He was right. Rogues lived for their own pleasure and eliminated anyone who got in their way—human and Race alike. Usually, their reckless indifference left a path of destruction easy for the Council to trace, and once discovered, they were quickly taken down. But this one . . .
This one seemed unusually well prepared. He knew where to find Ava and how to get into the city unnoticed. Hell, he got to her and took her away right under Caleb’s nose. If it was a Rogue, it was one unlike any he’d ever encountered before.
The thought chilled him. The Rogue’s unpredictability put Caleb at a disadvantage, something he rarely experienced and greatly despised.
They burst through the underbrush and onto a paved road. Tiernan shook his head ruefully. “They got in a car,” he said. “I can still track her, but it’ll be harder on foot. I won’t be able to feel her if they get too far away.”
He and Tiernan felt the others approach at the same time, both spinning on their heels to take up a defensive posture, and relaxing when they recognized the group of a half-dozen Protectors apparently sent by Madeleine. They’d been careful to leave an easy-to-follow trail so the search party would be able to catch up quickly.
Katherine stepped forward, addressing her brother. “How far?”
Tiernan nodded grimly toward the ground. “We’re getting close. The trail is only a few minutes old. But it would help if we had a car.”
Katherine nodded. “Rafe’s driving one.”
Caleb blinked. “Rafe?”
Katherine laughed slightly. “Yeah, he insisted. Your mother is not too happy about it, I might add—a Council member going on a mission.
“He’s tracking me with a GPS. Shouldn’t be long until he catches up to us if we stay on the road.” She eyed her brother. “We are staying on the road, right?”
Tiernan closed his eyes, his head tilting back as he took a deep breath. “Yes,” he said, turning to his left. “Let’s go.”
The others lined up behind him and they began to run, feet pounding on the pavement as they sped down the road. After only a few more minutes, Caleb heard the sound of an engine, and a large, black SUV approached, Rafe at the wheel.
“You guys need a lift?” he called, elbow hanging out the window. The Protectors piled in the car, Tiernan and Caleb cramming into the front seat. They sped down the road, hugging the tight curves as it twisted and turned.
Tiernan remained tightly focused, relaying terse instructions until they pulled onto a gravel road nearly obscured by overhanging branches. “Stop!” he ordered.
Rafe slammed on the brakes.
“What is it?” Caleb asked.
Tiernan’s eyes narrowed as he focused on something Caleb couldn’t see. “A cloak,” he said. “I think we’re getting close. We better proceed on foot.” They got out of the car and moved silently down the edge of the gravel road.
When Rafe started after them, Caleb held up a hand. “You’re not coming.”
“The hell I’m not.”
“You’re a Council member,” Caleb argued. “I appreciate you bringing the car, but you can’t be risked, not even for this.”
Rafe crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, I may not be a Protector anymore, but I am Race. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, and I know how to fight, you know.
“Besides, it’s not your decision. I’m going. Now, do you want to stand here arguing about it, or do you want to go after Ava?”
Caleb frowned but nodded curtly. They proceeded through the cloak, alert to any movement. Cresting a hill, Tiernan ducked behind a tree, raising a hand, his muscles flexing tensely. They all stopped, and he waved Caleb forward, pressing a finger to his lips.
Caleb eased next to him, peering over his shoulder. Below them, a dilapidated, two-story house stood in the middle of a small clearing, smoke pouring from the chimney. He spotted two figures in black pacing in front of the house, and as he looked, a third—and a fourth—appeared from behind the house, eyes scanning the surrounding area before they headed back the way they’d come. Three carried guns, the fourth was empty-handed. Caleb knew he would be the one to watch out for. If he didn’t need a weapon, he undoubtedly had a formidable gift.
Tiernan jerked his head and the pair hurried back to the rest of their group. “At least four outside,” he said in a quiet whisper. “No idea how many inside. They’ll sense us coming if we move any closer, so we’ll have to move quickly.”
Rafe leaned in. “We should send two in from the road, the rest circling around to the back. It might be enough of a distraction to give us a least a few minutes advantage.”
