The Honor Trilogy: Books One, Two, and Three of the Honor Trilogy (10 page)

“As I was about to say…” I can’t help myself, I have to add that in. “Storm told me he knew the guy…or guys…who were after us – us, empaths.”

Ethan breathes a sigh of relief, though I do not know why. “Oh…yeah…but…Storm said he knew the guy? So he
is
involved.”

“I don’t think so. It didn’t sound that way to me. He actually seemed worried about it.”

“Yeah, right. He’s probably just worried about his own ass.” Ethan can’t help himself either, I guess.

“Whatever, whoever, it is, we need to figure it out. If someone’s out there killing people, we can’t have him coming to Jefferson. We can’t let him, Ethan.”

“I know, babe. I just wish…wait, I
do
know who it is.” Ethan confesses. “I don’t know him personally, but I know
of
him…if it
is
him.” Ethan starts mumbling, but I think he says, “Boy, I just wish I knew what Storm had to do with this.”

“Ethan, why are you so hard-pressed to believe Storm is involved?”

“You like him don’t you?” Ethan shoots back, pulling away from me and standing up.

Not again. “Of course not. I just don’t think he is as bad as you believe he is.”

“Did you forget about Summer?” Ethan is clearly annoyed with me and probably not going to drop this jealousy thing anytime soon.

“No, I didn’t forget her, but I think Storm feels…I don’t know, but I don’t think he meant it.”

“Did he tell you that?” Ethan snaps.

“No, he didn’t, but I felt it.” I cringe, knowing Ethan wouldn’t like that, but it’s the truth.

“He stole our stuff, Honor. Or do you
feel
that he didn’t?”

“That was uncalled for, and no, I have no clue, but if he did steal our id, then why?”

“That’s what I wanna know.” Ethan sighs. “Listen, Honor, I’m sorry I’m so touchy when it comes to Storm.” He takes my hands and pulls me off the bed. Catching my eyes in the process, there are now two pairs of violet eyes searching deep inside each other – to maybe catch a glimpse of each other’s souls? “I trust your feelings,” he resigns. “An empath’s feelings are strong, and as far as I know, extremely accurate. For some reason, I get nothing when I’m around Storm, but I’ll take your word for it and…” Ethan pauses, probably trying to swallow the words caught in his throat. Admitting a lifelong nemesis may not be the evil being he always assumed is never an easy task. “I’ll try to give Storm the benefit of the doubt.”

“It’s just my intuition. You may be right about him. I don’t know,” I admit.

“Mmm.” I watch as Ethan shakes his head at my fickleness.

It makes me chuckle. With Ethan already holding my hands, I pull him quickly toward me and kiss him smack on the lips.

Ethan laughs along with me, but I know it’s only surface deep. He is not feeling it. Too much on his mind I guess. “So did Shelby bother you much today?”

“Not today.” I laugh. “She wasn’t in.”

“You know, I’m this close to saying something to her myself. I hate the way she treats you.”

“Do you think I can’t stand up for myself, Ethan?”

“You’re not doing a very good job of it.”

“I’m
choosing
to ignore her. It’s a choice. Her words don’t hurt me. Her situation does.”

“You amaze me. How can you care about someone who’s so nasty to you?”

“We’re empaths. You don’t?”

He shakes his head. “I’ve had eighteen years to get over that. You’re just realizing what you’re feeling – you’ll learn to close your heart eventually.”

“Close my heart? That’s so sad. I feel sorry for you if that’s what you’ve done.”

Ethan sits back on the bed and holds me on his lap. When he looks at me, his eyes flash a deep purple, and the creepy crawly feeling climbing up my spine indicates his intense indignation. “Don’t judge me, Honor. When the pain gets too much, you’ll see. It’s either close your heart or live in total isolation.” He turns his gaze at the wall, and when he speaks again his voice is much softer. “Which is what I was doing…’til I came looking for you.”

“What? I never asked you to come looking for me. I never asked to know about my past or whatever. Why are you here, then, Ethan? Go. Go back to your isolated life. I was fine before you came along.” I walk away from him and go to the window.

I hear his footsteps behind me. “Honor, please. I’m sorry.” He stands next to me and peers out the window too. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, I’m glad I found you.”

I keep my eyes out the window; it’s easier to ignore him that way. Once I get a glimpse of his face, I know I’ll cave. And I am not ready yet. Maybe in a minute or two.

“I’m also glad I’ve fallen in love with you.”

