A/N

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited, and followed so far. It means a lot to me-more than I can say. As a thank you, here is the second chapter of The American Files: Grace Angeram. I hope you enjoy it as much as the last!

(A special thanks to those who reviewed: Dice, M. N. Marquette, CeresMaria, mezvers, and Biku-sensei. Your comments had me smiling and laughing. I'd thank all those who have followed and favorited too, but that might take awhile. Instead, I'll simply say thank you; seeing the messages in my inbox warmed my heart.)


Chapter 2—Shadows Plotting

Grace's mouth opened as the echo of Yusuke Urameshi's voice crawled up the stairs. She tried to pull her voice out of her chest, but it was stuck. No, dad! She screamed in her mind. How would he know to shut the door in his face? What if he let him in?

"Who wants to know?" Her dad said congenially, but she could almost feel his suspicion. She threw her head back against the carpet and let out a sigh. Thank goodness—he was in touch with the world at the moment.

"I'm Yusuke Urameshi. I go to her school."

And I'm a psychotic murderer, Grace finished in her head, and clutched the carpet fibers between her fingers. A few strings caught on the chips in her nails.

"Yusuke, huh?" Her dad's voice dropped a pitch. Less congenial. He was going into Overprotective Dad mode. A mode she had rarely ever seen. "You're the transfer student from Japan?"

"Um, yeah, actually." There was the slightest pause. "Can I talk to her?"

Grace rolled a little, getting nearer to her door to hear better. Her limbs were as limp as a stuffed doll's.

"I'm afraid not, son." He sounded less like her dad, and more like Mr. Angeram now. "I've heard a lot about you from my daughter and I can say in no uncertain terms that you are not welcome in this house. Good bye."

The door hinges whined, long and loud, before suddenly cutting off. Grace's heart jumped back into her throat, crouching, waiting.

"Listen old man, I don't want this to get ugly, but I have no problem beating you down if I have to."

She went white as a sheet. Time for the police.

Grace threw herself up and struggled toward her bed. She leaned on the thick mattress and, shaking as she did, picked up the house phone. She could hear the arguing escalating downstairs; her fingers trembled as she darted in the three necessary digits.

It took too long for the call to go through, but she babbled and hurled out the story the moment she heard a voice on the line. The person tried to throw in questions, but she pushed passed the mature voice and listed out the location of the murder, and her address, her dad's name and her own, and Yusuke Urameshi's.

"Back down, GRANDPA!" Yusuke's voice rattled through her from downstairs. "I don't want to break your face but I will if you keep getting in my way!"

The person on the other line apparently heard. "I've dispatched a squad. They'll be there in under a minute."

"Thank you," She wheezed, and let the phone drop onto the receiver. She was so glad she had talked her dad out of getting rid of the home phone too. She could just imagined being stranded here like this, cornered by a crazy, Japanese gang member.

A crash sounded from downstairs. Her fingertips went ice cold and she turned her head slowly, like it was made of stone, to look over her shoulder.

"Gracie!" Her dad's voice was loud and terrified.

A crack from below. Then thumping came from the stairs. She dropped to the ground and, almost instinctually, shoved herself under the bed. Her bedroom door flew open.

Her breathing was too loud. Surely he could hear it. Grace ignored the lint and touched her chin to the ground, placing her hands over her mouth. She was getting dizzy again—her lungs were squeezing. She needed her inhaler. She needed air. She needed the police.

His shoes moved about her room. She curled herself into a ball. Give up, she thought hard, like it would make it real. I'm not here, I'm not here.

He swore lightly. His tone wasn't exactly angry, like she expected it to be. It was just annoyed. She heard a grumbled sigh before he paced back towards her door. There was a clicking noise, a touch of static, and then a voice completely unfamiliar.

"What's the problem, Yusuke?" The voice sounded like it was coming from a device. Kind of crackly, like a phone with a bad signal. "Have you taken care of the demon or not?"

Her heart tumbled down her throat and plummeted into her stomach. Oh no. He had contacted his gang already. Now her dad would be in danger too. Where the heck were the police?

"Calm down, baby breath." Yusuke said. "You're stupid human trafficker's wasted in an alleyway. Now listen, I've got a problem. Some American girl saw me taking him out and now I can't find her."

"WHAT?" The audio crackled with the screech. "You lost her? Oh great, dad's going to give me a million spankings for this one."

