Disclaimers: I do not own the 39 Clues, only my own ideas.
Fear of Fear
Out of all the ways to die, Ian Kabra couldn't believe that he had to resort to anything more vulgar than this.
Taking a bullet through the heart would have been his preferred method; it's a quick death.
Getting poisoned would be pathetic. He's been playing with dangerous substances since he could crawl.
Even taking a knife in the back would be better than the little situation he was in now.
Hell, he would rather die in his sleep than to be torn apart by the unsightly beast growling in front of his face.
He could almost see the mocking headline of the Cahill newspaper the next morning:
Mighty Lucian Leader Mauled by Late Madrigal's Harmless Hairball
He would put the name Kabra to shame.
The animal's breath reeked of his supper of red snappers. Ian felt the hair on his neck bristle as the abhorrent Egyptian Mau crept closer.
He was never quite fond of animals; back in London, Natalie used to have a little pink poodle named Princess that yipped at every living thing in her way and had a tendency to chew on designer clothes. Ian remembered the day when he came back from a business meeting to find his favorite Armani polo in tattered pieces, covered in dog slobber.
Cats were no different. In fact, he loathed them more than cotton. He regretted not using the opportunities he had at the Cahill conference to poison the hideous cat's food or inject a deadly poison that could kill an elephant in seconds.
Now, he was alone in the Madrigal library, cornered by a cat, while everyone is two floors down, enjoying the party. He had hoped to steal some peace and quiet upstairs, but the solace retreat turned out to be the grave mistake of his life.
The cat looked prepared to rip his throat out. Saladin unsheathed his claws, and barred his teeth out in a menacing growl.
Ian couldn't recall what he's done that provoked the gray devil so much. Ian first met the appalling creature during Grace's funeral. It was hate at first sight.
Ian contemplated his options. He had no weapons. The poisonous dart gun was in his jacket, which he carelessly left in his room. He had nowhere to run. Ian was backed up against the wall. To the left was another smooth white wall; to the right, a shelf of books stacked intricate, creating a barrier. In front of him stood an angry cat that had his paw poised, ready to slash at his expensive leather loafers.
His hand snatched the largest book he could find. His hand landed on a soft leather-bounded volume. It happened to be King Arthur, the title etched on with fancy gold lettering. Ian swatted the irritated monster with the ancient text.
That was the second mistake that Ian made that day.
The book grazed Saladin on the right ear, and the irked cat pounced on the terrified Brit.
"Mrrrrp!"
It suddenly became a tangle of fur and blood. Ian felt the beast slash his face ruthlessly, as if saying, this is for that time you stepped on my tail. This is for that night when you locked me in the attic. This is for the time when you knocked over my red snappers.
Ian flailed his arm in terror. He, the great Lucian bad boy, was afraid of the tiny gray feline.
He grabbed Saladin's belly, trying to tug the cat off. The creature's claws sank deep into his tuxedo, holding on with a death grip.
Ian shook as hard as he can. He finally was able to pry the cat's devious claws from his suit, a shred of black fabric dangling in the cat's paw.
He could feel the gash on his face radiating pain. His sleeves were scratched by Saladin's razor sharp claws, and silver cat fur lined Ian's expensive trousers.
He dropped the cat in distaste. Before he could fully let go, Saladin turned his head and sank his teeth into Ian's left arm.
"Arrrrgggghhhh! Bloody demon! Let go!"
Ian helplessly swatted the cat with a book but he held on persistently.
In frustration, Ian dropped the heavy book on the gray cat. Saladin held on, unwilling to let go of Ian's arm. The heavy novel crashed onto the floor, landing in a thump.
Near the front of the room, the French doors of the library creaked opened, and in walked a girl.
She spotted Ian in the corner, scratched and bruised with a cat dangling on his arm.
Her face was shocked, but a hint of amusement was struggling not to show beneath the worry.
"Saladin! Get down right now!" Amy commanded as she hurried over to Ian.
The gray furball released its grip and plopped onto the carpet indifferently. Saladin then stalked off, not without giving Ian a look of triumph.
"Oh.. my... I'm s-so sorry about Saladin," Amy looked at Ian with concern. She surveyed the accident. Her green eyes looked at the scratch on Ian's face and frowned.
