Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  The hole in my heart throbs constantly while I unpack boxes of our family stuff. By outward appearances only my address has changed. No one could ever guess the real truth—that I have changed completely. My experiences in Domerica are an indelible part of me now. They will influence my view of the world for the rest of my life. The love I shared with Ryder will be my eternal beacon. The hope that I’ll someday see him again will keep me hanging on. No matter how many years come between us, he’ll forever be the love of my life.

  It makes me a little crazy not knowing what happened after my disappearance. I hope and pray that Ryder is safe and will somehow find happiness again. I’m glad and a little proud to think that he and the rest of the Unicoi nation will soon be living in Domerica—assuming the dome survived. I refuse to consider the alternative.

  I work without a break throughout the afternoon, and get most of the boxes unpacked. I organize the kitchen and set up the shared family living space, saving my room for last.

  My new room is about half the size of my old one. I gaze at the stacks of boxes, and wonder how I’ll ever get all my things to fit. Sure they’re just things, but each one of them represents a treasured piece of my old life. I won’t easily give them up.

  I lose all track of time while I work. Old memories are revived by each new item I unwrap. These are the things that make up my little world in Madison: my music, my books, my photo albums, my jewelry box (miniscule compared to Princess Jaden’s). I unconsciously reach for the silver wolf necklace now missing from my neck, and a sharp pain pierces my heart.

  Around midnight, Dad pokes his head in my room. “It’s getting late, Jade. Why don’t you call it a night?” he says.

  I sit on the floor placing my books in the half-size bookcase I’ve managed to wedge inside the already over-stuffed closet. “I will Dad. Just a few more things to do.”

  “All right. Don’t make it too late, though.” He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle the way they always did before Mom died. He seems different. Maybe it’s getting out of that house full of memories, or maybe it’s the moment of understanding we shared this morning. Whatever it is, I’m glad to see him smile again.

  “I won’t be much longer,” I say. “Hey Dad?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you ever thought of growing a beard?”

  He rubs his chin. “I don’t know. Do you think I need one?”

  “It might look nice.”

  “I’ll give it some thought,” he says. He glances at my disorganized desk. “Has Drew hooked up the network yet?” he asks. “You guys are going to need it for school.”

  “I don’t think so, but I’ll remind him tomorrow.”

  “Okay, g’night, sweetheart.”

  “G’night, Dad.”

  I look over at the top of my desk, my eyes resting on my laptop, and suddenly it hits me—if there’s a Ryder Blackthorn on this earth, I can find him! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before. I don’t have to sit around waiting for fate to take its course. This isn’t backward Domerica. I have the internet!

  I know his name, birth date, and his parents’ names. That’s enough to get started. If I have to contact every Blackthorn in the United States, or the world for that matter, I’ll do it. It might take years, but I don’t care. A surge of shiny new hope swells inside of me.

  I have a plan. If I can find Ryder and arrange to meet him somehow, the bond between us will be activated. According to Ralston we have a contract to be together. I know if I set my mind to it, I can make it happen. I will make it happen!

  EPILOGUE

  ONE YEAR LATER

  The doorbell rings. Ten-thirty on Saturday morning. Kind of an odd time for visitors. Dad’s working the early shift at the hospital because he has another date with Lisa tonight. They’ve been seeing a lot of each other lately. Drew’s still in Durham taking finals at the end of his freshman year at Duke.

  I check the peephole and reluctantly open the front door to a uniformed police officer.

  “Good morning, Miss Beckett. Nice to see you again,” he says, smiling broadly.

  “Hello, Officer Wilson. Can’t say I’m thrilled to see you.”

  “May I come in?’

  I step back from the doorway and gesture him inside. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you, but this should only take a minute,” he says, pulling his little black notebook from his belt. He flips to a page in the middle of the book. “I’m sorry to say the department has received another call about you.” He looks up from his notes, his eyes a warm chocolate brown. “You know, Miss Beckett, I kind of thought you’d finally given up the ghost; things have been so quiet these past few months.” He continues with a disappointed shake of his head. “But now we get this call from a lady named…” He checks his notes, “Catherine Blackthorn. Ring a bell?”

  I fold my arms across my chest and stare at him without responding.

  “She says you’ve been harassing her for the past two weeks. First on the phone and then at her home in Glastonbury.” He taps a finger on the notebook page. “Even says here you accosted her in Saks Fifth Avenue while she was shopping in Manhattan. I assume that wasn’t just a chance meeting?”

  “No, I followed her,” I say. “But that’s out of your jurisdiction.”

  “Be that as it may, it’s still part of a pattern of harassment. Sounds like stalking, if you ask me.”

  “I’m not harassing her. She just said that because she’s never liked me.”

