Adaptive: A Young Adult Dystopian Romance (The Elite Trials Book 2)

by Becky Moynihan

  Dr. Moore quickly shook our hands, then ushered the entire group inside a small private room. When the door closed, he turned to me. “So glad you could join us this evening, Miss Avery. There have been some rather startling new developments and your instructor, Mr. Holland, thinks you can help us better evaluate the urgency of this situation.”

  It took me a moment to realize he meant Dominic. I glanced at my teacher and he smiled kindly. None of them looked nervous, but that didn’t stop my palms from sweating and my mouth from drying. I swallowed carefully before saying, “I’ll do what I can.”

  “Good, good. Mr. Manly, if you will play back the message we received.” He gestured at Jaxon who was sitting at the room’s lone desk, typing something onto a screen.

  When I caught his eye, I mouthed, “Manly?”

  He made a face, mouthing, “Shut up,” then leaned back as he clicked a button.

  The screen remained blank, but a male’s voice came from the speakers. “Testing. Testing. Crap, I hope I’m doing this right. This is Asher Donovan, sending a message to Bren Bearon. My last correspondence was one week ago, and since that time, the unrest in the village has increased significantly. I’m continuing to plant seeds of doubt, reminding them that the Elite Trials are rigged and that the Supreme Elite hired people to kidnap children so they can contend in the Trials. They believe you and Lune have disappeared at Renold’s hand because you dared to fight together in the Arcus Point Trial. They’re scared, but they’re also listening and want answers.”

  The voice crackled and, for some reason, I gritted my teeth, willing the young man to continue. Was this the Asher? The one Brendan had said was my best friend? When he spoke again, I exhaled in relief. “I really hope Lune is out there with you right now, Bren. When the people saw the scars on her back that night at the village dance, it didn’t take them long to form conclusions. Her bravery was the spark needed to start this revolution. Getting them to believe my words wasn’t hard when they saw with their own eyes what a monster Renold is.”

  My throat tightened and I crossed my arms as if that would help ward off the prickling sense of vulnerability poking at me. I had shown everyone my scarred back? Had I really meant to start an uprising inside Tatum City?

  “But before anyone wonders where I’ve gone,” Asher continued, “I need to tell you why I’m communicating today. Iris went missing. Two days ago, she didn’t stop by the stables to see Lune’s charger like she usually does. I thought she might be sick, but when she didn’t show up yesterday, I suspected something was wrong. I—I snuck into the barracks, Bren. I know you said to stay away from there, but with you and Lune gone, there’s no one to protect her. Anyway, she’s not there. You said she was important so I thought you’d want to know right away. I just, I don’t know what to do. She’s Lune’s sister. After everything Lune has done for my family, I have to find her. I’m sorry for not sticking to the plan, but I need to know where people are disappearing to. I’ll let you know what I find.

  “And, Lune?” I leaned forward as Asher’s voice softened. “If you are out there with Bren, know that I miss you. But, please . . . don’t come back. Signing out.”

  Thick, stifling silence settled over the room. The message had been for Brendan but was directed at me, almost like an apology. And although I had no memories of Asher or Iris, the thought of them disappearing or getting hurt . . . tears burned my eyes. But I wasn’t given an opportunity to dwell on the two people that supposedly meant so much to me.

  “Bren planted several nearly invisible voice communicators throughout Tatum City while he was there,” Dr. Moore said, nudging his glasses higher as he turned my way. “Most are for spying purposes, but he left one with Asher, his inside man. He wasn’t able to tell your friend much on account of the restraining chip we’d injected beneath his skin—it’s not pleasant once triggered, but it assures he can’t be interrogated if caught. Still, he managed to communicate well enough. It helped that Asher is probably an Empath.”

  Restraining chip? Inside man? Why did I suspect the old me didn’t know about this and wouldn’t like it? I looked at Brendan, not quite masking a troubled frown. If his facial expression were an indication—part guilt, part “I’m so dead, aren’t I?”—my assumption was correct.

