The MORE Trilogy

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The MORE Trilogy Page 9

by T. M. Franklin


  Ava gasped suddenly as a strong arm wrapped around her waist, sweeping her up in a blur of motion. Her eyes flew open, trying to make sense of the whirling world around her, and in the next instant, she found herself pressed against a wall, Caleb’s back to her. Her fingers gripped his shoulders as she tried to regain her balance and clear her head. A low voice chilled her blood.

  “Get out of the way, Foster.”

  No. Not him. Not again. Ava’s confusion gave way to outright fear. She shrank behind Caleb’s back, as if hoping to disappear.

  “Leave her alone, Tiernan,” Caleb said, his voice deadly. “The Council gave me three days.”

  A mocking laugh grated back at him. “Time’s up.”

  “Not until tomorrow.”

  “Technicalities aren’t going to change a thing,” Tiernan growled. “The Council’s fed up with your stalling. I’m taking her now.”

  “No,” Caleb said, his voice a quiet but not subtle threat. “You’re not.” He grabbed her again, so fast she didn’t even see him move. Once more, she found herself fighting for breath, suddenly behind a tree and unsure of how she got there. A moment later, Tiernan’s hulking frame appeared a few feet away.

  “You can’t outrun me, Caleb,” he said, shaking his head. “And you don’t dare risk a shift.”

  Another blur of movement and Ava was face-to-face with a door.

  “Go inside,” Caleb urged. “I’ll draw him away.”

  “What?” Ava shook her head. “What’s happening? Where am I?”

  “It’s your dorm,” he hissed. “Hurry, before he—”

  “Really, Caleb?” Tiernan’s mocking voice interrupted him. “This is getting tiresome, don’t you think?”

  Caleb turned, squaring his shoulders. “You’re not taking her.”

  A flash of red and blue lights drew their attention, and Ava breathed shakily at the sight of a police car driving up the path.

  Tiernan glared at Caleb. “This isn’t over,” he said.

  And then he was gone.

  Two city cops stepped out of the car, hands resting on their weapons, one shining a flashlight toward them. Caleb pulled Ava through the door into the dorm.

  “What are you doing?” Ava asked. “We need to tell them he was back.”

  “Not a good idea,” Caleb muttered. He grabbed her wrist, heading down the hallway, but she yanked out of his grasp.

  “Caleb, what the hell’s going on?” she asked, stepping back warily from his angry gaze. “How did you do that . . . move so fast? What happened out there?”

  “We don’t have time for this,” he snapped.

  She reached for the door, Caleb’s eyes following the movement. Her challenging gaze focused on Caleb as she whipped the door open to run to the police and tell them what had happened.

  At least that was her intent.

  But before she even turned the knob, Caleb had her across the hall, all but carrying her around the corner.

  She gasped. “What . . . what are you?”

  Caleb frowned. “That’s not your concern.”

  He placed a hand on her forehead, and the world went black.

  Ava awoke again in her room, dizzy and disoriented and completely alone. Her head was a muzzy mix of disjointed images, and she sat up slowly on the sofa, rubbing her temples absently. A knock sounded at her door, and she stumbled up from the couch, pausing for a moment to regain her balance. A glance at the clock indicated it was a little after midnight.

  What happened? Where was Lucy?

  That’s right. Her roommate had gone to the concert with some friends and decided to stay the night instead of walking home alone. She remembered talking to her on the phone just before she left work.

  That memory was crystal clear. She could picture the couple in the corner booth sipping coffee and smiling—most likely a first date. Jake banging around in the kitchen, Lucy’s half-drunk voice on the phone.

  But then . . .

  She remembered leaving work—or at least getting ready to leave work—but the walk home was a blur.

  Another knock shook her from her thoughts, and Ava peeked through the peephole to find a uniformed police officer standing outside.

  The police. Why were the police there?

  There was a reason . . .

  She searched her mind for the answer but got nothing in return.

  Ava opened the door, squinting out into the bright light of the hallway. “Yes? Is everything okay?”

