Authors: T.M. Franklin
“They always do,” Bel said quietly. “You said you needed my help?”
Caleb rubbed his forehead slowly. “I kind of . . . took Ava.”
“Took her?”
“From Tiernan.”
“Oh, no.” He could almost picture Maribel shaking her head, her dark curly locks swinging wildly around her face.
“Yeah.”
“The Council won’t take that lightly, Caleb,” she said softly.
“I know. I just . . . I couldn’t let them take her,” he replied. “You know what they’ll do if they decide she’s a threat.”
The line was silent for a moment. “That’s never stopped you before.” It had been the only thing they fought about—Caleb determined that the Council, no matter how flawed, was the best hope for their people, Bel arguing that things needed to change; the Law, at least parts of it, was archaic, even barbaric.
“Can you help me, Bel?” Caleb said quietly. “Please?”
He heard Bel open a drawer. “Where are you?” she asked finally.
“Motel on Interstate 71. Just outside of Dawson.”
“Okay,” she murmured, the sound of rustling papers carrying over the line. “There’s a safe house in Mead, that’s about fifty miles north. It’s cloaked, so the Council won’t be able to find you. Can you get her there?”
“Yeah. We’ll get there.”
“I’ll text you the address. It’ll be in code. Do you still have the key I gave you?”
Caleb nodded and realized Bel couldn’t see him. “Yes. I have it.”
“Good,” she said firmly. “Keep it on you at all times, and for God’s sake, don’t let Tiernan get his hands on it.”
“I won’t.”
“If you can get her there, we can move her out of the country to a Guardian colony.”
Caleb sighed. Ava was not going to like that.
“Make sure you’re not followed, Caleb,” Bel warned. “I don’t need to tell you what will happen to these people if you lead Tiernan to them.”
“I understand,” Caleb said shakily, clearing his throat. “Thank you, Bel.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said with a laugh. “You still have a long road ahead of you.”
Caleb hung up, sliding the phone in his pocket as he scanned the empty parking lot again, reaching out with his mind as well as his eyes. Seeing nothing, he let the curtain fall back into place, staring blankly ahead, his thoughts muddled and confused.
Maribel was right. This open rebellion—because Caleb bore no illusions that it wasn’t exactly that—went against everything he’d always stood for. He’d turned a corner and to be perfectly honest, he still wasn’t exactly sure why. He still believed in the Law and, at least in its purest form, the mission of the Council. He believed in the structure, the order, the strict adherence to rules of conduct. But perhaps . . . perhaps it was a bit
too
strict, as Bel always said. Maybe things did need to change. Caleb had always seen the alternative as a kind of horrified chaos, ruled by the anarchy of the Rogues—or someone like them—but he was beginning to wonder if there might be a middle ground where both the Race and the humans were protected.
And people like Ava could be safe.
At the thought of Ava, he crossed the room, walking quietly to the side of the bed. Ava hadn’t moved, so deep in sleep, thanks to her exhaustion, as well as a little help from Caleb. Her brow creased and her eyes flickered behind her lids, making Caleb frown.
She shouldn’t be dreaming.
He reached out, touching her forehead softly with his palm and sending another slight push her way. Ava’s face relaxed, her breathing deepening a little, and Caleb tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his head tilted to the side as he watched her, satisfied.
This was the easy part
, he thought. Once she woke up, Ava was going to want some answers, and he’d promised he’d give them.
But how do you tell someone their life, as they know it, is over?
Caleb sighed and moved back over to the window, pulling back the curtain and staring out into the night.
Chapter 8
Ava woke slowly, her body feeling thick and heavy as she drifted back to consciousness. It took a moment for her to recognize her surroundings. Actually, she didn’t really
recognize
her surroundings at all, but when she spotted Caleb slumped in a chair near the window, asleep with his head leaned against the glass, they at least made a bit more sense.
She stretched, feeling surprisingly refreshed after her exhaustion of the night before. Fuzzy memories of being carried into the room and put in bed flitted through her mind, bringing with them the tug of something forgotten. Caleb stirred, shifting slightly, but his breathing remained deep and steady, and Ava took a moment to look at him a bit closer.
He seemed different. Taller . . . broader, even, his skin a deeper hue and almost glowing with vitality. His lashes fluttered on his cheeks, long and thick, and Ava realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses. After a moment, they opened slowly, as if he could feel her watching him, his gaze unfocused for a moment until it locked with hers. She stared at him, strangely compelled and unable to look away.
“I’ve got you.”
Last night. But not only last night.
“I’ve got you.”
The first time she was attacked, when a dark figure interceded, someone she
thought
she knew.
“I’ve got you.”
“It was you,” Ava breathed finally. “That night. You saved me. You carried me home.”
Caleb blinked, but didn’t look away. “Yes.”
Then, just like the day when she’d found her pepper spray, the images came flooding back in a rush, stealing her breath with their intensity.
Caleb shielding her with his body as he tried to protect her from Tiernan. Whirling images as they moved faster than was possible—somehow from the tree to the wall, in the blink of an eye.
Caleb rushing her into the dorm to keep her away from the police.
Finally, the memory that had been the most elusive—lying on the ground, bleeding and dizzy, only to be swept up into Caleb’s arms.
Caleb carrying her home. Keeping her safe.
“I’ve got you.”
Ava’s fingers gripped the blankets, white-knuckled with tension, the memories overwhelming as they flashed before her eyes, faster and faster. She struggled to make sense of them, slipping them into some sort of order like frames in a flip-book until they formed a complete picture. Once they each slotted into place in her memory, she could breathe again—in and out—the gentle rhythm bringing her back to the present time and place.
Caleb watched her patiently, waiting.
“Why didn’t I know?” she asked. “Why did you lie to me?”
