Not protected, p.10
Not Protected, page 10
"It's a pity you won't be back for long."
Suddenly, the surface of sleek metal flashed into the open, but just as the agent began to squeeze down on the trigger, Michael's shoe came out of nowhere. A loud bang echoed throughout the car and a smoking hole appeared on the roof of the car.
All three cars pressed down on the gas, and we were thrown against our seats thanks to the sudden acceleration. That didn't stop me from regaining my momentum and surging forward to throw my fist into the passenger agent's face.
The driver began fumbling around in his coat, but before he got the chance to pull out a gun or a knife, I seized his wrist and pulled it back. The driver howled in pain, giving me a chance to slam his head into the wheel. A loud honk ensued and he was knocked out cold.
The driver's foot must've remained on the accelerator because our car shot forward with an uncontrollable velocity. The passenger agent was completely unprepared and his head smashed against the dashboard.
That wasn't the only thing that was going to crash. "Come on!" I shouted to Michael. I unlocked my door and threw it open before grabbing Michael's hand dragging him out with me as I jumped. I could feel bruises already marking my body as I tumbled onto the ground. Rocks dug into my back and legs, scraping my cheeks, and there was the taste of iron and salt coating my lips.
Just up ahead, I saw the car collide into the back of the SUV in front of it, but I also watched as the third car began to slow down, stop, and turn around. Michael and I got to our feet, exchanged what-otherchoice-do-we-really-have looks before sprinting away.
This was bad. Very, very bad. Was reinforcement on the way? Don't ask me, I didn't have a single clue. I didn't even know if my phone was still in my possession after that stunt. There was virtually nowhere for the two of us to take cover at while waiting for someone to finally realize, "Hmm, the princess sure is late."
Gods, I can't wait to just rub this into Elijah's face.
There was a scream of tires behind us, and I shot a look over my shoulder to see that one of the black cars was no advancing with frightening speed. There was no chance of outrunning these guys. They had wheels, weapons--a sense of direction. Michael and I were practically sitting ducks.
All Michael and I needed was some sort of delay.
The unscathed vehicle screeched to a stop and a group of men climbed out, all of them holding up guns. Oh, joy.
"I don't think this was supposed to happen," I said, taking a step forward.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're quite rude?" I said, shooting him a smile. "Come on, Michael. How about a grin?" "Banks, do you even understand the situation we're in?"
A third party joined in our conversation. "If you're done chatting, listen up!" a gruff voice shouted.
Without hesitation, Michael grabbed my arm and pulled me behind him, shielding me with his body. I peeked around his frame, watching as our enemies directed their aim at Michael.
"What do you want?" Michael barked. "Hand over the princess and we'll let you walk away alive," the man in the middle bargained. He had pale fuzz covering the top of his egg-like head and a nasty scar contorted the side of his face, extending from his ear to the corner of his lips.
"Over my dead body," Michael growled.
A grin spread over the man's face, further twisting his features. "My pleasure."
I didn't pause to think. I stepped forward and smashed the side of my body against Michael's, forcing him to tumble onto the ground before I hopped over his legs. My arms were raised, and now the aim was on me.
"Maria, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Michael groaned, attempting to get up. My boots stepped onto his arm, pinning him down as I kept my attention focused on our enemies. "Guys, don't you think there's a more diplomatic way to approach this situation?" I asked, keeping a light tone. "How about we put the guns down and talk this out like normal people?"
Laughter ensued. "You think you're so funny, don't you, princess?" the middle man scoffed. "You're going to come with us or we'll kill the both of you."
"Actually, I think I'm hilarious," I grinned. "You know what else is hilarious? The fac thtat you're even trying to lie about shooting me. We all know none of you are allowed to do it."
"Our orders were to bring you in alive, but if you put up too much of a fight, we were welcome to shoot you and anyone else who interfered with our plans. And right now, you're becoming a bit of a hassle." My blood chilled--these weren't the same people I was used to dealing with. My ordinary kidnappers either took me to get a handsome ransom, or they were working under
None of my kidnappers had been under direct orders to kill me. Still, I kept my strong stance, crossing my arms and holding my head up high. "You're bluffing," I called out, hoping to seem unfazed.
