The MORE Trilogy (42 page)

Caleb hesitated—only briefly, but it was enough for Ava’s instincts to kick in. “What happened?”
 

He sighed again and opened his eyes enough to glance at her sideways. “Sometimes it would be easier if I could lie to you.”

She tugged his hair lightly. “Yeah, but then I’d have to hurt you.”

“You’d have to catch me first.”

“You think you could shift before I could bind you?” she asked with teasing grin. “Didn’t you see Tiernan hanging upside down in the Council chamber?”

Caleb shook his head and closed his eyes again with an amused half smile. “Show off.” He turned onto his side, throwing an arm across her stomach.

“Tell me,” she said quietly, laying her hand on his arm.

Caleb was silent for a long moment. “Someone followed us. Well, followed
me
.”

“Followed you?” A lump formed in Ava’s throat. “Who? Why?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t stick around to find out.”

“I don’t understand.”

Caleb sat up, turning to face her as she did the same. “Someone was able to track my shifts. I lost them when we got to the Canadian border, or at least I thought I did
 . . .
” His eyes took on a faraway look, and he furrowed his brow as if trying to solve a complicated puzzle.

“Caleb?”

“Sorry.” He shook his head, blinking rapidly a few times. “Anyway, they picked me up again when I left the Colony.”

“How do you know it was the same person?”
 

“I know. And not person . . . 
people.
”

Ava scooted closer to him, wrapping her arms around his bent knee. “How do you know you lost them this time?”

When Caleb looked up, he couldn’t hide the worry in his eyes. “I don’t. Not for sure. All I know is I don’t feel them now.” He tilted his head. “Do you?”

Ava closed her eyes, reaching out with her Race senses. For whatever reason, her gift seemed more intense than his—more intense than most, according to Caleb—and she was often able to sense Race presence from much greater distances. She breathed slowly and deeply, focusing as Audrey had taught her at the Guardian safe house all those months ago, searching for the faint tingle to alert her one of her own kind was nearby.

“No,” she said with a heavy exhale as she opened her eyes. “I only feel you. Maybe you should go to the Council. Tell them what happ—”

“I’m not going to the Council.”

“But it could have been Rogues.”

“It wasn’t Rogues,” Caleb snapped. “I don’t know who it was, and I’m not telling anyone until I know more.”

“But—”

“Ava, let it go!” Caleb moved away from her, his back stiff. After a moment, he glanced back, and the frustration on his face softened when he saw her shocked expression. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to yell. I’m just tired. It’s been a long few days and I really want to relax for a bit, you know?”

Ava was still a bit stunned by his reaction. Caleb was always patient with her, sometimes agonizingly so, and it was unlike him to snap at her like that.
 

He reached out and took her hand, rubbing his thumb over it lightly. “I’m sorry.”

She nodded, licking her lips nervously. “It’s okay.”

“It was difficult,” he said after a moment, “being away from you.”

Ava moved closer until they were sitting side by side, shoulders touching. “It was hard for me, too.”

“You felt it, then?”
 

Caleb watched her carefully, as if the question was some kind of test, as though her reply was important. She thought very carefully about exactly
how
she felt.

“I . . . missed you,” she said slowly. “But it was more than that. It was like
 . . .
” She looked up and searched the sky as if amidst the stars she could find the right words. “It was like something was wrong. Something missing. I don’t know. That probably doesn’t even make any sense.” She blushed and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, and rested her chin on top.

“It makes sense,” Caleb said quietly.
 

She looked up, but he was gazing out over the horizon, lost in thought.
 

He took a deep breath. “When we—Race—are . . . involved with someone, we form a bond, not just on a physical and emotional level. You’ve felt it, right? When we’re close?” He looked at her, a small smile on his face.

Ava thought of all the times she’d indulged in that feeling of their gifts mingling, their power twisting back and forth between them, and nodded slowly.

He swallowed, taking her hand, and she felt it once again. “It only gets stronger over time,” he said, lifting his free hand to trace the curves of their joined fingers with the tip of his own, sending sparks of awareness over her skin everywhere he touched. “And even stronger the more . . . 
intimate
 . . . the connection.”
 

He let the words sink in for a moment, and Ava shifted nervously as what he was saying hit home.
 

“It can be overwhelming,” he said, his gaze on their interlocked fingers as he rubbed his thumb gently over hers. “The bond can be . . . addictive. It’s why we have to be so careful.” He looked into her eyes. “It’s why we have to take things slow.”
 

Ava tried to absorb his words, his intense gaze. “Are you saying we could become addicted to each other? Like a drug?”

“The bond is very powerful. We’re taught from a young age to respect it.” He cleared his throat, rubbed at the back of his neck, and he focused on their joined hands once again. “But this life is all new to you, so you need to know what’s in store if we stay together. The intensity of our connection will grow to be more than you can imagine.”

“I don’t mind,” Ava said quickly.
 

Caleb looked up in surprise, a bark of laughter escaping before he could stop it. Ava blushed, of course. He reached out to graze the color with his knuckle. “I don’t either,” he said quietly, his hand dropping to cup her cheek. “But we
should
. The bond is not something to be taken lightly.”

They sat in silence for a moment, then Caleb smiled and his gaze dropped as he reached out to touch her necklace. “You’re wearing it.”

“Of course. I never take it off.”

He slid his hand around it, rubbing the stones with his thumb. “It’s said to have power, you know.”

“Power?”

