The Guardians (MORE Trilogy) (25 page)

“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.
 

Again.

They’d been at it for about an hour, and the girl still showed no sign of accessing her Race strength. If she had any to begin with, and Tiernan was seriously beginning to doubt she did.
 

Ava grunted, and he could tell she was pushing against the block with all her might. He knew it wouldn’t be easy. The block was thick-walled steel, and even though he’d moved to a smaller one when it became obvious Ava couldn’t move the larger one, it still weighed close to five hundred pounds.
 

He’d tried everything—leading her through meditation techniques, hard-core drill-sergeant tactics, even encouraging her, as much as it went against every fiber of his being. He was about out of ideas.

“Maybe you’re just
 . . .
” Tiernan winced slightly. “Not very strong.”

She scowled at him, turned around, and pushed her back against the block, feet digging into the ground. “You think?” She turned back around, shoving it—or
failing
to shove it—with her hands again. “I don’t know why I even worry about it. It’s not like I need it. I can just use my gift.”

“You can’t always rely on that,” Tiernan said, reminding her of the reality of the situation. “There are dampeners out there—and people like Emma, who can mess with your mind, despite your gift. You need every weapon at your disposal if it comes to that.”

Ava grunted, obviously annoyed, but she kept pushing, so Tiernan took that as a win. It didn’t make any sense, though. Ava was Race. She should be able to do it. Perhaps she only needed a good incentive.

“Come on, Ava,” he said, forcing a note of cheer into his voice. “If you move it an inch, I’ll give you a
 . . .
” He searched his mind, at a loss at what to offer. “Cookie?”

Ava slumped against the metal block, and she seemed unable to hold back a laugh. “A cookie? Seriously?”

Tiernan wasn’t sure why he said that, but he wasn’t backing down now. “I like cookies,” he said, trying not to sound defensive.
 

Cookies are good. Cookies are tasty. Nothing wrong with a good cookie.

“No offense, big guy,” she said, straightening and patting his chest—a little condescendingly, he might add. “But cookies aren’t gonna do it.”

“Yeah?” Tiernan considered her carefully as another idea came to mind. He rounded the block to the side opposite Ava. “Maybe you just need the right motivation.” Without warning, he shoved the block toward her a few inches, and Ava stumbled back in surprise.

“Hey!” She regained her footing and glared at him. “You almost smashed my foot.”

“Maybe you should push back, then.” He nudged it forward a bit more, trying not to grin.

Ava narrowed her eyes and put her shoulder to the block, her jaw tight with determination.
 

“Come on!” Tiernan taunted her. “Put your back into it!” He pushed lightly at the block—enough to keep Ava on her toes. “Don’t think so much. Let your muscles do the work. They know what to do.”

“I really don’t think they do,” Ava said, punctuating each word with a pained grunt. “I think my muscles are pretty clueless, to be honest.”

“Don’t be such a wimp.”

“Shut up!”

“Shut up?” Tiernan shoved the block a little more. “I think
you
better shut up. Put all that energy somewhere useful.” Maybe if he could get her to forget about everything for a moment, her innate nature—the Race blood rushing through her veins—would take over.

Ava had her eyes shut, her brow furrowed, and her muscles strained to move the block. Tension radiated from her body, and he knew she was giving it all she had.
 

Maybe just a little bit more . . . 

“Good thing Caleb will be back soon. Looks like you
need
someone to protect you.”

Before he knew what was happening, Tiernan found himself on his back with the weighted block on his chest. He gasped, confused for a moment that he could breathe at all. In fact, the block wasn’t exactly lying on his chest. Instead, it hovered about an inch above him, and when he pushed at it, it didn’t move.
 

Ava’s smug face appeared over him. “Now who needs protection?” she asked with a smirk.

“That’s not fair,” he protested.

Laughter drifted to Tiernan in his rather humiliating prison, and he realized they were no longer alone. He shoved at the block again and glared at Ava. “Get it off me.”

She hesitated, and he thought for a moment she was going to make him say
please
. With a challenging arch of her brow, she turned her attention back to the block, and it flipped to Tiernan’s side, where it landed in the grass with a quiet thunk.
 

He rolled to his feet and found Audrey and Gideon approaching them, amused grins on their faces.

“Looks like you’ve met your match,” Gideon said to Tiernan.

“She cheated.”

“Cheated, schmeated,” Ava retorted. “I used what I have at my disposal.”

“It’s astounding,” Audrey said. “You’ve come so far in such a short amount of time.”

“Your telekinetic power is impressive.” Gideon nodded at Ava, and her irritation seemed to lighten a bit. “I don’t know if I’ve seen many with that kind of control.”

“Have you seen a lot?” Ava asked.

“In my line of work, I’ve seen it all.” He turned to lead them back to the main building, Ava on one side, Audrey on the other.
 

Tiernan followed behind, listening carefully. Perhaps nursing his ego a bit.

“I’m able to detect gifts in others,” Gideon told her.
 

“Like a sensor?” Ava glanced back at Tiernan.
 

Gideon shook his head, but it was Audrey who answered.

“A sensor can detect Race,” she said, clarifying the difference. “In some cases, track them using their electrical imprint. Gideon’s gift is different.” She tipped her head to him, inviting him to explain.

