The Guardians (MORE Trilogy) (35 page)

Ava’s stomach rumbled, but she couldn’t bring herself to eat. She sat between Tiernan and Caleb in the common room, huddled over sandwiches and lukewarm coffee, and she toyed with the bread, breaking off pieces and crumbling them between her fingers. She’d slept for a couple of hours curled up with Caleb on the futon, and she almost felt back to normal.

Almost.

Her head still throbbed a little, a reminder of the huge output of power she’d displayed. Caleb assured her they’d figure it out, but Emma’s words haunted her.
 

“Once we get home, back to Father, It won’t hurt anymore.”

Her father. A Rogue bent on taking over the world.
 

Perfect.

Tiernan waved a hand in front of her face, and she looked up to see him watching her carefully. “You sure you’re all right?” he asked.

“I wish people would stop asking me that,” she grumbled but then sighed heavily. “I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed by it all, you know? Not every day you find out you were created for world domination.”

Tiernan snorted. “Think pretty highly of yourself for someone who couldn’t even move a training block until a few days ago.”

“Yeah, well, I can sure do it now.” She eyed him, the challenge clear in her gaze. “You want to try me?”
 

Tiernan laughed, but it was Caleb who spoke. “Probably best not to push yourself until we figure out the headaches and nosebleeds,” he said. She knew what he wasn’t saying. They had no idea if there was any lasting damage, or if there would be.

“Not to mention the little fact that I’m still wanted for murder,” she said with a grimace, shoving her plate away.

“I think it’s safe to assume the Rogues are behind that as well.”
 

“But why? What could they possibly hope to gain?”

He shrugged. “Pretty simple, actually. To limit your options. You can’t go home. You
won’t
go to the Council. Reveal the Colony to the Protector”—he eyed Tiernan— “or to the
Council,
and you have no place here as well. You have nowhere to go but to them.”

“But I’m not going to reveal the Colony’s location,” Tiernan said, leaning back in his chair. “I suppose they didn’t account for that.”
 

“Which means the plan isn’t foolproof,” Caleb said. “They are ahead of us, though. From what Emma said, I think they may already hold the key to what’s happening to Ava, physically.”

“Well, we better figure it out soon,” Tiernan said before swallowing the last of his sandwich and washing it down with coffee. “We’re going to need Ava to go up against the Rogues. Especially if there are more of her out there.”

“Not more
of
her,” Gideon said, taking the seat across from Ava. “Others
like
her.”

Caleb nodded and shared knowledge from his time with the Rogues. “Borré is the father of all of them, but they all have different mothers. Each woman was carefully screened and chosen for her unique gifts in an effort to pass those gifts on to the offspring.”

“So he created an army of superior Race, each with different abilities?” Tiernan asked.

Gideon nodded. “It makes sense. They’d work together, each having a role in his plan.”

Ava groaned, her head falling forward to clunk on the table and narrowly missing her plate. “It’s so ridiculous. Like a comic book. He made a Justice League, only with villains.”

“You’re not a villain,” Caleb said.

“So not the point.” She stood up, throwing her hands in the air. “Don’t you get it? This was all part of his insane plan. Every single bit of it—us finding the Rogue lair
 . . .
” She shot a glance at Tiernan. “Getting Emma . . . that’s why it was so easy, you know? The whole mess with Caleb and Borré’s escape—probably even Borré getting captured in the first place! He’s played us like pawns in his little game, and I’m sick of it!” She collapsed back into the chair at the thought of Officer Simmons. “People have died—
are
dying—and all because of some twisted plan to manipulate me.”

“It didn’t work.” Caleb reached for her hand.
 

“Regardless,” Gideon said, “it looks like the time has come for them to collect these . . . Twelve . . . and put their plan in motion. The good part is—”

“There’s a good part?” Ava knew she sounded like a child. She didn’t care.

Gideon shook his head slightly. “The good part is that Ava’s shown us The Twelve aren’t puppets. They have to either be lured to the cause or compelled—which would be difficult to do if they’re all as strong as Ava. Perhaps that’s something Borré hadn’t counted on.”

“Which means,” Tiernan said, sitting back in his chair and tugging at his lip briefly, “that if we can get to some of them first, we might have a weapon against Borré’s plan.”

“But how are we supposed to find them, let alone convince them to join us?” Ava asked.

They were all silent for a long moment, exchanging significant glances.
 

Ava’s stomach sank.
 
“Oh no,” she said slowly.
 
“You can’t really think—”

“It’s the only way, Ava. They have far more tools at their disposal,” Caleb said, reaching for her hand under the table.
 

She turned wide eyes on Gideon. “And you agree? After everything, you want to go to the Council with this? They’ll lock you up and throw away the key!”

“Not if we do things right,” Tiernan interjected. “I can help ease the way. And I’ll get Katherine in on it, too. She can be very convincing.”

Caleb tried to reassure her. “Rafe will help.”
 

“And Andreas,” Tiernan said.
 

Caleb looked a bit surprised at that but didn’t comment.

“But what about
 . . .
” Ava’s eyes trailed to Gideon, who was watching her, his expression unreadable.

