by W. J. May
“Please,” he scoffed, “this place would fall to pieces without me. But enough about me! I’m so glad to see you! This place is so quiet when you’re gone!”
Rae cocked her head to the side. “Pardon me?”
He lowered his voice conspiratorially and flashed her an ostentatious wink. “Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but this building hasn’t seen so much drama since old Mrs. Flannery moved out in the seventies. It’s like living in a sit-com!”
Yeah…the kind of sit-com that starts out funny and cute before the cast bands together against the troublesome main character and throws her out on her ass so they can have normal lives…
“Well, I’m glad to keep you entertained.” She headed into the elevator and pushed the button for the top floor. “Wish me luck.”
He beamed back, and she could have sworn she heard him mutter something that sounded suspiciously like, “Team Devon,” before the doors closed.
Great. Even the peanut gallery over there has chosen a side.
She watched with growing anxiety as the numbers counted up to her floor, wondering absentmindedly how the strange spectacle that had become her life must look to a passive observer like Raphael. An ever-changing stream of visitors coming and going at all hours of the night. Tears and blood and scrapes and bruises? Not to mention, Victor Mallins’ unintentional impersonation of Jack the Ripper showing up at the crack of dawn?
Poor Raphael probably thought they were running some kind of sex club. Or fight club. Or possibly the strangest book club in all the UK.
She tried not to think about it too much as the doors dinged and she slowed to a stop.
The horde of angry butterflies in her stomach reached critical mass, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to be calm. Billy-the-cab-driver was right. She was overreacting. This was her home, and no matter what had happened, these were her friends.
With any luck, no one had even noticed she was gone…
“RAE KERRIGAN!”
All the air rushed from Rae’s chest with a strangled yeep, and she froze in the entryway.
Six angry people were staring back at her.
It was even worse than she had imagined. They were grouped in pairs—Molly and Luke, Angel and Julian—with Devon and Gabriel standing as far away from each other as possible on the ends. It was Molly who had screamed when she came in, so Rae focused all attention on her, carefully avoiding the eyes of the others.
What were they going to do? Trial by fire?
She had to admit, as bad as she’d pictured this moment she hadn’t anticipated anything so…public. Her transgression with Gabriel had been private, as was her split with Devon. Now, given the fact that since they were a super-spy crime-fighting team and everything each of them did affected the others, she had expected a certain level of animosity. She had disrupted the harmony of the team, so she deserved some fall-out.
But she had expected it to be silent. Passive aggressive. A dirty look here—a sharp reprimand there. And then it would be finished. Balance would be restored.
She hadn’t expected anything like this. The six of them lined up like a firing squad? Really?
“Um…hey,” she started uncertainly, keeping her eyes firmly on Molly while watching Devon in her periphery all the while. “What are you guys—”
“Where the hell have you been?!” Molly interrupted.
For the first time, Rae glanced curiously at Angel. As the person who had basically talked her into leaving, she would have expected that Angel would have told them she’d be gone.
“I went to see my mom for a few—”
“Yeah, we know you went to Scotland.” Molly crossed her arms over her chest and raised a dangerous eyebrow. “I’m talking about after.”
All the color drained from Rae’s face. That same little stone, still burning a hole in her pocket, felt like it was dragging her down through the floorboards, straight into hell.
How could they have possibly known? Did Julian have a vision?
When it became clear that Rae was in no condition to answer, Molly tossed back her hair with a rather dramatic roll of the eyes. “Your mother called. She’s been worried sick.”
Rae’s mouth fell open in confusion. “My mother…?”
Then it suddenly clicked.
Of course! How many times had Mom told her to check in the moment she touched back down in London? She’d done all but write it on Rae’s hand. And then to have radio silence?
As a Kerrigan? With their family’s history? Radio silence was never a good thing.
She thought guiltily of her cell phone—undoubtedly buried somewhere in the dark recesses of her purse, the battery completely drained. Truth be told, it hadn’t crossed her mind for a single moment while she was at Dunnett Head to let anyone know where she was. The idea of direct parental supervision was still something she was getting used to. That and the concept of ‘checking in.’
“She called me about five hundred times,” Molly continued in a huff, and gestured to the rest of the group. “Each of us. And that’s a conservative estimate. Said that you were supposed to have landed two days ago? She thinks you’ve been freaking kidnapped or murdered or something, Rae! She wanted Carter to activate the Privy Council—”
“No need to activate the Council.” Rae raised her hands quickly, a bit fuzzy on what ‘activating the Council’ would actually mean. “I’m totally fine. No kidnapping. No murder.”
Even from across the room, she saw Devon’s shoulders relax a bit in relief. She lifted her eyes tentatively to see him, but Molly stepped quickly into her line of sight.
“It’s not exactly a stretch for her to have thought that, you know. You’re a Kerrigan, Rae. That means no sudden world-changing movements, and absolutely no disappearing off the grid without a trace. Honestly…” Her blue eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “And you owe me about five hundred rollover minutes on my phone.”
