The Chronicles of Kerrigan Prequel Series Books #1-3: Paranormal Fantasy Romance

by W. J. May

  “We’ve never heard of the show, but it sounds just like our Nicholas.” Andy slapped Nic on the back. “The best part is Nic’s last name is MacGyver.”

  “You’re kidding me!” Rae glanced from Riley to Nicolas in disbelief. Great. Now Molly was going to tell everyone she was psychic. That’s all she needed.

  “No joke.” A relieved-looking Nicholas let out a tentative laugh and started playing with his keychain. Rae noticed a Swiss army knife on it and held back a giggle.

  “Maybe the show was invented by some distant relative who’s getting a big kick out of the story line and the reality versus irony of the show!” Andy said.

  Nic’s face brightened, making him appear even younger than sixteen. “I’m checking it online tonight. I’ll have to get the DVD for my dad for Christmas.”

  While they chatted about the upcoming school year, Riley made mention of a school dance in October and that Guilder always invited the nearby female college, Roe Hampton.

  “Maybe they won’t invite the girls this year since we’re here,” Molly said.

  She sounded so hopeful, Rae felt a little twinge of compassion for her roomy.

  “There are two dances held each year. One in the fall and the other in the spring. It’s been tradition here for as long as the schools have been in existence. The dances are held like balls or masquerades – like they used to have in Tudor times with King Henry VIII. I doubt they’ll stop it because sixteen girls are at Guilder now.” His arm swept the school grounds. “We spend ten months of the year stuck here with all of us freaks, so it’s nice to hang out for a bit with the rest of the world and act normal. You’ll see for yourself. The fall dance is here at Guilder and the spring dance is at Roe Hampton.”

  Molly pouted and crossed her arms. “I prefer being around us freaks rather than those freakin’ girls.”

  Andy laughed and grabbed Molly’s hand to pull her up from her position lounging on the steps. “Come on. Wait until you’ve been here for a year. Then you’ll be begging for some normal human interaction. We’re not allowed to use our ink at the dances, but someone always plays the joker and stirs up some trouble.” Andy winked at Molly. “It’ll be right up your alley.”

  Molly’s face turned red and Rae swore she could almost see steam coming out of her ears. Molly put her hands on her hips and squared off with Andy who had the good sense to look both sheepish and apologetic at the same time, for all the good it did him.

  “And just what exactly do you mean by that?” Molly tilted her chin up, daring him to answer her. Andy sputtered, trying to come up with a good apology to get himself out of the tight spot he’d put himself into, all the while, Molly stood stabbing her finger into his chest and giving him what for in a tirade so non-stop Rae was seriously waiting for Molly to pass out from lack of oxygen. Everyone watched with rapt amusement and was only distracted by a new arrival.

  Julian came toward them from Joist Hall. He walked with an air of confidence, with long, purposeful strides, his lanky artistic fingers constantly moving. Rae thought he tapped a rhythm, or, maybe, drew something in the air. But, she couldn’t be sure because it seemed to be a sub-conscious kind of reaction, something he didn’t really notice he was doing.

  “Where’s Devon?” Andy asked when he came within earshot.

  Rae said a silent thank you to Andy. She’d been thinking the same thing, but was too embarrassed to ask.

  “Having lunch in town with Beth.”

  Rae choked on the water she was drinking.

  “Are you all right?” Andy patted her back.

  “Yeah. The water just went down the wrong pipe.” She pretended to take another small sip. She heard Haley mumble something sounding like “faker”.

  “Bummer, Devon’s got a girlfriend?” Molly shrugged and turned to Julian. “What kind of car do you drive?”

  “A Jaguar.” He said it as a matter of fact, and didn’t appear to be bragging.

  “Is it fast?”

  Andy laughed. “Have you ever heard of a slow Jag?” Molly punched his arm hard enough to make him wince.

  Riley snickered. “Julian comes from very old money, with a lot of new money on top of it.”

