A Matter of Time: Paranormal, Tattoo, Supernatural, Romance (The Chronicles of Kerrigan Sequel Book 1)

by W. J. May

  “You can’t kill him.”

  It was simple and direct. No mincing of words, no leniency in their offer. All in all, it was a very Gabriel way of ending the conversation.

  “No one in the world has more reason to hate him,” he said softly. “No one in the world has more reason to see him gone… Except maybe me.”

  The room went quiet.

  No one dared take a breath. No one dared to even move for fear that the entire house of cards would come crashing down in flames.

  Except… those flames were cooling now. Growing gentler and gentler the longer Beth stared into Gabriel’s eyes.

  “Julian was right,” he continued quietly. “No matter what Simon is guilty of, the punishment shouldn’t be revenge. It should be law. No one here is saying he gets away scot-free.” He took a careful step forward, placing himself on Rae’s other side. “Simon broke the law. And he will be punished for that. He broke people, too…but we don’t give ourselves over to revenge.” He lifted his head and looked Rae right in the eye. “We don’t do that.”

  It was one of those moments Rae knew she would remember forever. The kind that went on to define people. That went on to shape the things that would come. A coming of age is what Carter would have called it.

  For a second, just a second, she saw a glimmer of what Gabriel could have been if he had never been brought down into those caves. For a split second, she saw a different version of him.

  Untainted, unbroken. A boy laughing in the sun, bright and free.

  Maybe there was a chance for that guy after all.

  Rae hoped beyond anything that there was. Her heart clenched in her chest as she wished she could make that happen. All the tatùs in the world couldn’t help her. They couldn’t change the past.

  At long last, Beth slowly lowered her hands. The flames around her vanished into thin air, but somehow the woman left standing was in no way diminished. In fact, she looked even taller. “You said you found him in the factory?” She kept her eyes on the door, but directed the question to her daughter. “He’d been there all this time?”

  Rae nodded in a daze, unable to believe what had just happened.

  “And no one else knows he’s here? Just the guards who were with you?”

  “Guards who have been sworn to secrecy,” Rae added swiftly. “I trust them.”

  Beth’s eyes flickered to her for a split second, then returned to the door. “Why didn’t you just arrest him? Have the guards take him away to await trial?”

  This was where it got dicey. This was where the whole thing had started to unravel, and this whole game of ‘hide the Kerrigan’ had begun.

  “I knocked him out,” she confessed, remembering that part of it for the first time. “He was lying on the ground, and the next thing I knew a dozen guns were pointed at his head. Mitch Ford—you remember our new head of security? He wanted to shoot him right there. Seemed to think it was the practical thing to do.” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “He asked my permission…”

  Then all at once she was in Beth’s arms. There are few things stronger than a mother’s love and, even with the man who had single-handedly demolished her life sitting just a stone’s throw away, Beth couldn’t stand to see her daughter hurting.

  She held her for a long time, one hand clasped on the back of her head as the other wrapped tightly around her back. They rocked back and forth, oblivious to how much time had passed, or to the others who were still standing there. Taking comfort only in their little family. The two women who had, against all the odds, managed to remain.

  “You did the right thing,” she finally whispered, lips pressed against Rae’s dark hair. “You did the right thing.”

  A gut-wrenching sob tore its way through Rae’s body and she pressed her face into her mother’s shoulder, every inch of her body vibrating with the relief of hearing those words. “Do you really think so?” she whispered. “You’re not just saying that? Because, Mom, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do—”

  Beth pulled back, gripping her firmly by the shoulders and cutting off her words. “You had a choice. Either to kill a man in cold blood…or not to. You chose not. As your mother, how can I be anything but proud of that choice?” She looked briefly around the room, resting on each of the circle of friends. “A choice that all of you supported. Making it a choice you all made yourselves.” Her eyes twinkled as they rested on each one, coming to stop on Gabriel. “It’s no less than what I expect from you.”

