The MORE Trilogy

by T. M. Franklin

  “Stock me up, doc,” Ava said with forced lightheartedness. “And maybe you can work some of your mojo? Give me a little booster before we leave?”

  Talia nodded and led her into the exam room. “Hop up on the table.” She washed her hands and lowered the lights in the room.

  They’d done this a few times before, but Ava usually didn’t like the grogginess that came after one of Talia’s treatments. She wasn’t sure exactly what the healer did—some kind of visualization that boosted her immune system or something. All Ava knew was it gave her some respite from the headaches and gave her energy for a couple of days afterward. It was something she figured would come in handy since Talia wouldn’t be accompanying them to New Elysia.

  She lay back on the table and closed her eyes, giving herself over to the healer’s ministrations. Ava’s tension eased as Talia smoothed cool palms over her head and down her shoulders, over and over again in a gentle rhythm. A wave of calm and relaxation seeped into Ava’s skin from the healer’s fingers, flowing through her body and washing her pain away.

  A few minutes later, Talia shook her gently to draw her attention.

  Ava sat up, blinking against the rush of dizziness that she’d come to expect.

  Talia handed her a bottle of medication and a glass of water. “Better wait a few minutes before you try to stand up,” she advised.

  Ava nodded and sipped at the water, eyeing her host. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Hmm?” Talia made a few notes in Ava’s chart and filed it in a large cabinet.

  “Have you ever done a tattoo?”

  Talia’s eyebrows shot up. “A few. Why do you ask?”

  Ava shrugged. “I know it’s an acquired skill, you know, because of the healing.”

  “Yes, that’s true,” she said slowly. “Actually, it’s not that different from what I just did.”

  “So . . . you think you could give me one?” She hadn’t been sure she would even ask until that moment, but suddenly, Ava knew she wanted it.

  “I could.” Talia leaned against the counter and crossed her arms over her chest. “Do you know what you want?”

  Ava reached for the cord that always hung around her neck and pulled out the pendant hanging beneath her clothes. “This,” she said, tapping the Celtic knot between the blue and green stones symbolizing humanity and the First Race.

  “That’s the Guardian symbol.”

  “Yeah, I know,” Ava said, running her finger over the hammered metal. “Caleb told me the knot is for unity. And I . . . with everything that’s going on, I guess I want a more permanent reminder. That this is what we’re fighting for, you know? Not human or Race or Half-Breed, but everyone coexisting and living in peace.”

  Talia nodded, smiling. “I can see that.” She turned to rummage in a cabinet, drawing out what looked like a tattoo gun and some other supplies. “Do you know where you want it?”

  Ava had considered placing it over her heart, or on her shoulder, but she recalled Emma’s wrist—the symbol for the Twelve peeking out from under her sleeve.

  Huh. Almost . . . poetic.

  Two sisters with conflicting loyalties, fighting on different sides—one for power, the other for right.

  Ava had to believe she was fighting for right.

  “Here,” she said, running a finger along the inside of her left wrist. “Do it here.”

  Andreas Petrov often lost track of how many decades he’d served on the Race Council.

  Ten? Twelve?

  Sometimes it seemed as if the years flew by. Conversely, sitting in Madeleine Foster’s living room with the other Council members reminded him of how hours . . . minutes . . . seconds could drag interminably.

  “Are you certain they can be trusted?” Naomi asked, twisting her fingers nervously in her lap.

  It wasn’t the first time the question had been asked, and he knew the answer would be the same.

  “Of course not,” Kaeden replied. “But someone has to take a leap of faith here. We’ve suspected the Rogues were planning something, but from what Ross says, they could act sooner rather than later. We need to be prepared. We need every tool at our disposal.”

  “Even if they’re traitors to the Race?” Madeleine eyes flashed, and Andreas fought back a smile. Madeleine put up a stoic façade in public, but behind closed doors she often wore her heart—and her fury—on her sleeve.

