The MORE Trilogy (26 page)

“Ava, listen,” Caleb said, standing and taking her hands in his. “I’m with you on this. You know that. I’ll stand by you no matter what.”

Ava smirked. “I sense a ‘but.’ ”

“But.” Caleb flashed her an amused grin, but it fell as he squeezed her hands gently. “I want you to think about what you’ll do if the Council doesn’t come around like you hope. We need to have an exit strategy.”

“You mean an escape plan.”

“Yeah,” Caleb said, rubbing a hand over her cheek tentatively. “If it comes down to it, you have to let me get you out of there.”

She closed her eyes, enjoying the touch more than she cared to admit. “But, we’d be running for the rest of our lives.”

“Better than the alternative.”

Ava took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. “If it comes down to it, but it’s only a last resort. I know I can make them understand I’d never hurt the Race.”

Caleb smiled indulgently. “Okay,” he said. “Okay, I’ll figure something out—just in case.” He reached down for his bag, pulling it over his head and securing it across his chest. “You ready to go?”

“You understand, right?” Ava pressed, hitching up her own bag. “I don’t want to be running forever.”

He nudged her shoulder with his. “Not forever,” he said with a grin. “I’m sure they’d back off after a few decades . . . a century at most.”

Ava laughed. “Yeah, well, that’s as good as forever.”

Caleb looked down at her, frowning curiously.

“What?” she asked.

“I thought Audrey told you.”

“Told me what?”

“Uh . . .” Caleb stepped back, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “About the aging thing?”

“What
aging thing
?” Ava glared in irritation. “You guys really need a better system or something. I’m tired of being left out of the loop.” At Caleb’s flush, she repeated, “What. Aging. Thing?”

“That we don’t, really. Well, not as quickly, at least.”

“What?” Ava gaped at him. “What in the world are you talking about? You’re not . . . are you saying you’re immortal?”

“No!” Caleb laughed. “Not immortal. We just have a life span that’s a little longer than ordinary humans.” He looked away, swallowing nervously.

“How much longer?”

“Umm . . . around five times?”

Ava’s eyes widened almost comically. “Five times?” Her mouth opened and closed a few times but no sound came out. “As in . . . like four
hundred
years?”

“Well, for some,” Caleb said uncomfortably. “Most live up to six hundred.”

She gaped at him, a little dizzy at the thought. “But . . . not me, right? I mean, even if I am a Half-Breed . . . I won’t . . . I can’t . . .” Her breaths quickened into harsh pants. It wasn’t that the idea of living longer was a bad thing, necessarily. It was just a lot to take in.

Six. Hundred. Years.

Holy. Crap
.

“Hard to tell,” Caleb said. “The testing might help indicate what you’re looking at. Life-span wise, that is.”

“Oh, man,” Ava muttered. “I don’t feel so good.” She weaved on her feet, and Caleb reached out to hold her up, his arms encircling her tightly.

“Relax,” he said. “It’s not so bad.”

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“Time to go,” he said cheerily. “Hold on tight.”

“Wait a minute,” she ordered. “So, exactly how old are you?”

Caleb flushed. “Uh . . . what is age really? It’s just a number.”

“Caleb . . .” She glared at him.

“I’m . . . uh . . . eighty-three—no—” He thought for a minute. “Eighty-four. Last May.”

“Eighty-four,” Ava repeated, feeling the blood rush from her face.

“Yeah, so . . . we really should go now,” he said, avoiding her gaze.

“We are
so
talking more about this,” she muttered, gripping the back of his coat as she looked up at him accusingly. “Anything else I should know about?”

Caleb shrugged. “Nothing that comes to mind.”

“Right,” she grumbled. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

Caleb laughed. “Hold on,” he said again. “I’m going to try to get us there in one shift. It’ll be a doozy.”

Ava closed her eyes tight and took a deep breath as the now-familiar whirl and spin enveloped them.

Caleb’s knees buckled as solid ground finally materialized underfoot, and Ava’s arms tightened around his waist protectively. She eased him to a cluster of boulders, handing him a few cubes and their last bottle of water before turning to survey their surroundings. She inhaled deeply, the air crisp and clear, the dazzling blue sky overhead interrupted only here and there by a few fluffy clouds. Ava lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the bright sunshine and looked out over a wide valley, a patchwork of varying shades of green muted by a layer of snow.

They were on the side of a mountain—about halfway up, if she estimated correctly, turning to look toward the top. The peak disappeared in a veil of clouds, but Ava could see the outline of snow-covered trees below it and huddled deeper into her coat. It was beautiful, but also cold, and her breath escaped in wispy clouds, a little shallow because of the altitude.

“Where are we?” she murmured.

“Montana.” Caleb’s weak voice trembled slightly, and he popped another cube into his mouth. “About fifty miles from Kalispell.”

“You okay?” she asked.

Caleb nodded, but his pale, greenish complexion said otherwise. “Probably won’t be shifting for a while, though.”

Ava frowned in concern, but continued to look around. “Are we close?” she asked. “It seems like we’re in the middle of nowhere. On the side of a mountain, no less.”

“Yeah, well,” Caleb said, huffing lightly. “That’s kind of the point. It’s not supposed to be easy to find.”

Ava walked over and brushed the snow off another boulder, settling next to Caleb and pulling her knees up under her coat. “It is a beautiful spot,” she said.

Caleb smiled. “It is. I grew up here, you know.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded. “I used to come out here a lot. I wasn’t supposed to, of course,” he added with a self-deprecating grin. “It could be dangerous outside of the cloak. But the view—this view—was worth it.” He took another cube and chewed it thoughtfully, a slight smile on his face as he looked out over the valley.