"Geez, calm down Koenma! Just send Hiei over and he'll wipe her mind and we can all go have a freakin' picnic back in Japan, okay?"

There was a pause. Grace listened to the light static, her hands growing moist with her breath, and tried to compute the conversation to memory. She needed to tell the cops this. But—what? Spankings, demons? It had to be code. Demons must have been their rival gang or something. And now the gang leader was going to send someone to "wipe her memory"? With what, a lead pipe? She swallowed a hysteric scream and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Easier said than done, Yusuke. How am I supposed to convince him to go all the way to America? I can hardly get him to report to me in Spirit World!"

What was with all the funny names? And why bother importing someone from Japan when they could pay off someone here to take her head to a saw? She bit her bottom lip. The taste of hot metal erupted in her mouth, but she ignored it.

"Yeah, yeah. Just threaten to tell Yukina about them being brother and sister, that ought to do it. If not, I'll fly back and force him here myself." Yusuke drawled, pacing about. Heavy knocks sounded from below. "Crap. Police. The old man must have gotten to a phone—thought I knocked him out cold.

Dad! Grace chewed through the blood on her lip. She was starting to sweat again; her stomach was turning with the heat.

"How about you ask Hiei? He never listens to me." The other person murmured.

"Grow a pair, would yah toddler?" Yusuke shouted. A large crack came from below—Grace jumped. Yusuke's feet swiveled. "Got to go, Koenma. And you can probably remove my records from the school, I think it's safe to say I'm not going back there." Another click. The pounding of feet. Yusuke sighed and ran to the other side of her bed. He was trying for the window, then.

Grace tried to wriggle out by the door. The police! She had to tell them everything she'd heard—find her dad, make sure he was alright. Tears burned her eyes as her breathing became sparse. Suddenly, something caught her ankle, and she screamed as she flew back under the bed and out the other side.

Yusuke swore again, "You are way too hard to find." He was pouting a little, annoyed still.

"Put your hands in the air!" A burly voice called. Grace sucked in oxygen as she listened to the sound of guns cocking. "Now!"

Yusuke held onto her ankle and looked up. He didn't even bat an eye. "Come on, seriously?" He rubbed the back of his head and sighed. "Hell."

"Hands in the air!" The police hollered again. "Now!"

Yusuke let her ankle go and lifted his hands lamely, frowning and moving to the side. Closer to the window. Grace opened her mouth to warn the police, but the next moment he was blurring out the window—how did he unlock it that fast?—and her mouth was posed around useless words. The police threw themselves forward, two leaning out the small frame at once, guns extended. Grace winced and curled into herself, hands pressed to her ears, as shots rang out. They were explosions in her inner ear. She felt sick. She was going to vomit.

"Enough!" One of them shouted. It sounded like a woman, but Grace couldn't be sure with her head still ringing. "He's gone. Get someone on the ground after him—" Shoes turned near her head. Then the popping of knees. A hand touched her arm and she jumped. "Grace Angeram?"

She nodded and rolled slowly to meet the gaze of a dark-skinned, female police officer. She placed a hand on Grace's shoulder, steadily, and met her in the eyes.

The woman helped her downstairs. Everything was still swirling. She kept trying to say, "Inhaler," and, "Dad," but her mouth wasn't working anymore. She swallowed hard as the officer sat her down on the couch in her living room, and kneeled in front of her. She met her in the eyes again, steady again, and tried for a smile.

"I know a lot's just happened to you," She said slowly, giving her time to digest, "But I need you to tell me everything you can remember."

She had paid strict attention so she could do just that. She sucked back the horror and tears. Her lips finally separated, but when the words finally flowed, all she could say was, "Dad. My dad. Where is he?"

The officer searched her eyes, turned her head, and hollered for another police officer. A young, wiry man came over. They said things. Grace knew they were saying important things, but that's all it looked like to her—words, things, stuff. She bit at her lip again. Dad. Where was her dad?

The tears built in her eyes as she tried to force them back. She couldn't lose another parent. She couldn't do it.

The woman turned back to her and smiled, placing her hands on her knees reassuringly. "He's fine. He's unconscious, but the medic says he's fine—just a bruise on the back of his head is all."

She let out a strangled breath and bowed her head. Her ponytail fell over her shoulders with a heavy tug. Thank goodness. She pictured his silhouette against the afternoon sun—the stained pajama shirt, the cracked laptop, his glass of chocolate milk and occasional bag of cheez-puffs—and relaxed a small amount. She'd see that again. She'd still have someone left.

