The Honor Trilogy: Books One, Two, and Three of the Honor Trilogy (13 page)

Creeping into the house slowly, unsure of how to ask Mom for that envelope, my stomach assaults me. I clench my middle and will it to settle down – a futile effort. Continuing into the house anyway, I hope for the best.

“Honor, what’s the matter?” Mom looks up from her novel and asks. “You’re white as a ghost. Are you all right, honey?” She leaps off the couch and puts her hand on my forehead.

“Mom. Stop.” Swatting her hand away, I move to the couch. “I’m sorry, Mom. I just…I’m fine.”

“You look pale.”

“Mrs. Stevens,” Ethan butts in even though I’m not ready for this. Asking Mom for that envelope is definitely going to include me telling her I’m an empath. “Can we sit?” He asks my mom, motioning for her to sit back down on the couch while he remains standing.

Suddenly I’m wishing I could just disappear.

“What’s up?” Mom asks, her pitch an octave too high.

“Mom.” And though I try very hard not to, I cry.

“Honor, honey, what is it?” My mom takes my hand. “What happened?”

Ethan sits next to me and places his hand on my thigh.

“That envelope…you told me about.” I hesitate to take a moment to catch my breath.

My mother’s eyebrows are knitted and she looks totally confused.

“The one…with my…my birth certificate.”

Mom’s head bobs up and down. “Right, right.” Then she shakes her head back and forth a couple times. “What about it?”

I take a second or two to clear the imaginary tickle in my throat. “You said there were other…things in there.”

“Oh.” Mom takes a moment to remember. “Yes. Um, yeah there were other papers in there, but…why, Honor?”

“Mrs. Stevens.” Damn Ethan for rushing me. He squeezes my thigh gently then releases it. “Honor’s birth parents were what you call empaths. They could take on other people’s pain.”

My mom cringes. Her shoulders hunch and she starts moving her jaw back and forth. “Oh…that…sounds…painful.”

“It is, Mrs. Stevens.” Ethan exhales loudly. “They were also able to…take that pain away.”

“Whose pain?” she asks.

“The people whose pain they felt.” Ethan answers. In the meantime, I want to throw up.

“Oh.” Mom brings her hand to her mouth. “Oh.” Realization sets in. Her eyes widen and her hand tightens over her mouth. Mom begins looking pale herself.

“Mom?” My hand goes to her arm. “Are you okay?”

“Honor,” she whispers. “You.” She nods her head. “You healed…me? You…did…that?”

I nod very, very slowly…afraid to say the word.

She pulls me into her arms, and I’m amazed that she accepts this knowledge without doubt. I expected her to not believe it possible…like I did when Ethan told me.

“Mrs. Stevens.” Damn that Ethan again. He’s too anxious for my own good. “These papers Honor is asking you about. Where are they?”

Mom unclasps her hold on me. “Oh. They’re in my lock box. Why?”

“We need to know what they are. We’re hoping we find some unanswered questions in them,” Ethan comments.

“What…like what kind of questions?”

“Well,” Ethan continues while I fidget with my thumbs. I’m so not ready to let Mom know someone is after me. “Evidently, Honor had a very old grandfather. Centuries old in fact.” Ethan ignores Mom’s look of disbelief and keeps on talking. “He was some sort of scientist. The kind that…plays around with things and comes up with…well…immortal type elixirs. Like an alchemist.” There. He said it.

But he has to stop talking now, because Mom looks almost green. I guess we’ve reached her believability threshold. I grasp Mom’s hand. “It’s okay, Mom. I still can’t fathom this either…but, look, I can actually…
heal
people. If that’s possible…well, maybe other things are possible too, right?”

Mom just nods. My stomach churns for her.

“Anyway…her grandfather made this elixir and well, we think he may have left it with Honor.”

After several minutes of Mom gazing at Ethan, her eyes register sanity again. “No. There was nothing in it but documents. No bottles or anything.”

“Right…but maybe these documents hold some type of clue or something.”

“Oh,” she whispers. Clearing her throat, she says, “Sure. Let me go get them.”