  He cleared his throat uncomfortably and rubbed his neck. “Asher wants to make a difference, Lune. Always has. The only reason he never signed a Trials contract was because you asked him not to, but he wants a better future just as much as you do. As much as any of us do. Which is why I have to go back. I have to help.”

  Although he’d already told me that he was returning, the reminder was a fresh slap to the face. Especially after our latest confession to each other—that he needed me and I needed him. The thought of never seeing him again was a level of pain I didn’t want to live with. So I squared my shoulders and said, “Then I’m going too.”

  His jaw slackened. Several people in the room sputtered at my declaration, but all sound dimmed as Brendan’s expression hardened. He leaned into my personal space and softly growled, “Over my dead body.”

  My eyes briefly widened at the aggressive tone, then narrowed to slits. “Try and stop me.” I settled onto the balls of my feet as if I’d make a dash for the city right here and now.

  His breath fanned over my cheek as he hissed, “You’ll never get past the airlock.”

  “Oh?” My hands formed fists. “So I’m a prisoner now? Is that why you pushed me away so many times? Because you knew all along it would come to this and I wouldn’t be able to stand it? How many times are you going to betray me, Brendan? How many!”

  At some point, my voice had risen to a shout. I hurled the words at him, using them as weapons. I knew they hurt—I saw the pain in his eyes. But I was hurting, too. How dare he leave me behind! How dare he steal my choices after everything we’d been through, after how far we’d come. My heart pounded, heating my blood.

  As I continued to glare at him, refusing to back down, my mind prodded me. Poke. Poke. Poke. You have an audience. I tuned into the rest of the room. Utter silence. I ran my eyes over the occupants. All gaping at me. Ah crap.

  Dr. Moore cleared his throat and Brendan straightened reluctantly. “You’re not a prisoner, Miss Avery, but you’re too dangerous in the hands of Renold Tatum.”

  My brows pulled together. “What—why?”

  “Based on the data we’ve collected—from Bren and the hidden voice communicators—we believe your adopted father is amassing an army, and the Trials are a test of some sort toward that goal. Although his methods and motives are unclear, we know that he’s stealing children with abilities, then forcing them to contend in the Trials by unorthodox means. The physical abuse you endured over the years? We think that was his way of controlling the outcome of your decisions. He wanted you to contend, he wanted you to be afraid and emotional about anything and everything. He wanted to break your control.”

  How come everyone knew more about myself than I did? Ugh, I needed my memories back! Was he saying that I’d been forced to become crazy? Who did that?

  “As I’m sure you’re figuring out,” Dr. Moore went on, “Renold Tatum is a madman. But it wasn’t just him. Apparently he’d been groomed by his father and grandfather to continue the family work. He confided that much to Bren before sending him on his mission. The man is completely devoted to whatever it is the Trials stand for, and kidnapping children from the surrounding area is nothing compared to what he has planned. Lune,” he said more quietly. “He wants to use you as a weapon.”

  “I—” My eyes darted around the room as I tried to swallow this heavy dose of information. A weapon? “How?”

  “It’s your abilities he wants. He knows they’re strong and is obsessed with unlocking them. When Bren felt compelled to check on you the night you were injected with that paralyzing drug, you telepathically communicated with him, didn’t you?”

  The question was laced with so much certainty, I didn’t bother denying
it. “In my mind, I told Brendan that I needed him and he came. But . . .” I hadn’t told Brendan the other part, mostly because I was afraid of what the penalty would be for eavesdropping on such a private conversation. That felt silly now, especially under the circumstances. I just hoped they didn’t think I was unhinged after this. “But I also overheard him talking to you.”

  There. I said it. I was so screwed.

  Dr. Moore’s gray eyes brightened. Instead of angry, he looked excited. That almost seemed worse. “And what did you hear?”

  “Um, you were talking about the man you caught, the one who tried to stab me. Brendan said he thought the man was being framed and you agreed.”

  Dr. Stacey stepped forward from her position against the wall. She had been so quiet, I’d almost forgotten she was there. Her face was animated as she said to Dr. Moore, “Why didn’t you tell me about this, Carl? You don’t think he did it despite the knife being in his room?”

