baffled by what he was saying.
"You sure this is her?" the other man whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.
"Yes, it's her. Look." Still pointing the gun, he lunged forward and ripped Matthew's cap from my head. My red hair unfurled in damp clumps. "You see?"
My heart squeezed as panic began to set in. These men knew from the start who I was. They were looking for me. They wanted me.
"Get in the van." He brandished the gun.
I glanced over my shoulder at the open end of the white vehicle. I faced the men. "There's no way in hell that I'm going in there."
Both seemed startled by what I said, obviously just expecting me to waltz into the van from my own free will. The first man waved the gun in front of my face. "Get in that van or I will pull this trigger right here, right now."
Even though my heart hammered against my rib cage and I could barely breathe, I stood my ground. "If you wanted to kill me, you would have killed me already. That gun's useless because you have no intention of using it."
"You think I won't use this?" He looked angry.
I shrugged. "Go ahead. Prove me wrong."
For a split second, I thought he might actually do it. I swear I saw his finger twitch against the trigger. After what felt like a lifetime, he lowered the gun from my head and passed it to the other man.
"Trust us to get a difficult one, eh?" he said over his shoulder. He chuckled and shook his head. "Boys over in Germany managed to get two from the Breeding Centre and we're left going after a cross-dresser with an attitude problem."
I felt my eyes widen. These men had something to do with what happened in Germany. They knew the men who had orchestrated the attack. I looked down at the blonde man's arms again, at the scars on his skin. They were definitely scratch marks, from someone fighting in self-defence.
I took a step forward. "Where's Abigail?" I put as much force into the words as I could. I wasn't going to let my voice give away how scared I truly felt. "Where the hell is she?"
The men shared a look. "Who're you talking about?"
"Abigail – the girl you stole from the Presentation Ceremony in Paris two nights ago."
The first man tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Hm... Abigail. Abigail, Abigail, Abigail."
"Don't think I know an Abigail," the second man said.
"Nope," said the first, "can't say the name rings a bell. Although... I do remember having a lot of fun with a pretty, little blonde. Didn't catch her name, I'm afraid. Didn't really care enough to ask."
My teeth clenched together in anger. "Where is she?"
"The blonde? She wasn't fit to last. Poor choice on our part really."
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The Flower Courts
Teen FictionThe world is different. After 99.9% of the population of women are killed, the girls who remain are precious. There are not enough women for the vast amount of men and so the wealthy formed The Flower Courts to purchase and keep the girls as their p...