The MORE Trilogy (86 page)

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Authors: T.M. Franklin

BOOK: The MORE Trilogy
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Or in a ditch. I’m not picky.

She hated him. Hated her father for making her put up with him.

She sighed.

This mission would do it, though. It’d get her back in Father’s good graces, and she’d be his second, as she’d always been meant to be. She simply had to do a good job, put up with Finn—the idiot—and get back without killing him.

She could do it. She could do anything if she put her mind to it.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Finn blessedly distracted by something on his phone, and Emma let her mind wander. As usual, it drifted back to Ava and what she’d done wrong—if there was something she could have done better. She’d been so convinced that once she’d shown Ava what she was missing—that Caleb and the others were holding her back—that she’d join their cause and take her rightful place.

She’d underestimated her sister’s loyalty, obviously. Emma had to admit her judgment might have been clouded by her own excitement at having found her sister. She’d met other siblings, of course, but Ava had been the first
sister
, and she’d hoped for that closeness she’d read about in books. She’d hoped that she and Ava would become best friends.

I was so close . . .

Emma shook off her melancholy. There was no use dwelling on the past. She had to look to the future and this new opportunity to draw Ava into the fold.

They skirted the wetlands, Emma frowning as her boots squelched in the spring mud, and came to the edge of the greenbelt.

She peered through the underbrush at the back of the house and smiled when she spotted the woman on her knees in the small garden to the right.

The woman grumbled as she tugged on a stubborn weed and gave a little cheer when it came free. She tossed it into the nearly full wheelbarrow without looking.

“Stay here, out of sight for a minute,” Emma whispered to Finn. When he started to argue, she said, “Just for a minute. Let me talk to her first.”

He nodded, and she emerged from the trees, crossing the yard on light footsteps.

When the woman looked up, confused, Emma smiled. “Mrs. Michaels?”

“Yes? I’m sorry, can I help you?” She got to her feet and pulled off her gardening gloves.

“I’m Emma. A friend of Ava’s. We spoke on a phone a while back?” She was tempted to see if she could do this without using her gift, but overconfidence had been her downfall before, so she reached for it, pushed a little bit.

Yes, you know me. You trust me.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Sarah Michaels said, waving dismissively and looking flustered before reaching out to shake Emma’s hand. “I’m so sorry. You took me a little off guard.”

She looked nothing like Ava with her dark hair and blue eyes, but then she wouldn’t, would she? She wasn’t really Ava’s mother. Merely a human.

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Emma said, putting on her best innocent look. “I’m sorry to drop in uninvited like this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Any friend of Ava’s is welcome here.” Sarah’s smile fell slightly. “She’s all right, isn’t she?”

“Yes. Ava’s fine. I just . . .” She looked around the yard. “I needed to speak with you and Mr. Michaels for a moment, if that’s all right. Is he here?”

Sarah hesitated, and Emma pushed her a little more.

Everything’s fine. You trust me.

Her face smoothed. “Of course. He’s in the house. Come on inside, and we’ll have something to drink.”

Emma followed her, glancing back to see Finn starting out from the shadows of the trees. She raised a hand to still him but knew he’d probably move closer once they were inside.

She and Sarah walked through the sliding glass door, and the older woman called out to her husband as she pulled a few bottles of water out of the refrigerator.

When Ava’s dad walked into the room, she introduced them with a smile. “You remember Emma, honey, don’t you? Ava’s friend?”

He looked a little confused but held out a hand anyway. “Hello, Emma.”

“Mr. Michaels.”

“Joe, please. Call me Joe.”

The three of them stood around the kitchen island, and for a moment, Emma was filled with a sudden nostalgia—or perhaps
longing
was a better word, since she’d never actually experienced having a family like this. Ava was brought up here. Raised by parents who loved her, protected her.

Parents who never hurt her.

A twinge of pain shot through Emma, but she shook it off.

Time to move on.

“What is it you needed to talk to us about, Emma?” Sarah asked kindly, starting at something she spotted in the backyard.

Emma looked over her shoulder.

Finn stood at the back door like a stalker.

Idiot.

With a roll of her eyes, Emma waved Finn in. “This is my friend, Finn. We’re here to take you to Ava.”

“To Ava?” Joe shook his head slightly. “Why are we going to see Ava?”

Emma drew in a heavy breath and forced a wave of placid acceptance their way. “She needs you to come with us. She’s fine. You’ll be fine. But you need to get your coats and come with us now.”

They both looked a little dazed, and Emma wondered if she’d overdone the compulsion. Sometimes she didn’t even know her own power, and humans were so easy.

“Is there someone who’ll miss you if you’re gone?” she asked gently.

“Um. No, not really,” Sarah said slowly. “Mrs. Emerson next door?”

“Why don’t you call her?” Emma suggested. “Let her know you’re going on a little vacation while your husband gathers your things?”

They both nodded, and with glazed eyes and parted lips, Ava’s parents moved in slow, shuffling steps like zombies.

Emma leaned against the counter to wait as they fulfilled her instructions.

“That’s really kind of creepy,” Finn muttered.

Emma shrugged. “Gets the job done.”

After a few minutes, Sarah hung up the phone and Joe helped her into her coat. They approached Emma and stood before her, waiting expectantly.