He sighed, turning away finally to look out the window. “I was trying to protect you. The less you know about me . . . about all of this, the better.”
“I . . . I saw you,” Ava said slowly, her eyes narrowing as a faded memory sharpened, grew clearer. “I saw you, but somehow, I forgot.” She looked back at him in confusion. “How? Did you . . . ?”
“I blurred your memories,” he said. “It’s not that difficult, but more so with you, for some reason. You remembered more than you should have.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It should have seemed like a dream,” he replied. “But your mind seems to be a little stronger than I anticipated.”
“Oh, that clears it up wonderfully,” Ava said, throwing up her hands in irritation as she sat up and swept her hair back. “Can you please stop talking in riddles and tell me what the Hell. Is. Going. On?” She punctuated each word with a pound of her fist on the mattress, and Caleb took in her tantrum with a smirk that appeared more than a little amused. “Caleb,” she said slowly, the warning clear. He held up his hands defensively, and at the loud growl of Ava’s stomach, the smirk returned. She flopped back down on the bed in frustration.
“Tell you what,” Caleb said finally. “Let me go over to the diner and get us something to eat. You can wash up or whatever. There’s a new toothbrush and some soap and stuff in the bathroom.” At her questioning glance, he explained. “I stopped on the way, but you were too out of it to notice.”
She turned to face the ceiling again. “Thanks.”
Caleb stood up, running a hand through his hair before picking up his glasses and sliding them back on. “When I get back, we’ll talk. I promise,” he said quietly. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
Ava decided not to point out he said
need
and not
want
. Not that she was going to let that stop her.
Caleb walked into the bathroom, and the water ran briefly before he left the room, sparing only a quick glance her way before locking the door behind him.
Ava lay there for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts, and when that failed, she got up and made her way into the bathroom. As promised, Caleb had set out a new toothbrush and toothpaste for her, as well as a T-shirt and some new underwear and socks. She blushed slightly at the thought of him running into Walmart or somewhere to buy her panties, but didn’t waste too much time on embarrassment, instead taking a quick shower and brushing her teeth thoroughly. Her eyes felt gritty after sleeping in her contacts and she popped them out, glad to find a bottle of solution in amongst Caleb’s other purchases. She rinsed them quickly before re-inserting them, staring at herself in the mirror for a moment.
What had she gotten herself into? Her reflection blinked back innocently, obviously unable to answer. She sighed and brushed her still-damp hair up into a ponytail.
By the time she walked out of the bathroom, Caleb was sitting at the little table by the window, two steaming cups and two Styrofoam containers before him.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like,” he said. “So I got a couple of breakfast sandwiches. I figured you could pick off whatever you don’t—” He stopped, fingers raking through his hair nervously.
“Thanks,” Ava said, crossing to the table and sitting down across from him. She opened one of the containers, and took a big bite of the egg and bacon sandwich inside. “This is great. I’m starving, actually.”
They ate in silence for a moment, Ava’s curiosity taking a backseat to her hunger. Once she was done with the sandwich, though, she took a sip of her coffee—pale and sweet, just as she liked it—and sat back to stare at Caleb expectantly.
He sighed. “They didn’t have anything but real sugar—”
“Caleb,” she said, fighting to keep her voice calm. “I don’t want to talk about my coffee.”
He stirred his own coffee absently, sparing her a glance. “Okay, then. What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with how you could do what you did to me. Blurring my memories, I think you said?”
“I have certain abilities.”
“What, like you’re psychic?”
“Not . . . psychic, really.”
Ava’s eyes narrowed, her patience wearing thin. “Okay, how about this: Who was the man who came after me?”
Caleb seemed a little more comfortable on this topic. “His name is Tiernan Ross. The woman you saw was his sister Katherine. They often work together. I don’t think Tiernan would have actually hurt you, if it makes you feel any better. His job was to take you in.”
“That’s what he said,” Ava replied, blowing on her coffee before taking another sip. “He said I had to have some kind of testing.”
“Yes.” Caleb nodded. “That was the plan.”
“Caleb, you’re not telling me anything,” she said, sitting back, her coffee forgotten. “I don’t understand any of this. You need to give me something, or I swear to God I’m walking out that door and taking a cab to the nearest police station.”
Caleb took a deep breath, worrying his lip between his teeth for a moment, his eyes drifting away, unfocused. “We’re called the First Race,” he said finally. “An ancient people who live in the shadows of your world. We’re much like you, really. Enough so that we can walk about unnoticed for the most part—at least those of us who are a little less extraordinary.” He shrugged noncommittally.
“I don’t understand,” she said. “Are you saying you’re . . . that you’re not . . . human?” After a beat of silence, she laughed. “Yeah, right. So you’re an alien? A vampire? Get real, Caleb. I’m not an idiot.”
He looked at her steadily, eyes darker than usual behind his glasses.
Ava swallowed thickly, unable to look away.
“You’ve heard the myths,” he said to the tabletop where his fingertip drew absent designs. “The Titans, the Nephilim . . . larger-than-life heroes and villains who fill up your history books. Mythology that’s not so much mythology, if the truth were to be known. We are part of that myth . . . the fairy tales come to life, so to speak.”
“That’s . . .” Ava sputtered. “That’s just . . .” Ava’s head spun as she tried to disbelieve, tried to write off what he was saying as ridiculous, a ploy to distract her from her present troubles. But she found she couldn’t. As incredible as it sounded, she knew—deep down—that Caleb was telling her the truth. “So . . .” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, took a sip of her drink. “You’re some kind of . . . gods?”
Caleb chuckled. “Hardly,” he said, shaking his head then running a hand through his hair, damp from the drizzle outside. “We’re really not that different from you. Our scientists have studied our DNA, compared the two races extensively, and we’re really more alike than different. There are just a few genetic quirks that set us apart from ordinary humans.”