  “She claims she’s never even met you, Miss Beckett.” He spreads his arms in a gimme-a-break gesture. “She doesn’t know who you are, and the lady’s scared. You can’t blame her.”

  “Has she filed a complaint?”

  “Not at this time.” He closes his notebook and puts his hands on his hips. “I managed to convince her you’re harmless. I assured her your offensive behavior would cease immediately. Do I make myself clear on that?”

  “Well, what exactly would be considered offensive behavior?”

  “Miss Beckett! I don’t want you having any contact with this woman whatsoever. That means no phone calls, no visits to her neighborhood, no showin’ up in her favorite department store, either.”

  “Oh come on, what if it’s just a coincidence? Maybe we have the same taste in clothes.”

  “Look Miss Beckett, I would hate to have to arrest you. I know you’re starting at Yale in the fall, and I don’t believe they would consider stalking an acceptable extracurricular activity.”

  Okay, now he has my attention. “I’m not stalking her, I just want to know where her brother is.”

  “I don’t get it,” he says, scratching his head. “What made you latch onto this woman?”

  “She’s his sister. After a year I finally found his family, and it turns out they’re right here in Connecticut. But he’s not living with them, and she won’t tell me where he is.”

  “Well, of course not. She’s petrified. She thinks you’re some kind of loony-tune. She’s not going to tell you how to find her brother.”

  “I just want to know where he is,” I say through gritted teeth.

  A year’s worth of frustration and disappointment threaten to overwhelm me. All that time, and not one iota of evidence had surfaced that Ryder Blackthorn was anything other than a dream. At moments during the last twelve months I even doubted my own sanity. But then I saw her! I saw Catherine with my own eyes. That’s all the proof I need. I’m so close—closer than I’ve ever been. I can’t stop now even if it means not going to Yale. Hot tears sting my eyes.

  Officer Wilson stands with his hands on his hips, watching me for a moment. “Look Miss Beckett,” he says gently, “are you sure this is even the right guy? You’ve had a few missteps already.”

  “Yes. It’s him. I know Catherine. I know she’s his sister.”

  “Why does she say she’s never met you before?”

  I wave my hand dismissively. “She just doesn’t remember. It’s been a long tim
e, and she never liked me anyway,” I repeat, swiping tears from my cheeks.

  He looks skeptical. “Yeah, well, she also says anyone who is really a friend of her brother would know where he is.”

  “What?” I spring from the couch. “She told you where he is?”

  “Whoa.” He holds up both hands. “You know I can’t give you any of that kind of information. That would be viewed as facilitating the harassment. I’m here to put an end to it. Besides, I can guarantee you won’t find him by following Miss Blackthorn around.”

  “Why do you say that? Is he okay? He’s still alive isn’t he?” Fear grips my insides, and I begin crying in earnest. “Please just tell me that much.”

  “Miss Beckett, calm down, please. He’s fine.” Officer Wilson takes my elbow and eases me back down onto the couch.

  I hold my face in my hands, sobbing. “Thank you,” I choke. “Thank you. If you only knew what I’ve been through this past year, not knowing where he is, or whether he is even alive. It’s been torture.”

  He pats my shoulder. “Can I get you a glass of water or something?”

  “No, thanks. I’ll be okay.” I sniff and wipe my nose with my hand.

  He pulls a snowy white handkerchief from his pocket and gives it to me. “You’ve had a rough stretch these last couple of years, haven’t you? What with losing your mamma and now this boy…” he trails off.

  “You know about my mom?”

  “‘Course. Everybody knew Judge Beckett. She was one classy lady. Tough-minded, but always fair.” His voice softens. “I bet you miss her, don’t you?”

  I nod, blotting my tears with his handkerchief.

  “Oh, what the hell!” he says, pulling out his notebook again. “If anybody asks, you didn’t hear this from me.”

  My heart stops beating for a second. I can’t believe it. He’s going to tell me where to find Ryder.

  He flips through a few pages and pauses. “Okay, according to his sis he joined the Peace Corps about a year and a half ago. He’s been in Africa—Zambia to be exact. Got six months left to go. Should be back by Christmas.”

  He points a finger at me, accompanied by a stern look. “But I’m warning you young lady, I don’t want to be getting any calls from Mister Blackthorn come December. If the man doesn’t want to see you, you got to accept that, child.”

  His tone turns fatherly. “Don’t go making a fool of yourself, all right? You got too much going on to be throwing it away on some man.”

  Joy and relief flood through my heart. I bounce up and down like a kindergartener and hug Officer Wilson’s neck, causing him to drop his notebook. I close my eyes and silently thank all the angels in heaven. I resolve to donate all my earthly belongings to charity, become a vegan, and go to church every Sunday. Yippee! I’ve found him!