"Are you willing to bet your life on that?" the man inquired. Michael managed to wrench his arm away from my hold and he got to his feet, once more pushing me behind him. "On the count of three," he said softly, "you run."
"They'll just gun us down," I pointed out. My head snapped to the side, my eyes widening to the size of Jupiter's moons as I glared at Michael. He was facing the enemy with a dead-set determination that would've filled me with awe except for the fact that I was about to throttle this boy.
"Absolutely not!" I refused.
"One!" the man shouted.
"I'm going to push you behind me and you're going to run," Michael instructed, his voice cool and collected as though he wasn't about to face death.
"Two!"
"Michael, I'm not leaving without you!" I grabbed his arm, and that was when he faced me. Shock flittered through me for a split second as I saw the desperation and fear coloring his features. "And I'm not letting you die." He seized my grip, his hand blanketing mine, and I knew he was about to shove me away from him when a shot rang through the air. The man in the middle collapsed, his gun falling from his hand as his body slammed onto the dirt road. His partners in crime exchanged panicked looks, their heads darting from left to right before more shots rang out, and soon, all of them fell.
A swarm of agents appeared off in the distance, on both left and right sides of the fields surrounding the dirt road. They held their guns high as they approached the scene with much caution. Three helicopters appeared on the horizon, seeming like small birds. It wasn't long before their metal wings sliced the air with a steady hum and rhythm overhead as the pilots searched for an area to touch down. Meanwhile, a long line of black cars sped towards us with lightning speed, halting to a stop right before the first car was about to slam into the SUV Mariaed in the middle of the road.
Well," Michael began, a hint of amusement in his voice," that was quite the welcoming committee." I relinquished my vice-like grip on his arm but his hand trailed downwards with mine, his fingers finding the spaces between my own before he gave my hand a tight squeeze. A smile came onto my face and his expressions echoed mine.
"Looks like the countryside was a bad idea after all," he half-laughed.
My chest swelled up at that statement. The butterflies over the hand-holding, the adrenaline from the attack, the fear of Michael losing his life for me--all of it vanished.
"I My poetic analogies are so romantic, I would conquer at poetry readings
* * * Michael and I were seated on the edge of an ambulance as a paramedic agent finished tying up yet another white cloth, though this third one was wrapped around my forearm. It turned out that jumping out of a car onto rocks and dirt gave me some pretty bad wounds. I know, right? What a shocker.
Michael was swabbing cream onto the cuts on his face as I waited for the paramedic to finish. I winced as she secured the cloth.
"Does it sting?" the paramedic asked in concern, immediately removing her hands. "Movement will cause pain," she said, giving me an apologetic smile. She took a step back and brushed her hands together, signaling a job finished. "You're going to need to remove your bandages twice a day, once in the morning and once at night. Make sure to apply the ointments I've listed and try not to slam your wounds against anything."
I thanked her for her help, and the paramedic gave a swift bow before walking off to talk to an agent in the distance.
"Banks," Michael spoke up. "I need you to come here." I scooted closer to my bodyguard until we were both sitting cross-legged, facing each other with our knees touching. He took my chin in between his fingers while he began gently smoothing a thin layer of the antibiotic cream over the cuts on my faces and hands. There was a slight burn every time he applied the cream, but a cooling sensation followed. Once Michael caped the tube, I no longer felt the sting of my cuts.
"Feeling better?" he asked, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.
Michael's eyes rolled so far back into his head that they might've gotten stuck there. "You're never going to give me a straight answer, are you?"
"Are you kidding me?" a voice nearby snorted. "She's a Banks. That clan strives for complicated." I whipped my head towards the boy who approached us, and suddenly all I could feel was a flooding sensation of absolute joy. In a matter of seconds, I had shot off the ambulance to pull the boy into my arms.
