Magic and Shadows: A Collection of YA Fantasy and Paranormal Romances

by T. M. Franklin

  Caleb pointed to a Greyhound sign across the street. They walked into the small bus station, coming to a stop in front of the departures board. “Wait here,” he said after a moment, glancing around the station before heading out the back door. Ava paced nervously, her eyes darting around, before she took a seat on one of the hard plastic chairs. Caleb returned a few minutes later, motioning for her to join him as he walked back out the front entrance.

  “What was that all about?” Ava asked with an irritated wave of her hand.

  “Couldn’t risk leaving it here in town, even if we took the battery out,” Caleb said. “We’ve been monitoring your movements for quite some time. It’s good that you turned it off, but even then, it’s not impossible to track. I put it on a bus to New York, just in case.”

  “New York?”

  Caleb nodded. “It leaves in a few minutes. With any luck, it’ll throw them off the trail. At least long enough for us to get to the safe house.” He looked back down at his phone and pulled out a small piece of paper from his jacket pocket.

  “What are you doing?”

  “The location is encoded. I just have to figure out . . .” He looked back and forth between the paper and phone for a moment, and Ava leaned in, scanning the strange combination of symbols, letters, and numbers.

  She tried to make sense of it, biting her lip as she leaned in a bit closer. Caleb’s breath ruffled the hair at her temple, and Ava stiffened, suddenly very aware of how close they were standing. She swallowed thickly, fighting the urge to jump back like a frightened kitten.

  Then—so slightly that she thought she might have imagined it—Caleb’s breath hitched. A prickle of awareness ran along Ava’s skin, her heart thudding heavily in her chest, and she stepped back purposefully, looking away down the street.

  What in the world was that?

  After a moment, Caleb cleared his throat. “I . . . I think I’ve got it,” he said quietly. Ava spared him a glance, but he was looking down at his phone. “Come on,” he said, turning to the left. “It’s a bit of a hike.”

  Ava took a trembling breath, and followed him toward the edge of town.

  10

  Caleb walked quickly, not daring to look at Ava but focusing closely on the map displayed on his phone instead. He couldn’t explain the strange sensation that had overcome him when she’d stepped so close to him. Or rather, he could explain it, but opted for denial, writing it off as stress-induced hysteria, or something equally sensible.

  Because being attracted to Ava was absolutely, positively not sensible. Not in the least little bit.

  He shook off the thought and turned a corner, and within a few minutes they left the town behind, walking down a tree-lined gravel road, their feet crunching—his a little slower, hers faster as she tried to keep up.

  “Can you . . . maybe slow down a bit?” Ava asked, panting slightly.

  Caleb glanced at her, fighting back his irritation. “We need to keep moving,” he replied shortly.

  “I get that,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But I doubt a few minutes is going to make a big difference, right?”

  Caleb sighed heavily but slowed his stride, and Ava fell into step next to him.

  When she caught her breath, she asked, “So, what exactly is this safe house? And what did you mean when you said it’s cloaked?”

  “It’s a Guardian house,” he replied. “A place where they take humans the Council has targeted. Our people have technology to hide such places—from satellites, radar—even from others of our kind.”

  “So, Tiernan and Katherine won’t be able to sense us there?”

  He shook his head. “Not even the Council will be able to. They use cloaks themselves, but have not yet found a way to penetrate them. It’s not only technology, you see. It’s a combination of technology and manpower—people with gifts of camouflage or energy absorption, for example. It’s different in every location, so there’s no way to crack it, at least not yet.”

  Ava chewed on that for a moment, then turned to him hesitantly. “How long have you been watching me?” she asked.

  Caleb considered feigning innocence but discarded the idea just as quickly. There really wasn’t any point to it, after all. Not anymore. “About six months,” he said. “The Council assigned me to you shortly before you graduated from high school. Your name came up as a possible Half-Breed, and they sent me to determine whether or not it was true.”

  “My name came up? How?”

