“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 about 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.”
Ava blinked at him in disbelief for a moment before sinking down on the stool. “You mean . . . you mean they’ll kill me.”
Silence was her answer.
“So,” she said resignedly. “Canada, huh? Guess I better get a passport.”
Audrey grinned. “Oh, I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
For the first time since her nightmares came to life and she’d encountered Tiernan, Ava finally felt safe. She still worried about the people she left behind—especially her parents—but Caleb assured her that the college had no reason to raise the alarm—Lucy had been dealt with—and it would all be over soon.
She didn’t bother asking for details. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
Instead, she tried to enjoy the brief respite from fear. As Audrey led her to a brightly lit room with a little balcony overlooking the back lawn, she found herself actually able to relax.
“There are towels in the bathroom, and shampoo and soap—an extra toothbrush if you need it,” she said, gesturing to an open doorway on the other side of the four-poster bed. “And if you need anything else, I’m just down the hall.” She set an extra blanket on the end of the bed with a smile. “Please make yourself at home, Ava. I mean that.”
“Thank you. Really. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”
Audrey smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
Ava indulged in a long, hot bath, fragrant with a citrusy bath oil, and slipped on the T-shirt and sweats Audrey had thoughtfully left for her before sliding into the cool sheets with an indulgent smile. She was exhausted, and looking forward to a good night’s sleep for a change. She closed her eyes . . .
. . . and tossed and turned for the next hour.
“Seriously?” she muttered, slapping her arms against the bed as she glared up at the ceiling. She huffed, blowing a strand of hair away from her face, then flipped back the sheets and got out of bed. Maybe she could make herself some warm milk or something, she thought as she quietly opened the door and slipped out into the hall. Padding barefoot, she stopped suddenly at the sound of running water and low whistling. She rounded a corner to find light pouring from a partially opened door across from the stairs. Curious, she listened for a moment, smiling when a low voice began to sing quietly, and she recognized it as Caleb’s.
If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends1.
Ava fought a giggle. The Spice Girls, Caleb? Really?
Unable to resist, she peeked through the crack in the door, hiding behind the frame. She could just make out Caleb’s bare shoulder as he bent over the sink. Gulping nervously, she pushed the door open a little bit more and had to hold back the gasp at the sight of his bare back.
He was so much bigger than she thought, her eyes widening at the broad width of his shoulders then skimming over the curve of his spine to the low waistline of his jeans. How had she ever found him skinny? Although not nearly as big as Tiernan, he was solid muscle, curves and ripples right where they were supposed to be, arms flexing as he rinsed a razor in the sink, still humming lightly. And . . . was he taller? She had thought he was maybe five eleven, but he had to be at least six two, possibly taller. On top of that, his skin seemed so golden and smooth. It could be some kind of trick of the lights, but Ava could swear it almost . . .
Glowed.
He straightened, and Ava gasped as he met her eyes in the mirror, half his face covered with shaving cream. He jumped slightly in surprise, whipping around to face her.
Oh.
Oh, she thought. His chest.
Her eyes raked down his body involuntarily, taking in the sharply chiseled muscle with unabated interest. He was absolutely—incredibly—perfect.
“Ava.” Caleb grabbed a towel, wiping it across his face before pulling a T-shirt over his head, breaking her trance.
Her eyes snapped back up to his, and her vision blurred for a brief moment.
Then . . . he was just Caleb.
“What?” she said. “What happened?”
“What do you mean?” He turned back to the sink, grabbing his toothbrush and squirting some toothpaste on it. “Did you need something?” he asked, scrubbing his teeth. Ava noticed he didn’t meet her eyes as she watched him in the mirror.
He spat, glancing up at her briefly. “Is something wrong?”
“What did you do?”
“Mmmm dmmbb kmmmm.”
“Caleb!”
He spat again then scooped some water up in his hands to rinse his mouth. “I said ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ ”
Her eyes narrowed as Ava picked up a faint but definite tremor in his voice as he shifted somewhat awkwardly. “Don’t lie to me,” she said quietly. “What did you do? You looked . . . different . . . for a minute. Then you were back to normal. And it felt like when you try to mess with my memories.”
Caleb heaved a sigh, his shoulders slumping as he leaned forward on the sink. After a moment, he turned around slowly, his eyes wary. He took a deep breath and his gaze focused on Ava, sharp and intent, as ve
ry muscle in his body tensed. Ava watched in awe as once again he grew taller, broader, and seemed to glow with otherworldly beauty.
“How . . . ? What . . . ?”