  “I . . . let’s calm down here for a second. First, that was classified information,” Dr. Moore replied with a pointed look my way. Crap. “Second, nothing’s been confirmed. We’re still working on the case. And third, can you do it again, Miss Avery?”

  “Wait, what?”

  Instead of elaborating, he turned to Dominic. “Mr. Holland, have you received any new impressions on Lune? Can she project from here or does she have distance limitations?”

  Dominic squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose as if attempting to do just that. “Unfortunately, no. Whether she has an actual hand in Renold’s downfall or simply has a premonition of what will happen is still hidden from me. I don’t know the range of her abilities yet.”

  “Dom can predict major event outcomes in uncertain detail,” Brendan explained to me. I nodded but refused to look at him, as childish as that was.

  “It’s why I was out on a mission the day I met Bren,” Jaxon said. His chair squeaked as he leaned back and stuck his feet on the desk. “Dom predicted that I would convince Bren to join us—because no one can resist my witty charm—and the rest is history.”

  Well, that would explain why Brendan seemed to have Dominic on a pedestal. He had saved him and Bells from being recaptured by the Recruiter Clan. But wait . . . “So how long have you known about me and my abilities?” Months? Years? The realization suddenly made me angry. Had they even tried to rescue me during that time?

  Dominic’s expression turned apologetic as he scrubbed a hand through his sandy brown hair. “I’ve known about you for over a year now, but I didn’t know it was you, just a girl with an exceptionally strong ability who was the key to ending Renold’s reign. The details are always obscure.”

  Okay, I could understand that. Sort of. My emotions still threatened to overrule any rationale. “I guess what I really want to know is why I’m being told all of this stuff. Why trust me with such sensitive information if I’m so dangerous?”

  “Because we need you, Miss Avery,” Dr. Moore said with a focused urgency that sent goosebumps crawling up my arms and legs. “We need you to make contact with your sister. If Renold Tatum has discovered her abilities, which we believe are identical to yours, he will force her to become a weapon possibly even more dangerous than you.”

  After enduring that crapload of information, you would think I’d be given time to sort everything out. But apparently, now that I was a part of the inner circle, my duty to Blue Ridge Sector was more important. Dominic spent all evening trying to help me focus my ability so I could attempt a long-distance connection with my sister. But although Brendan said she looked like a ten-year-old me, I felt no link, no bond.

  I needed something to work with. A memory. An emotion.

  It wasn’t like with him, whose presence was so strong in my mind, thinking of his face, his voice, his scent was as simple as breathing. Finding a girl I knew nothing about was proving to be impossible. We had stayed up past midnight, but the only thing I’d managed to acquire was a wicked headache.

  Now, it was ridiculously early in the morning and I was back at it per Dr. Moore’s instructions. Unable to concentrate with so many hovering bodies nearby, I’d asked for someplace quiet to focus. Jaxon had been insightful enough to offer me access to the Conservatory again. As soon as I’d reached the pond and willow tree, he’d made himself scarce, and I curled up against the tree’s trunk, hiding from the world.

  Instead of concentrating on what I should be doing though, my mind strayed to last night’s conversation and all that it implied. So I really was dangerous. It was in my DNA, something I couldn’t change. My past dreams of freedom, of living a quiet and simple life—preferably next to a body of water bigger than this pond—were slipping through my fingers. If I were being completely honest with myself, the dream I had of me and Brendan was slipping away too. And maybe the old me wouldn’t have been torn up about that fact, but the new me ached all over from the pain of it.

  Why did it have to be him who returned to Tatum City? I still didn’t know the full extent of his mission, but if Renold knew of my ability, wouldn’t he know about Brendan’s? He could be used as a weapon too, could be forced to kidnap children with abilities again. I groaned and rubbed at my gritty eyes.

  Someone touched my arm. Expecting Jaxon, I startled when I saw Brendan instead. His face . . . Ugh. Why couldn’t I stand it when he looked sad? Why did I want to press my thumbs to his forehead and smooth away the worry lines? I focused on my bent knees before muttering, “I’m still mad at you.”

