Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  TWENTY-SIX

  I brush my teeth and climb into bed. For a few minutes I stare at the ceiling and mentally prepare myself for going back to school tomorrow. In nearly every way, I’m a different person than I was before. Only the weekend has passed for my teachers and classmates, but for me it feels like a month of years. And what a momentous time of upheaval and transformation it was.

  Unbidden images of Ryder falling from that walkway flash through my mind, causing my insides to shudder. I curl into a fetal position and wrap my arms around myself. I know in time I’ll be better equipped to parse through the memories of my time in Domerica. But getting through these next few weeks of school and the multitude of special activities for seniors has to be my top priority. Take it in small bites Narowyn told me. Don’t try to swallow it whole.

  I close my eyes and try to sleep. Unconsciously my thoughts drift to Asher and Liv and what they may be doing at his place. I reach over and flip on my lamp. Why am I thinking about them?

  Is it jealousy? Do I subconsciously wish for a relationship with Asher? Am I upset that Liv is more interested in him than me at the moment? Or do I have a sick desire for Asher to stay locked in the chains of unrequited love for me, while I play the tragic heroine who’ll never recover from her husband’s death?

  I try to objectively imagine Ash and me together at some point in the future—when I’m not such a jagged mess of emotions. It doesn’t sit right in my heart. If I really wanted to be with him, wouldn’t I feel it somewhere inside? Even now, going through all this grief and pain? I know I would. So that’s not the reason.

  And I don’t think it’s because I crave Liv’s undivided attention. She’s been wearing on my nerves all weekend. That only leaves option number three, and I really don’t want to be that person.

  I suppose it’s normal to want people to love you. Hell, Liv needs to have everyone’s undying adulation around the clock. Asher may have kissed Liv to make me jealous, or he may really be interested in her. Either way, I need to be honest with him about my feelings.

  I reach under my pillow and withdraw the folded sketch of Ryder. The charcoal lines of the drawing are beginning to fade a bit from sliding it in and out from under my pillow. Sighing deeply, I wonder for the thousandth time why it couldn’t have been different. Why couldn’t we have just lived happily ever after? I replace the sketch in its secret spot. “Goodnight, love,” I whisper to the darkened room.

  * * *

  My stomach is nervous and jittery as I dress for school. You’d think it was my first day of kindergarten, rather than the home stretch of my high school career.

  “Breakfast,” Dad calls down to me.

  “Be right there.” I grab my book bag and trudge up the stairs.

  Dad’s in the kitchen scooping scrambled eggs in to a bowl. “Morning,” he says when he sees me.

  “Dad, you shaved!” I peck his whisker-free cheek.

  He chuckles. “I shave every morning, sweetheart. You kids may find that unshaven look sexy, but the Hospital Administration considers it poor grooming.”

  Oops. That must mean we’ve navigated across the little cosmic ripple and are back to normal.

  “Well, you look good,” I say, trying to recover from my slip.

  He glances down at his same old faded scrubs. “Thanks. Glad you’re so upbeat today. You excited to see Drew?”

  “Yeah, I’ve kind of missed him. Anyway, I’m just having toast this morning. My tummy’s a little iffy.”

  “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”

  “Don’t worry, it’s nothing. I’ll see you tonight at Lisa’s.” I snag a slice of toast from the plate.

  On my way out, I peek into the laundry room. Brady’s bowl and litter box are gone. I’m going to miss that cat.

  My usual spot’s free in the senior parking lot. Inside, Liv’s already waiting for me at my locker.

  “I think I’m in love,” she gushes, hugging her books to her chest.

  “That’s great, Liv. Asher’s a really nice guy.”

  “Oh, I’m not in love with him. We went dancing last night after we left you, and I met this guy, Antonio. He’s so Latin and sooo hot. You’ve got to see him, Jade.” She fumbles in her purse. “I tried to take a picture of him with my phone. I was going to put it on Instagram, but it didn’t come out very well.”

  “What the hell, Liv? You just dumped Asher?”

  “Oh he didn’t care. He danced with tons of other girls. I mean that one kiss was totally toe-curling, and after he showed me his place, I was like ready to get all cozy. Only, he was like let’s go somewhere. So I took him to Marou.”

  She shoves her phone in my face, and I see a blurry photo of a black-haired dude with long sideburns and huge, soulful eyes. I smile and shake my head. Why am I even surprised? “Yeah he’s a hottie all right. Can’t wait to meet him.”

  The first period bell rings, and we hurry off to class. We take our usual seats, and I listen to my classmates chatter about going off to college while Liv flirts with the two football players sitting behind us. Others in the class are dozing off, surreptitiously texting under the desk, or finishing homework for other classes. It strikes me as surreal to be back in this setting when only days ago I was caught up in an epic battle, attempting to save my family, myself, and my adopted country. Although I know in my heart the activities taking place in this tiny classroom have significance and meaning for my classmates, for me it’s all trivial and irrelevant when compared with what I just went through and what lies ahead of me.