“I’m able to sense a particular gift within an individual. Your telekinesis, for example. And your Race intuition, your instincts, they’re particularly strong.” Gideon stopped, gnawing on his lip as he studied Ava, his eyes narrowed. “There’s something more, though. It’s strange. I can usually see it so clearly, but it’s like there’s something . . . 
hidden,
something
 . . .
” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Whatever it is, it’ll have to wait. I have news.”

Tiernan stiffened. “News about what? Has Foster been spotted?”

“Not yet,” Gideon replied. “But I may have an idea what the Rogues are up to.”

Chapter 11

Ava’s heart pounded as they gathered around the conference room table, and Gideon excused everyone else with a nod of his head. Once they were alone, he leaned his elbows on the table and scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked tired. He looked
worried
.

“What is it?” Ava asked.

He exhaled heavily. “We’ve been hearing rumors for months—nothing concrete, nothing specific—that something is going on with the Rogues.”

“Something?” Tiernan sat rigid at Ava’s side, his hands curling into fists.

“The word
conspiracy
is being thrown around.” Gideon turned to Ava. “I know you’re new to all of this, but Rogues don’t usually act in groups. They’re solitary creatures, living for their own pleasure and usually eliminating anyone who gets in their way.”

“Caleb told me,” Ava replied, her blood chilling as she remembered her time in the Rogue lair. “Even the Council couldn’t figure out why so many of them would join together to take me.”

“Not to mention track you since you were a child,” Tiernan said, pointing out exactly how long she had been on everyone’s radar.

“Really?” Gideon’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t aware of that.”

Ava sighed. She didn’t like thinking about Arthur’s betrayal for a lot of reasons. Still, she couldn’t deny that it could help them figure out what was going on, so she told Gideon all about it—how he’d been her neighbor, her best friend, how he’d apparently been watching her all of her life and was the one who lured her to her own kidnapping.
 

“And he said you were one of them,” Gideon mused, rubbing at his lips, deep in thought.

Ava felt tired all of a sudden. “He kept rambling about having a higher purpose . . . about me having some kind of destiny to help the cause.”

“The cause?”
 

“That’s what he said. It was all a lot of crazy talk, to be honest,” Ava said with a sigh. “He even called himself a revolutionary.”

“Well, that fits with what I’ve been hearing, actually.” Gideon stood and began to pace behind his chair. “Our contacts have been talking about Rogues joining together, although nobody could really figure out why. But what you’re telling me, combined with what I just heard
 . . .
” He sat back down, his palms flat on the table.
 

“I have a source close to the Council,” he said, his gaze darting between them. “And from what I’ve heard, it’s possible that the Rogues have plans to make a move on the Council. My contact says they fear a coup.” He focused his penetrating stare on Ava. “They’re particularly interested in getting you back to New Elysia.”

“No way.” Ava laughed. “They know that’s not going to happen.”

“You may not have a choice.”

Ava turned on Tiernan, hiding her uneasiness with an icy stare. “Did you know about this?”

“It’s no secret the Council wants you,” he said, refusing to meet her eyes.

“But do they plan to try and force me?”
 

His jaw twitched, and he looked down at his hands.

“Tiernan?” Ava felt the familiar twist of betrayal, still so tender after Arthur. “Tell me.”

“I don’t know the Council’s plans!” He shoved away from the table, and the chair screeched as it scraped the floor. “I get my orders. I do my job. At least I did until I crossed paths with you! Now, apparently, I disregard orders and do what I want and hide things from the Council and—”

“Sir!” A man appeared at the doorway and approached Gideon with long strides. “We have a breach of the outer cloak.”

Gideon shot to his feet. “Is it him?”

But Ava already knew. She felt the twinge along the edges of the Caleb-shaped hole inside her—her gift reaching out to his, even at a distance. Not quite like slipping a missing puzzle piece into place, but more fumbling with it a bit, trying to line it up just right.
 

“It’s him,” she said in a frightened whisper.

Even Caleb had to admit the cloaks were impressive, and he’d seen a lot of cloaks. The animals, so realistic, the bridge—he’d almost fallen for that one the first time he’d visited the Colony, and if he hadn’t been told it was a trick, he probably would have tried to find an alternate route.

They’re close now. So close.
 

He could feel himself draw nearer to Ava with every step, the void within him filling slowly, like glittering sand dribbling grain by grain into his soul. It had been difficult—more difficult than he’d imagined, even given his particular knowledge of the bond—to be away from her. He’d thought that keeping his distance, at least initially, would have kept it from forming quite so tightly, wrapping its greedy fingers around his heart, but he’d been wrong. And he could only imagine what it would be like once they were truly joined. In his most honest moments, it was a thought that both exhilarated and terrified him in equal measure.

“Foster! Get your head in the game!” Bartok snapped.
 

He was a few feet off to Caleb’s right, slipping silently through the trees. The guy did everything silently—invisibly—which was what Caleb assumed made him as good at his job as he was. Well, that and a general lack of anything resembling a conscience.

Caleb nodded curtly and shifted farther up the trail, scouting ahead for more cloaks or any other hazards. “All clear,” he whispered, knowing they could hear him, before shifting forward again in the leapfrog pattern they’d perfected on their journey north.