Gravity: The Gravity Series #1

by A. B. Bloom

  "So, what happens if the darkness stays?"

  He lifted a dark eyebrow into a high arch. "Remember the birds?"

  "Oh." I couldn't believe this. "Oh." I repeated.

  I was at a loss for words. It was five minutes before I could speak again. He didn’t push or press me to speed up my addled brain. He just watched me with a look of some indescribable emotion on his face. "So, if it's not stopped?" I asked.

  "The human race will die eventually. Nothing can live in the dark."

  I cocked my head to the side. "Apart from you?"

  A slow nod. "Apart from me."

  "And you need me because..?" This was a big unanswered question. Why was he here? Why had he been watching me?

  "Because." He fiddled with his bootlace. "We've accounted for all the other Stars. You're the only one who still needs to throw their energy between one side or the other."

  "But I don't have any energy. You've seen me, I fall over a lot. My bones break like twigs and I can't do anything."

  His eyes held mine steady. "I know. And therein lies the problem."

  My head shook slowly. I felt I was trying to get the information to fall into a completed jigsaw. The pieces just kept tumbling around, edges in all the wrong places. I knew I was only going to complete the jigsaw by letting go of reality completely. In truth, I had no idea how to do that. I thought of everyone stifling yawns in English, watching the time on the clock tick away. Were the people sitting in that class going to die? My brain threatened to liquefy and ooze out of my ears like in a horror movie. I glanced at his face as he watched me process. His expression told me this wasn't a movie or a dream, it was real.

  I studied him closely. His face was one you could write about if there were words in the English language up to the task. His cheekbones were high and sharp, his nose straight. His skin tanned and smooth—made all the darker by his black clothes. The only thing that stood out as not perfect was his hair. It seemed to defy gravity. He ran a hand through it when he noticed me looking. "It's the cap." His face split into the most breathtaking smile and my own lips curled in response. I nodded. What was I supposed to say? It's okay, the hair is fine because you're so beautiful you can pull it off?

  "I really don't understand," I said.

  The vibrant violets blinked down at me. "I know, I don't either."

  "No. I don't mean about me not having the power you expect; I mean, I just don't understand." I could feel tears prickle along my eyelashes. Don't cry. It's pathetic. I wanted to cry. I also wanted to be sick. Blinking furiously, I determined to do neither.

  He shuffled towards me and I realised I didn't even know his name. Lauren had called him Phoenix, but as none of that had been real, I wasn't convinced. Would knowing a name make this any easier? I wasn't sure, so I didn't ask. "We don't know who your father was. Maybe if we did we would be able to work this out." He sat close, his folded knees nearly touching mine.

  "How did you know what I was?"

  His lips pursed. "Half born's are very rare. Their energy ripples through the solar system as soon as conception takes place." At the word conception, my cheeks turned a vivid pink. That's not embarrassing at all. Was it me or did he study the dirt on the ground a little closer?

  "Why are we so rare?" I think my real question was why we existed at all but I couldn't access the reality-based part of my brain. He shrugged.

  He sighed a little and his eyes glanced far into the distance. "When the war split the sky, they realised that half born's were too dangerous because their power could be harnessed for one side or the other." His eyes flashed onto mine, burning bright. "Half born's became illegal, and creating them was the highest act of treason."

  Treason? Illegal?

  "So, there are others like me?"

  His silence spoke more than any words.

  "What?" I leant forward and my knee jogged his, he started back from my accidental touch. "Sorry," I mumbled.

  He rubbed absently at his knee like I'd hurt him. "There were others like you, Bron. They don't exist anymore." His voice was soft, but there was underlying grit that hinted at a story I might not want to know.

  "Pardon? Why?" My throat tightened at the prospect I might be the last of whatever the hell I was supposed to be. The door on the reality based facet of my brain clanked shut.

  "All the Stars have chosen their side. We were waiting for the remaining Half Born to come into their energy, but. . ." He tailed off.

  "But?"

