To Ava’s surprise, the houses were grouped much like a typical neighborhood, but instead of paved streets and sidewalks, the homes lined gravel drives wide enough for a single vehicle. As in New Elysia, she saw no cars; however, there were no garages either, now that she thought of it, only green lawns and covered porches before simple, single-story homes. They appeared to all be roughly the same, but alternating in floor plan—some with the porch to the left of the entry, some to the right. Like the outer buildings, the houses were arranged in a loose ring, and as they rounded a corner, a park appeared in the center of the compound. Ava could see a group of children laughing and climbing on some playground equipment.
“How many people live here?” she asked without thinking, wincing when she realized that Gideon would most likely be wary of sharing too much information with her.
To her surprise, he smiled as he answered, “It varies. We have about fifty families who live here permanently. The rest of the population is transient.”
“You mean the Half-Breeds.”
Gideon arched a brow. “We prefer not to use that term here, but yes.”
Ava nodded. “They don’t stay here?”
“Some do. Some choose to help us with the work we do here—help others like themselves. Others want our help to gain control over their abilities so they can go back to live among humans undetected.”
“But how do you hide them from the Council?”
Gideon laughed a little and shook his head. “We may live out in the middle of the woods, but we are still Race,” he said. “We have technology. We have our own gifts. And we’re not the only Guardian Colony around.”
Ava wanted to point out that he’d really not answered the question, but decided not to push it. They neared the park and Gideon led her to a bench in the shade of a large pine tree. She stuffed her hands into her coat pockets, but luckily, it wasn’t too cold to enjoy the coming dusk. The laughter of children carried to her over the breeze, and for a moment Ava almost forgot that her life had become a gigantic mess over the past few days . . . weeks . . . months.
“So,” Gideon said after a heavy inhale. “You and Caleb.”
“Yeah.”
“I heard about what happened before the Council,” he said, amusement glinting in his eyes. “I would have liked to have seen Madeleine’s face.”
She half smiled. “I don’t think I’m her favorite person.”
Her fingers trailed unconsciously to her necklace, and Gideon’s eyes followed the movement, his gaze lingering on the shimmering stones. “No, I imagine not.” He chuckled to himself and looked out toward the trees on the opposite side of the park. “She doesn’t like to be challenged.” His voice sounded like a mixture of amusement and melancholy—almost wistfulness—and Ava couldn’t resist the opportunity to find out more.
“You were married,” she said.
“We were.” He didn’t look at her. “We are.”
“Still?” Ava couldn’t hide her surprise. “I’m sorry. I just assumed. With you here and her . . .” She waved a hand.
“Leader of everything I stand against?” Gideon said wryly, glancing at her sideways. “Yes, that does tend to put a damper on the relationship.”
He bent over to pick a blade of grass at his feet and slumped back against the bench, tearing it idly. “Did Caleb ever tell you about how we bond? With our mate?”
Ava flushed. She was so not prepared to have this conversation with her boyfriend’s father. “He told me a bit.”
Gideon nodded, continuing to split the blade of grass into smaller and smaller strips. “It lasts for life, you know. It doesn’t matter if you’re together or not.”
Ava thought of the void she felt when Caleb wasn’t close by—the feeling that something was missing . . . something wrong. And he’d told her the closer they got, the stronger that bond would become.
“So you still feel . . .” She wasn’t exactly sure what she was asking, but all of a sudden, she just had to know.
He winced, holding out his palm to let the shredded pieces of grass fall to the ground. “The connection doesn’t lessen over time. Every moment is like she was just ripped from me. An emptiness that cannot be filled. And she feels the same.”
Ava’s heart sank. She could see the pain etched in the older man’s features, the loss he couldn’t hide when talking about Madeleine, and she could finally understand why Caleb had been so leery to deepen the bond between them. He’d seen what could happen when the bond wasn’t enough.
“I’m sorry,” she said, the words insufficient but all she could summon up. “Isn’t there some way?”
He shrugged. “If there is, we haven’t been able to find it. And it’s been decades. Since Caleb was a little boy.” He stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. “We’re both committed to what we believe in. She thinks the Council needs to be the guiding force for the Race, obviously. I think the old ways need to be . . . amended. When I first left New Elysia to establish the Guardians, I’d visit now and then, on neutral territory, but it was really too difficult for both of us. Caleb, too. We agreed it would be best for him if I simply stayed away.
“I tried. But I’ve watched over him—checked in on him when I could. I was there when he finished school . . . when he was sworn in as a Protector. Watching from the sidelines. I knew Madeleine could tell—that she could feel me nearby—but she let me have those moments. I’ll always be grateful for that.
“And after you—” The sadness in his eyes lifted as his lips lifted in a tiny smirk. “After your encounter with the Council, Caleb came to me. Well, he came to the Guardians, I should say. He didn’t really speak to me. But I had hoped in time we’d perhaps be able to reclaim some semblance of a relationship. And now . . .”
“Now he’s been brainwashed by Rogues.”
Gideon laughed humorlessly. “Which begs the question—why is he coming here? And why isn’t he here already?”