Oh boy, ignoring him is getting much harder.

“I shouldn’t have come. I realize that now. But when I saw you on the news…I…”

Now I look at him. “You what?”

“I was afraid someone would find you.” Ethan shakes his head again. “They obviously didn’t…they would have been here by now, but I saw you. I’d heard your story all my life.”

“Ethan, you’re rambling. What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.”

“No. I want. To know. Now,” I demand.

He drops his head and looks back up to meet me in the eyes. “When you were three, your grandfather was murdered right in front of you.”

“What?”

“Your great-great-great-something-or-other grandfather.” Ethan holds my hand and walks me back towards the bed.

“I had a great-great-great grandfather? Who was alive in my lifetime? How is that even possible?”

“Your great times three or four grandfather was an empath…who’d killed…several times…with his
bare
hands.”

That sounds…harsh…and mean.

“Legend has it he wasn’t a very
nice
man but an extremely intelligent one. A scientist. From what my parents had told me, he took you out for a walk through some woods one day, and someone murdered him…right in front of you. They found you kneeling over him.” Ethan rubs my arms, aware that I have goose bumps sprouting out all over them. “They think you were trying to save him. It was so long ago, but this was how the story was passed on. You had both hands on his chest, and I think, from what I’ve heard, whoever found you – scared you away and you ran.”

Ethan cuddles me from behind and holds me tight. He continues telling me about my past. “Your parents were warned that whoever murdered your granddad was on the lookout for you. He must’ve seen you, and realized you were an empath. And well, it was right after your parents were approached that they gave you up and…disappeared.”

“Wait. Disappeared? I thought they died.”

“Yeah, well, we assumed they died; they were so frail and weak. They’d reached their limit in healing people. Once you were gone, the community figured they’d left to die. I’m sorry.”

What could I say? I never knew them anyway. “I appreciate your honesty.” Then it hit me. “Wait. So this guy is still after me?”

His frozen stare says it all.

“Oh, Ethan, what am I gonna do? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t want to scare you. We are still not sure who he is. There’s a group who hang with him, but…Hunter says they call him Gaffer.”

“Like a TV lighting guy?”

“No. I think it’s an old term for old man or boss or something. I don’t know anyone who knows what this guy looks like. I’ll tell you one thing – he’s about as old as that granddad of yours, but he may not look it. It all depends on when he made his first kill.”

“Whattya mean?”

“When an empath kills, he stays the age he was when he first killed. Nice, huh?”

“So we don’t even know what type of guy to look for?”

Ethan shakes his head. “His followers may not even know. They do what he asks, though. He contacts them through messenger or phone calls.” Ethan shrugs. “I’m sure it’s easier now that cell phones are around, but he’s an extremely powerful man. And he’s after you for something. But…”

“But what?” Ethan’s scaring me.

“Maybe just ‘cause you witnessed the murder, but there’s a rumor your granddad left you something ancient.”

“How’s that possible? My parents gave me up when I was not even four years old.”

Ethan’s shoulders drop. “I don’t know, sweetie. I just don’t know.”

“Will Storm know?” Now more than ever I need to find Storm.

“He may. I’m not sure. He could be working with this group. But I told you…I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“Can’t we just talk to him?”

“No. Not you. I will. When he gets back from wherever he is. If he gets back. And of course, when his guard is down…maybe.”

“Hmmm.” But I think  -
Storm’s guard is
never
down.

Since Ethan is worried for my welfare, he talks my mom and dad into letting him stay over for the weekend – claiming it is too crowded in his studio apartment for three grown men – his uncle and brother who are staying with him for a while. Mom and Dad agree that Ethan can stay as long as he needs…provided he inhabits the guest room. My stomach begins its usual fluttering just thinking about Ethan staying overnight. I never even had a girl sleep over…no slumber parties…nothing. Now I have a boy, whom I like, staying in the room right next to mine. I’m not your usual excitable teenage girl, but having Ethan as an overnight guest makes me giddy, God help me.

With only the four of us in the house this weekend, Ethan’s and my pain are at a minimum. It’s reminiscent of when I was home schooled and not going out much. Only now I am not suffering from loneliness. I have Ethan. And he has me – just the way I like it. The entire weekend we barely talk about evil empaths and murders and…Storm. We just enjoy each other like normal boyfriend and girlfriend. After playing a game of Scrabble and a several-hour game of Monopoly, we turn on my iPod and share ear buds. I cuddle close, enjoying his musky scent and root beer breath. Later, my parents go to bed, and we decide to raid the kitchen. Together we bake double chocolate brownies with chocolate chunks that mom has hidden in the cupboard. I am in Heaven right here in my own home. My fluttering stomach had subsided sometime during the weekend, and I am now comfortably relishing in Ethan’s company.

