The MORE Trilogy (82 page)

“They got the boy.”

Elias pursed his lips, nodding. “Not entirely unexpected.” He couldn’t resist chastising the man to keep him in place, however. “Losing your touch, Sloan?”

Bartok squared his shoulders. “No, sir. I’ll—”

“You’ll do what I say and no more.” Borré got to his feet and gathered the documents on the table. “I’ve received word that the Guardians are on the move.”

Sloan frowned. “But we’ve known that for some time. We’ve had people monitoring the Colony.”

“I don’t mean them,” Elias snapped. “The refugees are not important. I mean Gideon. I mean my
children.
”

“Oh. Yes. Of course, sir.”

“They’ve been given sanctuary, however temporary, in New Elysia. I expect they’ll leave the Colony tomorrow, the day after at the latest.”

“They don’t dare wait any longer.”

“No. No, Gideon will want to move quickly.” Elias slid the papers into a folder and tapped it against the table to get the edges straight.

Neat, orderly . . . everything in its place
.

“Ava is to go with the contingent to meet with the Council, but the other two are not expected in New Elysia. I suspect Gideon wants to keep them somewhere safe.”

“There are half a dozen Guardian safe houses within a day of New Elysia.”

“Pick the one nearest the city,” Elias said, circling the table to perch on the edge. “He’ll want to have Sophie and Isaiah close. I suspect Tyra will be the one to accompany them. He won’t leave it to one of his lesser soldiers.”

Sloan opened his mouth, and Elias could tell the man wanted to offer a plan of attack. Instead, however, he simply stood even taller and asked, “What are my orders?”

Elias smiled.

Ahh, he’s learning
.

“Ava will have to wait, for now. As for the other two, when the opportunity presents itself, I expect you to retrieve what’s mine.”

Sloan nodded, head bowed under Borré’s glittering gaze. “Yes, sir.”

He left the room and Elias took a moment to breathe, relishing the idea that it was all coming together as he’d planned. Sure, there’d been challenges along the way—and he knew there would continue to be—but in the end, he’d adapt. He’d survive.

He’d win.

Early the next morning, Sophie and Isaiah headed south, following Tyra’s booted footsteps down the muddy trail. The trees dripped a quiet pitter-patter that splashed up rich and earthy scents around them as they dodged puddles and climbed over tangled roots.

Sophie held her brother’s hand tightly and adjusted the bag on her shoulder as she eyed the little group around her nervously. She’d been glad when Gideon told her he hadn’t expected the two of them to go to New Elysia —a city of super men, thank you very much—and instead would go with some of the other refugees to a safe house near Kalispell.

Safe house
. She liked the sound of that.

So it was the two of them, along with a half dozen of what Sophie had dubbed “ordinary people.” Although, the schoolteacher trudging along slightly ahead of her was able to make things grow, as the trail of little pink flowers popping up in her wake attested. So ordinary was relative, but it separated those people from the six Guardian soldiers who stomped in formation around the group carrying weapons and an aura of danger. Tyra walked point, and someone named Adam brought up the rear. Sophie hadn’t discovered what his gift was, but like the others, the guy kept his gaze constantly on the move, always alert for any sign of danger.

Isaiah rubbed absently at his arm.

The spot where they’d drawn several vials of blood the night before had already healed, but Sophie knew he was thinking about what they’d learned. No one had really been surprised about the DNA testing. It was one of the reasons that Sophie had eventually relented and let them conduct it. Isaiah was her brother. She’d never had any doubt, and apparently, like Ava and herself—she was still having trouble wrapping her head around all
that
—he was also one of the Twelve.

“You okay?” she asked in a quiet voice.

He shook his head. “Just thinking. About everything, you know? It’s . . . weird.”

Sophie laughed. “Which part?”

“All of it. Having another sister—
sisters
—not to mention brothers, and all these people with powers?” He waved a hand to encompass the entire group moving through the forest. “It’s like a comic book or something.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean.”

“And you.” Isaiah looked up at her, his gold and brown gaze the same but opposite of Sophie’s. And Ava’s. “What you can do. It’s pretty cool, actually.” He frowned. “You think I can do the same thing?” He turned to face forward, brow creased in concentration, and Sophie suspected he was trying.

“I don’t know,” she said, squeezing his hand. “They say everyone’s different. You might be able to do something even cooler.”

Isaiah grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Cooler. Heh.”

Sophie rolled her own eyes. “You know what I mean.”

“Maybe when they figure out how to lift this block.” He tapped at his temple and Sophie’s stomach sank.