"Grace. Grace, I need you to look at me."

She obediently raised her head.

The officer smiled again. "Now, can you tell me what exactly happened?"

It took her a couple moments, but Grace managed to relay everything her scattered mind could hold onto. The blast in the alley, the pool of (purple?) blood, Yusuke coming after her when she ran, him assaulting her dad, rushing into her room, talking to what she was sure was the gang leader on some sort of phone. Everything she could gather, she spat right out, and waited as the officer loaded the information into her brain. The woman took out a notebook when her brain must not have been able to suffice, and jotted down key points until she finally finished the tale.

"Sounds like a lot to go through in one day." The officer stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Now, are you alright? Do you need anything?"

She licked the wounded place in her lip. "My inhaler. My bag."

"Do you know where they are?"

She scrunched her eyes closed. Think, think. "Inhaler's probably in my room. I dropped my bag when I was running home."

"I'll see what I can do." The woman left and traveled upstairs. The crackling of walkie-talkies grew louder in her absence.
The woman brought back her inhaler and promised to keep an eye out for her bag. Soon, most of the police trailed away, out of her peripheral vision like seeds caught on the wind. Night slowly sunk in through the windows. Grace stayed on the couch, hands on her knees, breath roiling around in her head.

The female police officer stayed, along with her partner—a dark haired young man with a wide face. They said something about watching over the house overnight to keep her and her dad safe. Grace didn't respond. They left through the front door to stake out the place in their car. She waited.

Her dad roused at nearly ten o' clock. He muttered something about needing to finish the new website layout, along with a few email addresses that were probably imperative. Grace ignored him and helped him up the stairs to bed. The master bedroom looked like something from a furniture ad. Everything was clean, untouched. Frozen in time. For the first time in months, her dad slept in the bed. Grace left without looking at the rows of female clothes gathering dust in the open closet, or the makeup still left out on the vanity.

She wandered down stairs. She didn't want to go in her room. On the couch she found the remote, gathered her dad's Lord of the Rings blanket around her until she was cocooned, and turned on Star Trek: The Next Generation. She fell asleep to the sound of Picard warring with the Borg—the sound of her childhood.

O.O.O.O

It was too warm. Grace struggled against the blanket holding her hostage, struggling for breath, and pushed until her shoulders were uncovered. Once the air hit, she could feel how wet her tank top now was. It smelled hot and salty, like her sweat. She licked her lips and slowly peered into the darkness.

Grace blinked several times. Everything had a purple hue. The room was dissolving, bit by bit, into mush. She squeezed her eyes shut, pushing against the fog, and opened her eyes again. Something was in front of her. She narrowed her eyes to cut through the purple. Night didn't usually look like this. Had her dad come down and plugged in her alien night light? She couldn't even remember the last time she'd seen that thing. And her dad was hopeless at finding . . .

Her eyes finally adjusted, and she found a pair of legs into front of her. Shining black fabric rippled in the darkness. She glanced up. Her head was starting to ache. She caught sight of and elbow, and the pale luminescent form of a hand extended towards her.

She bolted back and screamed. Another hand shot over her mouth, pressing her to the couch. Yusuke. He'd snuck passed the police! His free hand came over her forehead. The world grew blurrier. Her eyes wandered up, pressing against the film of dark purple coming over her, and found the obscure highlights of a pale face.

Only one eye was visible through the shadows and haze. Grace struggled to breathe. Her lungs were seizing. Where was her inhaler? Where were the police? The eye flickered, caught the light, and burned red in the dark.

"It'll be over in a moment, human." A deep, ethereal voice scratched through the darkness.

The voice was convincing. Grace felt her shoulders relaxing, but the panic wouldn't ease in her head. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing it away. That wasn't Yusuke's voice. It had to be the person he'd called for—Hiei?—the gang member. Oh, no. He was going to "wipe her." She'd be nothing but a splatter by morning.

She thrust her tongue out her mouth and slobbered. The hand pulled back slightly as a sound of disgust fell through the dark. The purple dissolved into the shadows. The hand started to come back. Grace opened her mouth and bit down hard on the thumb.

"Stupid ningen!" The voice hissed, and the hand jerked. Grace screamed as she went flying, her feet throwing themselves over her head as her spine groaned. She flipped, her head catching the floor, and her weight yanked her body off the armrest, onto the ground.

