As for her family and friends, maybe Caleb could help them, erase their memories of her so they could live their lives in peace.
Perhaps it was the best she could hope for.
She flopped onto her back and picked up her watch from the bedside table, frowning when she realized it was almost two o’clock in the morning. With a heavy sigh, she got out of bed, deciding that maybe some warm milk and another cupcake might be able to relax her enough so she could get some sleep. Stepping silently into the darkened hallway, she made her way to the stairs by the faint glimmer of the moonlight shining through the skylight overhead.
Ava tiptoed down the stairs only to stop in surprise when she found Caleb asleep in a padded chair pulled up to the front window. He breathed steadily, his head tilted at an uncomfortable angle and his brow creased in concentration, even in sleep. Ava smiled at the thought, picking up a pillow and a knitted throw, which had been tossed artfully over the arm of the sofa, and crossing to him silently. She studied him for a moment and couldn’t resist running a finger lightly over his forehead. He shifted slightly, and she jerked her hand away, unwilling to wake him. Instead, she carefully slid the little pillow under his head and draped the throw over his legs, stepping back to perch on the sofa’s armrest.
Curious, Ava stared at him, tilting her head first one way, then the other. He looked the same as he always did. Cute. Skinny. Pale with sharp cheekbones and shaggy hair just a little too long. But she wondered . . .
Ava took a deep breath, calling on that tingling feeling she now recognized as her Half-Breed power. She continued to focus on Caleb, looking deeper—trying to see beneath the Veil he projected, even in sleep. At first, nothing happened. But right when she was about to give up, she saw a flicker, like a camera going in and out of focus. Encouraged, Ava breathed evenly, willing the Veil to part and give her another glimpse of the true Caleb. With a shimmer, it gave way, revealing his broader physique and golden-toned skin. His lips appeared fuller, cheekbones even sharper—if that were possible—his hair thicker and darker, with strands reflecting the shimmering moonlight.
Ava’s breath caught. He was so incredibly beautiful. She could see how he might be mistaken for an angel. It was intimidating, actually. Seeing him that way, so magnificent and otherworldly, made her feel rather small and insignificant.
Caleb stirred, and Ava pulled back her power, his perfection fading back into the Caleb she knew and loved.
Loved?
No. No, that wasn’t it. She felt an attraction to Caleb, definitely. But she knew enough to realize that it was probably only a reaction to the fact that he saved her life, that he’d taken it upon himself to protect her. Sure, he was smart and brave and funny and . . . wonderful.
Ava sighed. That train of thought was not good. She had enough on her plate without developing some kind of pathetic, one-sided crush on her Protector. And she knew it was one-sided. Caleb had made that perfectly clear the night before.
She couldn’t believe she almost went to him, threw herself at him in a flash of recklessness before he’d looked away, obviously embarrassed at her display. She couldn’t blame him. After all, she was pretty much a big bag of trouble. She’d most likely cost him his job, his future, and—if things went wrong—would probably cost him his home and family, as well. He’d help her out of a sense of obligation. As he said, he wanted to do the right thing. But anything more than that was hopeful fancy on her part.
Caleb drew a deep breath, shifting on the chair a little, his head now cushioned by the sofa pillow. His lips parted, a soft snore escaping with every exhale.
And in that moment, Ava knew she was lost.
With a heavy sigh, she turned and went back upstairs, not even bothering with the warm milk.
Surprisingly, Ava dropped off shortly after her head hit the pillow, awaking with a start just after dawn. She could hear Caleb moving about, and after lying quietly for a few minutes, she decided there was no point in staying in bed any longer. She took a quick shower and got dressed, setting off in search of coffee. The hall bathroom door was open, and Caleb stood at the sink, looking into the mirror. His reflection smiled at her as she approached.
“Morning,” Ava said, leaning against the doorjamb. “Did you sleep well?”
“Not bad. How about you? You nervous about today?”
She shrugged. “Yeah. Trying not to think about it too much.”
Caleb opened the medicine cabinet, pulling out a plastic bottle. “Well, we have some time. After breakfast we should talk about contingency plans.”
Ava knew what he was talking about. Plans for what would happen if the Council decided Ava needed to stay in New Elysia. Plans in case they decided she needed to be “detained” or even worse, eliminated.
Plans for escape. Ava fought a shiver at the thought, forcing herself to focus on the here and now instead of on the what if.
Caleb leaned forward over the sink, holding his eye open with one hand and poking it with a finger.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
He blinked a few times. “Putting in my contacts.” He clipped the lens case closed and put the bottle of solution back in the medicine cabinet.
“Contacts?” she repeated. “But, I don’t get it. You said you have perfect vision. Why do you wear contacts?”
He stared at her in the mirror for a moment. “That’s right. I never told you.”
“Told me what?”
“They’re not prescription contacts. It’s just for color.” He reached up, removing the contacts quickly and placing them in the palm of his hand, he turned around, his gaze lifting to meet hers.
Ava gasped.
Instead of the blue gaze she knew so well, she found herself looking into one blue eye . . .
. . . and one green.