“The necklace.” He fingered the blue stone. “Azurite stimulates mental activity.” Then the green one. “Fluorite grounds excess energy and is supposed to promote clarity and peace. Together they’re supposed to help focus your abilities. I thought it might help you in your training.”

“Really?” Ava said with a skeptical tilt of her head. “You really believe all that stuff—crystals and magic stones?”

Caleb shrugged. “It’s all electrical impulses. Everything.” He released the necklace and waved his hand in a broad sweep. “The world around us, the air, the ground, you and me. It’s how we’re able to do what we do, by manipulating cells and molecules and electricity and magnetism. The stones are a part of that. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that they could help.”

“Huh.” Ava tried but failed to hide her doubt. “If you say so.”

“You’re a telekinetic with a boyfriend who can teleport, and you’re having trouble with this?” Caleb laughed, getting to his feet and holding out a hand to Ava. “Come on, let’s give it a try.

Ava narrowed her eyes, barely able to make out Caleb’s tall frame as a cloud passed over the moon. After five days, sixteen hours, and twenty-seven minutes without him, training was the last thing on her mind. Still, she was intrigued and gripped his hand as he pulled her to her feet.

“You think it will help me shift?” she asked.

Caleb laughed, pulling her in for a quick kiss. “Couldn’t hurt. But let’s try something else first.”

She glanced around the dark clearing. “No rocks to throw.”

“I was thinking we might try something more physical.”

Ava raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and ran a finger over his stomach. “Oh, really?”

He snorted. “Not
that
kind of physical. I swear, you have a one-track mind.” He kissed her again to soften his words, but gave her a stern look. “Work first. Play later.”

“Spoilsport.” She frowned then clapped her hands and rubbed them together, ready to try whatever Caleb suggested. “All right, then, what do you want me to do?”

“I still can’t figure out why your strength and speed are so lacking,” he replied.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, now, don’t take it so personally. You know what I mean,” he said, shoving her shoulder lightly. “For some reason, those gifts are still blocked for you. I’ve been thinking it’s the same with your electrical imprint and the Veil, for that matter.”
 

No matter how hard Ava tried, she was unable to lift the camouflage that presented her as an ordinary human—average height, slender, pale skin that freckled in the summer, and long, light brown hair. The only visible evidence of her Race heritage was her mismatched brown and hazel-gold eyes, but those were easily hidden, thanks to her colored contacts. While Ava could see through the Veil of others, and others were able to lift their Veil with enough focus, she couldn’t. No matter what she did, she looked human. Normal.

“So you think the block’s still there?”

“Well, at least some of it. It’s the only thing that makes any sense,” Caleb said, searching the area and settling on a grove of cottonwood trees. He started leading Ava toward them. When they reached the trees, he scrutinized them carefully, testing them with a hand before settling on one with a trunk about a foot in diameter. He waved her forward.

“Try to push it.” Ava closed her eyes, and he touched her shoulder to get her attention “
Without
telekinesis.”
 

She stared at him for a moment, and he extended an arm toward the tree with a slight bow. Tentatively, she approached the tree and placed both palms on it.

“Try to clear your mind . . . focus,” he said quietly. “Think about how it felt when the block came down back at the Rogue lair. Picture it in your mind, crumbling brick by brick.”

Ava took a deep breath, Caleb’s voice fading to a low rumble in the background as she focused on her own power. She called it forward, feeling the familiar tingle winding through her, radiating from deep within. She searched for the block keeping it at bay, tried to picture it flowing through her bloodstream and into her muscles. A warm vibration heated her chest, and Ava gasped, one hand flying up to touch the pendant around her neck. She could feel it vibrating under her fingers, and it seemed to intensify her power somehow.
 

“Now push it,” Caleb said.

Ava tensed and took three quick breaths before leaning into the tree, every muscle tightening as she shoved with all her strength.

Nothing happened.

“Again.” Caleb’s voice was tight, and she felt him touch her arm, boosting her power with his own.

She focused on that feeling, envisioned the block falling down—breaking apart—and pushed again.
 

And again.
 

Finally, she opened her eyes, glaring up at the stubborn tree, her fingers digging into the bark.

“Nothing’s happening,” she grumbled, leaning against the tree in defeat. “I can’t do it.”

“Come on. Try again,” Caleb said, a hint of irritation in his tone.

Ava turned to glare at him. “I can’t do it.”

“Of course you can’t if you don’t even try.” He stepped away, turning to another tree and pushing it with all his might. The tree shuddered with a low groan before bending under Caleb’s power, falling to the ground with a crash as the roots popped up from the ground, and spraying dirt in all directions. He brushed off his hands, turning to her with a challenging look. “See? You just have to
try
.”

“I
did
try.” Ava was more than a little annoyed at his superior attitude. “What is wrong with you?”

Caleb threw his head back, rubbing his hands over his face before he stalked a few steps away from her.
 

Ava watched him warily. “Caleb?”

He looked back over his shoulder, but didn’t meet her eyes.

“What is it?” she asked, her irritation vanishing as concern twisted in her stomach. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head slightly, as if to clear it, and turned to walk back to her. He reached out to touch her cheek gently. “I’m sorry. I . . . I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Ava took a step closer, sliding her hands under his coat and gripping his shirt as her anger evaporated. “Maybe we should head back? So you can get some rest?” She hoped he’d argue the point, but Caleb only nodded sadly.

“Yeah . . . yeah.” He pulled her close and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ll take you home.”

Ava clung to him as he shifted them back to campus, held his hand as he walked her back to her dorm, and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling that something was very, very wrong.