The MORE Trilogy

by T. M. Franklin

  “He cares about Caleb,” Tiernan said after a while, continuing the conversation as though they’d never paused. “That much is obvious. And I think he believes that you two have at least that in common. He’ll be more open with you than me.”

  Emma cleared her throat. “I think we’re about to find out,” she said, glancing pointedly toward the door where the Guardian leader in question had entered the room.

  He crossed to them, pulling up an empty chair and straddling it backward.

  Ava almost smiled at the movement; it was so reminiscent of Caleb. Now that she knew they were related, the resemblance was obvious.

  “Everything secure?” Tiernan asked in a gruff voice.

  Ava shot him a look that said grunting and looming, I told you so, before turning toward Gideon expectantly.

  “We’re ready,” he said. “If they get close, we’ll know it.”

  Ava opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by the slam of a door and a familiar voice. “Where is she? I can’t believe you people. Treating a nice girl like—” And with that, Audrey Collins appeared in the doorway to the common room, all fiery red hair and green eyes, her Irish accent thick with annoyance. She spotted Ava and let out a little squeal.

  “There you are!” she said, rushing across the room and pulling Ava up into a tight hug. “Are you all right? Where’s Caleb?” She pulled back, gripping Ava’s shoulders and barely breathing between words. “What are you doing here?”

  Ava felt a weight lift from her shoulders. She hadn’t seen Audrey since the attack on the safe house, and although she’d known the woman had survived, seeing her in the flesh helped relieve the ongoing guilt she’d felt at being the cause of the raid.

  “I’m so glad to see you,” Ava said, her voice cracking with a quick surge of emotion.

  “And I, you.” Audrey smiled and leaned in with a conspiratorial wink. “Have you been practicing?”

  Ava couldn’t keep from rolling her eyes. “Constantly.”

  Audrey laughed. “And?”

  “It’s helped.” For the first time since the whole mess with Caleb started, she felt the stirrings of excitement. “I have better control over my senses, and the telekinesis, too. Caleb says—”

  “So I take it you know this girl?” Gideon asked, although his tone suggested he hadn’t really doubted it.

  “Of course I do, you great lout!” Audrey said with a hint of scorn. “She’s a friend of Caleb’s. Speaking of . . . where is Caleb?” Audrey glanced back toward the door. “What’s going on? He didn’t come with you?”

  Ava sighed heavily. “Caleb’s in trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?” She turned back to Ava, tucking a strand of the girl’s hair behind her ear.

  The touch soothed Ava, reminding her of her mother, and she suddenly found herself fighting tears.

  “Oh now, none of that,” Audrey said quietly, hugging her again and stroking her hair. “It’ll all be all right. You’ll see.” She pulled up another chair and sat down with Ava, never even glancing at the others. “Now, what’s got you so upset?”

  “She says Caleb’s been compromised,” Gideon said, sliding a cup of water to Ava, who took a sip, trying to organize her thoughts.

  Emma reached out to take her free hand, and Tiernan leaned back, watching the conversation with a detached but critical eye.

  Ava explained the situation in terse words. Gideon listened stiffly but added nothing.

  Audrey sat back heavily, her fingers pressed to her lips as she looked wide-eyed at Emma. “You did this?”

  “It wasn’t her fault,” Ava said tersely.

  “No, no, of course not.” Audrey waved a hand dismissively. “It’s an impressive gift, is all. I haven’t seen such a thing before—not in one so young. Not at any age, actually.” She eyed the girl in appraisal. “And you’re certain you can reverse the effects?”

  “I can.” Emma ducked her head. “I will.”

  “And him?” Audrey jerked her chin toward Tiernan as she spoke to Ava in a low voice. “He can be trusted?”

  Tiernan stiffened, but Ava cut him off before he could say anything. “Tiernan gave me his word he won’t betray the Colony to the Council,” she said. “He won’t.”

  Audrey pursed her lips, nodding slowly as she absorbed that information. She turned to Gideon. “So this is the first time you two have met,” she said slowly.

