The MORE Trilogy (71 page)

“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.”

“I know, Father.” She closed her eyes as his palms pressed against her hair. The dull throb of a headache began behind her eyes, radiating outward and growing in intensity.

“I love you, Emma.”

“I love you, too, Father,” she whispered before the pain stabbed through her and forced a scream from her lips.
 

Eventually, she blacked out, awakening some time later curled up on the carpet with dried blood on her mouth and the last remnants of the headache fading away.

Her father sat at the piano playing Beethoven—or maybe it was Bach—and humming along with the melody.

Caleb tracked Ava down at the park in the center of the Guardian living quarters. She sat on a bench, watching a group of children on the swings, a soft smile on her face as she toyed with her necklace. He sat down next her, pulling her hand into his lap and interlacing their fingers before placing a soft kiss to the tip of her thumb. His gift settled with her near, and he wondered how he’d survived such a long separation.

“How’d it go?” she asked.
 

Caleb had been talking strategy with Gideon, Tiernan, and Tyra. He’d been surprised when Ava had opted out, saying she needed some time to herself. She’d never been one to sit back and let others make decisions, but she’d been through a lot.

“Fine,” he said. “I think we actually have a plan. Which is saying something, considering the personalities involved.”

She smirked. “Meaning you’re all stubborn as mules.”

“Hey!” He laughed. “Takes one to know one.”

She shrugged but didn’t deny it. “Are they going to relocate the Colony?”

Caleb frowned. He and his father hadn’t seen eye to eye on that one. “Gideon doesn’t think it’s necessary, at least not yet. He’ll leave Tyra and a contingent here to guard the civilians when we go to New Elysia. He seems to think once we form an alliance the Colony will be welcome there.”

“You don’t agree?”

“I think he’s putting a lot of faith in the Council. I’m just not certain it’s warranted.” He waved a hand toward the children. “I also don’t like leaving innocent people here when the Rogues know where they are.”

“I don’t think the Colony is in danger,” Ava said quietly. “The Council is their target. If anything, they’d want the Guardians on their side.”

“So you think they’ll be back, just not to attack?”

“Eventually,” she said. “But I’m thinking they’ll need some time to regroup. I don’t think Emma expected to be going back empty-handed.” They sat in comfortable silence for a while, and Ava drew in a heavy breath. “I’ve been thinking
 . . .
”
 

“Always a dangerous proposition.” She elbowed him, but her smile grew, which was his intention in the first place, so he took it as a little victory.

“I was thinking,” she said with a mock glare. “About this testing Gideon wants to do.”

“Yeah,” Caleb said slowly.

“I’ll do whatever he thinks is necessary. I trust him, you know.” She glanced at Caleb as if expecting him to argue the point, but he didn’t. “But if they don’t figure it out—”

“They’ll figure it out,” he said quickly. “If not Gideon, then the Council doctors—”

She held up a hand. “If they don’t. If they
can’t.
And if it comes down to it, and the Rogues attack
 . . .
”

Caleb didn’t like the way this conversation was heading. “Ava—”

“I want to fight,” she said firmly. “Especially after what Emma did—” She shook her head as if to eliminate the memory. “If they take control, they’ll do it to others. It’s not right, Caleb.”

“I know, but—”

“There’s no ‘but,’ ” she said. “If it comes down to it, I’ll use what I have to stop them. And I’m asking you not to try and stop
me
.”