The Guardians (MORE Trilogy) (33 page)

Ava watched in horror as the bear twisted on the ground, whimpering and frothing at the mouth. With sick realization, she absorbed Emma’s words. She’d tried to manifest something—a
living
thing—with no real knowledge of the intricate biology that made it up.
 

She was a spoiled child playing God.

Ava fell to her knees, retching onto the dirt, blood and bile seeping into the ground.

“You have to help it,” Emma said, her voice steely as she dropped to Ava’s side.
 

“But
 . . .
” Ava swiped a hand over her mouth, fighting back another rush of nausea. “How? I don’t know how.”

Emma’s mismatched gaze locked on hers again. “It’s suffering, Ava. You have to put it out of its misery.”

Ava’s eyes blurred with tears as she turned back to the bear. It whined pitifully, and she choked on her own sobs. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
 

“You have to fix this, Ava,” Emma said, her voice low and soothing, but with a biting edge. “You know what to do.”

“What?” Her voice was rough, ruined. “Make it go away?” She turned toward the suffering bear.

“No,” Emma said firmly. “You must face the consequences of your actions.”

“How?” But as Emma stroked a hand over her head, Ava knew. She knew how she had to pay for her mistake. It was so clear.

Ava nodded, tears running down her cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed. She pictured the bear—its image imprinted so clearly on her mind—looked closer . . . closer . . . until she could see inside. Pictured the beating heart, so inadequate and imperfect, and squeezed it tightly with her mind—her gift a fist closing about it. Teeth gritted, she bore down, tightening the grip until the low whimpers became staggered breathing, harsh in her ears, then nothing. Silence, broken only by her own soft keens. She fell forward into the dirt and curled up in a ball, sobbing uncontrollably, unable to look at the helpless animal she’d created and destroyed. She felt Emma rubbing her back, her voice soothing as she tried to comfort her.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Ava gasped. “How can you say that? You saw what happened.”

“Ava, sit up.”
 

She hesitated only a moment before complying, wiping the still-streaming tears from her cheeks. For a moment, Emma looked far older than her seventeen years, her eyes dark with remembered pain and something else Ava couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“It’s not your fault,” Emma said again, shaking Ava’s shoulders slightly to emphasize the point. “You’re new to all of this, and I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. Next time—”

“Next time?” Ava said harshly, outraged. “Are you kidding? There’s not going to be a next time!” Ava felt sick at the very thought of it, another wave of roiling nausea twisting in her stomach.
 

Emma rubbed her shoulders gently, her gaze penetrating. “Relax, Ava. Calm down. Take deep breaths.”

Ava nodded, breathing in sync with Emma.

“It’s okay,” Emma said, soothing her with her words, her touch. “You didn’t mean to do it, did you?”

“No.” Ava hiccupped. “No, of course not.”

“Then you’re not responsible for it,” she said firmly.
 

Ava found herself nodding again, her thoughts calming. “I’m not,” she said, swiping at her tears. “It wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t. You’d never hurt anything on purpose, would you?”

“No.”

“No, you wouldn’t. Not unless it was trying to hurt you . . . or someone important to you, right?”

Ava nodded again. Her head felt muzzy, full of cotton, Emma’s words the only thing cutting through. The only thing making sense.

“You’re so strong, Ava,” Emma said, smoothing a hand over Ava’s hair. “And you’re only going to get stronger with time. You’ll see.”

A crackling of branches had them both jumping to their feet, one of Ava’s boulders doing a half-hearted defensive jump.
 

Caleb appeared at the edge of the forest, climbing over a downed log as he took in the destruction around him with a mixture of shock and confusion. His gaze landed on the bear and he choked slightly, taking few hurried but cautious steps toward Ava.

“What happened, Ava?” he asked. “What did you do?”
 

For a moment, Ava was overcome by guilt and shame—confusion as she saw what she’d done through his eyes. Emma ran a hand down her arm gently.

“It’s all right,” she said in her calming, hypnotic voice. “He just doesn’t understand.”

Yes. That’s right.
 

Caleb didn’t understand. Maybe Ava could explain it to him.
 

He stood a few feet away, watching her carefully. “Ava, are you all right?” he asked. “Your nose is bleeding again.”

Ava raised a shaking hand. Her chin and lips were wet. She stared blankly at the red smudges on her trembling fingertips.

What? Why?
 

“It doesn’t matter,” Emma said, pulling a napkin from her coat pocket. “It will be fine.”

“It’s fine.” Ava nodded slowly, Emma’s dark gaze calming her fears.

Emma cast a glance over her shoulder at the bear. “You can make it go away now.”
 

Ava didn’t look at the bear, only into Emma’s hypnotic eyes, visualizing the empty space where the dead bear used to lie.
 

Emma looked over again. “Good,” she said. “You’re doing so well, Ava.” She rubbed a palm over Ava’s head again, smoothing her hair. “It’s going to be okay.”

“Ava, what’s going on?” Caleb asked, stepping forward slowly. He seemed worried. In fact, he looked almost . . . 
afraid
of her.

“I was practicing,” she said. Her throat felt raw and she swallowed thickly.

“In the middle of the night?”

Ava shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to him.” Emma patted her arm. “He doesn’t understand.”