Rae nodded quickly, but in spite of her friend’s anger she couldn’t help but feel immensely relieved. They weren’t standing here to confront her. They hadn’t come because they knew anything about her time in the Scottish Highlands. They were simply here because they thought she had fallen prey to some tragic, fiery demise.
Kid stuff! That was something she could work with!
A spray of electric blue sparks shot from Molly’s hand, setting a nearby rug on fire. “Are you actually smiling right now?! Tell me you’re not smiling, Rae, or so help me—”
“I’m not smiling,” Rae answered quickly, fighting to keep her face clear of emotion as Luke got a glass of water from the kitchen and automatically put out the fire. “I’m sorry, I just…” her eyes flicked over the group, before she dropped them quickly to the floor, “I’m fine. I just forgot to call. Sorry.”
For a second, nobody moved.
Then there was a sudden break in the ice, and the room visibly relaxed.
“See—I told you,” Angel tossed back her long white hair, “forgetful—not dead.” She turned to Julian with a seductive grin. “So can we go home now? I have a couple rather interesting ideas about how you and I can spend the rest of the afternoon…”
“Where did you go, anyway?” Molly asked in an only slightly less irritated tone. She sank down into an arm chair and threw her legs over the side. “After you left your mom’s?”
Rae shifted nervously. “Oh, you know…just driving around…”
Her mind scrambled to come up with a way to explain things further, but fortunately Molly had lost interest in the question almost as soon as she said it, turning instead to talk with Luke, who had successfully doused the flames. Julian flashed her a similar inquisitive glance, his dark eyes searching hers, but then Angel stroked the side of his face and he turned away with a grin, leaving Rae standing in a silent triangle with the last two people in the world she had expected to see.
Devon’s eyes were fixed on the wall behind her, refusing to make contact, but Gabriel was glaring at her full-on. Befor
e Rae could say anything to either one of them, he pushed out the door past her, knocking hard into her shoulder on the way.
Angel detached herself from Julian long enough to stare after him with worried eyes. When Rae flashed her a helpless glance, she shrugged and murmured, “We thought you were in serious trouble. It’s not like he wouldn’t come.” Her eyes clouded once more. “But that doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it…”
Before Rae even had a chance to process this, Devon picked his jacket up off the kitchen counter and slipped it over his arms. “See you at home, Jules,” he said quietly as he headed out.
There was an awkward moment as he passed by Rae, still huddled in the door frame, but when her skin flamed a humiliating shade of crimson, he couldn’t help but smile.
“Calm down, Kerrigan. You’ll give yourself a heart attack.”
She blushed even deeper, but stared up at him with a tentative grin. “I’m just surprised to see you here…”
“What was I going to do? Not come?”
Her shoulders fell with a little sigh, and as much as she’d been dying to see him since the moment she left, she suddenly found it very hard to meet his gaze. “I just thought you might want to have a little—”
“Rae.” He dropped his voice several octaves, so that no matter the casually prying eyes in the kitchen, they were the only two people who could hear. “I was clear that night in the park. You know exactly how I feel about you. Of course I came.” Without seeming to think about it, he leaned a few inches forward, staring deep into her eyes. But as quickly as it had happened, he remembered himself and backed away. “I’m just happy you’re alright,” he said formally, clearing his throat and pulling open the door. “See you around, Kerrigan. Keep your phone on.”
See you around, Kerrigan.
A poor substitute for a Devon Wardell kiss goodnight, but who was she to complain?
He slipped into his tatù and was down the stairs before she could even turn around to say goodbye. It was probably for the best, as she was having a rather impossible time controlling her face right now. The corners of her eyes stung with forbidden tears, and she turned around before anyone could else see, hiding them under the guise of picking up her purse.
While that might have been enough to fool Luke and Angel, Molly and Julian saw through it at once. They let her cross to her room without question, though; either too frustrated, too polite, or too merciful to confront her with anything right then.
She slipped inside, shut the door behind her, and collapsed on the bed, feeling as though the entire world had flipped on its head.
How had everything gotten so complicated so quickly? How had she let things get so messed up? A few stray tears spilled down her cheeks and she muffled a sob in her pillow.
In what universe would Devon not kiss her goodnight?
As if to further torment her, the mysterious little stone rolled out of her purse and came to a stop against her shoulder. She picked it up and turned it over again with a frown, tracing her fingers over the inscription.
Personal dramas aside, the others needed to know about this. The Council needed to have the final piece. There were urgent things that needed to be done, except…
She jerked the blanket up over her head.
…except, until she could go outside without crying, all that would just have to wait.
Chapter 2
It took forever to fall asleep that night and once she did, Rae kept tossing and turning with the same repeating dream.
It started out simply enough…
She was walking through the grounds of Guilder. School friends and faculty drifted in and out, each one pointing her towards the Oratory with strange, solemn faces. She followed along obediently, not quite scared, but worried over what could be waiting inside. Pushing open the large entrance door, she walked down the black and white marbled hallway to the large room, coming to a stop in the center of it beneath the high, domed ceilings.