  “I know,” he said softly, but sat next to me anyway. His arm and leg brushed mine, instantly warming my skin. I didn’t pull away. After a beat of silence, he sighed. “From the moment I first saw you in Tatum City, I hoped the girl in Dom’s vision wouldn’t be you. I didn’t want you to be a part of all this. It’s messed up and dangerous and, before it’s all over, there will be casualties. Did you know that there are more cities like the one you were trapped in?”

  My head whipped his way. “What? No. Really?”

  “Yeah.” He slowly reached for my hand, hesitant, like he expected me to pull away. But he looked so tired, so resigned to what was ahead of him that I didn’t resist when his fingers threaded through mine. He sighed again, the sound lighter this time. “We think these cities were planned out even before the Silent War. Whoever unleashed that airborne virus must have known it would change the footprint of the world. And now, humans with mutated DNA are being herded into these compounds masquerading as safe cities. Most believe everything they’re told too because they aren’t allowed to think for themselves. Opinions, knowledge—they’ve been erased. Silenced.”

  “Is that . . . is that why I can’t read very well?” The truth of those words tasted sour. What else had I missed out on?

  “Your mom probably taught you some as a child, but books aren’t allowed in the cities. I snuck one in though.” At my raised eyebrow, he chuckled. “Jaxon dared me to. He wasn’t being serious, but I never back down from a dare or challenge. It’s sort of a flaw of mine, I guess, a Sensor weakness. Which reminds me.” He jumped to his feet, tightening his hold on my hand so I was forced to join him.

  Surprised, I stumbled upright. Into his chest. For the life of me, I shouldn’t be feeling a blush creep up my neck, but it was there all the same. I leaned back to see an insufferable smirk on Brendan’s lips. “A little warning next time?”

  “No promises,” he said, his voice smooth as honey. “I quite like you there.” My mouth fell open and more heat burned my cheeks, but he didn’t leave me room to reply. Or whack him. “So I learned something appalling about you while we were in Tatum City.”

  “What?” I squeaked, pushing away from him.

  “Once again, it’s not your fault. Renold is a cruel, sadistic monster.” Even as I tried to disentangle our hands, he pulled me forward, chattering away like a lunatic who must not value his stones very much. When we reached the path leading out of the Conservatory, he said, “If my flaw is experiencing too much, the
n yours is experiencing too little. We’re gonna change that. Jaxon!”

  As if he’d been waiting for this moment, Jaxon popped his head out from behind a potted tree. “You bellowed?”

  “You’re such an eavesdropper.”

  “It’s my job, man! Blame it on the system.”

  “What do you do, Jaxon?” I couldn’t help but ask, though I doubted he’d tell me.

  “I listen in on everyone’s conversations from afar. I’m like a sleek, state-of-the-art drone. Like I said, just doing my job.”

  “He tries to piece information together and better understand what has come of the world,” Brendan further explained.

  “Tries is the word. The world’s gone to crap, I know that much. My theory is that your fake daddy wants to create a brainless, robotic cult that wields pointy objects. Oh, and you’re his little fortune cookie. And don’t forget the carnivorous horses. Anyone who resists will probably get fed to them.” He shivered dramatically. “Imagine riding off into the sunset on one of those.”

  “She has,” Brendan said with a straight face.

  I did?

  “She did? For freaking real? Sick, girl, you’re like a beast-taming, kick-butt warrior princess. All you need is metal armor and a cape.”

  I pinched my lips together, which made the snort that came out my nose even louder. Beast-taming, kick-butt warrior. I liked the sound of that actually. Maybe not the princess part though, especially if I had to get a makeover. “What else have I done?”

  By the time we made it to The Circle, the three of us were in stitches. “I really flipped you over my shoulder?” I asked Brendan, no longer mad at him—for the time being.

  “Mmhmm. But I got you back. Oh, and I made you drink tree bark,” he said with a wink. “Twice.”

  “Gross.” I shoved him, but the effort was pathetic since I couldn’t stop laughing.

  “Talking about drinks . . .” He scanned the mostly quiet space. Only a few early-risers were shuffling about, waiting for the breakfast line to open up. “You two stay here. I’ll be right back.”