by W. J. May
“Louis Keene has that well in hand,” he answered briskly, eyeing Rae’s zombie face with a bit of a frown. “At any rate, when I got your call this morning about the disappearing agents, I looked into it on my end and it seems that you’re absolutely right. We no longer have only Cromfield to worry about—there’s another entire army to contend with.”
A depressed hush fell over the table, and Carter seemed to register the utter lack of morale for the first time. After casting a quick look at Beth, his entire face brightened up with the same kind of false smile that Devon and Rae had been walking around with all afternoon.
“But never fear,” he cheered them encouragingly, “we have the best and the brightest on our side! I hear one—or was it two—of our own actually conjured an entire house today!”
Rae’s head dropped noiselessly into her stew, not caring about its temperature or the fact that her hair was probably lying in Devon’s stew as well.
Chapter 6
It took Rae a good twenty minutes to scrub the vegetables out of her hair. It would take her years longer to live down the humiliation of having passed out in her own dinner. Who does that? Especially someone with a gazillion tatùs? She muttered a slew of swear words that were perfectly muffled by her hand wiping the water from her face.
“This is my fault.” Devon shook his head sadly. He handed her a towel as he stood off to the side. “I promised I wouldn’t let you drown in your bowl.”
“That’s funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Rae didn’t look at him as she hurled his towel down at the floor and conjured her own instead. “This is your fault.”
The corners of his lips twitched, but he valiantly fought back a smile. “And I intend to take full responsibility for my actions. In fact, the next time we go out on a date, I promise to face-plant right on top of the cheese course.”
Rae rotated slowly around to face him, standing stiff as a statue as little drops of water trailed around a wet circle from her hair. “Oh, I see…you think this is funny.”
Devon’s face screwed up in mock horror. “Are you kidding me?! I almost lost the woman I love today! To minestrone—the one enemy I never saw coming. No, Rae Kerrigan, I don’t think any part of this is funny.”
Her mask of fury cracked a bit, then shattered completely as he swept her up in his arms, tickling her mercilessly as she shrieked and gasped for breath.
This must be what it would be like to date Devon Wardell as a regular human, she thought as she pounded uselessly on his back. She might have just gone limp for all the good it was doing her. The conjuring of the guesthouse had zapped all of her strength, and the near-fatal incident with her soup bowl had zapped whatever was left of her dignity. Her stores were officially depleted and she was running on fumes now. Against Devon Wardell. She felt like a child throwing ribbons at a giant.
“This isn’t fair,” she gasped, grabbing the back of his T-shirt in little fists as he flung her over his shoulder and headed for the bed. “My arms are like jelly—I demand you hold off further attacks until morning.”
He chuckled and lowered her down onto the mattress, yanking away her towel with a casual toss of his hand. It never ceased to surprise her that this sort of behavior was somehow allowed. That she had just promised to be with this man for the rest of her life. She lay there, blushing and grinning as he slipped off his own clothes and climbed in next to her. For a second she was worried he’d start the tickling right back up again, but he didn’t. Instead, he pulled the blanket up to their waists and leaned up on his elbow so he could gently stroke back her hair.
“I understand you’re tired, and I acknowledge this isn’t entirely fair.” His eyes twinkled as his fingers trailed slowly from her hair down her neck. “But there are some attacks that simply can’t wait until morning…”
She burst into a fit of giggles as he rolled on top of her, showering her with a barrage of insistent, relentless kisses. Her eyelids, her nose, her chin, her neck. He held back her struggles with a single hand, pinning both her wrists above her head as he took his time, teasing her playfully all the while.
“Mr. Wardell, if this is your pitiful attempt at seducing me…it won’t work.”
“Pitiful attempt?” His hair spilled into his face as he pulled back with an impish grin. It was longer now than Rae had ever seen it before, tumbling in little waves almost all the way to his chin. It had been quite a while since the gang had any time to focus on such things, much to Molly’s constant chagrin. At this point, they were all looking a bit wilder than usual.