Just as quickly, the vision—or whatever it was—disappeared, and Caleb was normal again. He leaned back, half-sitting on the countertop and frowning slightly. “It’s called a Veil,” he said. “A way for us to . . . fit in while we’re out amongst humans.”
“ ‘A Veil,’ ” Ava repeated dumbly. “Like a disguise? You make yourself look . . . normal?”
“More or less,” Caleb said with an embarrassed half-smile. “We need to be unnoticeable, unremarkable. It’s one of the first abilities we learn to control as small children, and we’re taught to keep it up whenever a human is nearby. It’s actually more of a reflex.”
Ava raised a brow. “So you’re not actually trying to hide from me?”
He shrugged. “It becomes so much of a habit that it’s actually more work to keep it down than to leave it up. Even at home, most people are Veiled, even when they sleep.
“It’s odd, though, that you can see through it. Humans can’t—even most Half-Breeds can’t.”
Ava flopped back against the wall, rubbing her hands over her face. “It must be difficult,” she said finally. “To always be hiding.”
“It’s not so bad. I’m used to it. We all are.”
“But . . . you’re so . . .” She waved a hand vaguely toward him. “So beautiful.”
Caleb flushed, his eyes falling to the floor. “Not really. You should see some of the people back home. They can’t even leave the city, even with a Veil. They’d be too conspicuous.”
“Like an angel,” Ava murmured, half to herself.
Caleb smirked. “Yes, well. They have been mistaken for those in the past.”
“I meant you.” Did she say that out loud?
He reddened again, shrugging in embarrassment as he looked away, unsure of how to respond.
Yes, apparently she did.
Ava cleared her throat and pushed away from the wall. “I’m just going to . . .” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “. . . warm milk . . . or . . . something,” she muttered, turning to flee. She felt like an idiot, fawning over him like that. She’d already been feeling something different for Caleb since the whole running-for-their-lives thing started, but now that she’d seen him in his true form? Yeah. So out of her league. And the last thing she needed was to be drooling over him like a lovesick puppy. A girl had to have some pride, after all.
With a grumble, Ava turned abruptly, abandoning the idea of hiding in the kitchen and opting to hide in her bedroom, instead. After all, there was much less chance Caleb would find her in there. Not to mention, it would give her some time to build up some defenses against her now-obvious attraction to him.
Yeah. She could do this. Strictly business.
She shut the door behind her, leaning back against it with a heavy sigh, her head falling against the wood with a low thunk. She closed her eyes, and the image of Caleb, shirtless and gorgeous, flashed behind her lids. With a frustrated groan, she strode to her bed, flopping onto her stomach and wrapping her arms tightly around a pillow.
This was going to be tougher than she thought.
1 Wannabe by Spice Girls (1996). Lyrics by Victoria Beckham, Melanie Brown, Emma Bunton, Melanie Chisholm, Geri Halliwell, Matt Rowe, and Richard Stannard.
Chapter 11
Caleb sipped his coffee and watched anxiously while leaning against the doorframe and pretending not to be anxious. Across the frosty lawn, Ava and Audrey spoke in low voices; the looming figures around the perimeter should have assured him that they were safe.
Caleb, however, did not feel particularly assured.
After much discussion, Audrey convinced him that it would be better for her to take on Ava’s training, or at least as much of it as they could do with the limited resources at the safe house. The colony would have testing equipment similar to the Council’s, as well as more-experienced trainers, but Caleb agreed that it was too soon to leave. Audrey’s Guardian connections were monitoring Tiernan and Katherine, as well as the Council, and they knew all resources were being used to track Ava down.
His apprehension aside, Caleb knew they were as secure as they could be, at least while within the cloaked safe house and its grounds. But once they stepped out of its protection, they’d be like a flashing beacon. Caleb still hoped that Ava’s cell phone would lure the Protectors toward New York, but so far, they’d been staying close to Allenmore and had trailed them as far as Mabley’s Corner.
It was too much of a risk to head for Canada until the Protectors withdrew.
So, at least for the immediate future, they were stuck at the safe house, and Caleb and Audrey both agreed that if they could help Ava at least begin to get a handle on her abilities, it could only help.
Ava, however, wasn’t that convinced.
“I can’t do it!” she finally shouted in frustration, throwing her hands in the air and turning to stomp back to the house. She glared at Caleb as she passed him, and he stepped back, holding his hands up defensively.
Audrey followed behind by a short distance, smiling softly as she took a seat at the table on the back deck, adjusting the collar of her wool coat. It was cold, but clear and sunny, and she turned her face up to the sky, smiling at the bit of warmth.
