The Honor Trilogy: Books One, Two, and Three of the Honor Trilogy (12 page)

Lunch period the next day is interesting. Shelby walks in the cafeteria with her clique. As expected, energy is high. With Jefferson High School’s most popular cheerleader returned and in good health, the cheers and well-wishes are loud and spirited. Shelby looks genuinely touched. What’s interesting is - after Shelby gets her lunch, she carries her lunch tray to
my
table and sits down. The dropped jaws and surprised expressions are comical. When Shelby’s one sidekick finally closes her mouth, what comes out is an expletive towards me.

“Honor’s my friend now. If you don’t like it, leave.” Shelby tells her entourage.

“Uggh,” says cheerleader number two. Shelby is, of course, number one. “What happened to you, Shelby? You hated that freak.”

“No…I didn’t. I just never
knew
her.
I
was the freak.”

“Oh
gimme a break.” Number two laughs. “This is a joke, right? You’re going to dump her food all over her lap or something I bet.”

“No.” There is no expression on Shelby’s face. “I’m not.” Shelby picks up her fork, turns to me and smiles. “Hey, Honor.”

“Hey, Shelby.”

Number two and the gang let out an audible “
hmmph” and walk away…to eat their lunch…without their leader.

Fiddling with the food on my tray, I try to think of something to talk about with Shelby – small talk, girl talk, anything. But being I’m not the most socially-forward teenager, I fall short on coming up with any topics at all. Though Shelby is the number one popular girl in school, and therefore socially adept, the fact that she’s poking at her mashed potatoes makes me wonder if maybe we aren’t really meant to be close friends and lunch buddies. I mean, I appreciate the effort she’s making, but she belongs with her own friends – as inconsiderate as they are. Maybe the new Shelby can lead her old friends on the road to kindness and compassion.

There’s no time like the present for being straight-forward.

“Shelby,” I begin, startling my tiny friend. “You know…you don’t have to sit with me, and you don’t have to alienate your friends to be nice to me.”

Casting her eyes downward, Shelby looks embarrassed.

“Shelby, they’re your friends. It’s okay.”

“Yeah, but…I’m sorry the way they talked before. I started their…dislike towards you. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe the kind of person I am.” Shelby’s eyes glisten and fill with tears.

Not knowing what to say, I feel ashamed, and I know those are not my emotions. They’re hers. “Shelby, you’re a good person.” If she’s feeling shame, she must have a compassionate heart. “You were angry before. You had all this pain, the knowledge that you were going to die. It’s hard to be kind when you’re going through that.”

Chuckling beneath her frown, Shelby shakes her head. “What was my excuse
before
I had cancer?”

My hand naturally drifts over her tiny one, which is now skimming the edge of her tray. It is an inherent reaction of mine to touch a person who is hurting. The realization as to why has just sunk in. My natural inclination, now that I know what I am capable of, is to take away her hurt, but I don’t concentrate on that. My intention now is to show her kindness and compassion…so that she may learn to do the same.

“Shelby, don’t define yourself by your past behavior.” Her tiny hand quivers a bit beneath mine. “Now that you know better, be the person you want to be
now
.”

She takes her free hand and rubs her eye. I feel her other hand reposition under my hand. She squeezes it. “Thank you, Honor. You’re a good person.”

“You’re welcome.”

The atmosphere between us becomes strained again, but fortunately, or maybe unfortunately – I haven’t made up my mind on that yet – Storm sits on the bench along side of me and erases any awkwardness between Shelby and me. Of course Storm brings along his own thorny climates.

“Ladies.” Storm so arrogantly takes my fork and helps himself to my mashed potatoes.

“Excuse me,” I say, my eyes darting from him to my food.

Dropping the fork back on my tray, the corners of Storm’s face curl up in one of his evil – or charming, I haven’t decided that either – grins. “Sorry, princess, didn’t mean to touch your food.”

I shake my head in exasperation. I’m still not sure what to make of Storm and it frustrates me. But when I look at him, I see a not-so confident boy beneath his cool-as-a-cucumber façade.

“But seriously, Honor…I need a few moments of your time.” He’s staring directly at me. I feel him, even though I am looking down at my tray. “Can you take a walk with me?”

“No…she can’t.” Ethan’s voice from behind startles all three of us.

“Hey there, little brother.” Storm plays it cool with his greeting. “You’re looking rather joyful today,” he mocks, clearly reading the total lack of joy on Ethan’s face.

Ethan ignores him. “Honor.” He motions to the three inch space between Storm’s knees, as he’s straddled on the bench, and my legs, as I sit correctly at the lunch table.