  Caleb slid his phone into his jacket pocket, now certain where they were headed, and tucked his hands into his jeans, his breath steaming in the frosty air. “We have historians who scan our records—chronologies, genealogies, looking for certain markers of violations by members of the Race.”

  “Violations? You mean the whole intermingling thing, right?”

  Caleb nodded, his lips quirking slightly. “They’ve managed to track down most of the obvious cases, but there are those that are not quite as cut and dried. In your case, there was no direct blood link to the Race that could be found, but certain other indicators raised suspicion.”

  “What kinds of indicators?”

  “The Council utilizes a variety of methods in its research—medical records, standardized tests, police or news reports of unusual or unexplained phenomena, of course.”

  Ava snorted. “Of course.” She frowned. “But none of that applies to me. There’s nothing unusual about me. I didn’t even do that great on my SATs.”

  “It’s not necessarily about the score,” Caleb explained, kicking a rock and watching it bounce away. “Although extraordinary intelligence can be a marker, there are also certain patterns in the way you answer questions that can be indicators as well. Plus, there was your medical history.”

  “What medical history?”

  “Exactly,” Caleb said, as they turned down a long graveled driveway. “You don’t have one, not really. Except for immunizations and your school physicals, you’ve never been to the doctor.”

  “So?”

  “Think about it,” Caleb said, watching her closely. “Have you ever been sick?”

  “Everybody gets sick.”

  “Really?” he asked skeptically. “When was the last time you had the flu? A cold? Say, even a headache? Do you remember?”

  “I had a headache the other day,” she argued. “After you messed with my memory.”

  “That’s different. Other than that?”

  Ava looked down at the ground, kicking up rocks with each step. She rubbed her forehead absently. “That . . . that can’t be possible,” she finally said.

  “Never, right?” Caleb pressed gently. He knew it was difficult to believe. “You’ve never been sick.”

  Her silence was his answer.

  “The thing that’s strange is the bloodline,” he said finally. “I know your dad’s been ill, so it’s obviously not him, but there doesn’t appear to be a link to your mother, either.”

  Ava sighed heavily.

  “What?”

  “There wouldn’t be.” Her voice cracked slightly, although whether from nerves or acceptance, Caleb wasn’t sure. “I was adopted.”

  “Adopted? How did we not know that?” Caleb muttered to himself.

  “It was kept pretty quiet,” Ava answered. “I was abandoned on the steps of a church. I know, how cliché, right?” she said with a slight smirk. “Anyway, my parents had just lost a baby—stillborn, and the priest knew what had happened so he gave me to them. Honestly, I don’t even know if there’s any paperwork for the adoption. It was a small town, and nobody ever asked any questions.”

  Caleb thought for a moment. “Maybe it’s not that strange,” he said. “It might have been the Guardians looking out for you, even then.”

  “You think so?”

  He shrugged. “Weirder things have happened.”

  Ava laughed a little at the understatement, and Caleb found himself smiling in return.

  They rounded a bend, and Ava’s steps faltered.
The gravel drive continued only a few feet before coming to an abrupt stop at a low, stone wall, mossy with age and crumbling in places. Behind it, an empty lot apparently served as the area’s dumping ground. Piles of trash and discarded appliances—even a ratty sofa with springs popping out—littered the frozen ground, a light dusting of frost covering it all. Someone had apparently tried to solve the problem by stringing up barbed wire above the wall, a large “No Dumping” sign dangling from one of the wires.

  Ava stopped, and Caleb looked back at her expectantly.

  “Come on,” he said. “It’s okay.”

  “But there’s nothing there,” she said, waving a hand toward the dumping ground. A deep forest surrounded the lot on three sides, thick brambles twisting between the trees. It looked impenetrable.

  Caleb smiled, holding out a hand. “Trust me,” he said.

  Ava eyed him skeptically, but took his hand and followed him as he headed toward the wall, stepping over it easily and picking his way between the sofa and a broken-down refrigerator. Suddenly, everything wavered and rippled, like a pebble in a pond, and the air seemed to thicken around her. Caleb pulled her forward against the odd resistance, and the next thing she knew, they were back on the gravel drive, the forest parted before them. She gasped in surprise, looking back behind her. She could see the discarded garbage and the stone wall, but the air seemed to shimmer before it, like a wall of water hung between it and them.

