The MORE Trilogy (83 page)

“How much farther?” she asked as she took a seat next to him and leaned into his side.

Caleb consulted the GPS on his phone. “Another six or seven shifts should do it,” he replied. “We should get there a little after Gideon.”

Ava nodded, sliding an arm around his waist as she curled into him.

Caleb popped another R-cube into his mouth before stretching his arm over her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her temple. “You okay?”

She hummed, closing her eyes and basking in Caleb’s warmth, his scent. She could almost fall asleep like this. Her night had been frustratingly short and interrupted by vague nightmares that she couldn’t remember once she’d awakened—flashes of shadow and blood, fear and fury. The dreams had left her exhausted and unsettled with her intuition on edge ever since.

As if sensing her discomfort, Caleb pulled her onto his lap. He traced light fingertips over her cheek, lifting her face so he could kiss her.

She sighed into the touch, melted into the kiss, and wished this was it—that everything else could just fade away while they lived in the moment forever. She was hyperaware of every place Caleb’s skin touched hers, his palm against her cheek, fingers tracing lightly over her ear, his lips moving softly against hers, reassuring and firm. She slid her own arms around his neck to hold him close, the mingling of their power comforting her in her very core.

But . . .

There was something else, too. Another niggling sensation pushing through. An echo of her nightmare, perhaps, or maybe something more.

Ava broke away and drew a shaky breath.

“What is it?” Caleb asked.

“I don’t—I’m not sure.”

Sophie’s heart raced as the SUV sped around a wide curve and Tyra shouted into the cell phone, “Get Adam on that pyro or something! We’ve got to get—”

The crash of a fireball next to the car cut off her words, the resulting explosion rocking the vehicle.

“We’ve got to get off the highway,” Tyra told the driver. “Get out of this damned car so we can fight back!”

“You want to face that pyro head-on?” he replied, swerving around a slow-moving car in front of them.

“A bullet will take him out. Doesn’t matter what his gift is.” She pointed to the right. “There—take that exit. Try to shake him through town.” She turned her attention back to the cell. “We need to split up. They can’t follow us all. We’ll rendezvous in Medicine Hat—but only if you know you’re clear. We can’t risk exposing the safe house.” She listened for a moment, grim-faced, then disconnected the call, and pocketed the phone without another word.

Sophie saw one SUV continuing down the highway while the third chased them into town—Moose Jaw, according to the sign that whizzed by. They split again at the first light. Their car turned right as the one behind them sped left, tires squealing. For the first time, Sophie saw a car chasing them—a black sedan with dark windows—and she held her breath as it neared the intersection and turned right to follow them.

“They’re behind us,” Sophie said unnecessarily. She wasn’t surprised. She knew what they were after. Her heart sped up, pounding in her chest as she gripped Isaiah’s hand, both their palms slick with sweat.

“Sophie?” Isaiah’s voice was small.

Sophie was vaguely aware of the tingle of her gift. Frost edged the car windows.

“I see them,” Tyra muttered.

Another fireball hit wide to their left.

Warning shots.

They don’t want to kill us
.

Sophie knew that wouldn’t serve their pursuers’ purpose, but it didn’t slow her racing heart or ease the grip she had on Isaiah.

Tyra braced her hand against the seat and cursed as the car swerved wildly. She asked Sophie, “Can you—do you think you can do something?”

“I don’t know. I can try.”

Another fireball hit, and the explosion threw the SUV sideways.

The driver fought against the wheel, tires squealing as it slid across the road on two wheels.

Oh, g—we’re going to flip.

“Is someone coming?” Caleb asked.

Ava’s face had taken on a pale, sickly cast, her eyes glazed as she breathed shallow and fast. “No. Not here,” she said. “Not here.”

Sophie grabbed Isaiah’s hand with both her own, her gift flaring inside her.

A gust of wind came at the SUV from the opposite direction and knocked it back onto all four wheels. It skidded into a couple of garbage cans before jolting to a stop at the curb.

“Everybody out!” Tyra shouted. “Take cover in the alley!” She ushered Sophie and Isaiah out, putting herself between them and the coming threat as they ran for the dark space between two brick buildings.

People along the street had stopped to stare, and Sophie couldn’t help wondering how the Race or the Council or whoever would go about hiding this from the world.

Not my problem
.

Not for the moment, at least.

Their pursuers screeched to a stop behind the SUV, and four men stepped out of the vehicle. They seemed to be in no hurry, walking slow and purposeful toward the alley, like they hadn’t a care in the world. Sophie even saw one of them nod and smile at a gaping child standing astride a bicycle.

Sophie backed into the alley and yanked Isaiah behind her as she reached for that feeling, that spark she’d accessed back at the training field. The men appeared in the mouth of the alley, and Sophie glanced behind her, looking for a way out. There wasn’t one.

Tyra and the driver didn’t waste any time. They dropped to a crouch and fired toward the mouth of the alley.

One of the men grinned in response, cold and terrifying, and nodded to the younger man next to him. He lifted a hand, and a fireball shot toward the Guardian driver.

He never had a chance.

The driver fell to the ground, his screams cutting through the air.

A gunshot—two—and the screams were silenced.

Sophie shuddered.

“Sophie,” Ava murmured, a drop of blood bubbling at her nose.

“Ava?” Caleb wiped it away while panic clawed in his chest. “Sophie’s going to the safe house. She’s fine.”

Ava’s eyes cleared as she looked into his. “No. She’s not.”

The temperature dropped and the air turned to icy frost around them. Sophie recognized the tingling electricity of her gift racing along her nerve endings and sparking at her skin.

Another fireball hurled toward Tyra, who dove to the ground and rolled into the brick wall.

With a thought, Sophie diverted the fireball with a ball of ice, the combination sizzling in the air and filling it with a cloud of steam, the remnants dripping to the ground.

Everything seemed to speed up.

One moment, Tyra was rolling over to get to her feet. The next, she had a knife to her throat, and the pyrokinetic was bouncing another fireball in his palm next to her.

Two other men—one strawberry-blond, one dark-haired—approached Sophie and Isaiah, slow and easy, both moving with a confidence that had Sophie’s instincts flaring.

“Stay back,” Sophie warned, another ice ball forming before her. Isaiah trembled behind her, feeding her fear, feeding her gift.

The blond man stepped forward and tilted his head. His eyes flashed—one blue, one brown—pupils blowing wide as he smiled softly.

Sophie was barely aware of the ice ball falling to the concrete before her knees gave out and darkness enveloped her.

“What is it, Ava? You’re scaring me.”

Ava blinked, the images blurring and fading away. She’d never experienced something like that before—not outside her nightmares. A waking dream. A vision of sorts. And like her dreams, the images melted away, drifting like whispers of smoke through her fingers and leaving behind anxiety and unease in their wake. “I . . . I’m not sure,” she said finally. “But something’s wrong. Something’s happened to Sophie. I’m sure of it.”