  The rumor that I’m considering Oxford gets around quickly. I halfway expect the placement office to call me out on the lie. But Narowyn says if anyone bothers to check, my acceptance and enrollment will appear perfectly legit on the Oxford records. Besides, the placement counselors are too harried focusing on students who didn’t get accepted anywhere to worry about me.

  Physics class is weird. Mr. Nordgren’s replacement, Mr. Sherman, is a sour-faced old guy with exactly three strands of white hair plastered to his shiny scalp. He says we’re woefully behind on studying the AP exam materials, and he loads us up with a ton of homework. Just what we need when we’ve already mentally checked out of high school.

  At first, I’m completely annoyed, until it dawns on me that I don’t care about the exam because I’m not really going to college. But then that realization is itself unnerving. I always pictured myself as a college grad. Narowyn says I’ll be in Transcender training, but I don’t know exactly what that includes. I hope my education doesn’t hit a brick wall in Arumel. There’s still so much I want to learn.

  After seventh period, Liv invites me to hang out with her and Antonio at her house. I take a pass, though. I promised Ash I’d come straight home from school. Plus, he needs to know that Dad is beardless again and all traces of Brady have evaporated.

  Asher’s waiting on my front steps when I drive up.

  “Hey. You been here long?” I ask.

  “Nah. I came over early to get away from the paint fumes. The place looks a lot better, though. How was school?”

  “It was okay.” I unlock the front door for us. “Nordgren’s replacement is kind of a Physics Nazi, though. I have a bunch of homework—but it’s only a few more weeks.” I drop my book bag near the stairs, and we head for the kitchen.

  “Brady’s gone,” I say, examining the contents of the fridge.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean we’re back to normal. Dad’s clean-shaven and Brady and all his stuff have disappeared. It’s so bizarre.” I pull out the leftover pizza and set it on the counter.

  “Guess Narowyn was right about that cosmic wrinkle thing. Normal’s good,” he says.

  “Yeah, but I’d kind of gotten used to the little fur ball.”

  “You talking about your dad’s beard or the cat?”

  “Ha, ha. By the way, we’re going to Lisa’s for dinner tonight and you’re invited. Dad’s picking Drew up at the airport and they�
�ll meet us there.”

  “All right. Sounds good.” Ash puts slices of pizza on napkins for us, and I grab two sodas.

  We carry our food and drinks to the living room. “So, I hear you and Liv went dancing after you left here.”

  “Yeah, I wanted to see what Madison night life was like, and you seemed kind of tired.” He leans back on the couch and props his feet on the coffee table. “We had an interesting time.”

  “Look, Ash, I’m sorry about Liv. It’s not that she’s totally unfeeling. She just has a short attention span. Are you okay?”

  He grins. “Thanks for worrying about me, Mom. I’m fine. I realized kissing her was a big mistake as soon as we got to my place. She made it clear she was interested in more, and, well, I thought about the fact that I’m only here for a few weeks. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “You’re a nice guy,” I say, clinking my soda can on his.

  “That’s what I keep telling you.” He treats me to a slow sexy smile.

  I’m not sure if he’s flirting or just being Ash, but I concentrate on picking the pepperoni off my pizza.

  “How are you holding up?” he asks. “It must be hard seeing all those people and having to act like nothing’s happened to you.”

  “I have my ups and downs. It hasn’t all sunk in yet. It makes me crazy not knowing what’s happening in Domerica, though.” I twist at my TPD bracelet.

  “Try not to dwell on that, Jade. You can’t be anywhere but here right now. Narowyn made that clear. She won’t be very happy if you defy her orders.”

  Whether from frustration, exhaustion, or the constant gnawing pain, I don’t know. But something inside me snaps and the floodgates fly open sending a river of dammed up tears streaming down my face.

  Asher tosses his pizza on the table and puts a steady hand on my shuddering shoulder. “Whoa, damn, Jade, I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

  I sniff hard. “No, it’s not you. Everything’s just catching up with me. I’m sick of pretending everything’s okay when it’s not, and … I think I’m just tired. Maybe a nap before dinner would do me good.”

  “You sure you’re going to be okay?

  “Yeah, I’m sure. I’ll be fine. How about I pick you up for dinner at six-thirty?”

  “All right. I’d better check on the painters anyway. Just don’t answer the door. Okay? And call me if you need me.”

  “I will,” I snuffle.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Dinner at Lisa’s turns out to be a kind of graduation/welcome home celebration for me and Drew. It’s great to see Drew again. His skin is tan, and his sun-kissed tawny curls are impeccably disheveled, as usual. He and Asher hit it off right away, and Drew challenges him to a ping-pong tournament at Lisa’s outdoor table.

  Lisa has prepared all our favorite foods, plus baked two cakes—a towering death by chocolate layer cake for me and a coconut, pineapple, macadamia nut concoction for Drew. She’s probably mostly trying to impress Dad, but I respect the woman’s efforts.