  Gideon half glared at the woman, who met his gaze. “Aye,” he said.

  “Well, then,” Audrey said, getting up from the table. “I imagine you have a lot to discuss.”

  “Audrey,” Gideon said in a warning growl.

  “She knows Caleb. Better than you,” Audrey said sharply. He winced, and she shook her head, her tone almost chiding. “You know she can help.”

  After a moment, Gideon nodded sharply.

  “We can talk more later,” she told Ava, patting her arm gently. “I can show your friends to some quarters—”

  “We’ll stay with Ava,” Tiernan said gruffly, his severe gaze brooking no argument.

  Audrey’s lips quirked. “I assure you she is in no danger.” She cast a significant glance toward Gideon, who inhaled heavily, letting the air out in a slow rush as he turned to Ava.

  “You can feel that, right? That I mean you no harm?” he asked in a low voice; his eyes seemed to look right through her. “Use your gift. You’ll see I’m telling the truth.”

  Ava reached for her power, letting her instincts sweep away conscious thought for a moment. She nodded. “It’s okay,” she told Tiernan after a long, searching look at Caleb’s father. “I’ll be fine.”

  Gideon nodded and stood up. “I could show you around the Colony, if you like.”

  Tiernan opened his mouth to protest again, but Ava shook her head at him before following Gideon to the door.

  They walked out into the cool evening air, and Ava pulled her coat tightly around her. Gideon led her down the row of buildings—a large, slightly misshapen ring, actually—pointing out a school, a library, and supply shed, before they made their way down a wooded path.

  “The living quarters are in the center of the compound,” he said, pointing out the specific buildings. “It’s best to protect them. The outer buildings pose another layer of protection in addition to the cloaks, which I’m sure you’ve seen.”

  To Ava’s surprise, the houses were grouped much like a typical neighborhood, but instead of paved streets and sidewalks, the homes lined gravel drives wide enough for a single vehicle. As in New Elysia, she saw no cars; however, there were no garages either, now that she thought of it, only green lawns and covered porches before simple, single-story homes. They appeared to all be roughly the same, but alternating in floor plan—some with the porch to the left of the entry, some to the right. Like the outer buildings, the houses were arranged in a loose ring, and as they rounded a corner, a park appeared in the center of the compound. Ava could see a group of children laughing and climbing on some playground equipment.

  “How many people live here?” she asked without thinking, wincing when she realized that Gideon would most likely be wary of sharing too much information with her.

  To her surprise, he smiled as he answered, “It varies. We have about fifty families who live here permanently. The rest of the population is transient.”

  “You mean the Half-Breeds.”

  Gideon arched a brow. “We prefer not to use that term here, but yes.”

  Ava nodded. “They don’t stay here?”

  “Some do. Some choose to help us with the work we do here—help others like themselves. Others want our help to gain control over their abilities so they can go back to live among humans undetected.”

  “But how do you hide them from the Council?”

  Gideon laughed a little and shook his head. “We may live out in the middle of the woods, but we are still Race,” he said. “We have technology. We have our own gifts. And we’re not the only Guardian Colony around.”

&
nbsp; Ava wanted to point out that he’d really not answered the question, but decided not to push it. They neared the park and Gideon led her to a bench in the shade of a large pine tree. She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, but luckily, it wasn’t too cold to enjoy the coming dusk. The laughter of children carried to her over the breeze, and for a moment Ava almost forgot that her life had become a gigantic mess over the past few days . . . weeks . . . months.

  “So,” Gideon said after a heavy inhale. “You and Caleb.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I heard about what happened before the Council,” he said, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I would have liked to have seen Madeleine’s face.”

  She half smiled. “I don’t think I’m her favorite person.”

  Her fingers trailed unconsciously to her necklace, and Gideon’s eyes followed the movement, his gaze lingering on the shimmering stones. “No, I imagine not.” He chuckled to himself and looked out toward the trees on the opposite side of the park. “She doesn’t like to be challenged.” His voice sounded like a mixture of amusement and melancholy—almost wistfulness—and Ava couldn’t resist the opportunity to find out more.

