The MORE Trilogy

by T. M. Franklin

  So beautiful. A masterpiece, really.

  “Yes, Father.”

  “You’re to go, and you’re to go alone. No cell phone. No trackers.”

  Lucy’s voice echoed in Ava’s ears as she made her way through the forest, running as fast as she could. The trees blurred in her vision, her focus on the path before her—the gaps in the trees and firm ground beneath her feet. Caleb had shifted her as far as Red Lake and wanted to take her even closer, but Ava had refused, not wanting to risk putting her parents in any more danger.

  It had been a heated but short-lived debate. She’d made him promise not to follow her, and although she could feel his fear, he’d agreed to wait for word if she promised to be careful.

  Be careful.

  Ava wasn’t exactly certain how she was supposed to do that.

  Emma has my parents. Emma and Elias Borré.

  Ava fought down another swell of panic and tried to focus on the task at hand—one foot in front of the other—setting course for the clearing near the Guardian Colony where she’d last seen Emma.

  Where I almost killed Caleb.

  Adrenaline coursed through her, mingling with her gift and flaring with an urge to find, to protect. To hurt those who dared to hurt her own. She gritted her teeth and forced herself to move even faster.

  Then it hit her, like a punch to the stomach—the familiar twinge of Emma’s power—and her step faltered as guilt and memories followed in its wake. Ava slowed, feeling Emma drawing nearer with every step, until she stood just a few feet from the edge of the clearing. The air stilled around her, the forest growing silent as if it too sensed the tension radiating from every inch of Ava’s skin. With a trembling hand, she pushed aside a low-hanging branch and stepped into the clearing, heart pounding when she saw Emma standing in almost the same place where she’d last found her.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  “Waiting for you.”

  “Waiting for . . . why?”

  “To help you, of course.”

  “Hello, Ava.” Present clashed with past as she spoke for the first time.

  The air vibrated around them, and Ava fought to keep control of her anger, her power. “Where are my parents?”

  “They’re not your parents, Ava. You know that.”

  A rock zinged across the clearing, and Ava took a deep breath. She needed to stay in control. She needed to get to her parents and at the moment, Emma was her sole connection. “Where are they?” she asked. “If you’ve hurt them—”

  “Nobody wants to hurt them. They’ve done us a great service, after all.” Emma smiled softly. “Caring for you all those years until it was time for you to come home. We all owe them a considerable debt.”

  Ava didn’t rise to the bait. “Emma. Where are they? What do you want?”

  Emma shook her head slightly. “You know, Ava. It’s so simple.”

  “You want me.”

  “Father wants you. He wants you to come home and take your place at his side.” She took a step forward, and it took all Ava’s focus not to turn and run, or cause a tree to fall on Emma’s head. One or the other was equally possible at that moment.

  “And Borré thought kidnapping my parents and blackmailing me was the best way to gain my support?”

  Emma sighed and looked through the trees for a moment before she turned back to Ava, brow furrowed with concern. “Father means well, even if it’s not always apparent. He sees a great future for our people and that sometimes . . . affects his judgment.”

  “Was it his idea to make me into a killer?” Ava spat. “Or was that all you?”

  Emma actually had the grace to look chagrined. “That was my mistake. I . . . shouldn’t have done that to you, Ava. I apologize.”

  Ava let out a humorless laugh. “You apologize? You twisted my mind, manipulated me, made me create and destroy an innocent animal—tried to get me to murder someone I love, and all you’ve got is ‘I’m sorry’?”

  “I didn’t want to do it,” Emma replied, tears glistening in her eyes. “Father . . . he needed you. He can be—” Her voice cracked, and she swallowed, fingers pressed to her lips. “He’s a dangerous man, Ava,” she said. “I love him, but you don’t want to cross him.”

  Ava’s skin chilled. “What will he do to my parents?”

  “Nothing,” she replied quickly. “If you do what he says, he’ll let them go. We’ll blur their memories, and they’ll go on with their lives none the wiser. Safe and sound.”