While we sit waiting for my mother to get the envelope, I silently thank God that my Dad is working late tonight. I don’t know if Mom will fill him in or not, but Dad would have been a much harder sell.

“Honor.” Ethan wraps his arm around me. “How you
holdin’ up?”

I shrug.

Both his arms come around me, and he holds me tight. Kissing me on the top of my head, he breathes, “It’ll all be all right, I promise.”

Now I know Ethan can’t possibly keep a promise like that. After all, how does he know if it will all be all right? But I accept the sentiment just the same.

I have no choice.

The alternative sucks.

Mom reenters with a large yellow envelope gripped in her hands. If I’m not mistaken, I see the envelope shaking in her hands – a sure sign this is throwing my mother for a loop. As if I needed a sign. The anxiety playing havoc with my nerves is sign enough. I’m convinced it’s not only my nerves I’m feeling, but Mom’s as well.

Ethan hops off the couch and takes the envelope from my mother. Splaying the contents across the coffee table, he angles himself over it, like a miner digging for gold. Slowly he slides his fingers over each piece of paper as he carefully inspects each word. My body stills as I watch him pick up an old yellowed photo. His eyes widen, and his heart picks up speed. I feel it in my own heart. A cold tickle crawls up my spine the moment I realize he’s found something. Ethan sits back on his heels as he stares at the photograph. Leaning over his shoulder, I try to see what he is seeing. He points at a particular spot in the photo and hands it to me.

It’s an old photograph of a one-room brick schoolhouse. There are three windows and one door that I can see from the image. The adults and children in the photo appear to be posing for the photographer. Nothing distinct strikes my attention. There is, however, a small black smudge above the building’s foundation in the back left corner of the photo. I only notice it because Ethan points to it. To me it looks like part of the aging of the photograph.

“What do you think that is?” I ask, still unsure why he pays any attention to it at all. Mom moves in closer to get a better look.

“I think,” he starts slowly. “It’s our clue.”

“But why would you think that? It’s just a smudge.”

“Because it looks like it was put there purposely…it was made with black ink…I’m pretty sure.”

“Oh,” Mom and I both say.

“We just have to figure out where and if this school still stands,” Ethan muses.

“That’s the Old Monroe School,” Mom remarks.

With mouths dropped, Ethan and I turn towards my mother.

Mom laughs. “It’s in
Hardyston…twenty minutes from here.”

“What?” Ethan asks. “This building is in New Jersey?”

“Yup. On Route Ninety-Four.” Mom smiles.

Ethan drops his shoulders. “Great. We can go search it.”

“Not now,” Mom says. “It’s dark. There are no lights up there. Besides, the building is still tended to. It’s an historical landmark. They only open it in July and August. I’m sure there will be alarms.”

“Mrs. Stevens, with all due respect, we are not going to wait until July to get in there. We need to get this…elixir stuff now.”

“But why? Why is it so important that you get it?” Mom asks. I close my eyes and tense up, hoping Ethan doesn’t tell my mother that there are dangerous men after me.

“Because, Mrs. Stevens.” While Ethan continues, my body stiffens and my insides are running amok. “We don’t want it getting into the wrong hands,” he finishes.

Allowing my body to relax, I silently thank God that Ethan didn’t tell Mom the truth. Well…the other truth. We certainly do not want the elixir falling into the wrong hands either.

“Okay,” she says. “But do you need to go tonight? In the dark?”

Ethan shakes his head. “No. We can wait until tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow after school,” my mom corrects.

“Yes, Mrs. Stevens. After school.”

“Oh, goodness. Please don’t get caught breaking in,” she cries.

“Mom. We’ll be all right.” I get up and hug her…thanking God I have such an understanding mother.

My mom gets up and goes into the kitchen, leaving Ethan and me alone.

“Honor,” Ethan whispers, getting up and pulling me aside. “You go to school tomorrow. I’m going to check out the school with Uncle Tom and Hunter.”

“You don’t want me coming with you?” I sulk.

“There’s really no need, sweetheart. Besides, if we do get caught, why should you get in trouble? I’m emancipated, remember? No one’s around to punish me.”

“No…just law enforcement,” I whine.