"P-Maria," the kid choked. "I c-can't breathe!" Finally, Michael gave an awkward little cough, prompting me to loosen my arms. However, my hands cupped the boy's face, taking in every angle that he grew into, noticing that his glasses had gotten thicker and he had cut his hair. Long brown strands no longer fell into his dark eyes but instead were swept upwards, revealing the crinkles on the corners of his eyes.
"Michael," I said, facing my bodyguard with a humongous smile on my face, "meet Jasper Bishop. He's Elijah's half-brother."
For a moment, I saw Jasper's own grin slip before the corners of his lips quickly tugged upwards again. If Michael saw, he didn't show it. His eyes were watching me instead, an almost curious glint in his goldlike gaze before they flickered over to Jasper. Michael smiled and hopped off the ambulance to stride over to us.
My bodyguard gave a swift bow to Jasper. "It's a pleasure to meet you," he said, holding out a hand. Jasper never attended a single event without me, and I had never recalled seeing my archenemy anywhere in Egypt. That was good. His lack of knowledge on Jasper's life was quite a lucky thing. Jasper clasped Michael's hand. "I should be saying that. Aren't you Michael Cross, that prodigy agent everyone talks about all the time?"
"The one and only," I answered in place of Michael, swinging my arm around his shoulders. "He's not so intimidating, though. He knows the lyrics to 'Call Me Maybe.'" Michael gave me a look, one that said you're-not-helping. I was tempted to keep on going and mention his extensive knowledge on One Direction's songs, but I relented to his glare. "Where's my parents, by the way?" I asked. "I figured they'd be the first on the scene, not you."
Jasper, however, was spared the trouble of answering for a shrill voice cut through the air. "I don't care!" the woman snarled. We all cringed at the piercing volume of the words. "You find out who's behind this or so help me, Robert--"
The owner of said voice marched around the ambulance Michael and I had been sitting on, a murderous rage on her face as she chewed out poor Robert. She halted in front of us, and for a moment, it seemed as though she was about to bark at us as all when the fury melted away.
"Maria!" Giselle Banks cried in relief, rushing forward to pull me into her arms. "Oh, sweetheart, you're okay!"
I wrapped my arms tightly around my mother, wondering when I had gotten as tall as her. "It's nice to know you still have such a sweet voice," I snickered. She pulled back, a pout on her lips. "Now, is that what you say to your mother who you haven't seen face to face in two years?" she asked. Her tone grew softer and tender with every word, and her fingers brushed back my hair. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes as she smiled and bit her lip.
"You've grown so much. Look at you--two years and you're almost taller than me. Your hair's gotten so long and--"
"Aunt Giselle, is it really necessary for you to do this every time you see her?" Jasper groaned. I didn't look much like my mother. The dominant genes in my family were those of my father's, so I had inherited his dark hair and eyes, his half-smile, and his love for recklessness, his tendency to get in trouble every corner he turned.
I had her heart-shaped face, though, but I lacked her thick auburn hair, which fell in natural wisps around her face. I lacked her full lips, her rosy complexion, and her bottle-blue eyes. But from my parents, I learned how to stand tall and proud. My mother was the very essence of regality, and she had taught me how to present myself as though I was the ruler of the world.
"I can practically recite every word you say," Jasper continued, laughing as my mother dragged him over to pinch his cheeks.
"How about you learn to pay a compliment to your--"
"Michael Cross!" she exclaimed. "Oh, my gods, you've gotten so handsome, I didn't even realize who you were!" "Mother," I sighed, feeling second-hand embarrassment as my mother, the future queen of Egypt, cooed over my bodyguard, pinching and poking at his face as Michael's complexion changed into a fantastic scarlet.
"I remembered how cute you were, following around Maria, and now you're all grown up!" She was giggling at this point, and even Jasper was looking uncomfortable. "Maria, you and him look absolutely darling together!"
"Mother," I repeated, this time with more force behind my words. My mother sent me a deep frown, and I felt as though I was the nasty adult intervening on a child's recess when a screech of tires was heard. It was a noise so shrill that everyone clasped their ears and turned north.