  The violets filled with a hard frost on a winter day. "But they all died. None of them made it to their sixteenth birthday."

  My mouth fell open. "None of them?" The tears came back, with a vengeance, and the thought of children dying before their sixteenth birthday filled me with a void of grief.

  Nick breathed out through his mouth and his fingers clenching into a tight fist. "No. There's a hunter."

  "A hunter?" This sounded incredulous.

  "He's got to every one before us. Or around us, or through us, if that’s what it took. That's why we've been watching you since before you were born."

  I needed a moment to process this. Scrambling off the dried dirt, I paced away, my hands shoved deep in the pocket of my jeans. I could feel the locked door of the reality facet of my brain jangle on it's hinges, like it was holding back a storm. Could this be real?

  "It's real, Bron." His hand was firm on my shoulder and he turned me round, his face leaning down close, his eyes boring into mine.

  "Can you read my mind now?"

  A wry smile flitted across his face. "Not exactly, I can pick up your thoughts, though." My face must have looked aghast because he laughed, it sounded to my dull ears like the peal of cathedral bells. "Only a vague gist." He ran a finger through a lock of my hair. "If you had access to your energy then you would be able to do it, too."

  My mouth went as dry as the desert. "What are you thinking?" I wanted to know so bad. Did he hate me for being the last of the illegal half born's? Was I considered a bad thing? My breath caught in my throat as I waited for his answer. It was an agonising wait.

  For a long pause he stared at me, his eyes reading every single inch of my face. "Nothing good." His voice was low and the signal I received from him was muddled, like a radio receiver set between stations. His words hinted at a story underneath, one I didn't know, one I wasn't meant to know.

  I stared unblinkingly—absorbed, and dragged into the wide expanse of heather fields his eyes evoked.

  When he pulled away it felt like a tearing rip through my body, the chain rang and dangled. He coughed. "The others should arrive soon and we will make a plan. I need to keep you safe until they get here."

  I stepped back. 'So, are you my bodyguard now?"

  His lips set in that firm determined line I'd seen earlier. "Yes. That's all I am."

  I don't know why his words irritated the hell out of me but restlessness burned through my body. "Well if you want to be my bodyguard then you can't be invisible to everyone else."

  "Bron." He reached a hand but I jumped away from his touch and a guarded expression flickered in the depths of his eyes. "I can not be invisible if you'd prefer."

  "Whatever." I waved at him and walked away.

  "You can't walk away," he called after me.

  'Watch me."

  My room was dark although I was still doing a thorough job of searching for patterns on the ceiling. Lauren had been texting me, asking how my migraine had been. From the corner of my eye I could see the screen light up and flicker every couple of minutes. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey did you know the world really is ending? Also I'll tell you what's really funny, I'm half a star and I'm supposed to stop it.’ Hahaha, yes, let’s all laugh at how Bronte Bell, who can't walk straight, is supposed to save the word. Nope. The messages were better left unanswered. And I was better off staring at the ceiling, praying that this was all a terrible dream.

  Of course Aaron knew about my supposed migraine by the time I'd got home. The
school had rung within about fifteen minutes of me walking out of class. This meant I had to account for the extra forty-five minutes until I'd slammed in through the front door. I'd only been with him, the boy without a name, for an hour. How is it possible for your world to change down to its foundations in just one hour? I knew that was a stupid question to ask, and I kicked my legs into the mattress and yanked the pillow over my face. People had their lives transformed in seconds when an accident hit. I guess in a way I'd been lucky to get an hour.

  Bodyguard.

  It was rankling me and I couldn't explain it. I pulled my pillow over my face but the word was still there, zooming around and around in my head.

  Luckily, I'd been able to convince Aaron that mum didn’t need to know about my fictional migraine. It wouldn’t take much for her to embark on her home-schooling idea, and if that happened, then there wouldn't be much need for a bodyguard. In fact, there wouldn't be much need for anything because I'd never be allowed to leave the house. I'd be a prisoner inside these four walls forever. A prisoner swaddled in cotton wool.