“Madeleine will do what’s best for the Race,” he said quietly. “She always does. We’ll just have to convince her that working with us is the best option. The only option.”

Ava’s heart ached for the Guardian leader. After what he’d revealed about his relationship with Madeleine, Ava could only imagine what it would be like for him to face her again.
 

But if he could do it . . . 

“All right,” she said, nodding firmly. “Okay. I’m in.”

Emma Reiko made her way to a nondescript house in the suburbs of Seattle, ignoring the driver she’d compelled to give her a lift once she’d made it out of the Canadian wilderness. He hummed along with the radio, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, and the girl huffed in irritation, tempted to push him to drive across the country once he dropped her off, just for the fun of it.

Humans really were so annoying. But his car was comfortable and fast. And with her gift, speeding tickets weren’t a concern, so all in all, it was worth putting up with him.

“Turn right at the next corner.” She checked her reflection in the visor mirror before snapping it back into place. “Third house on the left.”

He pulled to a stop in the driveway and got out of the car, running around to the other side to open Emma’s door.
 

She got out, nodding at him and earning a dreamy smile for her efforts.
 

So. Annoying.

“On your way, now,” she told him, touching his forehead as she toyed with his mind. “You never saw me or this place, all right?”

The man nodded, dazed, and got back into the sports car. The engine roared loudly and the tiles squealed as he drove away.

Emma looked up at the house, knowing what was waiting for her and that it wouldn’t be pleasant.
 

Things had not gone as planned with Ava, not at all. And her father was not going to be happy about what Emma had done. He’d ordered her to get close to Ava—earn her trust and in time, convince her to return home. Not to try and compel her unless as a last resort. And she was supposed to run it by him first.

But what was Emma supposed to have done? The Rogues had failed miserably in their attempt to take Ava, and once Emma had spilled the beans about how she’d tampered with Caleb—which she’d had to do or they would have left her at some safe house, thank you very much—she had no choice but to reverse the effects. Not that he was important anyway. Ava was the important one, and gaining her trust was Emma’s primary mission.

A mission she’d undeniably failed.

Emma took a deep breath and started up the walk. There was no putting it off any longer. It was time to face the music. The thought brought a wry smile to her lips as she heard the familiar strains of classical piano through the door.

Emma raised a hand to knock, but the door flew open before she could touch it. Father did enjoy theatrics, on occasion. She walked in, following the quiet music down a hallway to the back of the house.
 

Father sat at the piano, his eyes closed as he played one of his favorite pieces.
 

Rachmaninov, Emma thought, although she couldn’t be sure. Her tastes trended toward more current artists.

She stood in the doorway, waiting, as he finished the piece, the notes hanging in the air for a moment before he lowered his hands and turned on the stool to face her.

“Well, you’ve certainly made a mess of things, haven’t you?” he asked, eyes glittering in the lamplight. His right was black, like Emma’s; the other, gold, like Ava’s. His hair was brown and wavy, not like either of them, and Emma often wondered which of her siblings had inherited that trait.

“I’m sorry, Father,” she said quietly. “I only did what I thought was necessary.”

“Yes, but that’s not really your job, is it?” His voice was calm.
 

Emma knew better than to be reassured by the fact he didn’t seem angry. “No, Father.”

“You were to get close to your sister. Form a friendship. Earn her trust.”

“Yes, Father.”

“And you tried to move too fast, in the end, pushing her away.” He stood, crossing to Emma, his tall frame looming over hers. “Did any of your work hold?”

Emma swallowed thickly, her eyes on the toes of her shoes. “I don’t know.”

“No. It. Didn’t.”
 

She looked up in surprise before thinking better of it.
 

“Yes, I
know
,” he said shortly as her gaze dropped again. “Of course I
know
. I have eyes and ears everywhere, dear daughter. Nothing escapes my attention. Your sister shook off your compulsion like it was
nothing
.” He reached out, his finger sweeping slowly down a lock of hair before tucking it behind her ear. The finger continued down her cheek and hooked under her chin, lifting her face until she met his gaze.

“This is why you must follow my instructions,” he said kindly, his thumb stroking her cheek. “Everything we’re doing is according to a very detailed plan. Each step must be followed in order as part of a carefully controlled timeline. If you go off on your own
 . . .
” His grip tightened on her chin painfully, and tears formed in Emma’s eyes. “You run the risk of ruining everything we’ve worked for. Do you understand?”

She tried to nod, but he held her tight. “Yes, Father,” she whispered, tears of shame trickling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Father.”

“I know you are, dear girl.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and released her. “This is a setback, but not one we cannot overcome.” A wayward curl had fallen forward over his brow, and he swept it back to lie smoothly with the rest. Her father always liked things in order.
 

“I still have faith your sister will join us, but we need to move forward to bring home the others.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Are you up for the task?”

She nodded, desperate to get back in his good graces. “Of course, Father. You know I am.”

“Good.” He touched her cheek again, a soft smile on his face. “That’s good.” His smile fell. “Unfortunately, I cannot allow such disobedience to go unpunished.”

Emma swallowed nervously, her stomach twisting in fear, but she held his gaze. Father did not tolerate cowardice. “I understand.”

“It’s for you own good. So you remember next time and don’t repeat the same mistake.”