  “Shut up.” Andy scowled at Riley. “Ignore him. He’s just jealous. Julian’s actually a very kind, gentle guy, not at all a snobbish rich kid.” He looked at Haley when she snorted. “Don’t start thinking I’m gay. I’m not. I definitely prefer girls.” He glanced at Rae. “Julian’s got an extremely big heart, which I’m sure some nasty gold-digging chick’s going to take advantage of one day.” Andy said the last bit while pointedly looking at Haley, who managed to look both innocent and evil at the same time.

  I REALLY don’t like her, Rae thought to herself. Since Andy didn’t appear to like her either, Rae decided that put him on the positive side of her mental score card. She was trying to decide who might be trustworthy and who she should look out for. Haley was definitely on the negative side of the list. Andy just might be on the positive side.

  “Awww…shucks,” Riley taunted. “You watching out for your mates? You sound more like a dad than a friend.” The jury was still out about Riley, but Rae was thinking so far he seemed to be leaning more toward the negative side.

  “I’d quit now,” Julian warned, his face turning from gentle to very hard – almost scary – making Rae wonder what was behind it. What does he know that would make him give a look like that? “I heard Andy’s the leader of his wolf pack.”

  “Whatever.” Andy replied petulantly. Riley’s eyes slid sideways to Andy, but he kept his mouth shut. Rae filed the entire encounter away for later analysis. She knew there was something lying underneath the emotions and the words, and it might be important, but she had no idea what it was or how to go about finding out. However, if nothing else, it was information, and Uncle Argyle always said “information is power.”

  “Can you take us for a ride, Julian?” Molly asked.

  Leave it to Molly to change the subject, Rae thought with a smile.

  The rest of the afternoon flew by, even with her constant inner voice asking questions and making observations. Rae participated when asked a question, but spent most of the time listening to everyone else. By dinner, her ears couldn’t handle anymore jokes, or warnings about which teacher to avoid, which class you could slack off in, who smelled funny, and whose hands not to shake. She ate as fast as she could, without appearing rushed. All day, she’d felt like she’d been playing some twisted live action game, in which she didn’t actually know who her opponent or opponents were, or what the goal was, or how to play, kind of like playing chess with a blindfold on. She’d been hyper-aware of every twitch, cough, laugh, sidelong glance and comment made by anyone within ear shot and now she just wanted to go to bed.

  Rae left dinner early, hoping no one followed her. She needed to clear her head and relax. Outside, as she walked the same path she had with Lanford the night before, the fresh air caressed her cheeks, cooling her. She inhaled the scent of fresh-cut grass and evergreen trees. In front of the Oratory, she settled on the cast iron bench. Resting her elbows on her knees, she dropped her head into her hands.

  Could things get any crazier? She had so many questions. What was so important about her parents, and could their gifts have had something to do with the fire? Shoot, what were they marked with? Why hadn’t her uncle told her anything before, not even when she received the scholarship from Guilder? And how could she get answers to all these questions?

  Rae rubbed her temples. Thinking seemed to cause more confusion in her already chaotic brain.

  “Everything all right?” Devon’s concerned voice broke through the night.

  Rae popped her head up and looked in the direction of the sound. She hadn’t heard him approach and blinked in surprise to see him standing at the end of the bench.

  “I’m fine… I guess.” She didn’t have the energy to lie and she needed to confide in someone. Could she trust him? Did she have a choice? More question
s, ugh! She shook her head and decided to just go with it. “I’m just a little confused and very overwhelmed.” Her brow furrowed as she rubbed her temples. “Or maybe very confused and a little overwhelmed.”

  He sat down beside her, but said nothing.

  Rae sighed and dropped back against the bench. “My head’s pretty messed up at the moment. And, crazy as this may sound, I’m glad my birthday isn’t until November.”

  “November fifteenth is going to be a huge day for you. I think, actually, it will be for the entire college and our society.”