  A tap at the glass pane of my window made me jump and I flung the pillow off my face. He perched on the window ledge. I wondered what would happen if I shoved him off. Would he fly? The prospect almost made me laugh. Almost.

  "Can I come in?" he called through the glass. Who was he? Peter bloody Pan?

  A dramatic sigh escaped my lips and I flounced back onto the pillows. "Whatever."

  I heard the sash window lifting but no footsteps landed on the floor. "Is that your favourite word?"

  "Whatever."

  "I take that as a yes." He sounded amused. I wasn't amused. I was pissed.

  Turning my head, I found him sat on the window ledge, his legs dangling into my room. "Why are you so angry?"

  I pulled the face my mum always tells me off for, the one where I roll my eyes and stick my tongue into my lower lip. His lips twitched and I wanted to throw something at him.

  "Oh, I don't know." I sighed. "Some guy, whose name I don't know rocks up, tells me everything I know is a complete lie, expecting me to get on with it." I huffed. "Like he hasn't just changed my very existence." And again with the annoying tears.

  He slid onto the carpet, although he didn't make a noise. Walking to the bed he motioned to the mattress. "May I sit?"

  What was with the formality? He sounded like he'd fallen from the pages of an Austen novel—not from the night sky.

  "Sure."

  He looked at me, his cap back on, shading his face. "That's not why you're angry."

  "Whatever."

  A low chuckle fitted from under the shadow. "This could be a long couple of days."

  "Couple of days?" I couldn't help myself—I sat up straighter and the chain pulled inside me. I wanted to take a pair of bolt cutters to it.

  He leant down onto his knees, his head dipped. "Yes. When the others get here, you won't need me anymore."

  "Well, that's a relief, you're damn annoying."

  "What did I do?" His head turned just a fraction towards me.

  "You tricked me! Made me think I was going mad."

  He sighed, and steepled his fingers into an arch. "I wasn't trying to trick you. I was trying to asses your power. I couldn't believe it when I got here and realised you had gained no energy since the last time I saw you."

  "When was that?" This was off topic but I was intrigued.

  He sighed again. "Last summer. I tried to come myself once a year if I could." He made a show of studying the duvet cover and I wondered if he was telling the truth.

  "Why? Why did you have to come yourself?" I sensed there was something he was holding back.

  "Just interest, I guess." He glanced at the opposite wall.

  "Who else came?" I stretched my toes, the ache pulling on my calves felt good, made me recall I was real.

  "The other's." His response clipped. "You'll meet them soon."

  "And you've all decided what side you are on?"

  "Sorry?" He turned to face me directly.

  "You've all decided what you want to happen? Whether the Stars should die, or the darkness should spread?"

  He blew out a gustful of air. "I guess."

  “You don't sound sure."

  A flash of a smile. "It's irrelevant.

  "What is relevant?"

  "You."

  I turned my attention to the ceiling again, thinking of my next question. "Why did you have to trick me so much?"

  Another sigh. "Well, when I got here, you were, well, you were..."

  "A walking calamity?"

  Another blinding smile lit the room. "Yes, that. I didn't understand, because it made little sense. You should have been stronger. I was expecting to teach you how to use your energy, not help you find it." He lifted the cap and scratched his hair before pulling it firmly back down again. "So I watched you for a few days while I decided whether to expose myself to you."

  I snorted with laughter. "What's funny?" he asked.

  "You get arrested for exposing yourself here."

  There was a moment of hesitation followed by a chuckle that made my ears ring with pretty noises. "Okay, I get it." Another chuckle. "Anyway, I gave it a go and exposed myself."

  I laughed louder. "Please don't say that again."

  "I'll try." His body shifted back further onto the mattress. I didn't know him, but having him there felt comfortably familiar. "So that first morning at school, I made sure that you could see me but I remained hidden from everyone else."

  "How?"

  “Okay, you need to slow down with the questions."