  “It’s a little late for second thoughts,” he said, examining his perfectly buffed fingernails. “You’ve already said they could come.”

  “What else was I supposed to do?” she asked, glaring at the group. “You all but forced my hand.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Madeleine.” Rafe sat slouched in a low armchair, watching the conversation with a slight smirk. “You know as well as we do there was no other option. The Guardians have information we need. More important, they have some of the illustrious Twelve.”

  “The Twelve,” Madeleine spat. “Borré’s arrogance knows no bounds. And now he plans to turn these children of his against us? Against his own people?”

  “Borré has never been one of us. But this is all beside the point, isn’t it?” Andreas raised his brows and met every gaze.

  Silence hung heavy in the room for several moments.

  Andreas waited, patient as always.

  “I want them watched,” Madeleine said, her voice quiet but firm. “Twenty-four-hour guard on Ava Michaels and her apparent siblings.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Andreas replied. “What about Gideon?”

  At mention of the man’s name, Madeleine’s jaw tensed. “Tiernan Ross will be charged with keeping him in line. As for my son . . .”

  Everyone turned toward her, waiting for the conclusion to that sentence. It was no secret that Caleb Foster had been aiding the Guardians, but it was a fact that had not been addressed publicly until now.

  Madeleine sighed. “Well, if we do decide to move forward with this, I suppose his . . . indiscretions are the least of our problems. I’ll deal with Caleb myself.”

  “What about a public statement?” Naomi asked. “If people see Gideon Campbell walk into town, they’re going to start asking questions.”

  “It’s our job to make sure they don’t see him,” Madeleine replied. “At least not until we’re ready to put forward a united front on this and gain the people’s support. Although how that will be accomplished is beyond me at this point.” She rubbed her temples, eyes fluttering closed.

  “They’ll unite in the face of a threat,” Kaeden pointed out.

  Madeleine laughed humorlessly. “Yes, but how do we explain that threat without inducing a mass panic?”

  “It’s simple,” Andreas said. “As you say, we need to keep things quiet for now, at least until we know more about these Twelve and about the Rogue plot.”

  The response was immediate and heated, voices escalating in frustration.

  “But our people have the right to know they’re in danger!”

  “We don’t know the extent of that danger.”

  “—find out we lied—”

  “Nobody’s lying—”

  “Lies by omission are still—”

  “What’s the alternative? Panic in the streets?”

  “—not giving them enough credit.”

  “She’s right. They should be able to defend them—”

  “All right, enough!” Madeleine drew to her full height and fixed each of them with a quelling look. “Andreas is right. We can’t go public with this until we know exactly what we’re dealing with.” She turned to Rafe. “You meet them at the gate when they arrive. Make sure they are shown to private quarters and that they’re kept out of the public eye.”

  Rafe nodded.

  “Andreas will handle security,” Madeleine said, pacing across the room slowly. “We’ll keep them isolated to the medical wing for now, at least until the testing is complete. Naomi, perhaps you can try to befriend our guests. You’re the most diplomatic of us all.”
>
  Naomi pursed her lips. “You mean the least threatening.”

  Madeleine only acknowledged the comment with a slight tilt of her head. “I’ll deal with Gideon and Caleb and try to get more information. That means exploring our outside resources falls to you, Kaeden. Turn over every rock. Look under every bush. I want to know what Borré is up to and when he plans to make his move.”

  “What about the rest of the Guardians?” Kaeden asked.

  Madeleine sighed heavily. “If we do agree to an alliance, we will need to provide protection for them as well. But let’s cross that bridge when we come to it, shall we?”

  “I can speak to the Housing Authority,” Naomi offered. “I’ll make some discreet inquiries to see what’s available.”

  “Good. All right. Any questions?” Madeleine observed the room silently, eyes flicking from one to the next.

  No one would say anything else. Yes, they governed together, but they also followed Madeleine’s lead in most things.

  “Fine. We’ll meet again tomorrow.” She dismissed them all with a weary smile and turned to Andreas, tipping her head toward the kitchen. “Andreas, a word?”