  “It’s the cloak,” Caleb explained, as they continued on their way.

  “Weird,” Ava muttered under her breath.

  They topped a slight hill and a large white house came into view. Two-storied, with ivy-wrapped columns running from front porch to roof, it evoked feelings of the antebellum South, and Ava couldn’t help a small smile at the relaxed beauty of the estate. A circular drive wrapped around a concrete fountain, leading to double front doors, each bearing a wrought iron knocker in the shape of a dragon’s head. Caleb smiled at her reassuringly before raising his hand to knock, only to have the door fly open before he even touched the knocker.

  “Caleb!” A petite redhead with bright green eyes emerged from the doorway, wrapping him in a tight hug. “We were wondering what was taking you so long.”

  He smiled. “I take it Bel called you.”

  “Of course,” she said, patting his arm as she turned. “You must be Ava.” The tiny woman wrapped an arm around Ava’s shoulders, leading her into the house. “I’m Audrey. This is my place, for all intents and purposes.”

  Ava started to speak, but Audrey turned back to Caleb. “Shut the door, would you?” she asked, and Ava noticed the lilt of a brogue to her speech. “Did you have any trouble?”

  Caleb shrugged. “Tiernan and Katherine are tracking us, I’m sure,” he said as they walked down a shadowed hall into a large, bright kitchen overlooking the backyard. “We sent Ava’s cell phone on a trip to New York, and I shifted to get us at least part of the way here, so maybe that will slow them down a bit.”

  Audrey nodded, her attention returning to Ava. “Well, you’re safe now. There’s no way they’ll find us through the cloak.” She squeezed Ava’s shoulders sympathetically. “This must be a lot to take in,” she said. “How about a cup of tea and we’ll chat, yes?”

  Ava nodded, a bit overwhelmed by the petite woman’s personality. She filled a kettle, setting it on the stove as Caleb walked to the back windows to look out at the expansive yard edged by a looming forest. Ava could make out a few dark figures walking around.

  “You brought in some recruits?” Caleb asked.

  Audrey smiled. “Bel did. I suppose it’s a good precaution, given the situation.”

  “Any word from the Council?”

  Audrey shot a concerned glance Ava’s way before shaking her head slightly.

  No one said anything for a while, the only sound the tinkle of teacups and silver as Audrey prepared the tea and a tray of sandwiches. When she slid it in front of Ava, her stomach growled, and she realized she was famished.

  “Help yourself,” Audrey said with a grin.

  Ava dug in without a second thought, devouring a half a sandwich and starting another before taking a sip of the strong, hot tea. Audrey patted her hand, smiling as if greatly pleased.

  Caleb sat down next to Ava, taking his own sandwich and consuming it in two big bites. Audrey frowned at him.

  “Manners, boy,” she chided.

  Caleb shrugged, swallowing the food with a swig of tea.

  “I used to babysit this rascal . . . known him for years,” she told Ava. “Since he was in short pants, you know? Never could hold himself back when there was food to be had.”

  Ava smiled at the thought of a young Caleb, all awkward elbows and knees, dark hair hanging in his wide, innocent eyes. “You don’t look old enough,” she said without thinking, taking in the woman’s unlined skin and vivid hair without a touch of gray. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-five years old. “I mean . . . to know him that long. You seem so . . . young. Not that you’d have to be old . . .” Ava flushed in embarrassment, but Audrey just laughed.

  “I’m very . . . well-preserved,” she said with a sidelong glance at Caleb. He smirked in response, and Ava was certain she missed something.

  Again.

  But before she had time to pursue it, Audrey asked, “So, what’s your plan?”

  Ava turned to Caleb expectantly, only to find him tearing the crusts from another sandwich.

  “Bel mentioned the colony?” Audrey continued, eyes darting between them cautiously. “Or perhaps I misunderstood.”