Though Ethan is staying with us for the duration of his family’s visit, I am sad to see Monday arrive. I am already looking forward to another quiet weekend at home with my boyfriend.

***

When I walk into homeroom, I feel something amiss. The principal is whispering to the teacher, and I am filled with despair. The sadness overcomes me and I am afraid to know the reason. My body becomes chilled, and though I try to stay still, I am shaking so hard everyone is staring at me. The clicking in the room is the sound of my own teeth chattering.

When the teacher excuses the principal, and quietly asks for her attention, she says, “I have some terrible news.”

My heart drops to the bottom of my already jumbled stomach.

“Shelby Marten’s illness took a turn for the worse,” the teacher continues. “It looks like the doctors have given her only days to live.”

This is why my feelings of hopelessness feel so personal. Shelby really is ill.

“Her cancer has spread through her bones and organs, and there is nothing more they can do.” I hear Ms. Williams speaking, but it sounds like she’s talking through the other end of a tunnel. “I just ask of the class to give a moment of silence for your prayers or your positive thoughts that Shelby is in as little pain as possible these last few days.”

The class remains silent, and though my eyes are closed to try and contain my tears, I feel their prayers. Each and every one of them.

But prayers are not enough.

I can take away her pain.

I can cure her.

How could I just sit here praying when I am capable of
really
helping her?

I pack up my stuff and stand from my desk. “I’m sorry, Ms. Williams,” I say through a crackling voice and teary eyes. “I need to leave.” I don’t wait for her response…or her permission. I just flee.

Luckily Mom isn’t back to work yet, and I still have her car.

One problem – I have no idea where Shelby Marten lives.

I pull into the library parking lot hoping for a chance at some help. Since Mom is the head librarian, maybe someone there would help me right away.

“Honor.” I hear when I walk through the door. “How come you’re not in school? Is your mother all right?”

“Yes, Marge. She’s well actually. I’m just not feeling great today.” I hesitate, knowing I shouldn’t be asking this. “I don’t know if you’ve heard about Shelby Marten.”

“Oh yes, that poor dear. Her parents must be beside themselves.”

“I agree. I feel so bad for them. Especially Shelby.” I take a breath…for courage. “I want to send her some balloons or something, but…I don’t know her address. Do you happen to know where she lives?”

“Hmm. Not
personally,but she does have a card here. I’m not really supposed to do this, but since you’re Leanne’s daughter, it should be okay…It’s not like your mother wouldn’t give it to you if she were here.”

A huge sigh of relief escapes me, and I blush, embarrassed by my display of emotion. “Thanks, Marge. I appreciate it.”

She writes the address on a piece of paper and slides it across the desk. Wow. Shelby lives right near my house. Mom had kept me so sheltered growing up that I wasn’t even aware of who my neighbors were.

When I pull in front of Shelby’s house, my nerves are frayed. I am anxious, scared and beginning to feel that familiar ache in my bones, but I focus on why I’m here then head to the door.

“Hello, Ms. Marten?” I offer when a red-eyed woman opens the door.

“Yes, may I help you?”

“I…I’m…a…classmate of Shelby’s. I was wondering if I…could see her…if she’s up for it.”

Her tears fall, and I’m guessing this isn’t the first time today that she’s cried. “Well, she’s probably sleeping,” she says between sobs. “She’s on a high dose of morphine, but I guess it’ll be all right.” She opens the door wider to let me in.

Following her to the back room, we pass a myriad of photographs of Shelby hanging on the walls and adorning the furniture along the way. The room we enter is a bright yellow sun room with skylights and windows everywhere. Towards the back of the room, under a pale cream canopy, Shelby Marten lies feeble and tomblike – her eyelids purple and sunken, her skin the color of ash. She is so not like the blustering bully I’d met with in the cafeteria.

I inch closer, holding out an apprehensive arm. The pain is near intolerable. I brace myself mentally before making contact. Reminding myself of poor Shelby’s horrific suffering helps.