Ava stood, and the pair started to walk slowly around the perimeter of the park as the sun dipped below the tree line. “That’s a good question,” she said. “We’ve been following him, and he can shift, so there’s no way we could have passed him. You have any thoughts?”
“Only one thing makes sense,” Gideon replied, picking up a rock and tossing it aimlessly. “He was waiting for you to get here first.”
“But why?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.” Gideon turned to lead her out of the park and back toward the outer buildings. “I don’t have any answers, so I think the only thing we can do is be ready when he shows up.”
“Then Emma can fix him.”
Gideon seemed a bit uncomfortable with that, but he nodded anyway. “Then maybe Caleb can give us some answers,” he said.
The waiting was awful. Now that they had nowhere to go—nothing to do but wait—Ava felt like she was going crazy.
The night had been quiet, and fortunately, she’d been able to get a good night’s sleep—the first in a while. Still, she was up with the dawn, only to find Tiernan already outside, scenting the air and examining the ground around the edge of the Colony.
Apparently, he didn’t like waiting any more than Ava did.
“Anything?” she asked, her breath puffing into clouds in the frosty mountain air as she held out a cup of coffee.
“You tell me,” he said shortly.
“What are you talking about?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. Her new cell phone.
“What are you doing with that?” She dropped the coffee and reached for it, but he held the phone away from her. “You had no right—”
“Why didn’t you tell me you’d spoken to Caleb? I thought you were all about sharing information and not keeping secrets. Or does that only extend to other people?”
Ava’s face heated. “I was going to tell you—” It was a lie, and Tiernan knew it.
He barked out a humorless laugh. “Right.” He threw the phone on the ground and
smashed it with the heel of his boot. “I thought you trusted me,” he said, face carved in a scowl.
Ava saw beyond the anger, though, to the hurt underneath. “I did. I do.” When he stalked away, she trailed after him. “I should have told you. It’s just that Caleb told me—”
“What?” Tiernan growled, turning on her. “What did your Caleb tell you? Not to tell me? To get away from me?” When she didn’t meet his eyes, he laughed. “Don’t you get it? He’s a Rogue, Ava. You can try and excuse his actions all you want, but he’s not here, is he? He left you to run away.”
“Shut up.”
“Ignoring the truth won’t make it disappear.”
“You think I don’t know that?” she shouted. “You think I don’t know something’s wrong with him? I know it, Tiernan. I’ve known it for a while. I’ve felt it, and I ignored it, and maybe if I hadn’t . . .” She turned away, wiping tears from her eyes. “I know I should have told you. I guess I hoped . . . I don’t know what I hoped.
“But I am sorry,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I’m really sorry.”
Tiernan didn’t say anything for a long moment, and then he exhaled heavily, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not your fault.”
“But maybe if I’d—”
“Ava, it’s not your fault,” he said more firmly. “This is all so new to you. There’s no way you could have known what Emma did to Caleb. You couldn’t have seen this coming.”
“He said . . .” She cleared her throat, turning back to him. “He said I couldn’t trust the Council. He said it’s been ‘keeping us down’ for too long.” She used air quotes, earning a smirk from Tiernan. “He denied that Emma did anything to him. Said he’s fine. And he . . . he said I should stay away from the Colony.”
Tiernan seemed surprised. “Why do you think he’d say that?”
“I don’t know. Someone was coming so he had to hang up.”
“Strange.” Tiernan walked toward the tree line, thinking to himself. “Although anyone who knows you knows that telling you not to do something pretty much guarantees you’re going to do it.”
“Hey!”
“You can’t deny it’s true,” he said with a halfhearted glower. “The fact you’re standing here is proof.”
Ava sighed. “I really am sorry.”
Tiernan shrugged, and his discomfort with the emotion showed in every inch of his tense frame. “I know. It’s okay.”
Ava cleared her throat. “So . . . have you found anything?”
He shook his head, walking along the edge of the trees as she followed. “Nothing. Any word from Gideon?”
“I checked in with him before coming out. I think he might have been up all night. The cloaks haven’t been disturbed, and there’s no sign of anyone. I know I don’t feel anything.” She reached out again with her gift, just to make sure, but the Caleb-shaped hole remained, untouched and jagged.
“I don’t like it,” Tiernan muttered, crouching as he examined a blade of grass. “None of this makes any kind of sense.”
Ava said nothing, and trailed after the Protector as he continued to scan the perimeter. Her mind wandered to her discussion with Gideon and all that he had told her, and before she could think better of it, she asked, “You ever been in love, Tiernan?”
His frown deepened as he crushed a handful of dirt in his palm. He sniffed it before letting it fall to the ground, standing, and brushing his hand off on his jeans. “That’s a weird question.”
She shrugged. “It’s just . . . Gideon told me last night about Madeleine.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “You want to know about the bond.” He glanced at her briefly before turning back around to stare out through the trees. “Worried about your boy?”
“No,” she said, lifting her chin as she crossed her arms almost out of reflex. Ava couldn’t deny that she sounded like a two-year-old about to stomp her foot, and tried to cover her embarrassing curiosity best she could. “I was only wondering if it’s like that for everyone.”
