The MORE Trilogy (30 page)

“I have no idea.” Ava laughed humorlessly, turning toward the door. “They ask all these questions, do all these tests, but nobody
tells
me anything.”

Caleb nodded. It was standard procedure. Ava would find out the results the following morning when the Council made its ruling.

“I know it’s frustrating,” he said. “But it’s the way the Council operates. The good news is, the testing is over. There’s nothing to do now but wait.”

Ava rubbed her eyes as Caleb held the door for her and they walked out into the bright sunshine.

“So,” he said, forcing a note of cheer into his voice. “What do you feel like for dinner? Pizza? Sushi? We have a pretty good Greek place.”

“Actually, I was thinking I’d like to cook tonight.”

“Really?”

Ava smiled, shrugging slightly. “It relaxes me, and I think it might help take my mind off things.”

“Well, I’m not one to turn down a home-cooked meal,” he replied, grabbing her elbow and turning them around in the opposite direction. “But I don’t have any food in the house, so we’ll have to go shopping.”

“You super humans have grocery stores?”

Caleb rolled his eyes. “Of course we have grocery stores. Where else would we go to get our kryptonite and apocalyptic freeze rays?”

Ava laughed, and Caleb enjoyed helping her forget her troubles, even for a little while.

“But where does it all come from?” she asked, waving a hand around her. “Chinese restaurants, pizza places, grocery stores. And you’re on the side of a mountain hidden by a magical cloak. It’s not like you teleport all your supplies in.” She eyed him curiously. “You don’t teleport your supplies in, right?”

This time it was Caleb’s turn to laugh. “Sometimes,” he admitted. “There are shifters who have a much stronger gift than me, so they can bring supplies in from long distances if needed. Generally, though, we do it just like you do. The Council has people in charge of procuring what we need, and they go out into your world to obtain it. We have supply trucks kept hidden at the base of the mountain, and shifters bring it up from there.”

Ava nodded. “I’d imagine it would be tough to get a truck up here.”

“We don’t really have a need for vehicles in the city,” he said with a grin. “By the time you back it out of the driveway and get where you’re going, it’s faster to run—or shift.”

“Well, maybe for
some
people.”

Caleb shrugged. “I’m happy to give you a lift wherever you need to go.”

They walked down the street to a small market, and Ava jokingly noted that they were out of kryptonite but smiled when she saw the jars of supplement cubes lined up near the cash registers. She picked out what she needed for the meal, and Caleb trailed after her contentedly, only stepping forward to place his thumb on the reader when it was time to check out.

Ava peeked over his shoulder. “That doesn’t look like Visa.”

He smiled. “It’s not. We don’t use traditional currency in the city. It’s all electronic credits, linked directly to my thumb print.”

“Huh,” Ava said, examining the machine as they gathered their bags. “It’s like a sci-fi movie.”

Caleb shrugged. “I suppose.”

They walked back outside, and Caleb stiffened, spotting a flash of movement across the street.

“What is it?” Ava asked.

“I’m not sure. I thought I saw something.” He started across the street, Ava tagging along behind him. He stopped, glancing back. “Maybe you should wait back there.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. Not gonna happen.”

Caleb huffed, waving her behind him as he proceeded across the street. He ducked between two buildings and searched the parking lot behind them but saw nothing.

“Do you think it was Tiernan? Or maybe Katherine?” Ava asked. “They’re always lurking around, it seems.”

“No, I would have recognized either one of them, even without seeing them,” he replied. “Maybe I’m imagining things.”

“I know the feeling.” Ava turned to follow him back out to the sidewalk. “Who could it be, do you think?”

“I don’t know,” Caleb admitted. “I didn’t recognize their energy.” At Ava’s puzzled look, he tried to explain. “We have the ability to feel energy from individuals. It’s harder with humans, but with the Race, it’s as unique as a fingerprint. Like being able to recognize someone’s voice, or the way they smell.”

Ava bit her lip. “So you know it was someone from the Race, but you don’t know who?”

“Well, someone with Race blood, at least. It could have been a Half-Breed, too,” he said. “The Council probably has someone watching us in case we decide to make a run for it.” Yet, as they continued on their way, Caleb couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than that. He found himself on alert, constantly scanning the area for a sign of whoever he’d spotted—on edge with the jittery sensation that they were both being watched.

Sure, it was possible someone was keeping track of them on the Council’s behalf, but Caleb thought it unlikely. The Council had eyes all over New Elysia, every border monitored by a sophisticated camera network. There was no need for anyone to follow them around because the Council could see where they were any time they were outside.

It left him feeling uneasy, but he tried to put on a calm facade for Ava’s sake. She had enough on her mind.

He relaxed a bit once they arrived at his house, sparing only one more quick glance out the window before turning his attention back to helping Ava with dinner. They spent the evening pleasantly avoiding any talk of the Council or Ava’s testing as she prepared Chicken Marsala with salad and crusty bread. She even baked a batch of chocolate cupcakes for dessert.

“Should I practice?” Ava asked, absently stirring a cup of decaf coffee as they relaxed in the living room after dinner.

She yawned, and Caleb felt torn. She definitely needed to practice, but he also knew exhaustion would make her efforts fruitless. There really was no point anyway. She wouldn’t miraculously gain meticulous control over her abilities overnight. And even if she did, it was a long shot that she’d be able to affect the Council’s decision, anyway. Their only hope would be to throw themselves on the mercy of the court—so to speak—and hope Ava was ordered to remain in New Elysia instead of the alternative.

