The Guardians (MORE Trilogy) (26 page)

Caleb was impatient. He couldn’t wait to get to the Colony . . . to get to Ava, and for this whole thing to be over and done with. He’d left a trail as Bartok had ordered and doubled back, where they’d dallied in a seedy motel at the border for far too long, in Caleb’s opinion. Bartok wouldn’t tell him what they were waiting for, only that they’d get the go-ahead when the time was right. Apparently, now was the time.
 

He shifted again and could just make out the familiar rooftops of a group of metal buildings through the trees, maybe a hundred feet ahead. He froze at the sound of voices and shuffling feet stumbling through the underbrush and quickly shifted back to his group.

“They’ve spotted us,” he said in a warning whisper. “They’re coming.”

Bartok nodded. “We knew this would happen. We’re ready. Spread out, everyone!”

As they’d practiced, they formed a wide line and proceeded through the trees, Bartok to Caleb’s right, Christopher, the pyrokinetic, to his left, and everyone else scattered through the trees. Caleb walked with them instead of shifting, keeping the formation.
 

“Diversion.” Bartok said to the man at his right, and in a few minutes, Caleb heard a loud crash somewhere in the distance.

They stopped, listening intently.
 

At the sound of shouts and pounding feet, Bartok grinned. “That should give us time to get past the perimeter,” he said.

“Then what?” Caleb asked, although he knew.

“Then we fight.”

“But not Ava.” He’d lost count of how many times he’d said those words since the whole thing started. “Ava’s not to be hurt.”

“Well, that would kind of defeat the purpose of all this,” Bartok said with a roll of his eyes. “Your girlfriend will be fine. We’re not here to hurt anyone. We’ll grab her and the scrambler and be on our way.”

The brain scrambler.
Bartok’s not-so-flattering nickname for Emma Reiko.
 

Caleb felt a flash of uneasiness at his words. Emma was so young. But no. There was a reason for all of this. A greater purpose. Their future was at stake. The Council must be stopped.

Caleb switched the gun he was holding into his left hand so he could wipe his sweaty palm on his jeans. Taking a firmer grip, he followed Bartok to the edge of the perimeter. They stopped in the shadow of the trees, peering into the cluster of buildings, and Bartok gave the order to advance with a jerk of his head.

It was all he needed. They’d gone over the plan time and time again.
 

Find the girls. Get them out. Do what you must to the others.

With a shout, Caleb joined the others as they launched an attack on the Guardians.

It all happened so fast.
 

Ava followed Gideon as he ran to the control room, where they monitored the cloaks as well as more conventional security cameras and sensors. The room was abuzz with activity, save for a man and woman—siblings or possibly twins, if their matching blond hair, pale skin, and patrician noses were any indication—who sat off to the side, their eyes closed as Gideon demanded information in a quiet, but firm voice. Apparently, they were the organic portion of the cloak or perhaps more sensors.

“How many?” Gideon asked.

“At least a dozen,” the man replied. “They have a blank, so it’s difficult to tell for certain.”

“And Caleb?”

The woman shook her head, a hint of frustration cutting through her calm veneer. “I can’t be sure.”

“This is a waste of time.” Ava grabbed Gideon’s sleeve. “I can feel him coming. He’ll be here any second.”

Gideon faltered for a moment, his eyes flitting to the cameras before nodding abruptly at Ava and following her outside.
 

Tiernan stopped once they’d hit the open air and tilted his head back to scent his surroundings. “That way,” he said, pointing to the southeast.
 

They started in that direction, but a loud crash—or maybe some kind of explosion—had them stopping in their tracks, and as one, Gideon’s men started in the opposite direction.

“No!” Ava shouted. “No, not that way!”

They hesitated, looking to Gideon for guidance.

“It’s a diversion,” she said, willing him to believe her. “I can feel it.”

Gideon’s eyes narrowed as he studied her for a quick moment.
 

She could feel a flicker of . . . something and realized he was somehow reaching out to touch her gift, to see if she
knew
, or was being swayed by wishful thinking.
 

Abruptly, he turned to Tyra. “Take half the men and see what that was,” he told his second-in-command, dismissing her with a nod. “The rest of you, spread out. Take up your assigned positions. The civilians are to be protected at all costs.”
 

He spat orders as they strode to the southeast, and Gideon’s soldiers peeled off to take up defensive positions around the Colony.
 

Emma appeared at Ava’s side, wide-eyed and frantic. “What’s happening?”
 

“Caleb’s coming,” Ava whispered, “and he’s not alone.”

She’d been waiting for this moment for so long, but now found she almost dreaded it. The fact that Caleb had been manipulated, that he wasn’t
him—
not really, not anymore—frightened her, if she were to be honest. “You’re really sure you can fix this?” she asked Emma, a touch of panic seeping into her words. “Put him back the way he was?”

The girl reached for her wrist, her fingers locking around it tightly as she looked intently into Ava’s eyes. “I can. I promise.”

Ava’s anxiety quieted, but in the next moment, the snapping sound of gunfire had her moving on instinct. She swept Emma behind her as they ducked around the corner of a storage shed. “Stay down,” she said.
 

“But I can help.”

“No,” Ava said firmly. “You need to stay safe. We can’t risk losing you. Can you mess with the Rogues from here?”

Emma clung to her wrist, nodding against Ava’s back. “Yeah. I can help.”