  “You were married,” she said.

  “We were.” He didn’t look at her. “We are.”

  “Still?” Ava couldn’t hide her surprise. “I’m sorry. I just assumed. With you here and her . . .” She waved a hand.

  “Leader of everything I stand against?” Gideon said wryly, glancing at her sideways. “Yes, that does tend to put a damper on the relationship.”

  He bent over to pick a blade of grass at his feet and slumped back against the bench, tearing it idly. “Did Caleb ever tell you about how we bond? With our mate?”

  Ava flushed. She was so not prepared to have this conversation with her boyfriend’s father. “He told me a bit.”

  Gideon nodded, continuing to split the blade of grass into smaller and smaller strips. “It lasts for life, you know. It doesn’t matter if you’re together or not.”

  Ava thought of the void she felt when Caleb wasn’t close by—the feeling that something was missing . . . something wrong. And he’d told her the closer they got, the stronger that bond would become.

  “So you still feel . . .” She wasn’t exactly sure what she was asking, but all of a sudden, she just had to know.

  He winced, holding out his palm to let the shredded pieces of grass fall to the ground. “The connection doesn’t lessen over time. Every moment is like she was just ripped from me. An emptiness that cannot be filled. And she feels the same.”

  Ava’s heart sank. She could see the pain etched in the older man’s features, the loss he couldn’t hide when talking about Madeleine, and she could finally understand why Caleb had been so leery to deepen the bond between them. He’d seen what could happen when the bond wasn’t enough.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, the words insufficient but all she could summon up. “Isn’t there some way?”

  He shrugged. “If there is, we haven’t been able to find it. And it’s been decades. Since Caleb was a little boy.” He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We’re both committed to what we believe in. She thinks the Council needs to be the guiding force for the Race, obviously. I think the old ways need to be . . . amended. When I first left New Elysia to establish the Guardians, I’d visit now and then, on neutral territory, but it was really too difficult for both of us. Caleb, too. We agreed it would be best for him if I simply stayed away.

  “I tried. But I’ve watched over him—checked in on him when I could. I was there when he finished school . . . when he was sworn in as a Protector. Watching from the sidelines. I knew Madeleine could tell—that she could feel me nearby—but she let me have those moments. I’ll always be grateful for that.

  “And after you—” The sadness in his eyes lifted as his lips lifted in a tiny smirk. “After your encounter with the Council, Caleb came to me. Well, he came to the Guardians, I should say. He didn’t really speak to me. But I had hoped in time we’d perhaps be able to reclaim some semblance of a relationship. And now . . .”

  “Now he’s been brainwashed by Rogues.”

  Gideon laughed humorlessly. “Which begs the question—why is he coming here? And why isn’t he here already?”

  Ava stood, and the pair started to walk slowly around the perimeter of the park as the sun dipped below the tree line. “That’s a good question,” she said. “We’ve been following him, and he can shift, so there’s no way we could have passed him. You have any thoughts?”

  “Only one thing makes sense,” Gideon replied, picking up a rock and tossing it aimlessly. “He was waiting for you to get here first.”

  “But why?”

  “That’s the million-dollar question.” Gideon turned to lead her out of the park and back toward the outer buildings. “I don’t have any answers, so I think the only thing we can do is be ready when he shows up.”

  “Then Emma can fix him.”

  Gideon seemed a bit uncomfortable with that, but he nodded anyway. “Then maybe Caleb can give us some answers,” he said.

  The waiting was awful. Now that they had nowhere to go—nothing to do but wait—Ava felt like she was going crazy.

  The night had been quiet, and fortunately, she’d been able to get a good night’s sleep—the first in a while. Still, she was up with the dawn, only to find Tiernan already outside, scenting the air and examining the ground around the edge of the Colony.

  Apparently, he didn’t like waiting any more than Ava did.

  “Anything?” she asked, her breath puffing into clouds in the frosty mountain air as she held out a cup of coffee.