Exactly like Tiernan.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out,” Caleb said, flushing slightly as he turned around to put the contacts back in again. “I would have told you, but we’ve had so much going on, it kind of slipped my mind.”
“I . . . I don’t understand,” Ava stammered. “Are you and Tiernan related or something?”
Caleb laughed. “No. No, it’s nothing like that. We all have it.”
“We?”
“The Race. The heterochromia is the only thing not covered by the Veil, although nobody’s exactly sure why.”
“Heterochromia.” Ava swallowed thickly, trying to make sense of what Caleb was saying.
It couldn’t be.
“Heterochromia. We call it HC for short. It means having two different-colored eyes.”
“I know what it means,” she said quietly.
“We all have it, but in order to fit in with humans, we use colored contacts to hide it. Most wear them all the time—even when there aren’t humans around. Maybe it’s a vanity thing.” He shrugged. “I guess that’s one case where the human ideal of beauty and normalcy has influenced our culture.
“Tiernan refuses to wear them, though. He says he doesn’t want to fit in.” Caleb laughed.
“But . . .” Ava’s heart raced as she scrambled to find a logical answer for the question prodding her. “I’ve never seen you without them.”
“Long-term contacts,” he said. “We can leave them in for a month at a time.”
“Oh, that would be nice,” she murmured, half to herself. “But . . . blue and green. The eyes are always blue and green, right?” It was a long shot, but she had to ask.
Caleb turned to face her. “No, the colors vary. Why?” His face filled with concern as Ava blanched. “What’s wrong?”
“And Half-Breeds . . . they have HC, too?”
“No,” Caleb said, stepping toward her. “I’ve never heard of a Half-Breed having it. Only Pure-Bloods. Ava, what’s going on? What’s the matter?”
Ava opened her mouth to answer, but no words would come out. Instead, she reached up to her own eyes with trembling hands, and removed her contacts to reveal their true color. Or rat
her, colors.
One brown. One hazel-gold.
Caleb’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“I’ve worn contacts since I was a little girl,” she said, filling the awkward silence. “The kids used to make fun of me, so my mom got them so I wouldn’t feel so weird. I knew it was rare. I thought I was a freak—”
“You’re not a freak.” His voice was tight, but there was no venom in his words. He just stared into her eyes, breathing softly.
After a moment, she asked timidly, “Then what am I?”
Caleb exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his face before replying.
“I’m not exactly sure.”
16
Caleb poked his eggs, stealing glances every now and then across the table where Ava was doing the same. “Not hungry?” he asked.
“Not really.”
Poke. His eggs had turned a bit rubbery, fighting back against the fork.
Poke.
“It could mean nothing, you know,” he said finally. “It happens to humans, too . . . sometimes.”
“I know.”
But Caleb didn’t really believe what he was saying. He was just unsure if he could wrap his head around the possible implications. Sure, it was possible that Ava’s heterochromia was a coincidence, but in his opinion, it was too much of a coincidence.
Which left him with only one conclusion: Ava wasn’t a Half-Breed at all, but a full-blooded member of the Race.
But how?
How could she live among humans all this time with no idea who—or what—she was? How had the Council been unaware of her existence? What happened to her abilities, abilities that should have come as naturally to her as breathing?
What had happened to cut her off from her people? Where were her biological parents?
The questions swirled around in his mind and, as he snuck another peek at Ava, he could imagine them doing the same in hers. Her fork clattered as she dropped it onto her plate, shoving it away.
“Okay, out with it,” she said. “You keep looking at me like you know something you’re not saying.”
“I don’t know anything,” he muttered.
“But you suspect something.”
He shrugged.
Poke.
“Caleb, I go before the Council in less than an hour. I need to know what’s going on. We’re talking about my life, here.”
He pushed his uneaten breakfast away in frustration, sitting back and running a hand through his hair. “You think I don’t know that? I’m just trying to make sense of all of this.”
“Well, then talk to me,” she urged him. “Maybe we can figure it out together.”
Caleb hesitated, unsure if what he was going to say would reassure or worry her. But Ava simply picked up the plates and moved them to the kitchen counter before sitting back down and looking at him expectantly. “I don’t know anything for sure,” he said again. “I’ve never seen or heard of a Half-Breed with HC, although it’s not impossible, I suppose. Did the doctor say anything during your examination?”
She shook her head. “He noticed the contacts, of course, when he looked into my eyes, but didn’t make me remove them. He said it wasn’t necessary.”
“He must have assumed they were prescription,” Caleb murmured. “I suppose he had no reason to think otherwise.”
“But wouldn’t that be weird? A Half-Breed with bad eyesight?”
“Not really. The blending of DNA can have unpredictable results. That’s part of the reason the Council is so worried about it,” he said. “Usually the Race blood is stronger, but sometimes the human DNA prevails and Half-Breeds can emerge with human frailties as a result.”
Ava nodded. “So, it could be a genetic fluke.”
“Could be.”
“Or . . . ?”
“Or . . .” Caleb sighed. “It could be that you’re pure-blooded Race.”
She blinked at him for a moment, absorbing that. “You mean . . . like you?”
“Yes. Like me. Like all of us.” He watched her carefully, but her face remained impassive.