I move as close to Shelby as I can to let him in, but Ethan doesn’t need to squeeze next to me. Storm gets the hint and gets up.

“I know when I’m not wanted.” He laughs, then taps me on top of the head. “Remember, Honor,” he says much too loudly as he walks away.

“What? What’re you supposed to remember?” Ethan interrogates.

Quietly I tell him that Storm needs to tell me something.

Ethan rolls his eyes. “Geez, Honor. I wish he’d stay away from you. Why can’t he just confront me?”

“I have no idea.” My phone buzzes in my purse. It’s a text…from Storm. How he got my number, I have no idea. Wondering why it should surprise me, I chuckle. He did steal our identification without our knowledge, after all.

“What’s so funny?” Shelby and Ethan ask at the same time.

Still looking at my phone, trying to delete the message, I say, “My mom. Her attempt at a joke.” I lie.

Luckily Ethan isn’t too concerned about mom and her joke; he’s still brooding over Storm.

“Listen, Ethan.” I try to talk some sense into him. “You said yourself that you’d give Storm a chance…”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, ready to bite my head off. “That was before he stole our stuff and ran away with it.”

“Well,” I muster as calmly as I can. “Maybe if I see what he has to say, I can find out what he’s up to.”

“No. You are not to see him. If he’s involved with those people, he can be dangerous. What if he kidnaps you or something?”

“On school property?” I laugh. “I don’t think so. Really, Ethan, think about it. Besides, I don’t think he’s a threat…not to me, anyway.”

Ethan grunts just as the bell rings. “C’mon, I’ll walk ya to class.”

“Oh don’t worry about it. I need to go to my locker first. I forgot my notes.” I lie. I don’t want to tell Ethan, but Storm’s text said to skip my next class and meet him in his car in the parking lot. It read,
yes, it’s that important
. Cutting classes is not my thing, but I’m pretty sure Storm’s right when he says it’s important.

Ethan lifts his right brow, “Okay, Honor. See you after school.” He pats me on the butt and kisses me quick on the lips.

I walk in the direction of my locker then take the back door out of the school. My brow is sweating, my stomach churning. Breaking the rules intimidates me. I fear authority and despise anarchy. Bile rises up in my throat as I try to nonchalantly search for Storm’s bright orange Charger. Like someone is
not
going to see us in that car.

Storm is parked behind a tree and a side wall that separates two lots.
Convenient,
I think. I’m not sure if he had planned it that way, but knowing Storm, he did. Maybe he parks there every day. Maybe he cuts class every day and sits in his car. Who knows? Storm is a challenging guy to figure out.

The window on the passenger side of his car slides open. “Get in, princess.”

Rolling my eyes, I open the door and get in. “So…what’s so important you have me cutting class?”

Storm laughs. “I thought you’d be happy to be pulled out. No?”

“No. Now what’s this about?”

All at once, Storm’s devilish grin is gone, replaced by one of Ethan’s stone-cold expressions – eyes narrowed, lips pierced, nostrils tight. And now I see the brotherly resemblance between him and Ethan.

I narrow my own eyes. “What is it?” I ask, wondering if I really want to know the answer.

“Remember I said
they
were after us? You said you didn’t believe me, but…I know you really did.”

My mouth opens to object, but he puts his finger over my lips. “Let me talk, Honor.”

He waits…making sure I’m really listening.

“Your grandfather. He left you something.”

“Yes, Ethan told me…”

This time four of his fingers cover my mouth. “Shush. Let me finish.”

“Sorry,” I mumble through his fingers.

“Your great-great-times-something grandfather left you something very valuable. I hadn’t known this before. I found out on my little trip to throw you and Ethan off their track.”

I open my eyes wide, as well as my mouth, but I quickly shut it when Storm runs his finger across his own neck, begging me to stop talking before I start.

“Your great-great…you get it…grandfather was a scientist. A self-proclaimed alchemist, if you will. I’m not sure how long he’d been alive, but along the way he found ways to…lengthen…a person’s life. He found it through empaths’ blood. I don’t know too many particulars. Asking too many questions would have made them suspicious of me, and I did
not
want that. But this
elixir
he made can turn someone into an empath…plus make him immortal.”

“What? Who are
they
?”

“Oh, Honor, will you just let me…”

“Finish, I know. Sorry, go on.”