"Are you ok? Let's go get something on that nasty cut."
Ian nodded mutely, too embarrassed to say anything. He followed the redhead out of the library into the twisting hallways of the Cahill mansion.
They stopped short at room on the end of the hallway, and Ian recognized it as Amy's bedroom. She immediately took out a bottle of clear liquid and a cotton swab. Ian sat down on a chair, glad that the demon cat was finally gone.
Amy sat down next to Ian and slowly raised the swab to his face. The sudden contact of the icy liquid with his wound made him flinch. It stung badly, but Ian bit his cheek to keep from squirming.
After a few more painful dabs, Amy slathered a colorless cream over the cut. "Just in case. It certainly would give me trouble when the Lucians see that a maniacal Madrigal cat scratched up their leader's face." Amy bit her lip, suppressing a laugh.
Ian scowled. "That's not funny! That monster of yours needs to be locked up in a cat asylum!"
Amy couldn't contain her amusement. "Ian Kabra, afraid of a cat?"
Ian felt his face heat up, a red blush creeping up slowly on his tanned skin. As lethal and deadly he could be, he hated to admit that his biggest fear was of small, domesticated felines.
They sat there, drowned in a lasting silence.
"...Um, thanks for saving me from my, as you Americans called it, near-death experience."
Amy flushed, cheek colored slightly crimson. Her scarlet face matched the color of her deep red gown. "That was nothing."
"Can you do me a favor?"
Amy looked puzzled. "...Ok?"
"You...you can't tell anyone about this...incident. Especially not Dan." Ian could picture Amy's dweeb of a brother blackmailing him with the fear of cats.
"Well, sure."
"Thanks, love."
Amy giggled. "Ian, everybody has a fear. It's normal."
Ian looked relieved.
"Oh, and don't call me that." Amy added, her already red face deepening by tenfold.
Ian left the room, and headed towards his guest room down the hall. He tossed his tattered clothes into the trash, and pulled out another suit. He quickly changed and smoothed out his ruffled black hair.
Ian made his way back downstairs to the crowd. He could see that many were dancing in the middle of the room, in pairs, moving to the soft music. Ian spotted Amy down by the DJ booth, talking to Jonah.
"Yo, wassup, cuz?" Jonah greeted Ian and fist-bumped him. The famous rapper was obviously having a good time as he rocked back and forth to the beat of the music.
"Mind if I steal Amy for a while?" Ian smirked.
Jonah raised his brow and winked. "Go for it, my homie."
Ian took Amy's hand and whisked her onto the dance floor. Others parted way and made room for the two prominent Cahills. They swayed slowly to the music; soaking in their surrounding.
The two were silent for a while. Ian caught the eye of Natalie, who snatched a truffle off of a plate of desserts. She stood near the edge of the room, and gave him a look of amusement at the sight of Amy. Natalie eyed the scratch on Ian's face inquisitively; Ian simply gave her a shrug. She rolled her eyes before disappearing into the mass of Cahills. Seeing his snobby sister, Ian had an idea on a whim.
"You know, I guess you were right about everyone having fears," Ian started.
"There's this one thing I've been afraid to do for a long time..."
Amy looked at Ian curiously. "What is it?"
"Well..." Ian leaned forward slowly.
He dipped his head, then gently pecked Amy's lips.
The kiss lasted for a brief moment. When he pulled away, Ian felt Amy look away.
Fool. Look what you got yourself into.
Just when Ian was about to apologize for his irrational behavior, Amy abruptly interrupted him.
"You know, you're not the only one." Amy muttered faintly under her breath; just loud enough for Ian to hear.
She stood on her toes to make herself taller. She planted a small kiss on his lips that were slightly parted in surprise.
Ian wasn't sure if today was the worst day or best day of his life.
"The key to change...is to let go of fear."
-Rosanne Cash
This is my entry for Meg Cahill's Save Saladin contest. I hope y'all enjoyed this! Reviews would make my day :)
Fun fact: Phobophobia is the fear of phobias or fears.
Happy Thanksgiving! I hope you all had a good meal. Did you eat turkey or ham?
-M