Caleb nodded. “I’ll go. They’ll expect me.”
“No,” Tiernan said. “It’s too dangerous. You’ll get yourself shot.”
“I’ll go with him,” offered a Protector named James. The man was tall and thin, not much of a fighter but he had a strong telekinetic ability.
“Good,” Caleb said eagerly. “Between his telekinesis and my shifting, we’ll be able to avoid any bullets coming our way. Once you all move in, I’ll focus on getting into the house.”
“You have no idea what you’ll face in there,” Tiernan warned.
“Then you’ll have to back me up as soon as you can.”
Tiernan exchanged a telling look with Rafe before nodding curtly. They all knew there would be no convincing Caleb otherwise, and time was running out. They had no idea what kind of abilities the Rogues had: one of them might very well be able to sense them at any time and just hadn’t really tried yet.
They split up, easing through the surrounding forest while Caleb paced nervously. James leaned against a tree, mentally tossing and catching a rock.
“Can you stop that?” Caleb hissed.
James shrugged, letting the rock fall to the ground. “Just trying to stay sharp.”
Caleb’s phone vibrated—the signal from Tiernan—and he inhaled deeply. “You ready?” he asked.
James nodded, and without further discussion the two moved to the edge of the forest, and beyond, ducking behind trees and shrubs, and staying close to the ground to avoid being noticed as long as possible. They huddled behind a small outbuilding, and Caleb peeked around the corner just in time to see one of the Rogues point in their direction.
“We’re out of time. They know we’re here.” He reached out to grab James’s arm, pulled a couple of cubes out of his own pocket, and popped them into his mouth. “I’ll try to get us close, but I don’t dare shift us inside without knowing what’s there.”
James cracked his neck, a grim look on his face. “Hit the deck as soon as we come out of the shift and I’ll take care of the bullets—and hopefully the guns, too.”
Caleb nodded and in the next moment, they appeared below the front porch, dropping to the ground as shots rang out. James looked up and Caleb felt a sharp sting cut across his upper arm. A small trickle of blood bloomed through his shirtsleeve.
“Sorry,” James muttered.
“Just get the guns,” he grunted, pressing a hand to his arm, relieved that it was only a flesh wound. He heard a sharp shout, followed by a clattering sound as the guns flew across the yard, smashing against a tree.
“Could have zapped them over here,” Caleb muttered.
“Shut up. Let’s go,” James yelled, and they got to their feet, just as the rest of the Protectors descended on the back of the house.
Something flew through the air, slamming into Caleb’s shoulder, and he fell to a knee. “They’ve got a telekinetic!” he shouted.
“On it!” James called back. Caleb looked up in time to see a large flowerpot lift off the porch behind the telekinetic and smash into his head. He fell off the porch into a heap on the front steps. The other Protector ran into the house as shouts and explosions sounded from the backyard.
A ball of fire shot across the yard, exploding into the forest. Apparently, the gun-less Rogue had a few unique talents.
James saw it, too. “We need to help them!”
“You go ah
ead. I’m going inside!”
“No. You can’t go in by yourself.” James’s eyes darted nervously from the battle in the backyard to the front door, obviously torn between his duties.
“Go help them,” Caleb said, already hurrying up the steps. “I only sense two inside. I can handle them.”
“You sure?”
“Go!” he shouted, bursting through the front door as James hurried around to help the other Protectors.
The sound of battle muffled his footsteps as he raced through the house, following his senses. His back pressed against the wall, he shuffled down a hallway, a muffled thump leading him to a doorway at the end. He peered around the corner as the Rogue who’d been in the front yard whirled around, a gun in his hand.
Without a second thought, Caleb shifted behind him, grabbing his arm and wrenching it behind his back in one quick motion. With a surprised gasp, the Rogue dropped the gun.
“Where is she?” Caleb growled, but the Rogue only struggled in response. A sharp pain stabbed into Caleb’s head, almost driving him to his knees with its intensity, and he realized the Rogue was attacking. He fought through the pain, looping his arm around the flailing man’s neck and tightening his grip until the Rogue collapsed to the floor, unconscious. The headache eased instantly. Caleb didn’t spare a minute to tie him up; instead, he rushed out of the room, desperate to find Ava.