I start slowly. As soon as my fingers touch her forearm, I nearly buckle over in pain. The fluxion of stinging pain from her body to mine is fierce. Though my instinct is to pull away, I squeeze her arm with my whole palm, willing myself to ignore how excruciating it is. My slow shift over her body to place my hand on her heart aids in lessening my already wanting confidence in healing her. If I’m going to do this, it has to be straightaway. Faltering no more, my hand hovers gently over her heart, feeling an exaggerated stinging, before laying it flat against her chest. Heat builds until my hand is scorched. Like a swarm of bees moving en masse over their prey, the color scarlet rapidly streams up my arm until I can no longer see the natural color of my flesh. My arm is on fire and my bones feel like they are going to crumble under the intense heat. It is impossible to remain focused anymore and I slowly begin sliding into unconsciousness. As I fade, Shelby’s eyes open…and I know I have done my job.

The next thing I am aware of is two medical people hovering over me, fading in and out of my vision. The blare of the sirens pierces my eardrums.

“Honor?” I hear repeatedly. It may be Shelby.

“Honor?” I hear it again. It’s not Shelby.

“Honor?”

“Huh?” My voice. I hear it, but I don’t. I’m in some kind of daze.

“Honor? Honey. You’re in an ambulance. Your parents are in their car behind us. They’re going to meet us at the hospital.” Her image gets clearer. Louder.

“Honor? You fell unconscious sweetie. We just want to make sure everything is okay. You scared everyone, honey.” It’s the paramedic. She smiles.

“Shelby?” I manage in a broken whisper.

“Shelby? Oh, the sick girl you were visiting? She’s fine sweetheart. A little confused as to why you were there and…well…a little confused as to why she is feeling so well. Her mother said she was pretty much hours away from dying. With all this going on, they think maybe her adrenaline sparked some energy. Anyway…don’t you go worrying about her right now. We
gotta tend to you at the moment.”

I’m slowly returning to a state of full consciousness. I’m drained but cognizant of my surroundings. In minutes, we are at the hospital, and they are transporting me through the emergency room.

“Honor, sweetie, what happened?” my dad asks.

“Oh, Honor, we’re so glad you’re okay.” Mom states almost simultaneously.

“What were you doing at Shelby’s house?” Dad’s voice is weak, and I think,
he just got Mom out of health’s danger, now he’s here with me.

I am too exhausted to explain. “Just…I don’t…know.” I trail off a bit at the end, not having enough energy to finish.

“Oh, Honor. Look at you. You look so…tired.” Mom cries. “What happened in there? I know you’re too tired to talk, but…Shelby said you were holding her? Honey, I didn’t know you were even friends with her.”

“Actually, I hear she’s not even nice to you,” Dad quips.

“How?” I ask. How does he know? I never told him that.

“We texted Ethan on our way in. He called us back. He’s very upset. He’ll be here soon. We told him not to leave school, but he insisted.”

Speak of the beautiful devil. In he walks in all his blond gorgeousness. I’m not that out of it that I can’t appreciate his beauty.

“Honor, goddammit, what did you do?” Ethan reprimands.

I see my father’s eyes shoot up to his receding hairline. Mom’s brows furrow. I’m sure they’re wondering why he’s so upset with me.

Ethan walks toward me shaking his head. “What the hell, Honor?” He asks before kissing me on the tip of my nose. “Was it worth it?”

“What’s he talking about?” Mom and Dad ask, clearly annoyed at the tone Ethan is taking with me.

Ethan and I look at each other. After letting out an audible sigh, Ethan responds, “Mr. and Mrs. Stevens.”

I hold my breath for fear of my parents’ reaction to what Ethan is about to tell them.

“Shelby does nothing but bully Honor. She’s even gone so far as pushing her. I just don’t see why Honor had to go there in the first place, that’s all,” he says, lying through his teeth.

I could have sworn he was going to tell them about my empathic abilities, but then, he wouldn’t. That would just turn everything upside down.

“Is that all you’re upset with boy?” My dad throws up his hands in exasperation. “Honor’s a forgiver. She doesn’t hold grudges. And from what we were just told, that girl was on her deathbed. What harm could it have done Honor by going there?”

I hear Ethan let out a cynical chuckle as he holds up his palms in my direction. As if to say,
hello, your daughter ended up in the hospital because of her forgiving nature.
But not having a reasonable nor believable explanation, Ethan holds his tongue.

“I just don’t like her to set herself up for rejection, Mr. Stevens.” Ethan turns to me and takes my hand, looking at it while he slides his hand up and down my arm. “These are delicate hands, Honor,” he whispers, almost mouthing the words so only I can hear. “You need to be careful who they touch.”