Fortunately, on Devon wild was a good look.
“Why, Miss Kerrigan, I’ll have you know I’m doing this as much for me as for you,” he countered with that roguish smile that had his dimple appearing. The same smile that had made Rae’s toes curl up in delight since she’d first seen it at Guilder, all those years ago. “This might come as a bit of a shock to you, but I’ve actually never once had sex with my fiancée, as my fiancée. Not a single time.”
Rae giggled again, but cast a nervous look at the closed door. Who the hell knew which person in this house might possess super-human hearing? Or if her mom might walk in? Or who else might just assume this room belonged to them as much her?
“Well, maybe that’s because you’ve had a fiancée for just two nights. One was spent battling snakes on the moor, and the other was lost to the recreation of a high-school slumber party.”
He acted like he hadn’t heard her, continuing on with his strategic kisses. “Furthermore, I realized there actually aren’t that many more times that I’m going to get to have sex with a certain Miss Kerrigan. Soon, people will be calling her something else.”
Rae pulled back in sudden seriousness, gazing up at him in shock. His smile froze for a minute, before melting into something else entirely. A nervousness she didn’t quite understand.
“Unless…unless you want to keep your name,” he said quickly. “Which I’d totally support and understand.”
“No, I just—”
“Actually, I wouldn’t understand it in the slightest, but I’d support it either way.”
She caught his face between her hands with a smile. “Devon. Stop. I just…hadn’t put two and two together yet, that’s all.” Her eyes widened in wonder as she tried to imagine.
Rae Wardell.
Mrs. Rae Wardell.
Mrs. Rae Kerrigan-Wardell?
To be honest, she didn’t really know how she felt about that.
“What do you think?” Devon asked softly. “Too weird?”
She let out all her breath in a short laugh, tracing the muscles in his arms as he held his body over hers. “Really weird. The weirdest.”
He tilted his head coaxingly. “Good weird? Or…?”
“I don’t know. It’s just…” she shook her head, “weird. I don’t know why, but it never crossed my mind that there was a possibility I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life as a Kerrigan. It always just kind of felt like a life sentence, you know?”
He grinned sadly and ran his thumb along her cheek. “Yeah, I could see that.”
“But now…” Her voice trailed off as she thought about what it might mean to give up the name. “I’ve spent all this time not fighting the name, but fighting the perception. Trying to turn people around on it. Wear it like a banner instead of letting it wear me. In a lot of ways, this stupid name has been my life’s mission,” she laughed humorlessly. “I don’t know… I guess I just can’t imagine living without it.”
Devon nodded silently, understanding as always. Chances were, he probably had strong feelings on the matter, Rae was sure of that. But he was keeping them temporarily to himself. Giving her a chance to work through things on her own.
In an attempt to lighten the mood, she squirmed around beneath him, weaving up her arms to latch them around his sides. “I mean, how will people know to be afraid of me if I’m no longer branded as a Kerrigan?”
Devon’s face grew abruptly serious. “Honey, you’re for
ever going to be known as the girl who fell asleep in her soup…and survived. I can’t think of anything scarier than that.”
“Oh, that’s it—”
The battle recommenced at once, kissing, wrestling, and tickling on all sides. If it was possible, Rae fared even worse than she had before, although she had rarely felt more motivated to wipe the smug smirk off her fiancé’s perfect face.
“Hey,” she gasped suddenly, “what if you took on the Kerrigan name? Devon Kerrigan. Mr. Devon Kerrigan. Men take on women’s last names these days, too. It’s perfectly—”
“No thanks.” Devon shook his head. “Call me chauvinistic, but I’m not giving up Wardell.”
“To become a Kerrigan?”
He grinned. “And take on all the problems that go with that name?” He reached to tickle her again.
“Stop! Please!” she laughed and then tilted her head as she thought of something. “What was that about earlier? With Cassidy out in the yard?”