Ava eyed him carefully. “So,” she said. “About what we were talking about before.”

Caleb gave a distracted hum, his eyes still on the scenery.

“About the aging . . . thing?”

He glanced at her wryly. “Yeah?”

“How does that work, exactly?” she asked. “I mean, do you get old and stay old for a long, long time?”

Caleb laughed. “No. That would kind of suck.”

Ava grinned. “No kidding.”

Caleb leaned back on his hands, thinking for a moment. “So, how much do you remember about your high school biology—DNA, chromosomes, that kind of thing?”

Ava shrugged. “Not much.”

“Well, simply put, when DNA replicates, it splits, and each half rebuilds the missing half. The problem is it’s a complex and imperfect process. Sometimes, little bits of DNA are lost or misaligned and not copied. It gets worse as you get older. That’s what basically makes people age and eventually die.”

“So we literally fall apart.”

Caleb laughed. “Something like that.” He sat up, mimicking Ava’s position and wrapping his arms around his knees. “But our DNA is better able to replicate without losing anything—at least for a much longer period of time. We age like humans until our bodies reach maturity, but then the aging process is slowed dramatically.”

“Wow,” Ava said. “I bet the cosmetic companies would love to get hold of one of you guys.”

“Us.”

“What?” Ava asked.

“One of us,” he said pointedly.

Ava gulped, unsure of how she felt about that. Then she was hit with a flash of insight. “When I hit my head,” she said, reaching back to touch her scar. “Did you heal me?”

Caleb nodded. “More cellular manipulation,” he explained. “It’s just a matter of speeding up the process a bit, giving a little push to your platelets and collagen and epithelial cells. I’m afraid I’m not as well-versed in the technique as some.” He shrugged. “Sorry about the scar.”

Ava blinked. “Uh, that’s okay. I mean . . . thanks?”

Caleb shrugged in response, taking another drink of water.

“So,” she said, getting to her feet and suddenly anxious to change the subject. “Should we get going?”

Caleb shrugged. “We’re here.”

Ava looked around in confusion. All she could see in the immediate vicinity were snow-covered rocks and trees and . . . more snow and trees. “Uh . . . okay?”

Caleb laughed, getting to his feet—visibly stronger. “The gate is right over there,” he said, pointing to an opening in the trees. “We could just walk in, but I think it would be better to wait for someone to come for us.”

“Do they know we’re here?” Ava asked her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Oh, yeah.” Caleb picked up his bag. “Someone’s on the way to meet us already. Can you feel him?” He raised an eyebrow at Ava, as if testing her.

She closed her eyes, and—sure enough—felt that telltale prickle over her skin. “Yeah . . . yeah, I think I can.”

Ava opened her eyes just as Caleb took a step forward, and they turned to face whoever was coming. She squinted into the forest as a shimmering shape began to take form, solidifying into a large man with shoulder-length dark hair, dressed in black from head to toe.

“Don’t you people believe in color?” she muttered.

Caleb snickered, but sobered as the man drew nearer, his brow drawn in a ferocious scowl. “You have a lot of nerve showing up here,” he growled.

Caleb squared his shoulders. “Hello, Rafe,” he said. “Nice to see you, too.”

Rafe smirked. “Funny. Do you know what kind of trouble you’ve caused? We’ve got dozens of Protectors out looking for you.”

Caleb shrugged. “Guess you can call them back.”

Their eyes locked for a long minute, both men poised on their toes, neither backing down. Ava held her breath as they sized each other up, catching the movement of Caleb’s fingers as they clenched into a fist.

She half-feared that this would all be over before it even began.

Then, Rafe broke into a wide grin, sweeping his arm over Caleb’s shoulders and pulling him into a playful headlock.

“You jerk,” Caleb muttered.

“It’s good to see you, man,” Rafe replied, releasing him with a glance Ava’s direction. “Wish it was under better circumstances. You must be Ava.”

She nodded nervously, taking his offered hand and shaking it firmly. “Nice to meet you?” she said, only belatedly realizing she’d formed it as a question.

Rafe laughed. “Yes, well, I can see where you might wonder if that’s true.”

Caleb propped his hands on his hips, eyes serious. “So, how bad is it?”

Rafe sighed, turning to lead them back toward the gate. Ava still couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but she trailed along behind them.

“It isn’t good,” Rafe admitted. “Although I think it’ll help that you came in of your own volition.” He grinned, lowering his voice, obviously oblivious—or uncaring—that Ava could hear every word. “You certainly surprised everyone with that little move. How’d you get the Half-Breed to come along willingly?”

Caleb stiffened. “It was her idea.”

Rafe’s eyes widened, turning to glance at her in surprise. “Really,” he said.

Ava stuck her chin out stubbornly, challenge flashing in her eyes. “I’m tired of running.”

“Huh,” Rafe said noncommittally, turning back around as they neared the spot where he first appeared. Ava could barely make out a slight shimmer, almost like the ripples rising off asphalt on a hot day. Caleb and Rafe continued to walk forward, but even though she’d seen a cloak before at the safe house, she hesitated when their images wavered before her eyes.

Caleb glanced back. “It’s okay,” he said quietly, his face going into and out of focus.

Ava nodded and stepped forward. She felt nothing but a slight warming of the air around her, but the trees shimmered slightly and vanished, replaced by a large, iron gate set in a tall stone wall. Ava gaped in surprise, looking in either direction, but the wall seemed to go on forever, curving around in the distance as far as she could see. The wall towered over them—at least fifteen or twenty feet tall—and one side of the double gate hung open enough for them to walk through. It clanged shut behind them, making Ava jump.