  “And what does he want in exchange for that?” Ava asked. “None of this ‘take your rightful place’ crap either. I want specifics. What will it take for him to let them go?”

  Emma closed the space between them, and Ava felt their connection—like the one to Sophie, Isaiah . . . even, to a lesser degree, Evan. The bond of the Twelve.

  “He needs a show of faith,” Emma replied. “You do something for him and he’ll do something for you.”

  “Like releasing my parents?”

  “Eventually, yes. Once you’ve proven yourself trustworthy. Once you’ve bound yourself to him and cut ties to the Council and the Guardians.”

  Ava’s heart pounded in her chest. “And how, exactly, do I do that?”

  “One step at a time,” Emma said. “First, I take you to meet our father.”

  It had gone better than Emma had expected. Not that Ava had embraced her with open arms, welcoming back her long-lost sister, but she hadn’t picked her up and thrown her across the forest.

  It’s a start.

  She led Ava out of the clearing on the opposite side of where she’d entered, and her sister seemed surprised to find a gravel road a short distance away, Emma’s SUV parked and waiting for them.

  “Where are we going?” Ava asked.

  “It’s not far.” She rounded to the driver’s side and got in, Ava following suit after a brief hesitation.

  “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she muttered.

  “It’ll be all right,” Emma replied. “I’ll be there with you the whole time.”

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

  Emma swallowed her disappointment at Ava’s brusque reply. “I know you don’t trust me. Not after what I did. But I’d never let him hurt you,” she said. She expected Ava to argue the point, but she just turned away to rest her head against the window.

  They drove in silence for a while, Emma navigating the narrow, twisting road with halfhearted attention. She was too focused on Ava, the return of her sister—the bond of the Twelve stronger than any mated couple.

  She needs to accept her fate, her destiny . . . embrace the place she’s going to have in this new world once—

  “What happens when I meet him?” Ava asked, still gazing out at the passing scenery.

  “He only wants to talk to you.” Emma chewed on her lip as she glanced at her. “Ease your pain a bit?”

  Ava started at that and turned to face her. “How?”

  Emma turned a corner and they emerged onto a paved road. “I don’t know everything.”

  “But you know something.”

  Emma nodded and tried to sort out her words before speaking. “Each of us, when the block is lifted, is compelled to return home, to return to Father. The longer we wait—”

  “The more painful it is.”

  “Yes.”

  “And if we don’t go to him?”

  Emma looked at her but didn’t answer when the tension in Ava’s jaw made it clear it wasn’t necessary. “We need each other,” Emma explained. “Our bond, as the Twelve, is extraordinarily strong. You’ve felt it, right?”

  Ava shrugged a shoulder and looked back out the window.

  “Our bond to Father is even stronger. When we are near him, we are finally complete. He relieves our pain, and his presence, his influence, solidifies our gifts.”

  “Kumbaya.” Ava wanted to scream.

  “It’s what we are, Ava,” Emma said quietly. “It’s what we were created to b
e.”

  Ava glared at her, eyes flashing. “He’s not God.”

  “No, I know that,” Emma hastened to add. “But he is our father, and he wants to help us.”

  Ava turned away to look out the window again, and Emma let it go. She ignored the impulse to reach out with her gift to soothe her sister and tried to do it with words instead.

  “I know it’s scary,” she said. “I know it’s not something you want. But it will be okay, Ava. I promise, it’ll be okay.”

  Ava didn’t respond, but she didn’t argue either, so Emma claimed that as a victory.

  They made their way out of the wilderness, farmland and scattered houses eventually condensing into neighborhoods.

  Ava tensed as Emma turned and pulled into the driveway of a brick rambler settled on a narrow strip of grass between two larger homes in the center of a cul-de-sac. “This is a Rogue stronghold?” she asked with a surprised snort.

  Emma laughed. “Hardly. It’s just a neutral place for you to meet our father.”