  Great, more cryptic and more pressure. On top of that, Rae didn’t feel like explaining her birth certificate was wrong. Her mother had gone into labor early and had Rae at home. Two days later she’d gone to the hospital to register the birth. The hurried doctor had written the wrong date on the birth certificate. It had never been a big deal, even when she started school, and all the teachers constantly celebrated her birthday on the fifteenth. Rae never felt the need to correct it. Now, she felt that keeping it a secret might be a really good idea.

  Devon stared at her, almost expectantly.

  For what, she had no clue, so she tried another topic. “The headmaster said you’ll be tutoring me two evenings a week.” Rae wasn’t sure how to turn the statement into a question and now wondered if Devon even wanted to tutor her. How embarrassing it would be if he didn’t! She hoped it wasn’t a chore for him.

  “Yeah. He asked if I could help you with some of the beginning gift and skill classes. Offer an ear or mouth when needed.” He smiled, showing off the cute dimple in his right cheek. She couldn’t help but notice again.

  The idea of borrowing his lips or ears made her face grow hot. She stared at her hands, tracing the palm of one with a finger on the other. “Thanks. I appreciate that. I, um, I feel a bit lost at the moment.”

  “What’s bothering you?” Devon tilted his head toward her.

  “How long do you have? We’d be here for hours if I tried to answer that question.” Rae tried to joke, but it came out sounding sarcastic. She cleared her throat and switched to a more serious tone. “I want to know what everyone knows about me. I’m obviously missing something here. What’s so important about my past that makes everyone so quiet and makes me feel like a freak show?”

  Devon ran his fingers through his short, dark hair. “I’m not sure I can answer you correctly. I only know what I’ve heard. Maybe Lanford’s a better person to talk to.”

  I can’t take this crap anymore. I need to know now. Rae looked directly at him. “Can you tell me what you’ve heard? I spoke with Lanford last night, but I want someone my age explaining it in normal words.”

  Devon took a deep breath and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He paused a few moments. “Everyone knows who you are because of your past. You’re the girl who survived the fire. To your hometown and the rest of the un-inked world, you were the little miracle girl who somehow walked out of the flames unharmed.” He swallowed. “Nobody knows exactly what happened that day. If you don’t remember…” He gave her a questioning look. Rae shook her head, not ready to share something so personal. “You do know both your parents were gifted, right?”

  “Lanford said that last night. He also said people with the gift don’t usually marry other gifted people. What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s like some unwritten code or rule. I’m not one hundred percent sure why. No one really talks about it.” He shrugged. “It just isn’t done. I do remember your parents being the example often brought up if someone asked. I’ve also heard if two people with ink have children, it could possibly screw the gift up or change it. I’m not talking about making a unique ink. I’m talking about something darker…dangerous.”

  Rae straightened. “So the school’s worried I might become some kind of monster because of my parents?”

  “That’s not what I meant.” Devon put his hands up in a defensive, placating gesture. “Like I said, I don’t know much about this. I just meant it can change the form of the gift. I don’t know of any scientific studies or anything done on children from two inked parents. There aren’t a lot of…you…them.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Our society keeps our ink hidden from the rest of the world, even the ones we love.”

  Impossible. How could you keep this from someone you really care about? “So what gifts did my parents have that might go haywire on me?” Rae couldn’t believe something bad was going to happen to her. She’d lost her parents; what could be worse than that?

  “You honestly don’t remember anything about them?”

  Rae sighed. “I remember stuff. Most of it’s bits and pieces, like a dream from a long time ago. Or I see a photo my Uncle Argyle has and then I can remember the day the picture was taken.” She shuddered, still able to vividly recall the stink of burning. “The fire happened about ten years ago, and I was only six.”

  “What do you remember about your mom?”

  “My mom?” Rae smiled. A warm sense of longing filled her chest. She was glad Devon asked about her. Rae didn’t spend enough time thinking about her mom nowadays. “I remember her as the sweetest person in the entire world. She doted on me, always protective and loving.” Rae closed her eyes, trying to snatch a feeling or memory from her brain. “Whenever we were together, I felt warm, like it was always bright with her around.” I can feel that heat inside of me, just thinking about her. She blinked and watched Devon.