“But . . . but how?”
“I’ve been asking myself that same question. It doesn’t make any sense.” Caleb stood and began pacing back and forth to the kitchen, lost in thought.
“Well,” Ava began, “isn’t it a good thing? I mean, if it’s true that means there wasn’t any violation, at least as far as my biological parents are concerned.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But something like this has never happened before. The Council is not going to be happy that you were hidden from them. Not to mention they’ll want to know who did it and why.
“You won’t be allowed to leave New Elysia. You’ll most likely be taken into custody, anyway,” he said, stopping to lean on the table, his eyes dark and intent. “There’s no way they’ll let you go until they get the answers they’re looking for.”
Ava swallowed thickly, pasting on a weak smile. “Well, at least they won’t kill me, right?”
Caleb’s first instinct was to reassure her, but she read his hesitation as a denial.
“You think they might?” she asked. “Even if I’m one of you?”
He sighed. “I don’t know, Ava,” he said. “I just don’t know.” She turned from him, blinking away tears, and Caleb instantly regretted his honesty. “Ava—”
“Well, there’s no use worrying until we know for sure, right?” She squared her shoulders, ready to face her fate, and Caleb felt a strange warmth at the thought.
“Right,” he said.
“And you have a plan. In case things go wrong, right?” she asked.
In that moment, Caleb knew he’d do whatever it took to keep her safe, even if it meant fighting their way out of New Elysia. Even if it meant cutting all ties with the city, his people, even his mother. There was no question about it. As for how, he was still working on that. He knew Rafe would help. And there were others on the outside waiting for word from him.
Yes, he had a plan, he just wasn’t sure if it would work.
But at the expectant trust in Ava’s eyes he could only say one thing.
“Right.”
The weather mimicked Ava’s mood as they walked toward the Central Hall; dark clouds hid the sun, and a brisk wind gusted at unexpected moments. She and Caleb shared an umbrella, icy drizzle melting into shallow puddles on the heated sidewalk along the way. Ava huddled inside her coat, the chill in her bones not due solely to the miserable weather.
“It’ll be okay,” Caleb murmured quietly, alert eyes scanning the buildings surrounding them. Ever since he spotted whatever he’d spotted outside the Arena, he’d seemed almost paranoid. He thought he hid it well, but Ava could feel the tension in his body, the rigid awareness as his gaze flicked around in a complex pattern, missing nothing.
“I know,” she said, although she knew nothing of the sort.
She trusted Caleb, but other than that, she knew her fate was up in the air. She’d seen some amazing things since she arrived in New Elysia—technology years ahead of what she was used to—and knew that escape would be a fifty-fifty proposition at best. No matter how confident Caleb seemed, she knew both their lives were in danger if they decided to run. Which is why if the Council gave her the opportunity, she would stay. If they decided to let her live, she’d give up her life out in the world, because it was the only way to make sure Caleb would be safe.
She glanced up at him surreptitiously. He wasn’t going to be happy.
“What is it?” he asked.
Ava frowned. “I hate it when you do that.”
“Do what?”
“Read my mind.”
He laughed. “I told you. I can’t read your mind.”
“Well, read my bodily responses, then. Whatever you want to call it, it’s annoying.”
Caleb flashed her a smirk, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Well, perhaps you need to practice masking your responses so you’re not so easy to read.”
She rolled her eyes. �
�Maybe you need to stop looking so closely.”
“Maybe that’s easier said than done.”
Ava snorted. “Because of your oh-so-superior innate observational skills?”
“No,” he replied quietly, not meeting her eyes. “Not because of that.”
A rush of inexplicable heat warmed Ava’s skin as she absorbed his words. His eyes flickered to hers briefly before he flushed and looked away again, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.
Could he mean . . . ?
Ava licked her lips, wondering if she dared to ask. Butterflies twisted in her stomach, her palms damp as her heart pounded heavily. “Why, then?” she asked quietly.
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he stopped suddenly, turning toward her, his gaze focused on his shoes. “I just . . .” he stammered, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I . . . uh—” Suddenly, his head snapped to the side, his entire body stiffening.
“What is it?” Ava asked.
He didn’t even look at her. “Wait here,” he ordered. And then he was gone.
Caleb shifted, and Ava saw him appear about a block ahead, peeking around the corner of a small house. He glanced at her briefly before disappearing behind the house.
Ava gripped the umbrella handle, absently noticing the sleet picking up. Icy drops slashed overhead—around her—a flash of lightning crackling through the sky as thunder rumbled overhead. But Ava ignored it all, her eyes focused on the spot she’d last seen Caleb, willing him to reappear.
Where was he? What had he seen? Was he okay?
Fear had her stumbling forward, one step after another—slowly at first, then faster, until her feet pounded on the wet pavement, splashing through the intermittent, slushy puddles.
“Caleb?” she called, as another bolt of lightning lit the sky. She dropped the umbrella, running in earnest, a feeling of panic speeding her steps. She raced down the block, still unable to take her eyes off the corner where he’d disappeared. She slowed only as she finally reached that point, pressing her back against the house as she peeked between the buildings.
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