  "Sorry. Carry on."

  "I couldn't believe it when you saw me."

  I flushed when I remembered falling over. "And in the dinner hall?" A flame of anger rushed over my skin when I remembered Eleanor causing me to look stupid in front of him.

  "Your wrist just snapped like a twig. I doubted again whether it was really you we were waiting for."

  "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I grumbled.

  "Wait!" He nudged my leg and I was sure that a burning fire singed my skin. "So I switched it, changed reality to see if you could see through it."

  "You made me pass out." I recalled my fury at the fence when I’d been brave for the first time ever and marched up to him.

  "Well, you were pretty mad."

  I filtered through the events of the last few days. "And at the party with Eleanor?" A bitter taste filled my mouth when I recalled her touching him.

  "Just a projection. A glamour, we call it." I thought he turned slightly to gauge my reaction, but it was a subtle movement and I couldn't be sure.

  Sighing, I stared at the ceiling—again. "I still can't believe any of this."

  His voice was soft. "Try, because it's happening."

  "Can I tell Lauren?"

  "Do you think she will believe you?"

  I thought for a moment. Lauren was the most pragmatic person I knew. If it wasn't black and white and printed on a page then she had no time for it. That's why she believed all this end of days stuff. I gasped.

  "What?" he asked.

  "It really is the end of days, isn't it?"

  He shrugged. "I guess it depends which way you look at it."

  “What way do you look at it?" I was probing again. I needed to know what he thought. He knew what I was doing, though, and deepened the shrug. "You knowing what I'm thinking is going to get old real soon," I muttered.

  "Well, Bronte, if you could work out how to access your energy you'd be able to block me."

  "Really?" This made finding my mysterious energy all the more enticing.

  "Really."

  I frowned at his cap. "The hat is really annoying me, why do you wear it? I can't see you properly."

  There was a long pause. "I find it helps."

  "Helps what? Annoy me?"

  His fingers plucked at the edge of my mattress. His fingers, which I noticed were perfectly smooth, plucked at a bobble on the sheet. "Things
aren't right at the moment. I don't want you to see me properly. Not the real me,” he exhaled, “you might not be able to take it."

  "What do you mean, ‘take it’?"

  He chuckled. "Do you have a question for everything? It doesn't matter what I say, you always have another question ready to fire at me."

  “I may have been told that before. It annoys Aaron to hell."

  "Who's Aaron?"

  "Duh, my step father? You can't have been watching me that closely."

  He shrugged again, which I was beginning to think was his favourite form of communication. "Anyway," I interrupted, before he had a chance to ask anything further about my family setup. "Why can't I see you?" I sat up and folded my legs, aware that I was in my pyjama shorts. He shifted away slightly.

  "Human's can't see Stars, only if we reveal ourselves. Now I know you can see me, we've proved that. But I don't know if you could see my true form. It might be too much for you and it's not a risk I'm willing to take."

  "But I saw you earlier, at the oak tree?"

  He nodded. "I was blocking you though, just a little,” he added hastily, when he registered my frown. "I can't guarantee I will always be able to maintain my control."

  "Why?"

  A ghost of a smile fluttered under the peak of the cap. "I could get distracted."

  "By what?"

  The smile grew. "Okay, enough with the questions. You should sleep. We've got school tomorrow."

  It was my time to smile. "Are you coming with me?"

  "Looks like it."

  "Will other people be able to see you?"

  "Do you want them to?"

  This was a tough one. He was gorgeous and I knew he would cause a dramatic surge in the oestrogen levels of the school. "Yes."

  He laughed loudly.

  "Stop reading my thoughts."

  "I'm trying but you're just throwing them at me."

  I pulled a face and settled myself down on the bed. "Are you staying here?" My chest constricted a little and the jelly sensation in my stomach flipped over.

  "I think that's for the best." His voice took on a protective edge and a warm tingle crept along my insides. "I'll take the chair."

  "Okay." I glanced at him. "I'm not sleepy."