Every seat in the room was full, just like the day of her graduation performance. Each person sat on the edge of their chair, every eye trained on her.
She rotated slowly around as a series of nervous chills ran up her back. What was she doing here? Why had they brought her? What the heck was everyone waiting for?
Then Devon walked purposefully towards her from across the other side of room. He’d come from one of the carved wooden walls, a hidden door from the Privy Council tunnels.
Her body relaxed, and she brightened with a hopeful smile. If Devon was here it couldn’t be anything too terrible, could it? He’d never let anything happen to her if it was in his control.
Except Devon’s face looked just as grave as the others.
Her smile faded the closer he got, and by the time he was standing in front of her she was bracing herself for whatever was to come. “Dev, what is it? What’s going on?”
His blue eyes stared intently into hers, before he answered in a strange voice; a voice that was too low and distant to be his own. “I’m sorry, Rae. I didn’t know…” He pressed something cold into her hands and began walking away.
“Wait! What are you talking about!? What didn’t you know?!” She tried to run after him, but her feet were rooted to the ground, unable to move. “Devon—wait!”
Nevertheless, even as she called to him, he faded into the mist at the other side of the room. Another man walked out in his place; a tall man with thick muscles and a broad chest, bright blue eyes and short, curly hair. He came to a sudden stop in front of her, and stared just as intently as Devon had.
Her own memories were corrupted with age, but there was not a shadow of doubt in her heart as to who he was.
“Dad?”
His eyes warmed, but his face was stern. “There’s no time, Rae. Get ready!”
There was a metallic scrape, and she looked down with a start. It was then that she realized he was holding the same thing Devon had handed to her. A knife.
He pulled it slowly from its sheath, and her body chilled. Acting on instinct, she reached down and pulled out her own, backing away as he took a step towards her.
“Are you really going to do this?” she whispered, her eyes flickering to the screaming, cheering crowd. “Are you really going to fight your own daughter?”
But Simon’s eyes weren’t on Rae. They were focused on something just behind her back. Something coming in fast.
“Rae—look out!”
She whirled around, but by that time it was already too late. The silver handle of a knife stuck out three inches from her stomach, and her shirt soaked slowly through with blood. In a daze, she lifted her head to see the person standing in front of her—his hands still gripping the handle. Her eyes dilated in anticipation as he slowly removed his hood.
Then he ripped out the knife and she fell to her knees with a gasp.
“No!” she cried. “It’s—”
With a half-strangled shriek, Rae bolted up in bed, clutching her stomach where the knife had been just moments before. Her fingers pressed against her skin as she fought to remember the face of the man. It was someone she had seen before.
Someone she knew very well…
But just like a dream, the harder she tried to remember the faster it slipped from her.
All that was left was a panting girl, a mess of tangled sheets, and a screeching alarm clock she hadn’t remembered setting.
Instead of simply silencing it, she fired a strategic bolt of lightning—Molly-style—and shattered the thing against the far wall. It was six a.m.; far too early for her taste, but she had made a vital decision last night before going to sleep. That decision required her to be out of the house before anyone realized what was going on.
Quiet as a mouse she got up, conjured herself some fresh clothes, and took a steadying look in the mirror. Lifting her shirt above her stomach, she turned this way and that.
See? Nothing there. Just a dream.
But a nagging feeling of dread followed her about as she circ
led through the room, pulling out clothes and toiletries and throwing them onto the bed. When she had gathered a big enough pile, she conjured herself two suitcases and stuffed everything inside. She was going on a little trip today. One where she intended to find out some serious answers.
Packed and ready faster than she thought it would take, she double-checked her phone’s battery that she charged the night before. It was good to go. Glancing once at her half-hearted attempted to make her bed, she crept from her bedroom and shut the door silently behind her.
Try as she might to shake it, her mind was still stuck on the dream. It wasn’t the first time she’d had it, but it was definitely the most vivid time, leaving her with a sickening feeling she couldn’t explain.
Who was the man who’d stabbed her? And why had her father warned her it was coming?
Furthermore, why had—
“Devon!” she half-whispered, half-hissed in surprise. She stopped short when saw him standing in the kitchen behind her, silently watching her with sapphire eyes. He was dressed in workout shorts and a black tank, the kind she secretly loved to see him wear. While he reclined casually against the counter, his posture seemed a little too intentionally relaxed to be realistic. He was as startled to see her as she was to see him.
“Sorry,” she gasped, putting her hand to her chest. “You scared me.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t hear me,” he said lightly, eyes flickering over her bags. “I thought you said you usually used my fennec tatù as your default.”
“Yeah,” she stammered, tucking her hair nervously behind her ears, “I usually do…” In all honesty, she was surprised to realize she hadn’t been. Most of the time, she chose what ink she wanted to slip into—but on rare occasions, occasions when she needed it the most—her body switched tatùs involuntarily.
What puzzled her now wasn’t that her body had made the switch. It was that it had switched into Charles’ ability.
The ability to heal.
Without stopping to think about it, her hands drifted down to her stomach.