Kelley Armstrong - The Rising

I stood there, outside the door where he couldn’t see me, and I tried to look at him. I could see him just fine, but I didn’t mean that. I meant look at him. As a guy. As soon as I tried, though, it was like my brain threw up a barrier. Off-limits. Taboo. I wasn’t supposed to look at him that way, because he was Serena’s and even now, a year after her death, I’d kept thinking that, kept feeling that. It had made things easier. Do not look at him like that, because if you do, you’ll have to face things you’re not ready to face, things you’ve been feeling since he really was Serena’s .

I’ve said that I let Serena win that game two years ago because I didn’t feel that way about Daniel. That wasn’t true. I let her win because I’d been starting to feel that way about Daniel, starting to watch him in the boxing ring, watch him stripping off his shirt and pants to swim with us, and I’d been feeling things I wasn’t ready to feel. It was all too confusing. And embarrassing. So I let Serena win, and then he was hers and I would never look at my best friend’s guy that way, so the problem was solved. Except it wasn’t. Not really. I just took what I was feeling and relabeled it as simple friendship. A really close friendship that no one was allowed to interfere with, not even a guy I genuinely liked.

So where did that leave me? The same place I was two years ago. Confused. Because now there was Rafe and he wasn’t just a substitute or a distraction.

Daniel noticed me then, and when he did, he broke into a grin. I froze there a second, before he called, “You coming in?” and I did. I went in and told him about the deal I’d brokered with the Cabals.

When I finished, he caught my hand and pulled me closer. “You okay?”

“I’m not the one who got shot.”

“Yes, but I think you might have had the harder ordeal. I know that wasn’t easy and I wish I could have been there, but obviously I didn’t need to be. You did great. Better than great.” He pulled me into a hug. “You did perfect.”

“This looks familiar,” I said as I looked around the helicopter, seated behind the pilot, Daniel beside me.

“Except this time, I’m not unconscious on the floor,” Rafe said from my other side.

“Just keep your seat belt on,” Daniel said. “Until this bullet wound heals, I’m in no shape to hang outside helicopter doors.”

“How many times are you planning to mention that bullet wound?” Corey called from the seat behind us.

“Um, I think this is the first time I brought it up.”

“Well, stop.” He shook his head. “Big damn hero.” He looked around. “Does anyone else think that putting us on a helicopter really doesn’t send the right message of peace?”

“Which is why they said we could wait for the private jet to come back from Vancouver.”

It was true—they’d fully understood that we might not want to climb into a helicopter after that fateful flight from Salmon Creek. But everyone was tired of waiting. So we’d agreed to the helicopters—two of them.

We tried to stay calm during the flight, but everyone was anxious. Excited and not sure we dared to be excited. The flight landed on schedule, at the airport they’d promised. Then we had to go through Customs.

“Canada?” Ash said. “You didn’t say it was in Canada.”

“I said Ontario.”

“I thought you meant Ontario, California.”

“Seriously?” Tori said, rolling her eyes. “A helicopter to California? You may be hot, but your sister clearly inherited all the brains in the family.”

“Did she call me hot?” Ash whispered to me, looking more annoyed than he ever did when someone called him a jerk.

“She hasn’t been on a date in six months,” Derek rumbled behind us. “No offense, but as long as you aren’t related to her, you’re fair game. Hell, even—”

Tori spun on him. “I didn’t know.”

“Um, wait a sec,” Corey said. “So Ash is hot and I’m seriously cute? Is there a difference?”

“Yes,” Hayley said, and propelled him through the line.

THE VANS TOOK US deep into the wilderness outside of Algonquin Park. As I stared out at the forest I started to relax and started to think maybe, just maybe, this would all be okay.

We’d been getting updates through Sean on the fallout from everything. Dr. Inglis was in Cabal custody. Annie was still being treated, but they were bringing her out to join us tomorrow. Nicole was also undergoing treatment, but we had been assured that no matter how much progress she made, she’d never rejoin our group. As for my own regression issues, Antone said we could look at those right away.

Before Annie arrived with Kenjii, there were others coming. Very important others. Our families.

When I’d won this concession from the Cabals, there had been strings attached. Our parents could never know that the people who’d arranged this happy reunion were actually the ones responsible for the separation. There was no way to explain that, especially to my parents, still reeling at the news that not only did supernaturals exist, but their daughter was one of them.

Which parents had always known their kids were part of an experiment? The Morrises and the Tillsons. That’s why the Tillsons got custody of Sam—the St. Clouds had asked them to take her in with the false story that she was their niece. Chief Carling hadn’t known; her husband was the one who’d agreed to take part in the experiment and moved them to Salmon Creek. She had, however, known that supernaturals exist—her family were sileni, like her husband’s. So she’d understood that the St. Clouds were a Cabal, but had been told they were developing medicine for supernaturals, which explained all the secrecy. Daniel’s father had found out when his wife left.

Now all the parents knew about Project Phoenix and their children’s role in it. Those who hadn’t known were furious, of course. But that anger was mitigated by the lie that the Cabals had “found” their children and returned them. The fire, they said, had been set by a rival group, who’d stolen us and faked the crash, complete with DNA. But the Nasts figured it out, tracked them down, and rescued us. So they were the heroes in this story and now, to make up for everything we’d been through, they were going to give us a new town and everything we needed to be happy, healthy teen supernaturals. Did it make sense? I don’t know. I think our parents were just too happy right now to question it.

Was I happy with a version of reality where the Cabals were the good guys? Of course not. Would I always be able to keep the truth from my parents? Probably not. But as much as the lies hurt, I knew this was best, for now.

The van continued through the forest. We went from a two-lane highway to a narrow paved road to a dirt lane to something that was little more than tracks heading into the brush. Then, without warning, it opened up into what looked like an overgrown parking lot. A half dozen trucks and vans were already there. Cleaning and repair crews, Sean said. Making the place ready for our arrival. “The place” seemed to be a two-story wood building, but when we got out, Sean led us around it and we found ourselves at the edge of a lake circled by wooden cabins.

Everyone spread out, walking to the lake or perching on the picnic tables.

“For now, you’ll live in the cabins,” Sean explained. “We’ll get them cleaned up, of course, but we’ll have construction crews here tomorrow. They’ll tear down some cabins and begin building houses. Ontario winters aren’t as kind as British Columbia’s, but we’re hoping to get the homes done before Christmas.”

While the Cabals envisioned a new Salmon Creek here, they were starting with just us. If other kids came into their powers, they’d be moved here, and the necessary facilities—shops, clinic, school—would grow.