Dominion by Melody Manful.pdf

Dominion

Melody Manful

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is

purely coincidental.

Find the author on twitter @melodymanful and Goodreads.

For more information, glossary, original music and contact, visit the author’s website.

www.melodymanful.com

Illustrations by Daniel Kordek (front cover and medallion) and Andrey Kaliuzhny (back cover print

edition: rose)

ISBN: 0615739458

ISBN-13: 978-0-615-73945-8

PROLOGUE

I should have called the police the moment I woke up, but what was I going to say? “Hello? 911?

Help! I think I’m going to die because I had a dream that I died.” Yeah, even in my head I sounded

ridiculous.

What happened to me was horrifying, but no one read about it in the newspapers because it never

happened.

“It was only a dream.” That was what everyone kept telling me. But everyone was wrong. I died

that night. I was murdered in a firestorm.

One single, white lie wasn’t supposed to bring with it a lifetime of obstacles. I lied. I said yes when

I was supposed to say no .

I committed a crime. I should have been handcuffed, sentenced to life in prison, executed even.

Anything would have been better than the punishment I served because of that little white lie.

“You’re such a terrible liar, Abigail.” This was what everyone I knew said whenever I tried to tell

a lie, but then again, everyone I knew then knew nothing. I wasn’t crazy. No, honestly, before I found

myself in wacko-land, I was a walking ray of sunshine. Everything in my over-idolized life was perfect.

Until he came.

First, I thought, Finally, someone to chase away the monsters underneath my bed . But as it turned

out, he didn’t come to chase them away. He was the monster.

He was also my guardian angel.

BETTER THAN A HALLELUJAH

*Gideon*

“ You see what power is – holding someone else’s fear

in your hand and showing it to them.”

Amy Tan –The Kitchen God’s Wife.

“... S houldn’t have been the—” A woman on the phone rushed by without noticing me because she

quite literally couldn’t see me.

I stood, invisible, beside a traffic light somewhere in New York City, staring at the cars passing by

and at the people running for shelter because of the heavy rain pummeling the city.

A Lumenian guardian angel stood beside me with his énas, a seven-year-old boy named Paul. The

boy and his mother had been shopping for a new school bag, and his guardian angel was stuck following

them around. Paul was like the puppeteer, the guardian the puppet, so wherever the boy pulled his strings,

the angel followed.

Times like this made me realize my happiness in being a different kind of guardian angel—the kind

who did everything but guard.

“Gi-Gideon,” the angel stuttered the moment his eyes met mine. He knew what was coming. As a

Grandinian angel, it was my job to try and hurt the human being guarded, and it was the Lumenian angel’s

job to try and save the human.

I never missed a target, so whenever the guardian angels sensed my presence, they knew that their

end was near.

Paul and his mother, a young woman in her early thirties, stood in front of me among a crowd who

waited for the walk sign to change. Paul was circling his mother and singing a childish song. She pulled

his yellow raincoat’s hood over his ball cap.

The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the waterspout.

Dammit, I had the boy’s stupid song stuck in my head.

Down came the rain and washed the spider out.

What was the next line again? Oh yeah…

Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.

Typical human nature for the sun to show up and dry up the rain.

And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.

That’s one stupid spider.

Ahead on a busy road, a Ferrari braked at a red light, rock music rattling its closed windows. Two

punk teenagers sat in the car bobbing their heads to the song.

Looking at the young boy and at the sports car, I snapped my fingers. Instantly, the walk sign

changed to the white silhouette of a person walking. Without looking or waiting for his mother, the little

boy pushed through the crowd at the curb and sped his way toward the street.

“Paul!” the boy’s mother shouted, running after him, but the boy was too far ahead. She forced her

way through the crowd, hurrying to reach him.

I looked at the boy and snapped my fingers once more. Instantaneously, the Ferrari surged forward

with force toward the boy. His guardian angel appeared beside him. I could hear him whispering, “Turn

and go to your mother, Paul,” but the boy was young and stupid, not listening to the voice in his head that

was supposed to be his instinct.

The driver tried to brake, but the car fishtailed through the intersection, with the teenagers yelling in

panic.

The boy’s guardian angel tried to stop the car, but it all transpired too quickly. The driver blared

his horn as Paul froze in shock upon seeing the car. The Ferrari accelerated and veered right, the driver

still blowing his horn. His mother screeched for him to get out of the way. But in a fraction of a second,

the gap between the little boy and the car closed.

There was a loud thwack as the car collided with the boy. His body flew into the air, and with a

harsh thunk , he hit the ground. The car’s horn continued to blare.

The humans around me started screaming in shock as Paul’s mother reached her son. Her eyes were

fixed on the boy, who lay in a pool of his own bright blood.

“Paul!” his mother sobbed. People on the sidewalk crowded the scene. Everyone who saw him

grew tearful. I, on the other hand, stood invisible, analyzing everything.

Humans! I never understood why they automatically felt sad for people they didn’t even know.

The boy’s guardian angel stood now, staring at me with fear. I was sure he knew what was coming;

I knew he’d heard about me. All angels had.

“Gideon, please…” Those were the angel’s last words before the ball of fire I threw burned him to

ashes.

I didn’t take a second look at the boy or the ashes of his guardian angel as I flew into the air. I could

hear the sirens wailing, drawing closer to the scene of the accident, but I didn’t wait around to find out

what would happen next. At full speed, I flew away from Earth and made my way home.

Home. I’d heard that it’s where the heart is, but since I didn’t have a heart, it became where my

family was.

It didn’t take me long to reach my home planet Grands. Grands was located at the mid-point

between Hell and Earth. The planet was a realm covered in darkness. The surrounding cities in the

kingdom looked dead, clinging to it like forsaken slums. The kingdom was filled with smoke and dust.

Everything was in ruins. The atmosphere was always foggy, and awful howls and screams were often

heard.

Grands was ruled by a monarchy: King Daligo, his wife, Queen Lailah, and their daughter,

Princess-something–I didn’t remember. We Grandinians were a race of dark angels who brought trouble

and harm to the humans on Earth.

I was on my way home when I heard noises coming from below me, so I took a detour toward the

noise.

Upon arriving, I saw four Grandinian angels, hovering in the air. I could see they weren’t a day

older than thirteen.

“No, from what I saw, they had two teams. I think they called them Barcelona and Real Madrid,”

one of the boys said.

“Where I was, the children had a football.” The moment the angel said this, a football appeared in

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