She scrambled for safety. If she could get outside, she could alert the police officers standing guard. But in an instant, her plans were shot. Suddenly she was upright, caught in a brace of two thick, muscles arms, and trapped against a hard chest.

"Please!" She coughed up. "Please, just leave me alone!"

The arms didn't move an inch with her struggling. A deep, annoyed sigh fluttered through her ponytail. "Pathetic."

A burn flashed through her wrists, up her shoulders, and clouded her brain. Pathetic? Her mind raced back a year, finding purchase on the tarmac track she used to train on. She breathed a current of victory through her asthmatic lungs.

She wasn't pathetic. She was a hawk.

She threw her head back. The arms swiveled around her, the person dodging her backwards blow, and she slid her legs between his. She thrust up with her knee. The arms unlocked, the carpet hissed with the turning of his feet, until she was dangling by one arm in his hold. She threw her inertia toward the ground. The hand clung on to her, began to pull her weight up, until she let her feet slide and swung down into the arch of his legs. His balance was disrupted. She aimed a kick at his ankle—where she thought it was in the dark—when suddenly her arm wrenched out of its socket and she was soaring through the air. She screamed. Her head bounced off the back of the couch's marshmallow cushions.

"Enough games!" The voice seethed in the darkness. The hand returned to her forehead. "Relent, ningen. If you had any sense you'd see you're hopelessly outmatched."

She trembled under the strength of his hand. It felt like she was pinned by a boulder, he pressed so hard. She squeezed her eyes shut, felt her head aching, slamming, burning.

"Mom," She gasped hard. She could nearly feel the soft, delicate fingers of her mother slide over her dangling hand.

The pressure eased slightly. Grace opened her eyes, found a red pair burning out from the darkness. A purple light was emanating just half an inch above them. The gang banger's fingers eased around her hairline, though she could feel his grip still was not to be resisted.

Reasoning, she thought desperately. Maybe she could reason with him.

Gently, so he wouldn't think she was trying to start something, she took his wrist in her hands. She felt the muscles tense up his entire arm. He pressed harder again and she winced. Her head started to ache again.

"Please," She whispered. Her lungs squeezed with the effort to expel the word. "Please don't."

She tried to figure out what else to say. She couldn't promise not to tell—she already had. And she couldn't play the innocent child card, because really, she wasn't. There was nothing she could do but stare up into the ruby glint above, hoping against hope that somehow the malignant shadow would show mercy.

"Hn," there was a light scoff. The eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to hurt you, fool. Just lay there and be quiet, and it will be over in a moment."

No, her heart raced until the pace strangled her airways. He wasn't going to hurt her—he was going to rape her.

The purple light burned brighter, an eerie star in the night. "Fool. I wouldn't sully myself with the likes of you."

His words didn't compute. Grace burst into tears, the kind that were dry in her eyes and collected in her throat. She tried to breathe; her lungs refused. Air, she thought desperately. She tried to peek out the corner of her eye for her inhaler. It must be on the coffee table. It seemed so far away now. Can't breathe.

A pause ran through the tension in the shadow's arm. It pulled out of her shaking fingers, letting her head at ease. Grace threw herself off the couch, hands flying everywhere, desperate for the touch of the cool plastic contraption. Her head was melting. She could feel the air leaving her, letting her chest starve in desperation. Air, she tried to force her chest to expand, but it seemed her ribs were shrinking, forcing her lungs into a cage.

Something dropped onto her shoulder. "There." The voice said, without feeling. "Take it, weakling, before you pass out at my feet."

She caught the clattering object. Her inhaler! She pressed it into her mouth and took two puffs. Her ribs broke apart, releasing her lungs, and her throat relaxed to let the air through. She collapsed back against the couch, shaking with relief.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"Hn." A blank, uncaring reply. "A dead body would be inconvenient. Don't mistake my intentions."

He said it with the barest hint of a threat, but her heart was beating safely, and she could breathe. Despite reason and terror, she felt safer—almost at ease. He couldn't be too much of a threat if he handed her the inhaler instead of letting the asthma attack do the job for him. He must have been sent to shake her up, keep her quiet.

"Listen," She whispered, hand still tight around her inhaler. "I can't promise not to tell anyone about what Yusuke did, because I already have. The police are already on the case." It occurred to her a moment later that she might have just given him actual reason to kill her.