A black car had come to a halt right behind the yellow "caution" tapes. Before the engine even cut off, a figure tumbled out of the black SUV and nearly tripped over his own feet. When he got up, he nearly walked straight into an agent and did a quick twirl before smacking straight into the agent that climbed out of the car behind him.
"He's beauty, he's grace," Jasper snorted as we watched my father and the agent apologize profusely for getting in each other's way. "I'd finish and say that he's Miss United States, but clearly we're not in America," I said, watching my father begin to search for me. His head bobbed up and down in the crowd until finally, his gaze landed on me. My father made a beeline straight for our group, nearly crashing into a dozen of people before he stopped before us.
"I'm so sorry!" my father sobbed, and once more, I was in another embrace. "It's all my fault! I should've made sure those agents were capable! Elijah and I should've taken more precautions! We were careless and now you're hurt because of us!"
"You also owe me fifty euros, Uncle," Jasper muttered. My father pulled back, his eyes taking in every cut and bruise on my face. "I need you to tell me everything. Who were the flight attendants? How many agents were at the airport? What happened in the car?"
"Love," my mother said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Maria needs her rest. We can speak about this at home, can't we? Away from prying eyes and ears?"
My father hesitated for a moment, his gaze bouncing from my mother to me to the area we were in. His eyes grew sharp with every passing second before he exhaled deeply. "Let's get the little Banks back to her nest then."
He gave me a swift kiss on the forehead before marching away, heading straight towards one of the agents. My mother watched him go, giving a deep sigh as she decided, "I better come with him. He makes rash decisions whenever he's nervous." She cast her look to Michael. "Watch my daughter, Michael. Make sure she doesn't sneak off."
"You know, I'm not a danger-seeking idiot. How stupid would I have to be if I leave right after this?" I scoffed.
"You're Maria Banks," she smiled "I think you're just trouble-bound."
"Really," I grumbled as my mother turned on her sharp heels and strode away, "it's almost as though none of you have faith in me."
"Maria," Jasper spoke up, "you have purposely snuck out of the palace once to participate in a fight even though you had just been shot." "That's not seeking out danger, that's being--"
"Reckless?" Jasper finished.
"Just to let you know, I won't be saving your life in future events," I huffed.
"That is actually quite possibly the best investment you'll ever make. Almost as good as stock investments in Google," Jasper mused, grinning cheekily at me. I just rolled my eyes. Almost as good. About an hour and a half later, the car came to a smooth stop. I pulled one of my headphones out of my ears and listened to my father thank the driver before getting out. The agents that flanked Michael and me opened their doors and hopped down.
As I climbed out of the car, I met a bright sunlight that blinded me for a second or two before I adjusted my gaze. Then, I realized I was standing in the round courtyard in front of the palace. Far ahead of me was the front garden, and even farther ahead was the long black gate that stretched around the perimeter of the palace.
I could see the towering forest lying on the outermost edges of the palace grounds. The Egyptn Palace had been built in the woods, far away from Riveria City, and it lay near the base of the Karvaggen Mountains. It had been built in secret, unknown by the civilians of the kingdom, and its construction was ordered by Ignatius the First, who had been terrified of enemy attacks on his castle in the sea, so he built a second home.
It was one of the grandest buildings in the kingdom, reconstructed every century to make sure the palace was never out of date or in danger of crumbling. It was a towering building, ten stories tall with each level containing ceilings that stretched higher and higher every level you climbed. The architecture was of Greek design, with the Egyptn crimson flag hanging from brass poles from the stone columns, fluttering softly in the breeze.
I walked up to the long, marble fountain set in the middle of the round courtyard. It was over seven feet tall, and it depicted a slim warrior standing on neck of a dragon with his sword raised high. Water poured from the dragon's mouth and dripped off its white wings, collecting together into a crystalline pool at the ground.
"I haven't been here in so long," I heard Michael murmur to himself. I cocked my head to the side, ransacking my memories to find out if I had any recollection of Michael's presence in the palace, or a mention by my mother. She always told me about who visited during our phone calls--who was over for one of her famous brunches or who had dropped by for a visit. If she told me about her days--every exact detail--it would make her feel as though I had been there, experiencing her day with her.