Ethan laughs and kisses me on the forehead. “We’ll be fine.” Then my oh-so-handsome boyfriend gazes into my eyes and whispers, “I love you, Honor Nicole Stevens.” His soft lips graze my own and then he presses them more firmly against mine and deepens the kiss.

I melt in his arms.

**

The next morning, Ethan leaves for his apartment, and my mother drives me to school. Since she’s back at work, I have to give her car back. It was nice while it lasted.

I kiss Mom goodbye and enter the school. Feeling nervous about what Ethan is setting out to do today, I seek out Tamlin and find her at her locker.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tamlin greets me with a smile.

“Hey, Tam.” I respond with a trepid voice.

“What’s up,
hon?”

“I told my mom…about being able to…you know.”

“That you’re an…”

“
Shhh.” I cut her off, not wanting anyone to overhear her. “Yes, I told her that.”

“O-M-G, what did she say?”

“She took it rather well, I suppose. She didn’t think I was making it up or anything…she was cool.”

“Wow. I bet that’s a relief,” she comments.

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“We kinda had to tell her…there are some people after me.”

“
What
?”

“I’ll tell you about it later. I don’t want to be late for class.”

“Okay, hon. But I’m here for you. You know that, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

**

For forty minutes at least, I can forget about Ethan and whatever he’s doing right now. It’s Chemistry time…and I just love looking at Mr. Moore.

While I’m daydreaming about his beautiful sapphire eyes gazing into mine, Tamlin slides a folded piece of paper across my desk. I tear myself away from gawking at our fine Chemistry teacher to surreptitiously unfold her note.

So why did you

have to tell your

mom about your

being an empath?

T.

I close my eyes and shake my head. Why does she have to ask me this now? I wanted to forget the drama in my life for a few brief moments.

I quickly write her back.

There are some dangerous men

after me. I’ll tell you about it

later.

H.

I fold up the note and pass it back to her. After she opens it, I watch her eyes bug out of her head. She frantically scribbles something down and returns the note.

What?

What kind of dangerous men?

Aren’t you scared?

T.

Shaking my head to alert her that I cannot keep passing this note back in forth, I make sure she sees me fold up the note and set it aside.

“Miss Stevens,” I hear Mr. Moore call from the front of the class.

God, please don’t let him ask me about the note.

“Do you have something you’d like to share with the class?”

“No, Sir,” I answer, feeling like I’m going to throw up.

“Hand me the note, Miss Stevens.” He is standing in front of the room with his hands on his hips – intimidating as all hell.

God no. “Um, Mr. Moore, really it wasn’t…”

“
Now
, Miss Stevens.”

Damn.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, bracing myself to give him my tell-tale note. The chair screeches across the terrazzo floor when I stand, sending penetrating shivers throughout my body. The classroom disappears around me as I walk the plank to my demise – well…at least life as I know it. Once Mr. Moore gets a hold of this note, there is no way the empath species is staying a secret.

Then there’s no telling what will become of us.

With a trembling hand, I place the note in Mr. Moore’s hand and turn in a dither to go back to my seat. As I sit at my desk, I see Mr. Moore read the note and without a second glance at me, he sticks it in his front pocket. He returns to his lesson as if he hadn’t just read the most peculiar exchange between two people.

What is he thinking? He’s probably going to show the note to the principal, and then they’ll want to talk to me. What will I say? Ethan is going to be so mad. The government is going to find out, and they’ll want to do all sorts of tests on us. Just like Ethan said – we’ll be reduced to nothing more than lab rats.

After the bell signals the end of class, Tamlin strides over to my desk. “Honey, I’m
so
sorry. I didn’t think we’d get caught.”

“It’s okay,” I murmur, lurching down the aisle…dizzy as all hell. I’ve made such a blunder by telling Tamlin, I can’t even get my bearings. We walk out of class together, but I tell her I’ll meet her in later.

Too distraught to finish the school day, I slip out the back door and head for the reservation…seeking solace in the big rock that Ethan and I occasionally share. All I can think about is what Ethan is going to say when he finds out what happened…and what
I
will say when Mr. Moore and the principal call me down to the office to explain the note.

