The MORE Trilogy (76 page)

Silence hung heavy in the room until Sophie said quietly, “It’s all right.” She took a deep breath. “This is . . . I get that this is bigger than me.”

“You’re sure?”

Sophie exchanged a long look with Ava, who squeezed her hand and nodded. “Yeah. Lay it on me.”

Talia’s lips lifted slightly. “All right, then. Well, to put it simply, Ava was right. You are sisters. Well, half sisters anyway.”

Sophie’s eyes widened. “Really? Are you sure?”

“As sure as we can be.” Talia rose gracefully from her chair and crossed to them. “Without getting too technical about it, the tests show the two of you share a parent. And, from what we understand, it’s your father.”

“Our father.” Sophie stared at her and Ava’s clasped hands, her voice a stunned whisper. “We’re sisters?”

Caleb cleared his throat. “Well, I’m afraid there’s a bit more to it than that.”

Ava glanced at him nervously before turning back to Sophie. “It’s kind of complicated.”

Sophie shook her head with a wry snort. “More complicated than a tribe of superhuman beings living in secret and hunting down any half humans they may come across, only to come up against
other
superhuman beings who want to protect those half humans?”

Shocked silence filled the room followed by a burst of laughter.

“Okay, good point,” Ava said, still half giggling. “But yeah. It’s even more complicated than that.”

Sophie took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and ran a hand over her hair. The curls bounced back instantly, refusing to be tamed. “Well, this sounds like a bit of a story,” she said, sucking on her tongue with a loud pop. “And I think I’ll need to hear it on a full stomach. What do you all do for breakfast around here?” She looked at Gideon expectantly, and he blinked at her in surprise before a slow smile lit his face.

“I think we can rustle up something,” he said.

They left Talia’s and headed toward the common area. They loaded up plates in the kitchen, and Caleb had to smile at the way Gideon cleared the room with a look as they took their seats.

Ava sat next to Caleb and leaned in for a moment, and he sighed softly at her warmth—both from her body and the gift curling through him.

Sophie chewed on her toast and looked around the table, waiting.

Caleb had expected Gideon to take the lead, but his father deferred to Ava with a nod.

Ava started a little but took the bull by the horns. “Okay, then. So we’ve told you about the Race and the Council,” she said. “But there’s another group of Race, called the Rogues.”

“Rogues.”

“Yeah.” Ava took a deep breath. “They’re Race who don’t really want to live by the rules, see? They do their own thing, chase after power and pleasure, and pretty much mow over whoever gets in their way.”

Gideon leaned forward, elbows propped on either side of his plate. “In the past, they’ve always been a nuisance, easily dealt with by the Protectors,” he said. “Since they are, essentially, selfish, they worked alone and were therefore quickly contained.”

“But what does this have to do with me?” Sophie asked, pushing away her plate.

Caleb felt for her. He’d kind of lost his appetite, too.

“A group of them have banded together,” Ava explained. “They want to overthrow the Council and seize power. Their leader is a man named Elias Borré.” She watched Sophie carefully. “Borré is our biological father.”

Sophie collapsed back in her seat. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. Whoa. But there’s more,” Ava said, licking her lips. “Borré is a scientist, some kind of genetic genius, or something, and he set out to create these super Race soldiers—genetically engineered to be even more powerful. He took the best of the Race and he bred them to be even more.” She watched Sophie, and they all waited for what Ava said to sink in.

They didn’t have to wait long.

“You mean . . .” Sophie lifted a finger to point at Ava then herself.

“Yeah,” Ava replied. “He made us to—as cliché as it sounds—take over the world.”

“Holy—” Sophie rubbed her hands over her face. “So . . . he’s crazy?”

Gideon snorted. “Well, that’s up for debate, but sanity aside, Borré is very,
very
smart. And
very
dangerous.”

“But we’re here,” she said, flicking a glance at Ava. “We’re not going to help him.”

“There are more of us,” Ava said. “Twelve, all together.”

“How many does he have with him?”

“We’re not sure yet,” Gideon replied, frustration leaking into his voice. “We’re behind the eight ball on this one. We know Borré’s general plan but no specifics. We don’t know when or how, or who the rest of the Twelve are. We lucked out in finding you.”

Sophie leaned forward on the table and rubbed at her temples. “I can’t believe this.”

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Ava said, touching her arm. “I was you a few months ago.”

“And I was
normal
a few months ago.” Sophie continued to massage her temples. “I had a job. I was going to college. Next thing I know, I’m causing hailstorms and freezing the pipes in my bathroom.”

Caleb sat up, exchanging a look with his father. “Any idea what caused it? I mean, can you pinpoint something that may have jumpstarted your gift?”

Sophie shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I didn’t hit my head or anything. I was on the phone with my mom and we got into an argument, and before I knew what was happening, there was ice on the windows.”

“Your mom?” Ava asked. “Were you adopted?”

“Foster mom,” Sophie explained. “The last of many. I was a bit of a problem child. Why?”

Ava sighed. “They put me with adoptive parents,
human
parents, and they blocked my Race gifts. It makes sense they’d do the same with you.”

“But my gifts aren’t blocked. At least not anymore.”

Gideon leaned back in his chair, assuming his familiar position with his fingers tented in front of his lips. “You’re older than Ava. Emma, too. It’s possible that the block is simply wearing down. Maybe yours wasn’t as strong, or it could have weakened with time.”