  He smiled. “Your mother’s ink was the sun, so that might explain it.”

  “The sun?” Rae pictured a sun with squiggly lines coming out of it. “Probably a really cool tattoo.” She wished she’d known and paid more attention as a kid.

  Devon laughed, deep and husky, sending a shiver through her body. “A tattoo’s just ink. What we have is tatù.”

  “Why do you say it so funny?” Rae’d heard the weird enunciation several times now.

  “Tattoo is just what it means...a regular, boring mark someone paid to get. Taa – toe. You just say the first part long, the second part rhymes with shoe. It’s the original Gaelic term.”

  Rae laughed. “Do you always pucker your mouth and scrunch your face when you try to pronounce words? You look like you just ate a lemon.”

  “I do?” His face pinched again. “Crap, I do.”

  They smiled at each other. She enjoyed the banter, but turned serious again when the moment passed. “I wonder what mine’ll be.”

  “The ink’s just a picture. It’s what you do with it that makes you stronger and develop as an individual. The type of person you are…what you’re good at, will be blended with the gift, as well. It usually doesn’t come all at once, either. It grows with you as you mature.”

  “What could my mom do?” Rae asked.

  “I’m not sure what her powers were. I just know her ink-art.”

  “Then why does everyone know about my past if people know my mom’s ink but not what she could do?”

  “They know about your mom ‘cause of your…your dad.” Devon suddenly seemed very interested in the night sky, the Oratory building, anywhere but looking at her. “It’s because of him,” he whispered.

  “What about my dad?” She leaned forward so he had to face her. Her heart hammered, echoing inside her chest when she saw the fear in his eyes.

  Chapter 6

  Lessons of the Past

  Devon rubbed the stubble on his chin. “What do you remember about Simon Kerr – sorry, I mean, your dad?”

  Rae stared at Devon. She couldn’t figure how he’d hidden the scared look on his face so fast. One moment it was there, and the next…it was like he’d closed the shutters over his emotions. “He wasn’t around much, to be honest. He always seemed to be gone for work, or whatever he did.” Rae tried to think, cocking her head to one side as she sifted through her dreams and memories. She straightened when she realized they were the same – her dreams were actually her memories. It’d all been real.

  Shifting slightly, Devon rema
ined silent beside her.

  “It’s funny now,” Rae murmured. “I’ve never noticed before, but it’s like every memory I have of him seems to be about magic tricks or some sorta dream. One time, I remember being very little, maybe three or four at the time. It’s one of my first memories, but I remember he made my toys float around the room. He could make my puppets dance without touching them. Another time, he made the rain go away when I wanted to play outside.” She remembered sitting by the large bay window at the back of the house, one moment singing the old nursery song and the next, the sun burst through the clouds.

  Rae coughed as another memory rushed forward. One she’d tried to suppress a long time ago. “When I was about five…he got mad at me one night. I’d been crying about monsters under my bed. He came into my room really pissed off, and told me the monsters that lived in our house didn’t hide under beds or in closets. They were out in the open and fearless. I, of course, started screaming because what five year old isn’t terrified of monsters? And now he’d just told me they weren’t scared of anything and didn’t have to hide. Basically, they were going to get me.” What kind of person would do that to a child?

  She exhaled, trying to calm the anxiety rising inside her that came with the memory. She tucked a long, Shirley Temple curl behind her ear and flipped her hand. “Anyway, my mom came running into the room. She was so ticked, and they started fighting, which only scared me more. In the end, she picked me up and carried me to her bed. I stayed there all night, and when I woke up in the morning, my dad had already left. Not like he was around much, anyway.”

  Devon reached out toward her, but Rae shifted so he couldn’t touch her shoulder. She wasn’t looking for pity. Staring straight ahead, she contemplated that night so long ago. It had always seemed more like a bad dream than a memory. She’d been terrified to sleep with the closet doors open and begged her mom to put stuff under her bed. She also slept with a night-light for years after she’d arrived in America. It seemed so long ago, nothing but little kid stuff. She brought her gaze back to Devon.