“Oh, that.” Devon rolled his eyes and leaned back, giving her a momentary reprieve as he took off his watch and set it on the nightstand. “She was freaking out that she couldn’t get her ink to work during training. Kept insisting that Kraigan had to have stolen it.”
He leaned down and continued kissing her without a second thought, but Rae glanced around the room in sudden horror. “Wait! Cassidy’s tatù?”
Devon caught his breath as Rae pushed him back, pulling the sheets up to her chin. “Babe, I’m sure it’s nothing—”
“My psychotic little brother might have just gotten the ability to go absolutely anywhere he wanted undetected, and you’re telling me it’s nothing?”
“We don’t even know whether or not he took it,” Devon tried to reason. “Cassidy’s always been kind of hit or miss with her power, and right now she’s stressed beyond belief. With any luck, it’s just a simple case of performance anxiety.”
Believing he’d put the matter to rest he bowed his lips to hers once more, but Rae ignored him completely, scooting back all the way to the headboard and squinting out at the seemingly empty room. “He’s here…I know it.”
As if on cue, a window slowly creaked open in the breeze.
Sensing they had reached the point of no return, Devon rolled off of her with a frustrated, yet amused sigh. “Sweetie, there’s a good chance you’re over-reacting here—”
“What did Kraigan say when you confronted him?” she demanded.
Devon froze a second, staring at her like he hadn’t put two and two together. “Actually, I…I couldn’t find him.”
“That’s it!” She held out her arms and promptly conjured a pair of the thickest pajamas her mind could possibly imagine. “Straight to bed. Do not pass go. Do not collect…whatever it is you think you’d be collecting in this situation. Until that little bastard is located and fitted with some kind of permanent bell around the neck, this bed is going to see a lot of sleep, got it, Dev?”
His eyes flicked once more around the room, before he flipped the lights off with a small sigh. “Great. Sleep. At eight-thirty. Perfect.”
He rolled over to say something else, but Rae was already out cold. At least she was faking it enough to almost fall asleep.
With a rueful grin, he lay back down and folded his hands behind his head. “Perfect.”
* * *
When Rae woke the next morning, there was a perfect indent in the bed where Devon had slept the night. Judging by the amount of sunlight streaming into her room, she guessed everyone had decided to let her sleep in after the events of the previous day. Poor Ethan was probably still out like a light.
She yanked back the covers and planted her feet on the floor with a mild wince, still not fully recovered but well on her way. After taking a second to remember why it was she was dressed in a head-to-toe fleece onesie, she conjured herself some black jeans, a silver top, and a sleek leather jacket before heading downstairs. She tried her healing tatù and felt just a tiny bit better. Even the healing tatù wasn’t sure how to deal with the energy she’d used creating the house.
Sure enough, the training sessions were already in full swing. Men and women from both sides, of varying levels of skill, were lined up in a huge circle outside going through the basics with a middle-aged man Rae thought she recognized from the Knights’ war room back at the Abbey.
“Morning,” she said to her mother as she slipped into the kitchen, pouring herself a steaming mug of coffee. “They just keep pouring on in, don’t they?”
She gestured outside to the man, and Beth nodded. “They sure do. We might need you and Ethan to conjure up a second guesthouse before long…” She laughed at the pained look on her daughter’s face and returned to where she was preparing a huge skillet of scrambled eggs.
“I can do that for you, you know,” Rae said with a yawn. “Conjure breakfast, I mean. I’m not really good at cooking.”
“From what I hear, you’re not very good at conjuring breakfast either,” her mother answered lightly, tipping the eggs onto a serving platter before giving her daughter a wink. “Not that I’m judging, of course. I guess I should just be glad that you haven’t fallen asleep yet in these…”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Rae muttered sarcastically, sinking down into a chair as she continued to look at the training exercises through the window. A slight frown creased her forehead as she took another steaming sip. “They never ask me to train with them,” she said, almost to herself.
“What was that?” Beth called, handing off the platter to a dark-haired girl Rae didn’t know, who promptly carried it outside to the picnic tables.