  As the others left the house, he followed her and leaned against the kitchen counter.

  She retrieved a couple of water bottles from the refrigerator then seemed to rethink it and replaced them, pulling out a half bottle of white wine instead. She held it up, arching a brow at Andreas in question.

  He nodded. Wine was almost always a better option, in his opinion.

  She poured them each a glass and took a long sip, swirling it in her mouth before she swallowed and asked, “What do you really think of all this?”

  He pursed his lips and frowned. “I think . . . I think Gideon is probably right. If this threat is real, we’ll need to work together to neutralize it.”

  Madeleine swirled her wine, lost in thought. “It will mean changing the way we’ve done things for decades—centuries. Allowing the Guardians into New Elysia will basically be admitting we were wrong.”

  “Or simply that we can adapt when the need arises.”

  Madeleine’s lips quirked. “Ah, yes, the proper spin. You were always good at that, Andreas.”

  He lifted his glass in a silent toast, and she mimicked the movement.

  Madeleine drained her glass, refilled it, and moved toward the window over the sink.

  Andreas watched her carefully. “There’s something else.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Perceptive, as usual.” She crossed her arms, turning back to the window. “Kaeden may need your . . . assistance.”

  Interesting.

  “Any particular reason for your concern?”

  Madeleine shrugged. “You know as well as I do that Borré has been moving too quickly and too efficiently to be working blindly. Our sources say there could be a sympathizer right here in the city. Perhaps a Protector or someone on the Council itself.”

  “And you suspect Kaeden Cross?” Andreas said with a laugh. “He hardly seems the type.”

  “Who does?” she asked sharply. “We cannot take any unnecessary risks. I’m merely suggesting that you make sure any information Kaeden uncovers makes it back to all of us. Completely.”

  Andreas swirled the last of his wine in the glass before swallowing it. He approached her and set the glass down on the counter next to her. “I’ll take care of it,” he said quietly.

  Chapter 7

  Elias Borré frowned at the paperwork on his makeshift desk, plans upon plans racing through his mind as he adapted, consulted, and adapted again. He hadn’t gotten where he was by not being able to think ahead and guess his opponent’s move three or four miles down the road. He leaned back in his chair and tapped his lips, smiling slightly.

  It won’t be long now.

  A knock at the door drew his attention, and Sloan walked in, a grim expression on his face.

  “What is it?” Elias asked.

  “They got the boy.”

  Elias pursed his lips, nodding. “Not entirely unexpected.” He couldn’t resist chastising the man to keep him in place, however. “Losing your touch, Sloan?”

  Bartok squared his shoulders. “No, sir. I’ll—”

  “You’ll do what I say and no more.” Borré got to his feet and gathered the documents on the table. “I’ve received word that the Guardians are on the move.”

  Sloan frowned. “But we’ve known that for some time. We’ve had people monitoring the Colony.”

  “I don’t mean them,” Elias snapped. “The refugees are not important. I mean Gideon. I mean my children.”

  “Oh. Yes. Of course, sir.”

  “They’ve been given sanctuary, however temporary, in New Elysia. I expect they’ll leave the Colony tomorrow, the day after at the latest.”

  “They don’t dare wait any longer.”

  “No. No, Gideon will want to move quickly.” Elias slid the papers into a folder and tapped it against the table to get the edges straight.

  Neat, orderly . . . everything in its place.

  “Ava is to go with the contingent to meet with the Council, but the other two are not expected in New Elysia. I suspect Gideon wants to keep them somewhere safe.”

  “There are half a dozen Guardian safe houses within a day of New Elysia.”

  “Pick the one nearest the city,” Elias said, circling the table to perch on the edge. “He’ll want to have Sophie and Isaiah close. I suspect Tyra will be the one to accompany them. He won’t leave it to one of his lesser soldiers.”

  Sloan opened his mouth, and Elias could tell the man wanted to offer a plan of attack. Instead, however, he simply stood even taller and asked, “What are my orders?”