“There’s something I don’t get. I live alone. Why wouldn’t this Borré have come for me before now? If he’s collecting these . . .” She waved a hand.

“The Twelve,” Ava said.

“Creative.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “If he’s collecting the
Twelve
, why not take me?”

“Maybe he lost you,” Ava replied. “If you’ve been shuffled around in foster homes, maybe he lost track of you.”

“Or maybe he has his own reasons,” Caleb said. “Like Gideon said, we don’t know what’s going through Borré’s mind right now.”

Sophie stood up and rubbed at the back of her neck as she walked across the room. After a moment, she turned to face them. “So Ava and I share a father. And we were bred to help him with this plan?”

Gideon nodded.

“And this, this . . . Emma, she’s one of his kids, too?”

“They all are,” Ava said with a wince. “Borré’s the father of all the Twelve. But we all have different mothers.”

Sophie froze, and when she looked at Ava, her eyes were wide with shock, or maybe fear. “Not all,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Caleb asked.

Her lip trembled and Ava took her hand. “It’s okay, you can trust us,” she said.

“I haven’t seen him in years,” Sophie said quickly. “We were separated when we were little.”

“Who?” Gideon’s voice cut through the rising tension.

She replied as if in a daze, her words low and running together. “They wanted a little boy, but two kids were too much—”

“Hold on a second,” Gideon said. “What are you talking about?”

Sophie blinked and focused once again on the Guardian leader. “Isaiah,” she said. “And if having the same father means I’m part of the Twelve, then he is, too.”

“Holy crap,” Ava murmured. “You mean—”

“Yeah. Isaiah. He’s my baby brother.”

Elias Borré sipped his double espresso, wincing at the bitter taste as he checked his watch one more time. He frowned.

Unacceptable
.

Being late was something he wouldn’t ordinarily tolerate, but given the venue—the young couple in the corner, a businessman tapping at his laptop, the bored barista leaning on the counter playing some game on his phone—there was little he could do.

No, it would be too much work to deal with Emma’s tardiness here. Too much to clean up, and Elias really hadn’t the time nor the inclination to deal with it. So he’d let it slide.

He checked his watch again.

I’ll give her ten minutes
.

He rarely met his people in public, preferring to stay on the more private estate on the edge of town, but once in a while, he needed a double espresso or a
pain au chocolat
. The coffee shop in the middle of downtown Kalispell, Montana, created a fair rendition of his favorite pastry. The coffee wasn’t bad either.

For peasants
.

Elias shook his head and sighed. Perhaps he was losing his taste for the finer things. He hated the idea of it, but it really couldn’t be helped. He was where he needed to be.

For the moment
.

He fought the urge to rub at his eyes. The contacts irritated him, and he seldom wore them, but out in the world it was best not to stick out. He had to admit that he was looking forward to the day when his people could lose the contacts and lift the Veils for good. When they could step out of the shadows and take their rightful place.

Elias sensed her halfway down the block and took another sip of his espresso, schooling his expression into one of cool disappointment. Emma needed a firm hand, they all did, but his daughter was eager to please. It was a benefit, but also made her careless, on occasion.

The girl in question burst through the door, eyes frantic as they settled on him. She took a deep breath and dropped her gaze as she approached. “I’m sorry I’m late, Father,” she said, her voice a quiet tremble. “Traffic was—”

“Excuses, Emma?” he said reproachfully. “Really?”

She swallowed, head dipping in acknowledgment of the reprimand. “I’m sorry, Father.”

He let her stew for a moment, taking another sip of the cooling coffee, then he nudged the chair across from him with the toe of his shoe in invitation.

Emma relaxed ever so slightly and took a seat.

A waitress approached, and Elias fought off a scowl of irritation, instead ordering his daughter a latte and chocolate chip cookie with an indulgent smile.

She didn’t speak, simply kept her head bowed and hands folded in her lap.

Elias waited until the waitress delivered the order before he addressed her. “How have you been, daughter?”

Her eyes flashed up in surprise. “F-f-fine. Thank you, Father.”

“You’ve been enjoying Billings?”

She couldn’t keep the frown off her face, but she tried. He had to give her that.

“It’s . . . nice. Quiet.” She hesitated and he waved a hand, gesturing for her to continue. “It’s just difficult,” she said. “Being away for so long.”

“I see you every week,” he said. “I do have other commitments, you know?”

“Oh, I know, Father. I’m not complaining,” she said, the words tumbling out. “And I appreciate you taking the time. It’s just . . .” She rubbed her forehead.

“Ah, poor thing,” he said, clucking his tongue. “Is it painful?” She straightened, putting on a brave face, and a rush of pride made Elias smile gently.

“It’s not so bad. I only want to be useful. I could help, Father. If I was here, I could—”

“Shhh,” he said, reaching across the table to sweep the hair out of her face. “Hush now.”

She leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed, and he pulled his hand away. She whimpered.

He arched a brow. The girl needed to learn more control.

Emma blushed and dipped her head.

Better.

“The time away was for your own good,” he said. “Time for you to contemplate your actions and learn from them.”

She nodded, eager words falling from her lips. “Oh, I have, Father. I’ve learned. I promise, I won’t let you down again.”