  “Miss Michaels?” The dark-haired officer nodded at her slightly. “Are you all right?”

  Ava swept her hair back from her face. “Yeah. I was just . . .” She waved back into the room absently. “Sleeping?” She wondered why it came out as a question.

  “Are you sure?” the officer asked, stretching to peek over her shoulder. “There was a report of suspicious activity outside.”

  “ ‘Suspicious activity?’ ”

  “One of your neighbors reported a man lurking about. A man matching the description of your attacker.”

  Ava rubbed circles into her temple when a headache sprouted up out of nowhere. “Are they sure?”

  “So, you didn’t see anyone, then?”

  Ava shook her head. “No. No, I didn’t. I don’t remember seeing anyone.”

  Of course, she didn’t remember anything about the last hour, it seemed.

  At all.

  “All right,” the officer said finally. “Sorry to disturb you. We’ll be outside if you need anything.”

  Ava nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Keep your door locked,” he reminded her with a tip of his hat. Ava smiled slightly and closed the door, throwing the deadbolt before turning to press her back against the wood tiredly. Her head flopped back with a soft thump as she gazed at the ceiling, wondering what was wrong with her. She’d never had problems with her memory before. Of course, she’d never been this preoccupied before, what with strange men attacking her in the dark, police surveillance, and trying to pass her classes at the same time.

  She was grateful that the college had at least kept her identity secret from the media. The last thing she needed on top of all of that was a nosy reporter or a bunch of TV crews camped outside her dorm room. At that thought, she crossed to the window, peering into the darkness and feeling more than a little relieved to see the police car parked outside.

  Exhausted, Ava went to bed, too tired to think about anything until the morning.

  The uneasy feeling that something was missing followed Ava to physics the next morning. She sat through the lecture, doodling on her notepad absently. Only at the end of class did she realize the page was covered with sketches of eyes.

  Dark, menacing eyes narrowed in anger, suspicion . . . maybe even hate.

  Even though they were drawn in the gray-black shades of a pencil, she didn’t need color to recognize that one eye was blue, the other green. Over and over again, the eyes of her attacker stared up at her from her notebook. With a growl of frustration, she ripped the page out and crumpled it into a ball. Her lab partner eyed her curiously.

  “Something bothering you?” David asked as they packed up their things and headed out of the lecture hall. “You seemed to be somewhere else.”

  “Just a little distracted,” Ava admitted. “Lot on my mind.”

  David nodded, shifting uneasily on his feet. “Well, if you need anything,” he began lamely, his freckled cheeks flushing hotly as he dropped his gaze.

  “Thanks. I’ll be fine,” Ava replied with a smile. “Although if you wouldn’t mind e-mailing me your notes? I don’t think I got anything today.”

  “Sure, no problem,” David said as they walked down the front steps. He shot her a quick wave as they parted, and Ava found herself heading back to the dorm, lost in thought.

  When the dorm came into view, instead of continuing to the front door she stood across the wide pathway, looking up toward her room. Frowning, her head still throbbing slightly, she looked around the grassy courtyard, uns
ure of what exactly she was looking for. She wandered around aimlessly, running a hand over a tree trunk, kicking a loose rock—smiling reassuringly at the police officer assigned to her, who was trying hard not to look like he was wondering what in the world she was doing. Ava tucked her hands in her pockets and sighed heavily.

  Something was happening, but she had no idea what it was. She was missing something . . . had somehow forgotten something important. She shut her eyes, trying to picture her actions the night before.

  “You all want a refill?”

  The customer smiles and asks for the check.

  A phone call—”You have reached the voice mail for the Partner Program at Allenmore College, no one is available to take your call . . .”

  Uncertainty. What to do? Who to call?

  Jake rattling dishes in the back. “You heading home soon? Looks like your buddy’s here.”

  Following his pointing finger to the front door.

  Then . . . nothing.

  The doorway, empty . . . dark.

  No, wait. There’s someone there.