“Well, most bonded pairs stay together. It’s rare for them to separate, for obvious reasons.”
“So, in all these years, no girl’s gotten under your skin?” she asked, keeping her tone light and teasing. “Or are you waiting until you’re older to settle down—like maybe when you’re in your three hundreds?”
“Ha, ha,” he grumbled. “The bond is no laughing matter. It can destroy as much as it strengthens.”
Ava was taken aback at his tone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“No, it’s . . . it’s fine.” Tiernan took a deep breath and appeared to be considering his words carefully. “You’ve never asked about my scar.”
Ava’s step faltered. She was a little stunned by the change in topic. “I didn’t think it was any of my business.”
“Weren’t you curious?” he asked. “Why I would have a scar when we heal so quickly?”
Unconsciously, Ava lifted her hand to her own scar on the back of her head. “Caleb told me . . . if a healer isn’t skilled, and the wound is bad enough . . .” She felt sick and wished Tiernan had never brought the subject up. In fact, she wasn’t sure how they’d even gotten on the subject.
“Yeah,” Tiernan said, coming to a stop and gazing out into the forest. “Or if you won’t let a healer near you.”
Ava gasped. She’d almost gotten to the point where she didn’t even notice Tiernan’s scar, but now the jagged line running down his face shone white and angry against his flushed skin. “Why would you do that?” she asked.
“There was a woman,” he said, jaw tight as he looked away. “We had a bond. She betrayed me.”
“How is that even possible?” Ava couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“The bond doesn’t change you,” he said tightly. “It doesn’t affect what you want, your personality. Greed, corruption . . . a thirst for power. If they are ingrained deeply enough, not even the bond can overcome them.”
Ava swallowed hard as a heavy feeling settling in her stomach. “She became a Rogue.”
“She thought I could help her—use my connections with the Council somehow. I’m not even sure. When I refused . . .” He touched the scar, tracing his fingertips down the jagged skin and seemed lost in the memories. “She wanted to leave, but she couldn’t. Because of the bond.” His words were monotone—dull, lifeless. “She wasn’t strong enough.”
“She tried to kill you.”
He blinked, turning away. “She tried. She failed.”
“And the bond?”
“Broken.”
Gideon’s words came back to her. “It lasts for life, you know. It doesn’t matter if you’re together or not.”
She could guess how the bond had been broken, and she didn’t want to make him say it. “I’m sorry,” she said instead.
“It doesn’t matter anymore. It was a long time ago.” He shook off his melancholy and started back toward the Colony buildings, Ava hurrying to catch up to him. “I only told you so you know what you’re dealing with. The bond is a two-sided coin. It’s not something to rush into.” Tiernan bent to pick up a rock and threw it into the forest, where it lodged in the trunk of a tree.
She raised a brow. “Yeah. I’m beginning to see that.” When Tiernan ignored her comment, she opted to change the subject, eyeing the rock still embedded in the tree. She thought about picking up her own rock but knew it would just bounce off. “It’s still so frustrating to me, you know. The whole strength and speed thing.”
Tiernan, for some unknown reason, seemed to be able to follow her train of thought. “Maybe you need to focus more.”
“That’s what Caleb says,” she replied. “But I’ve tried, and it doesn’t seem to help at all. You don’t have to focus, do you?”
Tiernan grunted noncommittally, but when they reached the center building, he led Ava around the side.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“Found it earlier this morning,” he replied when they
came to a high fence with a padlock hanging open on the gate. “Think it’s just what the doctor ordered.” He shot her a half grin as he swung open the gate, and extending a hand along with a slight bow, he gestured for her to precede him through.
She rolled her eyes a bit, but curiosity won out, and she walked into a large fenced area about the size of a football field, with a full track running around the perimeter of the grassy expanse. One side of the field looked to be laid out as some kind of obstacle course, with zigzagging barbed wire, a swinging rope over a big muddy puddle, several wooden platforms, and a high wall at the far end.
He led her to the other end of the field, littered with colored cones, some large black balls, and metal boxes in various sizes. Tiernan approached one about four feet square and slapped a palm on top, the sound echoing around them. “Let’s start with something simple,” he said.
“This isn’t going to work,” Ava all but whined. “Caleb’s been trying for months—”
“I’m not Caleb,” he snapped. “Now, no more excuses. Come over here and put your shoulder to it . . . unless you’d like to start with running,” He indicated the track with a flick of his eyes, and Ava winced. She wasn’t much of a runner, and keeping up with Tiernan was sure to be an exercise in frustration.
“Okay.” She relented, but not altogether graciously, and stalked over to the box, fighting down her negative attitude with every step. The fact that Tiernan actually wanted to help her was incredible, to say the least, and she wasn’t going to let the opportunity go to waste.
Or he could have been as antsy as she was waiting for something—anything—to happen, and was looking for a distraction. Not that she could blame him.
With a doubtful glance at the box, she took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “What do you want me to do?”
“Try again.” Tiernan ignored a twinge of compassion at Ava’s sweat-dampened hair and red face.
Her breath puffed out with exertion, teeth clenched as she shoved her shoulder against the weight block.
The Guardians (MORE Trilogy) Page 16