  “You tell me,” he said shortly.

  “What are you talking about?”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Her new cell phone.

  “What are you doing with that?” She dropped the coffee and reached for it, but he held the phone away from her. “You had no right—”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you’d spoken to Caleb? I thought you were all about sharing information and not keeping secrets. Or does that only extend to other people?”

  Ava’s face heated. “I was going to tell you—” It was a lie, and Tiernan knew it.

  He barked out a humorless laugh. “Right.” He threw the phone on the ground and smashed it with the heel of his boot. “I thought you trusted me,” he said, face carved in a scowl.

  Ava saw beyond the anger, though, to the hurt underneath. “I did. I do.” When he stalked away, she trailed after him. “I should have told you. It’s just that Caleb told me—”

  “What?” Tiernan growled, turning on her. “What did your Caleb tell you? Not to tell me? To get away from me?” When she didn’t meet his eyes, he laughed. “Don’t you get it? He’s a Rogue, Ava. You can try and excuse his actions all you want, but he’s not here, is he? He left you to run away.”

  “Shut up.”

  “Ignoring the truth won’t make it disappear.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” she shouted. “You think I don’t know something’s wrong with him? I know it, Tiernan. I’ve known it for a while. I’ve felt it, and I ignored it, and maybe if I hadn’t . . .” She turned away, wiping tears from her eyes. “I know I should have told you. I guess I hoped . . . I don’t know what I hoped.

  “But I am sorry,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I’m really sorry.”

  Tiernan didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then he exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not your fault.”

  “But maybe if I’d—”

  “Ava, it’s not your fault,” he said more firmly. “This is all so new to you. There’s no way you could have known what Emma did to Caleb. You couldn’t have seen this coming.”

  “He said . . .” She cleared her throat, turning back to him. “He said I couldn’t trust the Council. He said it’s been ‘keeping us down’ for too long.” She used air quotes, earning a smirk from
Tiernan. “He denied that Emma did anything to him. Said he’s fine. And he . . . he said I should stay away from the Colony.”

  Tiernan seemed surprised. “Why do you think he’d say that?”

  “I don’t know. Someone was coming so he had to hang up.”

  “Strange.” Tiernan walked toward the tree line, thinking to himself. “Although anyone who knows you knows that telling you not to do something pretty much guarantees you’re going to do it.”

  “Hey!”

  “You can’t deny it’s true,” he said with a halfhearted glower. “The fact you’re standing here is proof.”

  Ava sighed. “I really am sorry.”

  Tiernan shrugged, and his discomfort with the emotion showed in every inch of his tense frame. “I know. It’s okay.”

  Ava cleared her throat. “So . . . have you found anything?”

  He shook his head, walking along the edge of the trees as she followed. “Nothing. Any word from Gideon?”

  “I checked in with him before coming out. I think he might have been up all night. The cloaks haven’t been disturbed, and there’s no sign of anyone. I know I don’t feel anything.” She reached out again with her gift, just to make sure, but the Caleb-shaped hole remained, untouched and jagged.

  “I don’t like it,” Tiernan muttered, crouching as he examined a blade of grass. “None of this makes any kind of sense.”

  Ava said nothing, and trailed after the Protector as he continued to scan the perimeter. Her mind wandered to her discussion with Gideon and all that he had told her, and before she could think better of it, she asked, “You ever been in love, Tiernan?”

  His frown deepened as he crushed a handful of dirt in his palm. He sniffed it before letting it fall to the ground, standing, and brushing his hand off on his jeans. “That’s a weird question.”

  She shrugged. “It’s just . . . Gideon told me last night about Madeleine.”

  “Ah.” He nodded. “You want to know about the bond.” He glanced at her briefly before turning back around to stare out through the trees. “Worried about your boy?”

  “No,” she said, lifting her chin as she crossed her arms almost out of reflex. Ava couldn’t deny that she sounded like a two-year-old about to stomp her foot, and tried to cover her embarrassing curiosity best she could. “I was only wondering if it’s like that for everyone.”