  Ash and I are the first to leave the little party. Mental exhaustion weighs heavy on my shoulders, and thoughts of my snug bed beckon to me. Lisa puts leftovers into plastic containers to send home with an appreciative Asher. Dad and Drew promise to be along shortly.

  Asher’s front porch light burns soft yellow illumination across his threshold as we pull into his driveway. “You going to be okay sleeping with all the paint fumes?” I ask.

  “It’ll be fine. I left the windows open, so it shouldn’t be too strong. Let’s have dinner over here tomorrow. The new carpet will be laid, and I’ll have all the furniture arranged. We may have to order Chinese, though. It’ll probably take me most of the day to put everything together. By the way, does your dad have a power drill I can borrow?”

  “Yeah. You want me to bring it over?”

  “Nah. You go inside and lock the doors. I’ll put this food in the fridge and come over in a few minutes to get it.”

  “Sure. See you in a bit.”

  When I reach home, I park at the curb so Dad can pull into the garage. I unfasten my seatbelt and reach for my phone and purse on the passenger seat. My driver’s side door abruptly swings open, and something cold and heavy clamps hard around my neck.

  “What the—?” I reach up to my throat, but my arm is roughly yanked away by a man dressed in black. He drags me out of my seat and shoves me up against the car. A gloved hand grasps my wrist and claws at my TPD bracelet.

  Years of Tae Kwan Do training click in immediately. I wrench my arm away and rotate out of his grasp. Using the car as leverage, I kick out hard. My foot rams into the man’s groin area. The impact causes him to stagger back, but other than that, he seems unfazed. His face remains placid—nearly devoid of expression. I don’t understand. Titanium athletic cup?

  I step away from the car and assume a fighting stance, with my weight on my back foot. He lumbers toward me. This time I give it all I’ve got—a spin kick to the jaw, my personal specialty. His head jerks violently to the side, but he remains standing. Shit! He should be flat on his face.

  All at once I get it—the guy’s an automaton. It’s the only explanation. In seconds he recovers and comes at me again.

  To hell with this. I reach for my bracelet and double click the latch. Nothing happens. So I scream my lungs out for help. I barely see the blur of his fist before it connects with my cheek. Yeow! The pavement rushes up to meet me, the air slams out of my lungs, and my entire body feels broken.

  I will myself to get up, but the robot drops heavily onto my torso, pinning my arms to the ground. He yanks the TPD bracelet from my immobilized wrist and hurls it across the street. Reaching to his side, he unsnaps his gun holster. Adrenaline sizzles in my veins, and my brain kicks into overdrive.

  I’m not going down like this. I struggle to flip over on my side and twist out from under him. I know how to do this. But it doesn’t work—not even a little. He withdraws his gun slowly, and aims it at my forehead.

  Mustering the energy from every cell in my body, I give it one last herculean try. NO! I roar, freeing my hand and shoving it in his face.

  Incredibly, he does a double backward somersault through the air and scuds across the pavement.

  What the hell? I don’t know what just happened, and I don’t care. I push up from the ground and make a stumbling run for it.

  Help! I shriek. The kitten heel on my shoe snags on a manhole cover, and I go down hard. My head slams against blacktop rattling my teeth. The Northern Lights explode behind my eyes.

  My aching brain knows I’ve got to get out of here, but my body isn’t responding. After a second or two, the sound of thudding footfalls reaches my ears. I brace for the worst. I’m going to die. Please be there for me, Ryder. Please find me.

  A hulking body looms above me, and Urick’s face comes into focus. “You all right?” He clutches a long wicked blade in his right hand. In his left, he holds the head of the robot that attacked me. He pitches it to the curb, and extends his hand for me.

  Unsteadily, I clamber to my feet. “God, Urick, I’m so glad you’re here,” I gulp for air. “That thing almost killed me.”

  “I will take you to Asher. Then we will remove this bot to Arumel. We must report that IUGA has tried to harm you once again.”

  For the first time I notice Urick’s not alone. The ebony-skinned beauty with the brutal ponytail clacks up in stiletto knee-high boots and holds out my bracelet.

  “Here. You’ll need this,” she says.

  I make a meager effort to reach for it, but my arms feel like spaghetti. She lifts my hand and places the bracelet on my wrist.

  “She’s in shock,” Ponytail says to Urick. “Her skin is cold as ice.”

  Urick sheathes his blade and lifts me in his arms.

  Running footsteps echo in the street behind us. “Holy Sweet Jesus. What happened?” Asher asks, taking in the scene.

  “A bot. Must be IUGA’s,” Urick gestures to the headless corpse lying in the gutter
.

  “Get her inside.” Asher says, scooping up my keys from the pavement. He unlocks my front door, and Urick carries me into the living room.

  He lays me down and props pillows under my feet. “She’s in shock,” he tells Asher. “He put a dog collar on her.”

  Ash sits next to me and unclamps the metal thing around my neck. “Goddamned bastards.” He holds it out for me to see. It’s a flat ring of shiny silver metal that does sort of look like a dog collar, only it has a flashing red plastic square in the center.

  “What is that?” I run my fingers along the scratches on my neck.