“I guess I don’t need to ask how it’s going,” Caleb said with a wry smile as he sat down across from her.
Audrey laughed, but didn’t open her eyes. “It takes time. You know that.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure we have a lot of that. It would make getting to Canada easier if she really had a grip on things. Maybe if she could shift—or even manifest?” he said hopefully.
Audrey shook her head. “We can’t force it, Caleb. She’ll do what she can do.”
Caleb sighed. “I know.” He sipped his coffee for a moment, looking up as Ava appeared in the doorway, spine stiff.
“Sorry about that,” she said quietly to Audrey. “It’s just frustrating.”
Audrey stood and placed her hands on Ava’s shoulders. “I know, dear. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Not everyone has the same abilities, you know. We just have to figure out what yours are.”
“If I really have any in the first place.”
“If you do,” Audrey agreed. “Although from what you and Caleb had told me, it seems like you do. Most likely, they’re latent, and we need to find a way to coax them to the surface. She led Ava over to sit next to her at the table.
“But . . .” Ava began.
“What if you don’t want to?” Audrey suggested.
Ava smiled, rolling her eyes. “You guys and your mind-reading are a little bit annoying.”
Caleb laughed. “It’s not mind-reading,” he said. “At least, not like you think.” He linked his fingers, leaning forward on the table. “We’re able to see more, observe more when it comes to reactions. For example . . .” He reached out to touch her forehead lightly. “Your muscles here tensed the slightest bit, indicating you’re not quite sure if I’m full of bull or not.”
Ava snorted. “That shouldn’t be hard to see.”
“No,” he said with a grin. “But people give away a lot on their faces that the average human can’t see. With our enhanced vision, we do. We also have heightened instincts . . . almost a sixth sense, of sorts.”
“But—” Ava’s brow creased. “I don’t have any of that. Not even enhanced vision. Just your normal, everyday twenty-twenty.”
Audrey sat up a bit. “It’s possible that whatever is blocking your abilities is also blocking your enhanced senses,” she explained. “We’re not gods, Ava. We do have some superior abilities, but a lot of what we can do is because we’re able to access a greater portion of our brains. If you are of the Race, you will be able to, also. It’s just a matter of how and when.”
“We’ve seen it before,” Caleb explained. “With those living as
humans. It’s like a muscle that’s not used enough—it starts to atrophy. It’s possible you were born with heightened senses, but they waned with simple lack of use.”
Ava arched a brow. “I use my eyes every day. My ears, too.”
“Yes, but do you try to see the individual grains of sand on a beach?” Caleb asked. “The cells in a blade of grass? The hairs on the legs of a fly?”
“Gross,” Ava muttered.
“The point is,” Caleb said dryly, “that unless you are aware you can see those things, you don’t even know to look for them.”
“Maybe that’s a place to start,” Audrey said, tapping her lips thoughtfully. “We’ve been so busy trying to access your telekinesis—or whatever it was that you used against Tiernan, and with your hamster all those years ago—that we haven’t thought about trying something simpler.” She stood and crossed the deck, reaching out to pluck a leaf from a large hydrangea bush.
“You know, the hamster thing,” Ava said stubbornly. “It could have been a coincidence. Maybe I imagined it all.”
Caleb and Audrey both smiled indulgently at her before Audrey laid the leaf on the table before her. “Okay,” she said. “Take a few deep breaths and relax.”
Ava eyed the redhead skeptically but did as she asked, closing her eyes, rolling her shoulders lightly inside her parka, and placing her gloved hands flat on the table.
“Now look at the leaf,” Audrey said quietly.
Ava looked down, aware of Caleb’s gaze but trying to ignore it.
Audrey’s voice was soft and rolling, almost hypnotic. “Try to block out everything but the leaf,” she said. “Notice the variations in color . . . see each rib . . . each vein.”
Ava’s focus narrowed, her field of vision limited to the jagged borders of the leaf. She breathed slowly in and out—deep and even—her vision narrowing a bit more with every inhale. For a few minutes nothing happened. The leaf fluttered slightly with her breaths, but other than that, nothing. Then, just as she was about to give up, her vision sharpened. Like someone turning the knob on a microscope, details she hadn’t noticed before started to come into focus. Instead of one color, she saw several—dozens—ranging from the deepest evergreen to the brightest chartreuse. The tiny veins seemed to grow before her eyes, branching out in every direction, again . . . and again.
The MORE Trilogy Page 14