  Then she circled back once more to the door. That lovely twinkle vanished on the spot, replaced with a kind of weary endurance that Rae had seen before.

  Rae wished she knew what to say. Wished she knew how to be more like… more like… her mother.

  “Our problem, however, remains.” Beth pressed her jaw tight.

  Yes, it most certainly did. And despite the attempted homicide, despite the trail of smoke stains leading from the foyer to the door to the basement, Rae couldn’t have been more relieved to have her mother standing by her side.

  No matter what came next, they would face it together.

  Mother and daughter. Standing side by side.

  “Do you want to talk to him?” Rae asked quietly, wondering rather morbidly at how that conversation would play out.

  Beth considered for a moment, her lips thinning into a hard line, before she shook her head. “No. I want to think first. Work out some kind of plan of action, before I actually go down there and look at that face.” A faint shudder rippled through her, and for a split second Rae was the one ready to throw protective flames. “He’s tied up securely, with tatù-inhibitors in place?” she asked Devon. “You did it yourself?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answered quietly, eyes still on the floor.

  Despite her later revelation, he obviously couldn’t get over her first stabbing words. They had cut to the core of him, and whether he’d earned tentative forgiveness or not, Rae knew that Devon was probably—he couldn’t help—wondering if she was right.

  Beth’s face softened as she looked him over. “Devon?” He lifted his eyes slowly, struggling to meet hers. “It’s still Beth, okay?”

  His body relaxed the slightest degree, and he flashed her a hint of a smile. “Okay.”

  She smiled warmly, then gestured up the hall. “Fine. Now everyone back to the parlor. We have a plan to come up with, and a holiday dinner to save…”

  And just like that, it was over.

  The gang dispersed, following Beth back to the main house. She grabbed Julian on the way over, kissing him on the forehead in apology, then wiping away the lipstick with a motherly thumb.

  In the end, it was only Rae and Gabriel left standing by the basement door.

  His chest rose and fell quickly as he stared at the door. Whether he completely believed everything he’d said earlier—it was hard to say. The only obvious thing was that it was apparently killing him to simply walk away.

  “Hey,” Rae slipped her hand into his own, giving it a tight squeeze, “you okay?”

  He glanced down at her with a truly unreadable expression, then back up at the door. “Yeah. Sure.”

  Despite all his attempts at bravado, he still swayed slightly where he stood. You couldn’t undo the evils of so much alcohol through strength of will alone, and Rae helped to steady him with a little smile.

  “You know, all that stuff you said? I’m just happy you didn’t slur.”

  His lips curved up in a grin that didn’t meet his eyes. They were still busy with the door. “Me, too. Probably would’ve taken something away from the delivery.”

  Rae laughed softly, but looked back up at him with a truly tender expression. “Does it sound patronizing if I say… I’m really proud of you?”

  There was a slightly awkward pause as both considered it at the same time.

  “Yeah,” Gabriel finally replied. “It does.”

  But he looked up with just a hint of that old sparkle.

  “Don’t be proud, Rae. I wa
sn’t inventing—I was repeating.” A flash of that same tenderness gentled him as well. “It was a lesson I learned from you.”

  Chapter 12

  “You want to tell my dad?”

  For the second time on the same day, the group had retreated to their makeshift war room, gathering around in a circle of chairs. Only this time, there were a few minor changes.

  Beth was seated between Rae and Devon. A hand placed on each of their legs, her body constantly angled towards the door, as if at any moment her not-dead husband might spring forth and wreak havoc on all of them.

  Angel lay on the couch, still passed out cold on the couch, snoring loudly. At one point, Julian had tried to wake her. But she had rolled over in her sleep and slapped him across the face so hard he seemed reluctant to try it again.

  Gabriel also had a chair in the circle, although he seemed in constant danger of going the way of his sister. He was seated by Molly, of all people, and every time he threatened to doze off a tiny surge of electricity shot discreetly into his side.

  But it was Luke who had the spotlight. However unwanted it might be.