  Elias smiled.

  Ahh, he’s learning.

  “Ava will have to wait, for now. As for the other two, when the opportunity presents itself, I expect you to retrieve what’s mine.”

  Sloan nodded, head bowed under Borré’s glittering gaze. “Yes, sir.”

  He left the room and Elias took a moment to breathe, relishing the idea that it was all coming together as he’d planned. Sure, there’d been challenges along the way—and he knew there would continue to be—but in the end, he’d adapt. He’d survive.

  He’d win.

  Early the next morning, Sophie and Isaiah headed south, following Tyra’s booted footsteps down the muddy trail. The trees dripped a quiet pitter-patter that splashed up rich and earthy scents around them as they dodged puddles and climbed over tangled roots.

  Sophie held her brother’s hand tightly and adjusted the bag on her shoulder as she eyed the little group around her nervously. She’d been glad when Gideon told her he hadn’t expected the two of them to go to New Elysia —a city of super men, thank you very much—and instead would go with some of the other refugees to a safe house near Kalispell.

  Safe house. She liked the sound of that.

  So it was the two of them, along with a half dozen of what Sophie had dubbed “ordinary people.” Although, the schoolteacher trudging along slightly ahead of her was able to make things grow, as the trail of little pink flowers popping up in her wake attested. So ordinary was relative, but it separated those people from the six Guardian soldiers who stomped in formation around the group carrying weapons and an aura of danger. Tyra walked point, and someone named Adam brought up the rear. Sophie hadn’t discovered what his gift was, but like the others, the guy kept his gaze constantly on the move, always alert for any sign of danger.

  Isaiah rubbed absently at his arm.

  The spot where they’d drawn several vials of blood the night before had already healed, but Sophie knew he was thinking about what they’d learned. No one had really been surprised about the DNA testing. It was one of the reasons that Sophie had eventually relented and let them conduct it. Isaiah was her brother. She’d never had any doubt, and apparently, like Ava and herself—she was still having trouble wrapping her head around all that—he was also one of the Twelve.

&nbs
p; “You okay?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  He shook his head. “Just thinking. About everything, you know? It’s . . . weird.”

  Sophie laughed. “Which part?”

  “All of it. Having another sister—sisters—not to mention brothers, and all these people with powers?” He waved a hand to encompass the entire group moving through the forest. “It’s like a comic book or something.”

  “Yeah. I know what you mean.”

  “And you.” Isaiah looked up at her, his gold and brown gaze the same but opposite of Sophie’s. And Ava’s. “What you can do. It’s pretty cool, actually.” He frowned. “You think I can do the same thing?” He turned to face forward, brow creased in concentration, and Sophie suspected he was trying.

  “I don’t know,” she said, squeezing his hand. “They say everyone’s different. You might be able to do something even cooler.”

  Isaiah grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Cooler. Heh.”

  Sophie rolled her own eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  “Maybe when they figure out how to lift this block.” He tapped at his temple and Sophie’s stomach sank.

  After what Ava had told her was happening to her—a side effect of lifting the block—she wasn’t sure she wanted it for herself, let alone her little brother. She couldn’t stand to see him in pain.

  “I’ll be fine,” he said.

  Sophie started. “What?”

  He blinked, his pupils dilating but quickly shrinking back to normal. “You said you didn’t want me to be in pain.”

  “I didn’t actually say that.”

  “But I heard you—”

  “I . . .” She swallowed. “I didn’t say it out loud, b-but I thought it.” She looked up at her brother.

  When did he get so much taller than me?

  “Try it again,” he said.

  “Try what? Thinking something? I never stopped.”

  “Think something specific,” he said, yanking on her arm. “Think something at me.”

  “How in the world do you think something at someone?”

  “Sophie!” He pulled her to a stop, only to start walking again when one of the Guardian soldiers looked at him with a scowl. He lowered his voice. “Just try, okay?”