The battle continued outside, but Caleb’s sole focus was the presence he could feel in the house.
Two people. Somewhere . . . below.
He found a stairway leading down to what he assumed was a basement. Stepping quietly down the rickety stairs, he could make out quiet voices, breathing. But when he reached the bottom of the stairs, his heart stopped.
Ava sat in a chair, her hands bound behind her back and a tall, thin Rogue with shaggy black hair pointing a gun at her temple.
“Well, hello . . . Caleb, is it?” he said, tilting his head inquisitively as he yanked Ava to her feet. “You are a determined one, aren’t you?”
“Ava?” he said, ignoring the Rogue. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“She’s right, you know,” the Rogue said indifferently. “It won’t matter anyway. You can’t stop us.”
“Let her go,” Caleb said, trying to push the man mentally. “You don’t need her.”
The Rogue laughed. “Really? You think you can manipulate me? Your parlor tricks won’t work with me, Caleb.” He pulled Ava toward the stairs, jerking his head to indicate Caleb should move across the room.
“Your little girlfriend has a job to do, and we really don’t have time for your nonsense.”
“A job?” Caleb asked, forcing back his panic in an effort to get the man talking. If he could stall long enough, maybe the others could get to them.
Another loud explosion sounded outside, and his hopes faded.
“What’s going on out there?” Ava asked. “Caleb, you need to help them.”
The Rogue grinned, pulling her close to his side, the gun pressed to her skin. “Oh, it’s too late for that, Ava,” he said. “We have a secret weapon on our side. Christopher has a talent with fire. Caleb’s little friends are as good as dead.”
They backed toward the staircase, and Caleb held up his hands, unsure of what to do.
“Let her go,” he urged. “The Council will never let you get away with this.”
“Oh, the Council’s day will come,” he retorted. “Sooner than it thinks.”
“Caleb,” Ava interjected. “He won’t hurt me. They need me. They want me for something.”
“Shut up!” the Rogue growled, jerking her close and dragging her up the stairs. “Although I have to admit, you do make a good point.” With a grin, he turned the gun toward Caleb. “However, I have no such qualms about killing you.”
Without another word, he pulled the trigger. Ava screamed as Caleb shifted in reflex, but he was only able to move a few inches before the bullet pierced his skin, lodging in his chest. He fell to the floor, Ava’s agonized sobs echoing around him as the Rogue dragged her up the stairs.
Stunned, Ava fought against Arthur. She couldn’t tear her eyes from Caleb’s slumped form on the dirty concrete floor. Blood blossomed on his shirt, slowly expanding until a small pool began to form beneath him. She struggled harder, desperate to get to Caleb.
“Stop it,” he growled, yanking her up the stairs one at a time. “He’s your past. We’re your future.”
“No!” Ava screamed, twisting fruitlessly in Arthur’s iron grip. “Caleb!”
He was shot—bleeding—life flowing out of him with every passing second. She had to get to him. She had to help him.
She had to do something.
Desperation clenched in her stomach as fear and panic warred for precedence. She tried to tap into her power in a last-ditch effort to break free. But she couldn’t calm her thoughts, and that electric sizzle hovered just out of reach before fading away. The adrenaline seemed to be fighting against her for some reason.
“Caleb!”
He looked up at her, eyes dazed, and he struggled to get to his feet. He only made it as far as a knee, leaning heavily against the wall, overcome by weakness and pain. “I’m . . . I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words barely making it past his lips as he collapsed back onto the floor, his chest heaving as he struggled for breath.
Tears streaked down Ava’s face as she grabbed the stair railing with both hands, holding tightly as Arthur wrapped his arms around her stomach, trying to tear her away. A pained sob escaped as her grip loosened, fingernails scraping against the rough wood. “No!” she screamed.
Then, just as they reached the top of the stairs, just as she feared all hope was lost, something happened.