  “I promise you won’t be getting any more calls about me,” I say. “I swear I’ll never harass another Blackthorn for as long as I live. I’ll be the best law-abiding citizen you’ve ever seen. Just thank you.” I try to hug him again, but he holds up his hands and takes a step back.

  “That’s not necessary,” he says. “Keep your promise to me, and we’ll both be happy.” Officer Wilson retrieves his notebook from the floor and heads for the door.

  I’m still dancing with delight, as I show him out. He smiles and shakes his head.

  “This guy must really be somethin’ special.”

  “He is. Take care, Officer Wilson, and thanks again.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he says, and walks back to his cruiser.

  Yes! Ryder’s alive! He’s in Africa, and he’ll be back in Connecticut by Christmas. Now the question is: Can I wait until Christmas to contact him? The answer is a resounding NO! The acute pain I’ve suffered over losing him has settled into a dull, throbbing ache over the past year, but it’s always with me, and Ryder Blackthorn is the only cure.

  I consider contacting the Peace Corps to find a way to get a letter to him. But what will I say in the letter? “You don’t know me, but I love you with all my heart…” No, that’ll never work. I need to do this in person. I need to see his beautiful face again, and the sooner the better.

  The outline of a plan begins to form in my mind. Graduation is only a few weeks away, and I’ve got a couple of months off before classes start at Yale. I’ll go to Zambia and find Ryder. It’s the only reasonable thing to do. Of course it will require a lot more money than I currently have stuffed in the envelope in my dresser drawer, and Dad will have a fit about the whole thing, but I’ll find a way to do it. Nothing can stop me now.

  My laptop is on the kitchen table, and I Google Zambia. Several sites pop up on the screen. Before I can check them out, though, the doorbell rings again. Probably Officer Wilson back for his handkerchief. Where did I put that thing? I pat my pockets.

  I swing open the front door and gasp. He’s wearing a charcoal gray business suit and his sandy hair is a little thinner, but there’s no mistaking my old friend, Agent Ralston.

  “Ralston!” I squeal, throwing my arms around his neck.

  He chuckles, nearly thrown off balance. “Hello Jaden. Still as exuberant as ever, I see.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  He straightens his crushed lapels. “May I come in?”

  “Of course. Come in.” I hold the door for him, and he steps into the small living room. I catch a glimpse of a long black limousine idling in the driveway.

  “Hmm, nice ride. Is that how IUGA agents are getting around these days?”

  “Not really, but I needed reliable transportation today.”

  I motion for him to sit on the couch, and I take the chair across from him. “Rals, it’s good to see you,” I say. “I’m still pissed at you for sending me home against my will, but I’ve missed you over the past year. I want you to know I appreciate the way you took good care of me while I was in Domerica.”

  “Don’t mention it, old girl. I’m sorry about the little deception, but my director at the time felt things would be easier for you and your family if you were able to resume your life exactly where you left off. He envisioned unrestrained chaos if the Transcenders had been allowed to intercede, or if you had been allowed to remain in Domerica.”

  “Well, I didn’t want to come back at all. But you’re probably right—it was probably best for all of us.”

  He sits on the edge of the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. “You seem happy, Jade?”

  “I’m happy today. Ralston, I’ve found him!”

  “I suppose I don’t have to ask who?”

  “Ryder. I found Ryder.”

  “Yes? And I presume you’ve already worked out a way to get to Zambia?”

  “Actually, I was just looking at that. Wait a minute. You knew he was there?”

  “Of course.”

  For the first time I notice that Ralston seems a little keyed-up. “Can I get you some tea or something?” I ask, hoping he plans to stay for a few minutes. I have tons of questions for him.

  “No, thank you.” He looks at his watch. “There is really no time for that.”

  “Okay. So I assume you didn’t come here just to check on me, and I know you didn’t come to tell me where to find Ryder, so why are you here?”

  “Has anyone else been to see you?”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you mean? Like who?”

  “Like Asher or another Transcender.”

  “No. Why?”

  He brushes off the question with his hand. “Never mind.” His mouth forms a taut line and his eyes lock onto mine. “The thing is, Jade, I’ve come to take you back.”

  I blink at him. “Back? Back to Domerica?”

  “Yes.”

  “But no…” I say, confused. “I’ve just found Ryder, and I’m home now. I’m going to Yale in the fall. Hey, weren’t you the one who told me the whole entire universe would be totally screwed up if I didn’t come home where I belong? Didn’t you say there are laws against Transcenders interfering with
the natural order of the universes? That scared me, you know.”

  “I might have implied that once or twice.” He sits, nervously bobbing his legs. “But things have changed. IUGA has sent me here to take you back.”