“They are a group of men who follow some man called
The Gaffer
. He’s about as old as your dear-old gramps would be...roaming this world for centuries. I hear they were friends, but then your dear-old grammpie ran off…
with
the elixir…that they
both
had developed. This elixir…this liquid highway to immortality…it was left to you, Honor.”

I feel the blood drain from my face. My eyes are on top of my forehead, I’m almost sure. Shaking my head and unable to speak, I’m at a loss. I don’t know what to say, what to think. Plus…I have no clue where any sort of elixir is. “I don’t…have…” I stammer.

“You don’t have it.” Storm reinforces. “I didn’t think so. But
they
think you do. And that means you’re in danger.”

“Oh my goodness.” My eyes tear.

“Don’t worry, princess. We have some time. They think you left for Mexico.”

“Mexico?” My voice comes out in a rasp.

“Before I left Nevada, I bought two tickets to Mexico.”

I shake my head.

“Yeah, I’m the one who took your ID. Anyway, I got a one-way ticket to Mexico, figuring that would buy us some time. Then…I used some random guy’s ID and headed back here.”

The corner of Storm’s mouth quirks, almost like a quiver. He’s scared too. My fear or his own, I have no idea. But it really doesn’t matter, does it? Something like an elixir that can grant immortality along with the ability to heal is certainly something to kill for. I swallow hard. If they think
I
have it…and I don’t…what will they do to me to find out where it is?

I tremble…like I’ve never trembled before.

And I cry.

Storm reaches over and pulls me close. His hold is tight, and I feel safe.

Then…I can no longer breathe.

I hit him rapidly on the back, attempting to get him to loosen his grip.

He holds me tighter…his hand pressing hard on my arm – as if he were trying to take away my fear.

But…it’s not working. I’m more than afraid.

I pound ferociously with both my hands.

Pounding.

Pounding.

Pounding.

He pulls away and looks at me with notched brows. “Honor. You’re white as a ghost…and…so…cold.”

A dark cloud envelops me. The size of the car has been reduced to the size of a Dixie cup. I need to get out. Remove myself from Storm immediately. Opening the car door and not bothering to shut it, I run straight for the building, pausing at the top of the stairs. Ethan is standing there with his hands deep in his pockets. A scowl taints his pretty face.

Realizing he saw me with Storm and aware that he is angry, I ignore it and leap into his arms. Like the hot sun that forces its way out after a storm, Ethan wraps his arms around me and takes away the darkness - my sunshine after the thunderstorm that is Storm Sutherland.

I am not quite sure what to make of Storm. He pulls me in. He almost demands it of me without saying a word. Yet…he frightens me now. There is something dark. Almost evil. And I’m not even sure he realizes it.

“Honor.” Ethan says so seriously. “What did he do to you?” His question is asked above my head, his chin resting on it.

“I don’t
wanna talk about it yet.” I mumble into his shirt.

Ethan squeezes me tight, all the while rubbing my back with firm strokes. I know he’s trying to absorb some of my fear, but it’s a pointless endeavor. Ethan will take on my emotions, then I’ll take on his, and like he once told me, it would just be an endless cycle…with benefit to no one.

Glancing up into Ethan’s dark purple eyes, I affirm that I will let him in on Storm’s revelation. Just not at school. “Right now, Ethan, I want to go to the nurse and lie down. Maybe even go home.”

“Okay, I’ll take you.”

I hear the defeat in his tone. It’s killing him to not know what Storm and I were talking about. But I’ve a headache so huge now – a headache resulting from my own turmoil, no one else’s – that closing my eyes and going to sleep is the only thing on my mind.

**

A warm hand on my forehead nudges me awake.

“Honor.” It’s Ethan. “How
ya feelin’?

I sit up to determine what I’m feeling before I answer. “Better.”

“So…ya gonna tell me?” Ethan asks, sitting down across from me on my bed.

The knot of worry in my stomach reaches my throat. Ethan must sense it, because he comments. “That bad, huh?”

“Oh, Eeth, they’re after me.”

“What? Who?”

“Those people. That Gaffer guy.”

Steam comes out of Ethan’s ears. Of course not literally, but his narrowed eyes, his deep purple irises, and his pursed lips indicate a severe agitation.

But I continue. “Apparently, my great, great, great something or other grandfather had developed an elixir that can make a person an empath…and immortal.”

“What? Storm told you that shit?”

“Ethan…I’m pretty sure he was serious. You said yourself…my great times something grandfather was a scientist. Storm said he thought himself more of an alchemist than a scientist. He’d taken the blood of some…empaths…and I guess combined it with something to make the elixir.”

“Crap.” Ethan squeezes the bridge of his nose.