Tiernan and Gideon were ahead of them, hiding behind some trees as they waited for the Rogues to appear.

Ava breathed deeply, willing her heart to slow and reaching out to feel Caleb’s approach. The puzzle piece adjusted, twisting as it aimed for the empty spot.

A man burst from the tree line, brandishing a rifle, with a second man carrying two handguns close behind him.
 

Instinctively, Ava swept the guns from their hands and threw them back into the forest.
 

Tiernan glared at her. “Leave some for the rest of us.”

She shrugged, fighting a hysterical giggle. Then all hell broke loose.
 

A fireball burst from the forest, smashing into the trees over Gideon and Tiernan and forcing them to dive for cover. Tiernan rolled to the side, yanking a gun from beneath his coat and firing into the forest. Ava noticed he shot into the air, more as a warning than anything else, and knew he was waiting until they laid eyes on Caleb before he truly started to fight.

Another fireball flashed through the air, and the Rogues attacked, descending on them in a smattering of gunfire. Ava held her breath, overwhelmed for a moment by the cacophony of shouts and blur of bodies moving at Race speed, unable to focus on where to aim her own gift. Someone, however, didn’t have the same problem, for after only a few seconds, a handful of Rogues let out pained shouts, their guns falling to the dirt and sending up wafts of steam where they hit the damp grass.

“What happened?” Emma poked her head around the corner, eyes widening in awe. “Looks like the Guardians have a thermo.” At Ava’s confused glance, she tried to quickly explain. “Thermal manipulator—someone who can heat or cool things by messing with the atoms.”

“Of course,” Ava said, stunned. She shouldn’t have been, really. This was her life now.
 

With most of the weapons out of the mix, she’d thought the Guardians could dominate easily, but apparently the Rogues had a few tricks up their sleeves as well. In seconds, Guardian weapons were flying into the forest, and the hand-to-hand combat began.

A Rogue charged at Tiernan, but he stopped suddenly and lay down on the ground as if he was going to take a nap. Emma giggled when Tiernan gaped at him in surprise for a second before knocking him out.

Ava barely noticed. She scanned the tree line as her fingers clung to the corner of the building, feeling Caleb nearby . . . almost there. Her gift flared, excited at his proximity but confused why he was still so far away.

And then he wasn’t.

One moment, Ava turned her attention to a Rogue, throwing him off Tiernan’s back—without so much as a thank you from the Protector, she begrudgingly noted—and the next she whirled around to see Caleb appearing a dozen feet before her, breathing heavily from repeated shifts, but whole and healthy and looking exactly as he should.

Not as if he was under some strange mind control. Not as if he was a Rogue puppet.

Just Caleb.
 

Perhaps a little thinner than usual, a little more tired, with dark smudges staining the skin below his eyes—no glasses, she noted absently, and no contacts, his eyes the same mismatched blue and green as Tiernan’s. Caleb’s shoulders seemed stooped a bit more than normal, breath rasping in and out as his gaze searched the surrounding bodies. He didn’t spot her at first, tension radiating from his clutched fists as he shouted her name.

She stepped out from behind the building, wrenching her wrist free of Emma’s tight grip. She ignored Tiernan’s shouted warning as the sounds of fighting—fists slamming into flesh, bodies hurled into buildings or each other— dulled to a low roar under the blood rushing in her ears.
 

Caleb whirled around, his blue-green gaze locking on hers as his mouth dropped open on her name. His eyes fluttered closed briefly as relief swept through his tall frame, and he started toward her, heedless of the battle around him.

Ava’s gift propelled her forward, impatient, and like the heroine in some old black-and-white movie, she ran into his arms. He held her close, his warmth seeping into her bones as he breathed in her scent. And just like that, the puzzle piece slipped into place—the gaping hole inside her filled to overflowing, and her gift seemed to sigh in satisfaction.

“Are you all right?” Caleb whispered into her hair.
 

She nodded frantically, clutching at his back.
 

He pulled away. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he said, taking her hand in his and pulling her into the cover of some trees as the fighting continued around them. “Where’s Emma?”

“What?” Ava still felt a bit disoriented, almost drugged, by having him so near. She reached up, sliding her palm over his shoulder and up the back of his neck, her fingers slipping into his hair.

“Emma.” He turned back to her, taking her face in his hands. “Focus, Ava. We need to get Emma and get out of here. I can’t shift again. Something’s blocking me.”

“Adam,” she said slowly, her mind racing to catch up with what was happening. “He’s a dampener.”

Caleb cursed under his breath. “We’ll have to make a run for it, but we need to get Emma first.”

“No.” Her voice was weak . . . wavering, but she shook her head, trying to gain her footing again. “No. Caleb, Emma is safe. The Guardians won’t hurt her.”

“You don’t understand,” he said distractedly, watching the fighting and searching for the girl. “You and Emma are important. You’re part of the plan. We need to get you—”

“Plan?” Ava’s stomach churned, her palms sweating as she remembered what Emma had told her.
 

“They had me change Caleb.”
 

She’d thought she understood, but she’d denied the truth this whole time. “What plan, Caleb?”

He huffed in frustration, fingers clutching his dark hair. “We don’t have time for this!”

“What plan, Caleb?” She reached for his arm but hesitated. Her heart ached at that hesitation.

“The plan, Ava,” he said, turning wide, urgent eyes on hers. “The Council has had too much power for far too long
 . . .
”