  Ava’s heart beat heavily in her chest as she mentally focused on that dark doorway, but nothing appeared . . . no one. She opened her eyes, gazing unseeingly forward at the building across from her dorm. Bidden by some imperceptible force, she walked toward the building, her eyes locked on the brick wall. With each step, the bricks grew bigger and bigger, until the rest of her surroundings disappeared in the edges of her vision.

  “The Closed sign was a dead giveaway.”

  Ava blinked as Caleb’s voice came to mind suddenly.

  “Shhh . . .”

  Ava’s vision swam as she reached out to touch the worn bricks, her fingers running over the broken surface of the decades-old mortar. Slowly, her eyes drifted down to the sparse grass under her feet, flattened as if . . .

  “The Council gave me three days.”

  “Time’s up.”

  Dazed, Ava looked up, spotting a tree across the courtyard. It was only a tree, a regular, run-of-the-mill maple or elm—she wasn’t sure—but it seemed to call to her somehow. Slowly, she approached it, hands pressed against the rough bark. Unable to say why, she laid her body against the tree as if . . . no, that wasn’t right. She circled to the other side of the tree and resumed her position, pressed up against it.

  “You can’t outrun me, Caleb.”

  Caleb.

  Ava’s breath caught as the realization hit her. Something had happened. Something involving the man who’d attacked her—and Caleb Foster.

  She was as certain of it as she was her own name.

  The only thing she didn’t understand is why. A multitude of whys, actually.

  Why couldn’t she remember past a few scattered images and thoughts?

  Why was the man after her in the first place?

  Why did he seem to know Caleb?

  Why was Caleb hiding it?

  “Miss Michaels?” Ava looked up to see her assigned bodyguard approaching her slowly. “Is there something wrong?”

  Ava forced a smile. It all sounded so crazy, not to mention confusing, and she needed to get her thoughts straight before talking to anyone. Caleb was hiding something, but somehow she knew that he wasn’t the threat. He was, in some strange way, trying to help her.

  She needed to think.

  She needed to remember.

  What she didn’t need, at least not at that moment, was to talk to the police about all of the insanity. So instead, she painted on a smile.

  “Sorry,” she said. “I’m fine. Just a . . . project for my English class. We have to write a paper on our observations.”

  The cop nodded as if he understood, even though Ava was pretty sure he didn’t. She took the opportunity to escape, though, smiling at him as she walked back to the dorm and headed up to her room. She made her way to the desk and sat down, staring at nothing as she tried to make sense of things. With a frustrated huff, she reached into her backpack and pulled out her notebook, opening it to a blank page. Biting her lip, she began to make a list.

  The Attacker

  No, that wasn’t right. Ava scratched through the words and instead wrote Tiernan. Under his name, she wrote down everything she remembered about him—where she’d seen him, what he looked like, things he said. She did the same for the dark-haired woman—although that list was considerably shorter. Finally, with only a brief hesitation, she started a list for Caleb.

  At first, she jotted down seemingly inane observations, like genius and good teacher. But then she found herself adding things she hadn’t ever consciously thought of before, like taller than he seems at first and is everywhere lately. By the time she was finished, Ava had covered the page front and back, and was convinced that Caleb was connected to the attack—no, attacks, she corrected. She was absolutely certain now that the man had returned the night before and that Caleb protected her. The memories were fleeting, but she had no doubt they were true.

  She also believed that Caleb wasn’t exactly what he appeared to be. When she thought back over the time she’d spent with him, she realized there were moments when he seemed different—almost bigger . . . stronger. And there was the time she’d caught him reading without his glasses. He’d covered for it, putting them on quickly and making a joke about it. At the time, she’d written it off, but it seemed to add to the mystery surrounding him. Not to mention what was happening with her memories. As insane as it sounded, she truly believed Caleb had something to do with that, as well.