“Ethan. I’m scared. What’re we gonna do?” My bottom lip quivers, but I want to be strong and not cry. Being strong is not one of my strengths.

Tears fall from my eyes, and Ethan moves closer, pulling me into his arms. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. But I think it’s time I talk to Storm.”

My head snaps back so I can look at him. “What’re you gonna say?” I wonder if he’s going to start a fight or something with Storm.

“I don’t know…but we need to get to the bottom of this. I’ll have Uncle Tom and Hunter come with me. They need to know what’s going on.” Ethan squeezes me and kisses me lightly on the head. “I need to go, Honor.”

“Right now? Can’t I come?”

Ethan utters a low growl. “Honor, I don’t want you getting involved.”

“Involved? I’m the whole reason we’re in trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah. I
mean
…I’d like to keep you safe.”

I jump off the bed, stomp my foot, and, hands on my hips, say, “Well, I don’t
wanna be safe if it means sitting here playing with my thumbs while you go searching for some murderer.”

Ethan moves to the edge of the bed in front of me. Staying seated, he reaches for both my hands. “
C’mere, Honor.”

My hands stay where they are – on my hips. “No, because I won’t let you change my mind.”

Ethan’s tongue clicks in his mouth when he inhales. Sighing as he exhales, he relents, “Fine. Come with me.” He stands up and hugs me again. “I just don’t want you getting hurt…I love you too much.”

**

Before searching for Storm, Ethan and I stop off at Ethan’s apartment to see Hunter and their Uncle Tom. Parked outside the apartment, however, a bright orange Challenger mocks my boyfriend.

“Dammit.” Ethan grumbles under his breath.

Placing my hand on his forearm, I make an effort to transfer Ethan’s hostility from him to me. The abrupt snatching back of his arm backfires when his hand slams against the steering wheel. “Fu..mmm,” he snaps, successfully stopping himself from cursing by pursing his lips. “
Don’t
try to take away my emotions, Honor. I
hate
when you do that.”

Ethan’s mad that Storm beat him to his brother’s, I get that, but
hate
is such a strong word. It upsets me that he used it towards me. Yelling and stuff is not something I’m used to, since I’ve never had any real friends before this year. But I’m inclined to snap back at him. Instead, the dashboard serves as my focus while my mood simmers.

“Listen, Honor.” Ethan strokes my hair. “I’m sorry. I’m taking my anger out on the wrong person. Please don’t be mad.”

I let him apologize and drop it for now. We have much more important things to take care of than worrying over the way Ethan just talked to me. Helping me out of the car by taking my hand, Ethan and I walk quite briskly up the apartment stairs – the apartment being a one bedroom suite on top of a yoga studio, the stairs run up the outside of the building.

Flinging open the door and slamming it against whatever stands perpendicular to it, Ethan barrels in, still attached to my hand. “Get the hell out of my house,” he demands in a voice so loud it stuns me.

“Hey there, little bro,” Storm’s derisive sneer infuriates Ethan even more. I see it in his deep purple eyes, rigid jaw, and clenched fists. The bones in my fingers crack and hurt when Ethan clutches my hand in a death grip because he’s so incensed.

“
You
are
not
my brother.” My hand and its crackling knuckles are set free. Ethan’s hands have other things to do – like grab Storm in a chokehold to threaten an explanation out of him. “What the hell do you have to do with my brother’s murder…and the rest of this effin’ bullshit I’m hearing about?”

Storm pushes Ethan away like he’s brushing a fly from his face. Storm’s strength still impresses me. But I feel bad for Ethan. He wants so inherently to protect me. Protection from Storm is not what I need, though. I’m sure of that. Ethan needs to get over these issues he has with his half-brother and get to the bottom of whoever is after us…whoever is after me.

Stumbling into the countertop, Ethan closes his eyes, gathering composure and strength.

“
Yo, bro,” Storm snarls. “I have nothing to do with the murder
or
your effin’ bullshit,” he mocks. “But you better sit down and listen to me if you know what’s good for ya.”

With both his hands clenched tight in front of him, Ethan leaps for Storm, but his half-brother’s brute strength allows him to hold up one arm in defense and stop Ethan’s punch.

“Yo, Ethan,” Uncle Tom breaks in, jumping in between the estranged brothers. “Just stop. Storm isn’t involved…but he does know something about it.”

Ethan throws his elbow out wide to push his uncle away and storms away.

Uncle Tom follows Ethan to the living room couch. Ethan reluctantly sits on its edge.