“So weak,” Emma murmured, half to herself.

“Human,” Finn said, as though it explained everything. It did, actually.

“Well, let’s get going,” Emma said brightly as she reached for the sliding door.

For a moment, Sarah’s eyes cleared. “Where are we going?”

Emma turned back with a wave of irritation and the glazed look returned. “You don’t need to worry about that, do you?”

They nodded in unison. “We don’t need to worry about that.”

Emma smiled in satisfaction and opened the door.

“How have you been?” Madeleine asked, crumbling a cookie between her fingers. Everyone else had left, and Caleb had been tempted to follow, but he knew he had to speak with his mother. It had been too long.

“Fine,” he said. “You know. Busy.”

“On assignment,” she said wryly.

“Right.”

Madeleine put the cookie on a napkin and squared her shoulders. “I want you to know that I understand. About the Guardians.”

“Oh?” He didn’t know what else to say.

She nodded. “Given your feelings for Miss—for Ava, it makes sen—”

“This isn’t about Ava. At least not entirely.” He sat back in his seat at the dining room table, spinning the water bottle absently. “Ava may have been the catalyst, but I’ve felt this way for a while. What we were doing, how we were treating the Half-Breeds, it’s wrong.” His mother stiffened, and he hastened to say, “I know the Council has the Race’s best interests at heart. But hunting these people down—
killing
them in many cases, too many cases. What gives us the right?”

“We need to protect our people.”

“From what?” Caleb asked, his voice a near-whisper. “From them? From exposure? I mean, think about it, Mother. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Madeleine’s blue glare was icy. “You obviously don’t remember your history.”

“Oh, I remember it fine, Mother, believe me. It was pounded into me from the cradle.”

“They’re unpredictable. Uncontrollable. There’s a reason it’s
     
forbidden—”

“I know!” He caught himself and lowered his voice. He wasn’t going to argue. That wouldn’t do any of them any good. “I understand your concerns, but we can’t keep operating out of fear. The Half-Breeds are people, Mother. They deserve to be treated with some respect. They need our help, not our condemnation.”

“And what of the Race?” she asked.

“The Race will survive, as it always has,” he said gently, reaching out to lay a hand over hers. “But it can’t be at the expense of others. We’ve always prided ourselves on aiding and protecting humanity. Shouldn’t that extend to everyone, even if they’re not entirely human?”

His mother turned away but she seemed to be contemplating his words. She jumped and pulled her phone from her pocket with an apologetic look. Caleb shrugged, and she answered the phone. “Yes?”

Caleb tried not to eavesdrop on the conversation and got up to look out the kitchen window until his mother hung up.

“I’ve got to go,” she said. “I’m needed back at my office.”

“Okay.” He picked up his coat and squeezed the fabric between his fingers. “Are you all right? With . . . Gideon here?”

“I will be.” His mother looked down and took a deep breath. “I’ll do what needs to be done.” She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin.

His mother had always done her duty, and Caleb was only now beginning to understand the toll that took.

“Now, I really need to . . .” She waved her hand toward the door.

Caleb nodded. “I’ll walk with you.”

They left the house, the mountain air cooling as the sun neared the horizon. Madeleine tucked her hands in her coat pockets and Caleb glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes. They used to be so close, but now he wasn’t sure what to say to her.

His mother seemed to feel the same way, but she inhaled and let it out slowly. “You’re convinced this is our best option? This alliance?”

“It’s the only option,” he replied. “The Twelve, they’re . . . well, you saw what Ava can do, and Mother, what you saw in the Council chamber? That’s the tip of the iceberg.”

Her eyes widened. “Really?”

He nodded. “Sophie, too. Even with the block not fully removed, her cryokinetic ability is astounding. Think of what she’ll be able to do when it’s lifted.”

“And then there’s the boy,” she murmured. “Emma Reiko makes four. That means there are still eight more. We need to get Sophie and Isaiah back. And as many more as we can find, although I have no idea how to go about doing that.” She let out a frustrated grunt and swept her hair back from her face to secure it with a band at her nape.

“Actually, Ava had an idea,” Caleb said, as they rounded a corner and the Council Arena came into view. “The Twelve share DNA, so perhaps a search of our medical records might be helpful. With three samples, our scientists should be able to pinpoint some common markers, I would think.”

“It’s worth a shot. I’m willing to try anything at this point.”

“Anything?” He shot her another sidelong glance. “Even an alliance with the Guardians?”

Madeleine curled her lips into a humorless smile. “If what you’re telling me is true, and the Twelve are all that Borré designed them to be? Son, to protect our people, I’d form an alliance with the devil himself.”

Her smile fell, and Caleb realized that, to his mother, that’s exactly what she was doing. He could only imagine what it was like for her. Even being separated from Ava for such a short time and distance, her absence gnawed at him, like a missing piece waiting anxiously to be filled. And when they were reunited, it was as if everything was right—everything
fit
once again. For his parents, those feelings had to be magnified a hundredfold, and to not be able to act on them . . .

Well, it had to be painful.

Torture.

Wrong.

He got the distinct impression his mother didn’t really want to talk about Gideon, however, so he changed tacks. “What do you know about this sensor?”

“Hmm?” His mother turned to him, and he realized she’d been lost in thought.

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