Caleb didn’t even want to consider that.

Ava yawned again, and he realized she was still waiting for an answer.

“No,” he said. “You probably should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

Ava nodded, taking her cup to the kitchen before heading toward the stairs. She stopped, turning to face him. “Caleb, no matter what happens, I want to thank you.”

“There’s no need—”

“Don’t give me that. I know what you’ve done. You risked yourself to protect me, to help me.”

He looked down into his own cup, shrugging slightly. “It’s not only you, you know. What the Council’s doing . . . it’s wrong. I’ve been feeling that way for a while now. But meeting you . . . I should be thanking you,” he said, lifting his eyes to hers again. “For giving me the courage to finally do what I know is right.”

For a long moment, they stared at each other, the air growing thick and heated. Caleb’s chest tightened as Ava took a tentative step forward, her hand still gripping the handrail at the foot of the stairs. She watched him, licking her lips nervously, and Caleb felt a sudden urge to go to her—to vault the coffee table, sweep across the room, and take her in his arms. Which was crazy.

Maybe, if things were different.

But the rules were very clear. Intermingling with humans, even Half-Breeds, was punishable by death. And that sentence would apply to both of them.

So instead, he took a deep breath and looked away, sipping his cold coffee.

“You better get some rest,” he said, his voice rough and quiet.

He heard a quiet “good night” but when he looked back toward the stairs, Ava was gone.

Despite her exhaustion, Ava tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. The strange moment with Caleb haunted her, and she didn’t know what to think about it, let alone what to do. She’d felt a connection to him in those few seconds when their eyes locked, like perhaps there was more to their relationship than simply Protector and Half-Breed. But then he’d looked away, and Ava realized that, once again, she was letting her imagination get the best of her.

Embarrassed, she’d hurried up the stairs, unwilling to face Caleb after she almost threw herself at him.

Between that and her anxiety over the Council’s decision, she found herself staring up at the ceiling, the wall, then back to the ceiling, her mind whirling with all the possible outcomes and settling on only one.

They would have to run. Again.

She hated it, but she now understood what Caleb had tried to tell her. The Council wouldn’t let her go back to her old life. If they didn’t decide to kill her—and that was still a big if—they would most likely confine her to New Elysia. She’d be cut off from her family, her friends. Her future virtually eliminated and her freedom only a fading memory. Ava couldn’t live like that.

Although she hated the idea of putting Caleb in more danger, she knew he would never let her go by herself. Not that she could, even if she wanted to. She needed him to escape New Elysia, and even if she couldn’t return to her old life, at least she could have some semblance of freedom outside the city borders.

As for her family and friends, maybe Caleb could help them, erase their memories of her so they could live their lives in peace.

Perhaps it was the best she could hope for.

She flopped onto her back and picked up her watch from the bedside table, frowning when she realized it was almost two o’clock in the morning. With a heavy sigh, she got out of bed, deciding that maybe some warm milk and another cupcake might be able to relax her enough so she could get some sleep. Stepping silently into the darkened hallway, she made her way to the stairs by the faint glimmer of the moonlight shining through the skylight overhead.

Ava tiptoed down the stairs only to stop in surprise when she found Caleb asleep in a padded chair pulled up to the front window. He breathed steadily, his head tilted at an uncomfortable angle and his brow creased in concentration, even in sleep. Ava smiled at the thought, picking up a pillow and a knitted throw, which had been tossed artfully over the arm of the sofa, and crossing to him silently. She studied him for a moment and couldn’t resist running a finger lightly over his forehead. He shifted slightly, and she jerked her hand away, unwilling to wake him. Instead, she carefully slid the little pillow under his head and draped the throw over his legs, stepping back to perch on the sofa’s armrest.

Curious, Ava stared at him, tilting her head first one way, then the other. He looked the same as he always did. Cute. Skinny. Pale with sharp cheekbones and shaggy hair just a little too long. But she wondered . . .

Ava took a deep breath, calling on that tingling feeling she now recognized as her Half-Breed power. She continued to focus on Caleb, looking deeper—trying to see beneath the Veil he projected, even in sleep. At first, nothing happened. But right when she was about to give up, she saw a flicker, like a camera going in and out of focus. Encouraged, Ava breathed evenly, willing the Veil to part and give her another glimpse of the true Caleb. With a shimmer, it gave way, revealing his broader physique and golden-toned skin. His lips appeared fuller, cheekbones even sharper—if that were possible—his hair thicker and darker, with strands reflecting the shimmering moonlight.

Ava’s breath caught. He was so incredibly beautiful. She could see how he might be mistaken for an angel. It was intimidating, actually. Seeing him that way, so magnificent and otherworldly, made her feel rather small and insignificant.

Caleb stirred, and Ava pulled back her power, his perfection fading back into the Caleb she knew and loved.

Loved?

No. No, that wasn’t it. She felt an attraction to Caleb, definitely. But she knew enough to realize that it was probably only a reaction to the fact that he saved her life, that he’d taken it upon himself to protect her. Sure, he was smart and brave and funny and . . . wonderful.

Ava sighed. That train of thought was not good. She had enough on her plate without developing some kind of pathetic, one-sided crush on her Protector. And she knew it was one-sided. Caleb had made that perfectly clear the night before.