“Understand what, exactly?” Caleb asked, turning his attention on Emma. “And why are you here?”

“I’m helping.”

“Yeah. I can see that.” He looked around at their ravaged surroundings and focused, wide-eyed, on the twisted pile of fallen trees.
 

“She’s very powerful,” Emma said. “You can’t hold her back.”

“I don’t want to hold her back!”
 

Ava felt a wave of irritation at how he was talking about her as if she wasn’t standing right there.
 

“I also don’t want to see her hurt,” he said.

“I’m not hurt,” Ava said quickly. “I’m fine. Emma’s helping me.” Her head throbbed and she rubbed absently at her temple.

Caleb came toward her, his face softening. “You’re not fine, Ava. You’re pale as a ghost, and you’re covered with blood. Something’s wrong. You’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Emma snapped. “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

She turned to Emma, confused. “I don’t understand.”

“I know.” She squeezed Ava’s shoulder gently. “It’s all right. I’m going to help you. But you have to see, Caleb is only keeping you down.”

Ava glanced at Caleb, a tingle of worry twisting in her gut. “He wouldn’t do that.”
 

Would he?
 

“Not on purpose, but people fear what they don’t understand.”

“Ava, don’t listen to her.” Caleb stepped forward, taking her hand and holding it firmly. “She’s doing something to you. You can’t trust her.”
 

“Of course you can trust me,” Emma said in her low, reassuring voice.
 

Ava couldn’t keep herself from looking into the girl’s eyes. They pulled at her . . . comforted her. They told her that Emma understood her. She wanted to help her.

“He doesn’t want you to reach your full potential,” Emma said sharply. “He’s afraid of your power.”

“Caleb?”
 

“Come with me, Ava,” he begged, tugging on her arm. She didn’t move, and Caleb glared at Emma. “Let go of her.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t understand . . . what’s happening?” Ava swayed a bit on her feet. Emma turned back to her, giving her power a boost, and Ava steadied.
 

“He wants to take you away from me,” Emma said. “He wants to keep you for himself. Keep you weak.”

“That’s not true. Don’t listen to her, Ava.”

Emma continued as if he hadn’t spoken, and Ava couldn’t look away. “He’s afraid of you, Ava. He knows you’re going to become one of the most powerful people on earth. Much more powerful than him. He’s jealous.”

“Ava, she’s twisting your mind.” Caleb’s voice came to her as if from a great distance and then faded away.

“You have to show him,” Emma said, her eyes piercing and black, that little sliver of pale green the only lightness in her gaze. “Show him he can’t keep you from what’s rightfully yours.”

“Mine?”

“He’ll put you at the mercy of the Council. Or worse, the humans. You’re better than that, Ava. You deserve more than that.”

Ava blinked. She didn’t like the sound of being at anyone’s mercy. She turned to Caleb. “Why?”

“Ava, no.” His face crumpled. “You can’t believe that. You need to come with me. I can help you.”

“Help me how?”
 

“We can run some tests. Find out what’s happening to you.”

“I heard him talking with Gideon.” Emma brought a hand up to cup her cheek, her fingers pressing in hard. “They want to take you to New Elysia.”

“Is that true?” Ava asked, feeling sick with betrayal at the expression on Caleb’s face.

“Only as a last resort,” he said. “And not against your will, Ava.”

She shook off his hand. “How could you?”

He reached out to grab her again, and her gift flared up, throwing him backward.

“You can’t trust him, Ava,” Emma said, standing next to her.
 

“She’s the one you can’t trust!” Caleb shouted, getting to his feet.
 

“You know that’s not true.” Emma took her hand, and Ava relished the feeling of Emma’s power surging through her, making her stronger. “There is something I didn’t tell you Ava, because I wasn’t sure you were ready. I think you are now.”

“What? What is it?”
 

Emma raised their joined hands, and Ava caught sight of her tattoo—the curved lines, parentheses facing opposite directions, a line crossing both in the center.
 

Like a sideways H.
 

Ava turned Emma’s arm slightly.

Like the H on the corner of the baby blanket back home.

“Yes,” Emma breathed. “You know it. Don’t you?”

“It’s . . . on my blanket.”

Emma nodded. “You remember what I told you?”

Ava stared at the symbol, now so obviously the same. How had she not noticed it before? “It’s the symbol for Pisces,” she said, her words slurring a little. Her head throbbed as she tried to understand what was happening. “Your sign.”

Caleb started toward her, but Ava held him back without conscious thought, her gift protecting her.

“Not really my sign, no,” Emma told her, tilting her head with a slight smile. “In the Zodiac, it’s the twelfth sign.”

“Twelfth?” Ava’s mind whirled.
 

The blanket. The symbol. Destiny.
 

“The Twelve.”

“Yes.” Emma smiled. “I’m one of The Twelve, as well. My father is Elias Borré.” When Ava continued to gape at her, she added with gentle touch to Ava’s cheek. “We’re sisters, Ava.”

Sisters?

Caleb pressed his palms against the invisible barrier keeping him from Ava, feeling his way along it in hopes of finding a hole—an opening of some kind. But no. Ava didn’t even seem to be paying attention to him, but she was somehow keeping him at bay. Her gift, it appeared, had developed the ability to work without her direct control.