  Ava sighed, slumping in her seat. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but some seemed to be misaligned—like she was trying to jam one into the wrong spot. It was almost right, but not quite perfect. Frustration and despair warred within her because she felt like the missing piece from the middle—the picture not finished until she became a part of it. But she had no idea where she belonged, where she fit in the strange situation that she was still trying to figure out.

  Ava stared blankly at the list on the desk in front of her for a moment, before sparing a glance at the clock and folding the paper in half. With a sigh, she grabbed her backpack, tucked the list inside, and headed for the door.

  She had classes to get to, homework to do. But she also knew she had questions that needed to be answered.

  And sooner or later, she’d track down Caleb and find out what he knew.

  Chapter 7

  “Luce, it’s your turn.” Ava whined, waving at the overflowing garbage can.

  “Nope,” she replied stubbornly. “I did it last night.”

  “It was almost empty last night.” Ava crossed her arms over her chest. “Except for a pizza box.”

  Lucy shrugged. Despite the fact that they were best friends, this had been an ongoing battle between the two. They worked together when it came to keeping the room clean, but taking out the garbage was another thing altogether. Part of it had to do with the fact that it was about fifteen degrees out, and the dumpster hulked in the dark behind the dorm inside a fenced courtyard. Neither girl liked venturing out.

  “Besides, you have a bodyguard,” Lucy pointed out.

  Ava sighed. Lucy had been overly protective at first about the attack and the police response, but she’d come to appreciate the constant presence of a police car outside their dorm. Although Ava was glad that Lucy had calmed down a bit, she almost wished she could milk her situation just a little, if only to avoid having to take out the garbage. Instead, she yanked the bag out of the can with a glare in Lucy’s direction. Lucy ignored it, of course, and turned back to her book.

  “Don’t go alone,” she called out before Ava walked through the door.

  “Oh, sure, now you’re concerned,” Ava yelled back. Lucy laughed, and Ava headed down the stairs and out the front door. She waved at the police car, holding up the bag, and one of the detectives stepped out, following her around to the back of the building.

  “Sure is cold,” he said, pulling his wool coat tighter around him.

  Ava
nodded. “I’m sorry you guys have to sit out in this.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not a problem, ma’am. The car’s pretty warm.”

  Ava smiled, opening the gate to the small, enclosed area holding the dumpster and recycle bins. The detective turned to survey the frost-covered strip of grass and trees between the dorms, hands in his pockets and whistling lightly as Ava walked inside. She hefted the lid of the dumpster, swinging the bag into its depths with a satisfying thwap. Letting the lid fall back down, she noticed the detective had stopped whistling. In fact, she couldn’t hear him at all.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked warily, peering through the fence slats into the darkness. “Detective?”

  Only the slight rustle of wind in the trees responded to her call.

  Ava stiffened, fear coiling deep in her belly as every hair on her body stood up on end. Suddenly, she knew she was no longer alone in the courtyard. She turned on her heel, padding quietly toward the gate, one hand trailing lightly along the fence boards. She passed through, looking to her left, only to find the detective slumped on the ground in a heap.

  Hurrying to his side, she bent over him, pressing two fingers to his neck and only releasing a relieved breath when she felt the steady beat of his heart. Ava stood quickly, whirling around to race to the police car for help, only to come face to face with the man who’d haunted her nightmares for so long. She staggered back, opening her mouth to scream, but he moved—impossibly fast—and pressed his hand over her open mouth.

  “Ah, ah, ah,” he said in a gruff, singsong voice. “Wouldn’t want me to have to deal with the other detective, too, right?”

  Ava strained against him, but his hold only tightened as he pulled her back into the fenced area and out of sight. She struggled for breath, his heavy hand pressing up against her nose, and he seemed to recognize the problem because he removed his hand, keeping her against him firmly with his other hand.

  “Caleb!” she screamed, unsure why she would call out to him, but it seemed almost instinctive.

  Her attacker covered her mouth again, more carefully this time. “Caleb’s occupied at the moment,” he growled. “Now, relax. I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet, at least. But if you scream, I’ll have no choice but to knock you out.”

 

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