“Ethan.” Uncle Tom sighs and then looks at me. “You’re Honor?” He holds out his hand. “”I’m Tom. Uncle Tom.”

“Nice to meet you…Uncle Tom.” I say, a little embarrassed to use such a familiar term with someone I just met.

“Hi, Honor. It’s good to see you again.” Hunter chimes in and shakes my hand also.

“Okay, now that we have the pleasantries done with, can we explain to my moron little brother what’s going on?” Storm offers, digging the knife a little deeper into Ethan’s psyche.

A sharp pang strikes my chest when I approach Ethan, whose eyes are closed again. Brushing off Storm’s caustic remarks demands a concentrated effort on Ethan’s part. It’s killing him to do so – I’m feeling his residual pain deep in my own chest. I know it is important to Ethan for me to keep from taking away his pain, but I love him so much. I cannot help but want his heartache to disappear. Rubbing his back will not whisk away his pain, but I’m sure it will ease some of his tension…while hopefully avoiding a reprimand from him for doing so.

It must be working, because his breathing returns to normal.

“
Eeth,” Hunter informs. “Storm says he knows what that Gaffer guy and his men want.”

Ethan casts a quick glance in my direction before turning to Storm. “Yeah. Tell me, Storm. What is it that you know?” He scoffs. “And tell me…exactly
how
do you know what you know… if you’re not involved.”

“Some things, dear brother, I keep to myself.” I know Storm is doing this just to goad Ethan, and it’s getting irritating. “But what you
do
need to know is that they’re after your
lovely
over there.” Storm juts his chin in my direction. “Her great granddaddy had some secret empath elixir he made…This elixir can make anyone an empath…and because he’d used the blood of several…how can I say this…murderous empaths, it can also make one immortal. It’s been used before. But from what I hear…dear-old-grandpappy ran away with it…just took it from the one person who helped him create it. The Gaffer. Now he and his men are after it.” Storm smirks at Ethan, but then when he catches my eye, I see a slight frown form on his face. And if I’m not mistaken, I see sadness in his eyes.

But he continues. “They’re not going to quit until they’ve got it in their hands.” Storm looks at me again, frowns, and says, “And they think Honor here has it.”

“How d’ya know this?” Ethan demands to know. Though he’s trying to stay calm, his breathing is quick and his jaw is tight.

“I just do,” Storm says with an arrogant sneer.

“Storm, stop,” I command, getting totally tired of his attitude with Ethan. Everyone in the room turns their wild eyes on me. I ignore them and glare at Storm. “Stop harassing him and just tell us what we need to do. Do we need to run, what?” Clearly, I’m exasperated…and frightened. I can hear the quiver in my voice; I can feel it in my chest.

Storm bites his lip and tilts his head as he looks me in the eyes. His violet eyes turn a light lavender – a color I’ve never seen in his eyes before.

Noticing the look in Storm’s eyes, Ethan extends his arm and wraps it possessively around my waist. “Okay, Storm. I’ll listen.” Ethan resigns. “Who are these people, and how do we stop them?”

I’m just about to snap at Storm, because that obnoxious grin returns to his face. But just as quickly, it disappears. “Well, running’s not going to help. It’ll only prolong the inevitable. What we need to do is
find
the elixir that Honor’s grandfather left her.” Storm looks directly at me. “Honor, did Hanna and Daniel leave you or your parents anything when they gave you away?”

A light bulb flickers on in my head. “An envelope. My mom said they sent her a birth-certificate and some other things in an envelope.” I pause, trying to remember. “She never said what those other things were, but…maybe there’ll be some kind of explanation.”

“Good,” Storm says, and I hear the others murmuring amongst themselves.

“I’ll fly back to Nevada in the morning, find more information out. You guys search the envelope, and for goodness sake, try to find a clue or something.”

“Whoa. Stop right there,” Ethan says. “Why the nice guy act all of a sudden?”

“Ethan,” I snap, annoyed that he’d start this again.

“No, no, pretty lady, it’s okay.” Storm reaches out and runs the back of his fingers down my cheek, sending hot tingles down my neck.

Storm looks at Ethan and further explains. “’Cause then
your
pretty little girlfriend will see
me
as her knight in shining armor.” Storm turns to me and winks. And again, I feel that trickle of warmth slide down my skin.

Rising from the edge of the couch, Ethan leaps toward Storm. Uncle Tom breaks in again, placing his palms on both their chests – like a referee holding back two boxers in the ring. “Guys. Focus. Deal with your personal issues later, when we’ve defeated the Gaffer and his boys.”