  “Are my parents here?”

  Emma shook her head and shot her an apologetic look. “You need to speak to him first.”

  Weedy flowerbeds bordered the walkway to a faded red front door. Emma didn’t knock but glanced at Ava before she turned the knob.

  Something drew her in, like invisible fingertips clawing at her gift and pulling her forward. She stumbled over the threshold as she tried to resist.

  “It’s unsettling if you’re not accustomed to it,” Emma whispered as she gripped Ava’s elbow to steady her. “You’ll get used to it. Try not to fight it, and you’ll feel much better. I promise.”

  Ava didn’t think she had much choice, actually. The power flowed over her, settling her gift, but not in the same way as Caleb’s. Where his power seemed to fit with hers, interlinking like pieces of a puzzle, Borré’s—if that’s what it truly was—stretched over her body, enveloping her like a second skin. It didn’t seem to be trying to control her, though, not like Emma’s. It was more like a layer of warmth that seemed to seep into her, blending with her blood and merging with muscle and bone.

  Like it’s part of me.

  Emma didn’t take the lead but watched her, smiling softly as Ava took a few tentative steps toward the back of the house.

  He was drawing her closer, calling her without words, her gift reaching toward the relief that he promised. The ache in her muscles eased.

  The living room to her left had no furniture but was marred by a mottled brown stain in the middle of the carpet. The house was older, not really run-down, but musty with disuse as if it had been empty for a while.

  She shivered as she entered a narrow hallway lit by a bare bulb in a fixture overhead, the glass cover missing.

  Fingertips brushed her palm, and Ava’s gift surged, taking her breath for a moment. She looked down to see Emma gripping her hand. Ava pulled away, ignoring the hurt look on her sister’s face.

  “I was only trying to help,” Emma whispered.

  “I don’t need any help.”

  She emerged into a large room, split into a kitchen on the left, and a family room with a vaulted ceiling on the right. Like the rest of what she’d seen so far, this room was devoid of furniture, but a man stood against an unlit fireplace on the far side of the room.

  Ava wasn’t sure what she’d expected—someone larger, perhaps, more like Tiernan, or more evil-looking, although she couldn’t imagine what that meant, but the man who stood waiting for her with a half smile on his face didn’t look overly evil, and he wasn’t particularly intimidating.

  He looked . . . normal. About six feet tall with wavy brown hair, dressed in a pair of jeans and boots, a black T-shirt and leather jacket.

  “Hello, Ava.”

  She started when she realized he was closer than she’d thought. She kept moving toward him, however, until she could make out the black and hazel-gold of his eyes.

  Elias Borré.

  He reached out with one hand, and she froze.

  He smiled and tilted his head, his hand still extended. “I don’t want to hurt you. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  “Where—” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, a little dazed, as she swallowed. “Where are my parents?”

  Borré frowned. “They’re fine, I assure you. I wish them no harm.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  Borré dropped his hand, a flash of something—irritation, Ava suspected—lighting his eyes as they narrowed slightly.

  Ava winced as her headache sharpened, piercing, before it settled back to a low throb.

  “I am many things, Ava, but I am no liar,” he said in a low voice. “If I tell you I mean them no harm, no harm will come to them.” He turned, ran his fingers across the fireplace mantle, and examined them with a frown, smearing his thumb and forefinger together. “Of course, that is as long as no one does anything to change my mind.” He wiped his hands off on his jeans and turned back to her.

  Ava’s fear and anger swelled, her gift growing to respond.

  The windows rattled and Borré’s smile widened. “Impressive,” he said.

  A crack formed in the sliding glass door, splintering outward in a web as Ava fought to control her power.

  Borré’s hand shot out to grip her wrist and the door exploded outward, a shower of broken glass tinkling on the patio.

  Then, as quickly as it rose, her gift withdrew, collapsing within her so quickly her knees buckled.

  Borré’s grip kept her on her feet, his fingers pressing harshly into her skin. He drew her up and laid his other palm on her head.