"I could care less." The voice prowled through the dark; hungry like an animal, but also lazy, like a lion watching a lesser threat in the distance. He was above worry. "I'm here for one purpose, and you're making it far more annoying than it needs to be. Just hold still and let me do my job so I can get out of this disgusting human world."

What, more gang code? She rubbed her forehead. It felt like it was bruised. "Yusuke sent you to "wipe me," right? You're the guy who does the dirty work?"

"Tsk," The sound was a level above boredom now. Sounded like she might have hit a nerve. "I don't do anyone's dirty work. I have a debt to pay, and that is all."

"What debt?" Keeping him talking, she thought. If she could relax him, maybe he wouldn't break out whatever he needed to "wipe her," and let her go.

"Don't attempt to distract me, woman. It's none of your concern." His hand shot out and took her forehead again. "Hold still. I'm not going to hurt you."

Grace obeyed. She clutched her inhaler, her mind whirling, trying to understand and not be so afraid. She was tired of so much fear. She just wanted to stand and shout. Shout that she was brave, that she was capable, that she wasn't alone—that, and all the other lies she had clung to over the past year.

What's going on? Grace swallowed thickly as the night before her glazed over. Tingles spread through her temples, burrowed beneath her skin. The shadow's hand felt hot against her forehead. She felt herself roll back in her own mind, falling into her own thoughts with abandon.

Gray eyes opened around her, a smile threading itself beneath them. As she fell, arms gathered her up and slowed her descent. Blue fabric weaved itself a body and collected skin until her mother was crooning around her, the soft strands of her long blond hair sweeping over her cheeks.

Grace opened her eyes. "Mom." She smiled.

Suddenly, she was wrenched back into reality with a sickening lurch. She fell forward, on her hands and knees, panting and shaking as her forehead burned. Tears spilled out her left eye as she lifted a hand to touch her forehead. She hissed as the skin screamed and cracked under her small stroke. A sound like a mouse choking came from her mouth.

She heard footsteps near her ear. They were stumbling, retreating.

"What was that?" She gasped out, raising her head. She touched the place between her eyebrows hesitantly. She winced as the shiny, smooth surface sent a firework of pain through her body.

There was no answer. Just the stilling of footsteps. Grace raised herself off her hands and sat back on her legs. She scanned the carpet until she caught the highlighted curve of a black shoe.

"What do you want?" She whispered.

There was a hard breath. She nearly winced at the sound. It was furious, vengeful—vulnerable?

"Listen ningen," the voice spat out from the blackness, "if you want to live you will keep quiet. Yusuke Urameshi never existed, you saw nothing, and I never stepped into your home. Understand."

Her arms shook in terrible hope. She nodded quickly. "Yes. I understand."

"Hn." The hand returned, but on her shoulder this time. She stumbled as it pulled her up to stand. "You so much as breathe a word of this to another soul, and I'll find you and slice you into a thousand pieces."

Grace felt her voice crumble against the walls of her throat as the shine of a blade tore through the night. She looked up, found the red eyes, and nodded hard.

He sounded like he was sneering. "Good. Now return to your bed and forget all of this."

She didn't wait for further motivation. The moment he loosened his grip, she dashed through the living room, barely staying upright as she tripped into the lamp and the side of the door, and crawled upstairs. She heard a breeze downstairs—probably the man escaping through the window—but didn't bother looking back. Her hands found her doorframe and she pulled herself inside, away from all the confusion.


A/N

And another member of the Rekai Tentai revealed! And he's my personal favorite, although that's probably obvious by now. :) Feel free to tell me what you think! Constructive Criticism is warmly welcomed, and compliments adored. But I'm on a flame-free diet for the next rest of my life, so try and control yourselves. ;) hahah

Sneak Peak:

She frowned up at the two of them. The girl must be in on it after all. "I don't know what the heck you two are getting at, but leave me alone!" She leaned toward them, hissing it like a threat she couldn't back up. "I have enough to deal with without you and your psychotic shadow guy coming in and screwing with it. I can't help you, and I promised not to spill anymore of your secrets, got it? That's all I can do. Period." She turned on her heel and headed for the door.

Yusuke caught her by the elbow. She almost tripped as he turned her around and met her in the eyes. "Sorry," he said, face serious and dangerous, "but obviously my psychotic shadow guy forgot to finish you up right, so you're gonna need to come with me." He began pulling her towards the back exit.