A moment of clarity, like a wall tumbling down, brick by brick, and revealing a wide expanse of possibility beyond.
And Ava . . . knew.
She couldn’t explain what exactly she knew, or how it happened. It wasn’t even knowledge so much as insight . . . instinct.
But suddenly, she knew how to stop Arthur. Like a key in a lock, she took a deep breath and it all clicked, her power sizzling under the surface of her skin, bowing to her will. She turned blazing eyes on her captor, and he hesitated for a moment at whatever he saw there.
With a rush of fury, power surged through her, and Arthur flew into the air and down the stairs. He tumbled into the wall beside Caleb, his leg twisted at an awkward angle as he gaped up at Ava in surprise.
“It’s true,” he murmured, a whisper of awe in his voice. “I didn’t really believe it.”
Ava started down the stairs, freezing when he jerked the gun up, the muzzle pointed directly at her.
“Don’t come any closer,” he warned, eyes darting about in panic. Outside, the battle raged on, and Arthur pulled his cell phone from his pocket, punching a button and holding it to his ear. “Don’t you see, Ava?” he said. “You’re meant for this. You’re meant for so much more than you realize.”
Ava shook her head. “It’s over. Put the gun down and let me help Caleb. You can go. I won’t stop you.” The gun dipped, and she took another few steps.
He jerked his hand back up and Ava froze as he spoke into the phone. “I need an extraction. Yes, I have her, but there are Protectors everywhere.
“I don’t know about the others. You need to move fast.” He ended the call and pulled himself up onto his good leg while keeping the gun pointed at Ava.
“You’ll see,” he said. “You’ll understand. You just need to accept that your old life is gone, so your new life can begin.”
With a sickening smile, he swung his arm around and pointed the gun at Caleb’s head.
“You just need to say good-bye,” Arthur said with a shrug as the shot rang out.
Ava threw up a hand, power flowing through her in a mighty surge, and time seemed to slow before her eyes. Arthur was motionless, frozen, still smiling as he looked down at Caleb, and a heavy s
ilence descended, the only sound Ava’s slow and steady breaths. She could feel every dust mote, every molecule around her, swirling in a thick soup of resistance as she moved through it, commanded it. The bullet crawled through the air toward Caleb’s forehead before coming to a stop, barely touching his skin.
“No!” she shouted, the word muffled, the vowel elongating as it wound its way forward through space.
Slowly, the bullet turned about in its path and began to move.
“No,” she said again, and with another flash of power, time resumed, the bullet following its new trajectory . . .
Into Arthur’s chest.
He stumbled back into the wall, mouth and eyes wide with disbelief. The gun clattered to the floor as he clutched his chest, a gurgled moan forcing a spurt of blood from his mouth. Slowly, he slid to the floor. Ava descended the final stairs, kicking the gun away from him before bending down to pick it up gingerly.
“But,” he mumbled, words twisted by the blood filling his mouth. “You’re . . . one of . . . us.”
She leaned forward, looking into the eyes she once trusted more than anything. “No,” she said through her teeth. “Never.”
He gasped once more before his breath escaped in a low hiss and his head rolled back on the dirty concrete floor, eyes unseeing. With a grimace, Ava turned away, hurrying to Caleb’s side.
At the sound of footsteps approaching down the stairs, Ava whirled around, throwing a hand out. The chair flew through the air, narrowly missing Tiernan as he dodged gracefully to the left, and smashed into the far wall.
“I see you’ve got a handle on things,” he said wryly, eyeing the splintered wood.
“Get away from us!” she shouted, pointing the gun at him. “Don’t come any closer, or I swear I’ll shoot!” She frantically searched the basement for more weapons, mentally throwing a lamp toward Tiernan, then a box of books.
He ducked the lamp and knocked the box away with a beefy arm. “Hold on,” he said, dropping his gun and holding up his hands. “We’re here to help.”
“Yeah, right,” she said, hovering over Caleb protectively. “Like you helped the Jordans? Like you helped Audrey and the Guardians?”
The MORE Trilogy Page 23