  “What are you—” Ava tried to pull away, but Borré was stronger than he looked. She couldn’t move, frozen under his touch and the intensity of his gaze.

  A flood of warmth surged up from her feet, as if he pulled it through her, soothing heat skirting along muscle and bone, up her spine, and out her scalp. Her body tingled, muscles contracting and relaxing, her head lolling back on her shoulders as a wave of comfort swept through her. She blinked and realized she was lying on the floor and looking up at Borré and Emma. Her whole body felt heavy, loose-limbed, and it took a moment before she could even sit up.

  “What did you do to me?”

  “How do you feel?” Borré asked.

  Emma was watching her with wide, excited eyes, fingers clenching as if she itched to reach out and touch her.

  Ava turned to Borré. “What happened?”

  “How do you feel?” he asked again, emphasizing each word a little more.

  Ava closed her eyes and tried to take inventory of her still tingling body. “I feel—” Her gift swelled within her, but didn’t act out. She was in perfect control. “My headache . . . it’s gone,” she said quietly as she opened her eyes. “I feel . . . I feel better than I have in months, actually.” She hated to admit it, but it was true. No pain. No nausea. If anything she felt stronger, more powerful. Clear and focused.

  Borré reached out to help her as she made to stand, but when she stiffened, he backed off.

  She walked to the broken window, the cool air refreshing on her cheeks. Everything seemed brighter, sharper, the details of every sight and every sound more defined, even without accessing her Race gifts.

  “It’s how you were meant to be,” Borré said quietly, and she realized he was standing right behind her. “It’s the way you were created to be.”

  And just like that, the awe over her sudden change fell away. “I want to see my parents.”

  “In time,” he said, and she could hear the disappointment in his voice. “First, I need something from you.”

  She turned to face him and squared her shoulders. “What?”

  “A simple task, really,” he replied, returning to his spot by the fireplace.

  Emma watched them both but stayed in the shadows.

  “What task?”

  “I assume you are familiar with the Protection Bureau?” When Ava didn’t reply, he shrugged slightly. “T
he Bureau monitors the perimeter of New Elysia, both via cloaks and more conventional methods. I simply require access to those monitors.”

  “You plan to invade New Elysia?”

  “You make it sound like an act of war,” Borré said, shaking his head. “I mean to liberate our people. The Council is no longer acting in their best interests.”

  “And what happens to them?”

  “What do you care? From what I understand you’re no friend of the Council.” Borré crossed the room and looked out the window. “I have no desire to hurt any of them, but I will do what I must to help our people.”

  “Yeah, you’re a real patriot.”

  He flashed her an irritated look. “You want your parents released unharmed. You bring me the codes to access Bureau surveillance and you get your wish.”

  “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?” she asked.

  “I’m sure you’ll find a way,” he replied. “From what I understand you have quite a few connections in high places.”

  She thought of Caleb . . . Madeleine. “But they’re not just going to give me the codes.”

  He slapped a hand against the wall. “Well, you’re simply going to have to figure it out, aren’t you?” He rolled his shoulders and lowered his voice. “Be convincing. Use the gifts that I gave you. Find a way. Oh, and Ava?” He appeared calm once again and approached her, looking into her eyes. “I will know if you betray me. Make no mistake, if you try to warn Madeleine or the Council or that Protector of yours, I will know. And your parents will suffer for your indiscretion.”

  “If you hurt them—”

  “It’s not up to me, Ava,” he said, his voice deadly quiet. “This is all up to you. You can save your parents, save yourself, by joining me and taking your rightful place. Or you can choose to turn your back on your birthright and lose everything.” He ran a hand through his hair and smiled. “But take some time to think it over, all right? Say, twenty-four hours?” He motioned to Emma, who came to stand at his side. “Your sister will take you to a safe place to . . . contemplate your situation, and she can answer any questions you may have.”

  He started for the door, and without thinking, Ava reached out with her gift to stop him in place.