The MORE Trilogy (38 page)

Caleb propped a hand on the tree behind her, nuzzling along her neck and placing a soft kiss behind her ear.

“We’re supposed to be training,” Ava said, a little breathless and maybe a bit distracted, as well.

“Too much training isn’t good for you.”

She laughed. “Oh, and where did you hear that?”

He trailed kisses down her neck, sucking lightly at her collarbone where it peeked out from under her shirt. “Common knowledge,” he said into the hollow at her throat. “All work and no play . . . blah, blah, blah.” Caleb waved an idle hand as he scraped his teeth lightly against her skin.

Ava gasped. “You make a valid point,” she said, her voice trembling, revealing his effect on her.
 

He lifted his head with a victorious smirk. “I knew you’d see it my way.”

“Cocky.”

His response was muffled because Caleb chose that moment to kiss her properly.

It had been months since the first time Caleb kissed her, but Ava still had yet to get used to the electrifying sensation. It wasn’t only the physical act, the press of lips to lips, which was
spectacular—
all hot and wet and demanding and . . . 
hot
—but kissing Caleb also sparked a mingling of their power. She recognized it now, the electric tingle of Caleb’s Race gift sizzling along her skin, penetrating into her very center, and slowly—
deliciously
—wrapping itself around her power, the two weaving together in a sensual dance that left her dizzy once he pulled away. It was why she always fought it when he tried to stop.
 

She felt a little pathetic about it, as though she had absolutely no control over her own body. She didn’t, at least when it came to Caleb. Still, it was more than lust—more than simple physical attraction. Ava was relatively sure she was in love with Caleb, although she had yet to say the words out loud. Maybe it made her a coward, but she was an old-fashioned girl and wanted him to say it first. Or maybe old-fashioned had nothing to do with it. Maybe she just didn’t want to make a fool of herself.

It was possible.

She couldn’t complain, though. They’d only grown closer since they had returned from the Race city of New Elysia three months earlier, even with Ava’s newly tapped power still wild and erratic and both of them unsure what the Council’s next move would be. He’d succeeded in his goal as her tutor to help her pass physics, and even though she no longer had need of him in that capacity, he was just as patient when it came to helping her with her Race skills. Even if most training sessions eventually devolved into make-out sessions.

Not that Ava fought it too much. Kissing Caleb was incredible. The way he touched her, and that thing he did with his—
 

A vibration in her pocket brought Ava out of her thoughts.
 

Caleb pulled back slightly but kept his body pressed up against hers as she took her phone out of her pocket.

“My mother.” Her head fell back against the tree as she groaned, thumb hovering over the
Ignore
button.
 

Caleb laughed. “You know if you don’t answer, she’ll just call back.”

Ava shrugged, punching the button and stuffing the phone back in her pocket. “Maybe not. Maybe she’ll leave a message.” She wrapped her arms around Caleb’s neck, tugging him closer and twisting her fingers in the dark hair at his nape.
 

He smiled against her lips, his warm breath sending a shiver down her spine.

The phone rang again and Ava grumbled, tugging Caleb forward stubbornly when he tried to pull away.
 

“You might as well answer it,” Caleb said, untangling himself to reach into his inside coat pocket and pull out his glasses.
 

He didn’t need them, but they helped him fit in at school and made him less noticeable. Also, Ava liked them, to be perfectly honest. They were cute.

He took her free hand in his. “We should be heading back anyway. It’ll be dark soon.”

Ava frowned, but answered the phone and allowed Caleb to lead her down the path to the edge of the woods. “Hi, Mom.”

“Sweetie, I wanted to check and see what you’ve decided about spring break,” her mother said, a little distracted, as if she was doing something else at the same time. It wasn’t unusual. Sarah Michaels was nothing if not a multitasker. “You know we’d love to see you. And Caleb, of course.”
 

Her voice had softened on Caleb’s name, and Ava couldn’t help rolling her eyes.
 

Caleb smirked, obviously hearing it as well.
 

Her parents adored Caleb and had since they first met him over Christmas break. She hadn’t actually
intended
for them to meet, but Caleb had insisted on accompanying her home to Oregon for her own protection. With wide, innocent eyes, he’d promised he would keep his distance if she wasn’t ready for him to meet her parents yet. Of course, Ava couldn’t very well tell him the idea terrified her, so she’d shown up on her parents’ front porch with Caleb by her side. The smile on his face had been more than a little smug, if she hadn’t been mistaken.

In the end, it had been a blessing having him along. In addition to the obvious benefit of having him sleeping down the hall in the guest room and unlimited access to him during the day, he’d helped her investigate some of the questions that had come up after she’d learned of her Race blood. She’d always known she was adopted—abandoned nineteen years earlier at a local church when she was only a few days old—but being back home had given her the opportunity to try and find out more about what had happened.

One afternoon, they’d visited the priest who had found her. He’d long since retired and moved to Coos Bay, but with Caleb’s shifting ability, they’d made the distance in an afternoon, and with his power to push—a mild compulsion gift that helped him get what he wanted—they’d talked their way into the retirement home and sat with Father Gallagher for about an hour.
 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to tell them much. He said that night he’d been at the hospital, counseling Ava’s parents, who’d just lost their own baby. He’d returned to the rectory, and a noise had drawn him to the front of the church, where he found Ava bundled in a blanket inside a cardboard box—no note, no identification of any kind.
 