Mahlon
Dickerson is serene right now. The sky is gray, and the air feels damp – like it’s going to rain soon. For me, it is comforting – the weather matches my mood. If it were sunny, I’d just feel like it was mocking me. Instead, Mother Nature is down along with me.

I guess because I am lost in thought, I don’t hear anyone approaching until I feel a hand on my shoulder. “Ethan,” I utter under my breath.

But quickly, another hand wraps around my mouth before I am lifted and pinned with my back against a hard, large body. Mumbling is all that comes out as I try to scream against his hand. Another person dressed in all black sticks a piece of duct tape across my mouth then grabs my legs as the man already holding me straps a band around my arms so I can’t move them. I am overpowered with terror as these two masked men barely struggle to carry me to their black SUV. Just like in the movies, they throw me in the trunk and shut the lid.
Oh my god, I’m going to die.

It is an understatement to say that panic has set in. I am beyond frightened. For the first time in my short life, I believe I have seen my last day on earth. The car jounces beneath me while the thunder rumbles above me. I can feel the shortage of air and space. My heart races with anxiety, pounding ferociously to get out my chest – my arms unable to do the same to get me out of this trunk. Sometime during the ride I fall asleep…or pass out…I’m not really sure. But I know I was out, because suddenly I wake up in a cold, dark, cinderblock room…alone…still tied to myself and unable to move from my sitting position.

No one comes in for several hours. At least that’s what it feels like. There is no way to tell, since my purse is somewhere by the rock at Mahlon Dickerson. The tape is still over my mouth, so I can’t yell to get anyone’s attention…but inside my mind, a sharp piercing shriek is screaming to get out.

Footsteps are creaking on the floor above me, causing my heart to race so rapidly I really think I’m going to have a heart attack. The huge door that sits atop the stone stairs to my right screeches open. I scream as loud as my bound mouth allows me to, but what good will it do?
Only a muffled whine comes out. My tears
pour
down my face. Two sets of feet step down the stairs. When I finally get a good look, I see their faces are still covered with ski masks.

“We thought you might be hungry,” the one man says before placing a McDonald’s Happy Meal in front of me. “My friend here is going to feed you. I’ll be standing outside waiting for more instructions. Now when he pulls off that tape, you better not scream.” Then he laughs. “Not that it’s going to help. You’re in an icehouse. No one will hear you from down here.” He walks away laughing.

The other man touches my face to get hold of the tape’s edge. The strangest feeling runs through me, but I can’t put a finger on what it is. Gently, the man begins tearing the tape from my mouth. When he’s done, I open my mouth to scream, but he puts his gloved fingers to my lips and says, “Shhh.”

He opens my hamburger and presses it to my lips. Though I’m hungry, I’m too scared and upset to eat. I keep my lips pursed so he can’t force the hamburger in. My kidnapper drops his head to the side in a show of hurt feelings.

“Please let me go,” I sob. “Please.”

He closes his eyes, and that’s when it occurs to me that his eyes are violet. I was so scared that I hadn’t noticed.
This man is an empath. He must be feeling my pain.

“Please, let me go,” I cry again, only this time a bit more soberly. I realize that if he can feel my pain, he might have some empathy for me and release me. “Please, I don’t know what you want, but you can have it…if I have it.”

The violet-eyed abductor looks around and appears to be trying to listen for something. When he’s satisfied, he slowly pulls off his mask.

My eyes widen in disbelief. Too shocked to say anything, the room starts fading away and I head backwards through my own envisioned tunnel. My eyes close. Once again, I’ve slipped into unconsciousness.

I awake lying sideways across someone’s lap, my arms and legs now free from their ties. I’m afraid to turn to see whose lap it is, so I take a look around the room. Realizing I’m still inside the icehouse, the knowledge of whose lap I’m resting on becomes clear. I spring up to standing position much too aware of my tight limbs.

Touching my mouth to be sure it’s not duct taped again, I shriek, “He was right. You
are
on their side. How could you?”

“Honor. Stop. Let me explain.”

I shake my head, staring in shock.

Storm.

My abductor.

For some reason… my heart is broken.