  His chair had been nudged coaxingly to the center of the ring as the others angled discreetly around it. It had been almost too subtle at first to notice, but now that the meeting had started the intention was too obvious to miss.

  “Me. My dad.” He looked desperately from face to face as the walls started to close in. “You want me to call my dad right now, and tell him that Simon Kerrigan is tied up in our basement?”

  The decision to tell Mr. Fodder was universal, as it seemed to be the natural solution to all their problems. It had been the first thing out of Beth’s mouth the second they walked back into the living room, but everyone was quick to claim the idea as their own.

  Everyone except Luke.

  “Don’t be silly,” Gabriel shook his head, still caught in the after-effects of his whiskey-induced haze, “we don’t want you to call him. We want you to wait until he comes for Thanksgiving dinner. Then tell him.”

  A look of true panic flickered across Luke’s face, and Rae was quick to intervene.

  “He’s going to know what to do with this,” she said deliberately, hoping that her newfound calm might be catching. “I can’t possibly be expected to make this kind of decision myself, not when it comes to members of my own family. But your dad? He’s the most level-headed, experienced man I’ve ever met. He’ll know what to do.”

  Molly leaned forward sympathetically, hand resting lightly atop her flat stomach.

  “He might even be grateful to you, babe. That you trust him enough to confide this big a secret. That you’re surrendering the responsibility into his hands.”

  Luke slid his fingers up into his wilted mohawk, giving him an even slightly more manic air. “Yeah, or he’s going to say, ‘Luke, what the hell were you possibly thinking?!’” His voice lowered into such a frightfully accurate impression that, for a second, all of them got chills. “Did any of you stop to think that this is going to look an awful lot like that time I failed to tell him Cromfield had returned? You know… that tiny omission?”

  That I did for all of YOU.

  The silent implication was clear.

  Luke had been sticking his neck out for longer than Rae could even remember. Making sacrifice after sacrifice just to protect the people he loved. To find a way to keep them in his life.

  On the one hand, his allegiance with the Knights had kind of demanded it. If he was going to toe the line between the two worlds, it made sense that he would be forced to make certain allowances along the way. But the rest was just Luke.

  He was a good man. One of the best people Rae had ever met, hands down. Even now, fidgeting beneath an uncomfortable spotlight, she knew he would do the right thing.

  Rae swallowed, determined to convince him. “Yeah, but this way, right after you tell him you can hand him a gigantic piece of pie.” She nudged him playfully, hoping to coax a smile. “Crisis averted.”

  He sighed miserably and sank an inch or two lower in his chair. But even with the prospect of the confession looming in front of him, it was impossible not to see the wisdom in the plan.

  For better or worse, Anthony Fodder was a man who could be trusted. Furthermore, he was perhaps the only man in the world who could ensure Simon Kerrigan’s protection until the day of his trial. The Abbey, where he was still located, wasn’t set up like the PC holding cells. It granted access to one person, and one person only. Commander Fodder himself. As long as Simon was under his protection, he would be safe.

  Finally, when the silence could go on no longer, Luke lifted his head. “Do you at least promise that you won’t conjure it? This has to be a homemade… well at least, store-bought pie, okay?”

  Molly jumped forward to wrap her arms around his neck, while Rae and the boys shot each other looks of deep relief.

  Beth, on the other hand, was all business. “Right.” She stood up, clasping her hands. “In that case, we’ve got to make this as seamless a transition as we possibly can. What were you all planning on serving for dinner?”

  “Pizza.”

  The ringing answer came from every corner of the room. Even Angel lifted her head off the couch to chime in, before passing out once more.

  Beth raised her eyebrows carefully, staring them all down in turn. “… Pizza?”

  It did sound a bit childish. Especially the longer she allowed it to hang in the air. Rae gulped and shot Devon a quick look. “Or…we could always do a more traditional version of the meal? You know, turkey, and yams, and potatoes, and such.”