The box, of course, was long gone, but the blanket had been stored in Ava’s attic along with other baby clothes. She’d dug it out, trying her best to reassure her mother that she was simply curious about her past, nothing more.
 

The adoption itself hadn’t been exactly official. No paperwork had been filed with the state. Not even the police had been notified about Ava’s abandonment. The priest had simply tapped into his connections at the hospital, and the infant who had died became a Jane Doe, and Ava had become her parents’ daughter.

Ava realized, as the truth had come out, that someone Race had had a hand in keeping the adoption under wraps, not to mention influencing her adoptive parents to leave behind their own lost biological child. Ava had never questioned how they could essentially replace one baby with another, like in some bad soap opera. Her mother had always called Ava a gift from God and left it at that. As she had spoken with the priest, however, Ava realized that someone had most likely helped her mom and dad with the transition, perhaps even blurred the memory of the loss so they could more easily accept their new daughter. The thought made Ava shudder.

In the end, Sarah had been supportive in the way that only a mother could be—after all, now that Ava was an adult, there was little chance the authorities would step in and take her away—and Ava had felt another wave of guilt about concealing her Race identity from her mother. It was something she constantly battled—wishing she could tell her parents everything, but needing to protect them from the truth for their own good.

Unfortunately, the investigation had proven fruitless anyway. The only tie Ava had been able to find to her past was that blanket—soft, white flannel with white stitching around the edge and a stylized H with curved sides embroidered in one corner. She and Caleb had tried to track down the image, thinking perhaps the H referred to a nearby hospital or even a women’s shelter, but they could find no connection to anything within several hundred miles.

Another dead end.

She’d taken the blanket with her back to Allenmore College, though. It was the only connection to her other life, the life before she became Ava Michaels. She kept it tucked away in the bottom of a drawer, somehow comforted by its presence—proof that all the incredible things she’d been through over the past few months were real and not the figment of an overactive imagination.

“Ava, are you listening to me?”
 

She took a deep breath, shaking off the memories to focus on the phone call. “Yes, Mom.” Caleb squeezed her hand, and Ava smiled sheepishly in response. “I don’t know about spring break. I’ll have to see.” Caleb snickered, and she shot him a nasty look.
 

They had been planning a trip of their own, just the two of them, but she’d yet to work up the courage to tell her mother that. Caleb had teased her about it to no end, saying she was brave enough to face the Council and a room full of Protectors, but her mother made her want to run and hide. It wasn’t really that she was
afraid
of her mother, though. It was just that Sarah Michaels had considered Ava and Caleb all but engaged since he’d come home with her at Christmas. Telling her they were going on vacation together would kick-start the wedding plans for sure.

They neared the edge of the forest and Caleb released her hand, popping a couple of R-cubes in his mouth to prepare for the shift.
 

She wasn’t sure exactly where they were—somewhere in western Wyoming, on a bluff overlooking the Mississippi River valley. They generally had to shift a half dozen times or so to find an isolated spot to train, and Caleb preferred the protection that a forest provided. That meant either the woodlands and ravines of Wyoming or the Badlands of South Dakota, both equidistant from Allenmore College in northwestern Missouri. Shifting took a lot out of Caleb, especially long distances, but he seemed to be getting more comfortable with pushing himself to even fifty miles at a time. A couple of cubes before and after, fifteen minutes of rest, and he was ready to go again. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one getting stronger with practice.

He turned to her, hands tucked in his pockets and brow raised in question.
 

“Look, Mom, I’ve got to go,” she said. “I’ve got a big test tomorrow, and I’m almost to the library, and they really don’t like you to talk on the phone in there because it . . . you know, disrupts everyone—” She glared at Caleb’s amused chuckle. She never had been any good at lying.
 

“All right, honey,” her mother replied. “Let me know about spring break, okay? We thought it might be fun to have Uncle Bobby and everyone over to meet Caleb.”
 

Ava fought back a groan. That was something she would never subject Caleb to. Uncle Bobby had a habit of pulling out his teeth so he could click
The William Tell Overture
on his gums. “Okay, Mom. I’ll let you know. Love you.” Her mom returned the sentiment, and Ava hung up.
 

Caleb snorted.

“Shut up,” she muttered.

“You need to tell her sometime.”

“I know. I will.” She moved toward him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
 

“When?” he asked.

“Soon.”

Caleb held her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Just think. You and me, alone . . . traveling the country, seeing the sights.”

“You sure you can handle all that shifting?”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I can’t wait to show you the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls
 . . .
”

“Times Square.”

“The Met.”

“Disney World.”

Caleb laughed. “Of course, we can’t miss Disney World. I’ll even get you one of those Mickey Mouse hats with your name embroidered on it.”
 

Ava sighed. “It’s going to be perfect.”

“Yes, except for one thing.”

She peeked up at him. “What?”

“Your mother filing a missing person’s report when we don’t show up at her house.” Ava made to shove him away, but he only held her tighter, chuckling slightly. “I’m kidding,” he said. “I know you’ll tell her when you can.”

“I will.”

“I know.” He bent to kiss her once more. “Ready?”
 

“Ready.”

Ava closed her eyes and pressed her face into Caleb’s chest, knowing better than to try and watch as they shifted. She’d done it once—only once—and ended up on her knees throwing up all over Caleb’s shoes once they’d landed. It was an experience she had no desire to repeat. So instead, she held on tight and inhaled deeply, Caleb’s warm and spicy scent instantly calming her as the ground fell away and the wind whipped around them in a swirling vortex.