  “Colony?” Ava asked. “What colony?”

  Caleb sighed heavily and frowned at Audrey before returning his gaze to his mangled sandwich. “A Guardian colony,” he replied curtly. “Near Ontario.”

  “Ontario?” Ava gaped. “As in Canada?”

  “Oh, it’s lovely, dear,” Audrey said, pouring her more tea. “So much space and the people are so nice. You’ll love it.”

  “But . . .” Ava stammered. “I can’t go to Canada. I have school and my parents . . . Lucy. I can’t just disappear off the face of the earth. People will notice.”

  “Oh, that’s not a problem,” Audrey said with a shrug. “We have people to deal with that kind of thing.”

  Ava’s spine chilled. “What do you mean by that?” She turned to Caleb accusingly. “You people better not do anything to my family. What kind of monsters are you?”

  Caleb rolled his eyes. “Nobody’s going to hurt anyone, Ava, for God’s sake.” He turned a little on his stool to look into her eyes. “It’s easy to excuse an absence. Maybe you won a fellowship to study a semester in Europe . . . or you got a student internship with a publishing house in New York.”

  “Nobody will believe that,” Ava huffed, although she was relieved that it wasn’t something more sinister.

  “With a little push, they would,” Caleb said quietly.

  “You mean your little trick,” she replied, pointing a finger at her forehead. “You’ll mess with their minds.”

  Caleb shrugged. “Nothing too invasive. And only as a last resort.”

  “Oh, well then, I guess that’s fine,” Ava snapped. “As long as it’s as a last resort.”

  “Look,” Caleb said, shoving away his plate so he could lean on the counter. “I know it’s not the ideal solution, but my primary goal right now is keeping you safe. The only way I can see to do that is to get you to the colony.”

  “Why can’t I just talk to this Council?” Ava asked. “I’m not going to tell anyone about all of this. And you can do your little mind-blur thing and erase it all if that will make them feel better.” She abandoned her tea, suddenly feeling a bit nauseous. “I’m not one of you. I’m normal.”

  Caleb sighed heavily, and she could feel Audrey’s wary eyes.

  “It’s not that simple, Ava,” Caleb said.

  “Why not? I mean, I’m not convinced I can do anything special, really. The things you’ve talked abo
ut could all be coincidences,” she said, grasping for any viable argument. “And I’d imagine to really become good at it you have to—I don’t know—train and practice or whatever, right?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, if I don’t, then I won’t be able to cause any problems. You wipe my memory clean, send me back to school and everything goes back to normal.” Ava brushed her hands together, forcing a bright smile on her face.

  Caleb’s jaw tightened, and Audrey interjected quietly, “The Council will never let that happen, dear.”

  “Why not?” Ava threw up her hands.

  “First of all, the blur doesn’t work on you, at least not permanently,” Caleb said. “The last time, I put all I had into it—it should have ‘wiped you clean’, as you put it. But you fought through it.”

  “Well, can’t you do that push thing? Make me not want to remember?”

  “You don’t get it,” Caleb retorted. “If you were normal—human, and only human—you shouldn’t have been able to regain those memories.”

  “Maybe I’m just special,” Ava argued stubbornly. “A strong mind, like you said.”

  Caleb rubbed his hands over his face and looked to Audrey for assistance.

  “Your memories are only part of the problem,” she said. “The Council’s greatest fear—next to exposure—is untrained and uncontrolled power. If you refuse to acknowledge your gifts and gain control of them, you will be seen as a threat.”

  “So I’ll go to them and show them I’m not a threat.”

  “No,” Caleb said abruptly.

  “Why not?”

  He took a deep breath. “If you go before the Council, they will test you thoroughly. They’ll be able to determine what, if any, abilities you have—dormant or otherwise.”

  When he paused, Ava said impatiently, “Okay . . .”

  He flashed her an irritated glare. “If they determine you have even the potential for abilities that could pose a threat to the Race—if you go before them without first gaining control of those powers—they won’t take the time to train you,” he said ominously. “Their first priority will be to eliminate the threat.”