  “Seriously?” Devon dropped his voice to half-volume to speak only to her. “You want the seven of us to cook a Thanksgiving dinner with your dad tied up downstairs? You want the seven of us to try to cook a Thanksgiving dinner—period?”

  She shrugged, suddenly trying not to grin. “We’ve done stranger things.”

  “And how’s Molly supposed to deal with all those smells?”

  “Actually,” Molly said as she perched upon Luke’s lap, “that all sounds incredible.”

  That alone was enough to get Luke on board. Julian was soon to follow, and after a pointed look from Beth Devon hopped on bandwagon as well.

  In the end, all that was left to do was the logistics.

  Beth stood. “Right, well, we’ve got just a day to pull this off.” She began pacing back and forth in front of them like a general. You could take a girl out of the Privy Council, but you could never quite remove that unshakable Privy Council discipline from the girl. “Anthony Fodder will be here first thing in the morning to visit, before we all sit down at noon. That means we’ll need to pick up ingredients and get the house ready this afternoon, if we want to start baking by the evening.”

  Baking by the evening? Exactly how elaborate was this dinner supposed to be?

  Apparently, the boys were thinking the same thing.

  Julian shot Devon a rather startled expression at the prospect of being trapped in the kitchen, to which Devon nodded quickly and leaned forward with his best diplomatic smile. Rae watched from the corner, not missing anything but determined not to say anything until she had to.

  “Beth,” Devon said as he forced his smile to stay friendly, “I’m not sure there’s really that much to be done. I mean… get the house ready? I don’t know what all you’re talking about, but—”

  “There’s a half-burnt mannequin and a flame thrower on the front porch.”

  That settled it.

  The rest of the morning was spent in a flurry of hasty preparation, most of which involved dousing the mansion in enough sanitizing chemicals to clean a small country.

  The windows had to be opened to air the whole thing out, the floors scrubbed until the marble began to shine, and all the boys took turns arguing over who got to ride the enormous lawnmower they’d discovered in the back of the gardener’s shed.

  Rae watched them with a smile from the window, up to her elbows in a sink full of soa
py suds. The house had all the modern amenities you’d expect for the hefty price they’d paid, except for one minor detail. A dishwasher. It was a testament to how un-domesticated the gang had become, that none of them noticed this fact until Beth pointed it out.

  “… Give a bunch of kids a two-million-euro mansion, and they want to fill it with pizza…”

  Rae glanced over her shoulder with a grin as Beth joined her at the sink. One washed, and one dried. An efficient assembly line they did in comfortable silence as they gazed out the window.

  The argument over the mower had progressed beyond the constructs of the natural world. They were using powers now. And they weren’t holding back their punches.

  “You know,” Rae murmured thoughtfully, “as crazy as it sounds…that’s about the most normal I’ve seen them. Right there.”

  Beth followed her gaze to where Gabriel was summoning the machine towards himself from across the lawn, Luke chasing him with the flame thrower.

  “Boys will be boys. That’s pretty much the same across the board.” She chuckled as Julian’s shirt caught on fire, and began wiping down a plate. “You know, there’s something important I neglected to ask you. A question that should’ve been the first one out of my mouth.” She set down the plate, and gestured for Rae to do the same. “How are you doing, honey?”

  How am I doing? That’s a tough one…

  Rae slowly lifted her hands out of the sudsy water as she contemplated where she should even begin. There were so many emotions battling for dominance, it was hard to pick just one of them. In the end, it wasn’t even up to her. The word just popped out of her mouth.

  “Relieved.”

  She didn’t mean to say it. Odds were, she should’ve kept it to herself. But the fact of the matter remained. Despite the chaos simmering just below the surface, the insurmountable problem sitting just a dozen or so feet below…the feeling reigned supreme.

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” she apologized quickly. “That’s probably the very last thing you want to hear right now—”

  “No, not at all.” Beth lay a soothing hand on her arm. “Explain. Talk to me.”