After what Ava had told her was happening to her—a side effect of lifting the block—she wasn’t sure she wanted it for herself, let alone her little brother. She couldn’t stand to see him in pain.

“I’ll be fine,” he said.

Sophie started. “What?”

He blinked, his pupils dilating but quickly shrinking back to normal. “You said you didn’t want me to be in pain.”

“I didn’t actually say that.”

“But I heard you—”

“I . . .” She swallowed. “I didn’t say it out loud, b-but I
thought
it.” She looked up at her brother.

When did he get so much taller than me?

“Try it again,” he said.

“Try what? Thinking something? I never stopped.”

“Think something specific,” he said, yanking on her arm. “Think something
at
me.”

“How in the world do you think something
at
someone?”

“Sophie!” He pulled her to a stop, only to start walking again when one of the Guardian soldiers looked at him with a scowl. He lowered his voice. “Just try, okay?”

She sighed, a mixture of fear and excitement racing through her. “Okay. What sho—”

“Anything,” he hissed. “Just think something over and over, and I’ll try to guess what it is. Maybe a number?”

Pfft! Too easy
.

She tried to come up with something even better but got distracted by the pink flowers blooming behind the teacher’s shoes. She wondered if they grew naturally in the area or if they were something unique, created by the woman’s power.

The color’s so bright. Almost Pepto-Bismol or Barbie Dream Hou—

“Pink,” Isaiah said firmly.

Sophie gasped. “I wasn’t ready!”

Isaiah laughed. “I was right, wasn’t I? I couldn’t make out specific words—not like before—but I could hear ‘pink.’ Or maybe see it? Feel it? I don’t know. I just knew it was pink.”

Sophie forced a grin through her trepidation.

This is real
.

Isaiah, apparently, had a gift as well, which meant he really was one of the Twelve.

Which means . . .

She didn’t like to think about what it meant, so instead, she bumped his shoulder with her own and whispered, “Let’s try again.”

By the time they made it to the SUVs concealed in the metal garage off a dirt road leading to the Trans-Canada highway, Isaiah could pick individual words or numbers out of Sophie’s head with little or no effort. Complex thoughts were a little more difficult, although it seemed as if he could also sense emotions to a certain extent. It only worked one way, though. He tried to push words into Sophie’s head, and at one point even tried to get Tyra to scratch her nose, but to no avail.

It reminded Sophie of when they were kids sharing secrets—the two of them against the world.

They’d been on the road for about six hours when Isaiah nudged Sophie out of a near-doze against the window.

She cast him a questioning glance, and he nodded toward Tyra, who was in the front passenger seat, talking quietly on her cell. Isaiah opened his mouth, but something made Sophie hold a finger to her lips. She rummaged in her bag for a small notebook and pen and held them out to him.

He tilted his head and stared at the back of Tyra’s head, his eyes narrowing in concentration. After a brief moment, he scribbled in the book and turned it so Sophie could read it.

Something’s wrong. She thinks we’re being followed.

Sophie started to take the pen, but Isaiah apparently knew what she was going to ask.

Not sure who. Tyra thinks Rogues? Council?
He paused then added,
She’s worried.

Sophie didn’t know Gideon’s second-in-command that well, but she knew enough to know the woman didn’t get worried, at least not easily. She took the notebook and tucked it back into her backpack, glancing over her shoulder out the back window of the SUV. She saw the second car close behind them and a third in the distance, but nobody beyond that. A shiver of unease settled between her shoulders. Not fear, at least not for herself. Her little brother, though . . .

“Are you okay?” Isaiah whispered.

Sophie nodded and took his hand. “Don’t worry. Everything will be fine.” She fought to believe it herself, but as she snuck another look out the back of the car, she knew she’d do whatever it took to protect Isaiah.

Ava had said that others would want her, would want Isaiah. Whether it was the Rogues or the Council, it didn’t matter. Sophie knew that if there was someone following them, and that someone was after Isaiah, they’d have to get through her first.

And something Sophie was quickly learning was how to put up a good fight.

“Five minutes and I’ll be good,” Caleb said, collapsing on a fallen log to catch his breath. “Maybe ten.”

They’d been shifting all morning, taking short breaks in between for Caleb to chew on R-cubes and regain his energy. Gideon and Tiernan opted for a helicopter out of Winnipeg, but Caleb preferred not to fly unless absolutely necessary, so shifting it was.

Ava was enjoying having Caleb to herself for a while, and if she got to spend most of that time in his arms, well, all the better.