“I said they never have me train with them,” Rae said again, realizing it for the first time. “I don’t think I’m even on the schedule.”
“That’s because you have slightly bigger fish to fry,” Beth said seriously, glancing up as Carter and Devon walked into the room.
“Morning,” Devon said with a smile, slipping into the chair next to hers. She cast him a pointed stare, and he stole a sip of her coffee with a sigh. “No, I haven’t found him yet. But trust me, I’m still looking.” His voice dropped to a low mutter. “I recently got the perfect motivation…”
“Rae,” Carter greeted her stiffly, still getting used to being on a first-name basis. “You’re looking much… cleaner than the last time I saw you.”
Rae felt herself flush a million shades of red and pushed her coffee discreetly across the table, just in case of a repeat performance. Devon took it for himself without a second thought.
“Your mother and I were talking last night, and I have to say, she is absolutely right,” he continued. “You and Mr. Wardell have been selected for a mission on a slightly larger scale, one to which the two of you are particularly suited.”
“If I were a less empathetic person, I might make a joke about cliff-diving right about now,” Rae murmured. Devon turned to her in amazement and she raised her eyebrows sarcastically, already regretting pushing away her caffeine. “What? Too soon?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s a little too soon.”
“Kids, stay on point,” Beth chided, hiding her grin.
“I’m sorry,” Rae turned back to Carter, “what is it you’d like us to do? Break into a museum? Free a rogue agent from prison? Go back to the catacombs beneath the cemetery to search for any details about Cromfield we might have missed?” She glanced at Devon matter-of-factly. “You know it’s been a while since we’ve done any field work in a cemetery.”
He shook his head sagely. “These things have a way of working themselves out in time.”
Beth turned deliberately back to the stove. “Heaven help us…”
Carter fought back a smile, staring between Rae and Devon as though Commander Fodder might have had a point back at the Abbey. They certainly didn’t make them anywhere else in the world like they made them at Guilder.
“Actually, instead of a cemetery, how would you feel about a palace?”
* * *
“This is such an unbelievably bad idea.”
Rae smoothed out the folds in her silk cocktail dress as she and Devon climbed out of a Town Car and made their way across a gravel driveway. Just a few yards away, the burnt auburn stones of Buckingham Palace caught the last rays of the afternoon light.
How Carter had managed to get them an audience with the future King and Queen of England on a day’s notice, Rae would never know. Yes, technically they were responsible for saving Sarah’s life and returning her to her beloved Philip, but there was that whole brain-washing and kidnapping bit somewhere in the middle; two tiny glitches for which the Privy Council might have been thought indirectly responsible. Either way, their request for an audience was immediately granted, and after conjuring clothes that looked like they’d come straight off a runway, instead of straight out of the cramped dresser at the foot of her bed, Rae and Devon had come straight away.
“I’m telling you,” she hissed again, casting a nervous glance at the unblinking guards as she and Devon were ushered on inside, “it’s an epically bad idea.”
“What exactly is so bad about it?” Devon asked, looking like an Armani ad in his hastily-conjured, yet impeccably-fitted suit. “The last time we saw Philip and Sarah they were thanking us profusely for saving Sarah’s life. I can only imagine they’ll be happy to see us.”
Rae cast him a quick incredulous look, then closed her eyes with a groan. Of course, he didn’t remember. It made sense, she supposed. After all, he’d just donated about half his blood to Luke.
“That’s not exactly the last time we saw them,” she muttered, lowering her voice so that, in spite of their growing entourage, only Devon could hear her.
His face tightened as his eyes flicked her way. “What do you mean?”
They were inside now, breezing down a marble hallway with high domed ceilings, the kind of passageway where you could hear a woman coming a mile away from the sound of her high-heels.
“Sarah was at the hospital the day of Luke’s surgery,” Rae explained hastily under her breath. “Technically speaking, the last time she saw you—you were passed out on the couch, half-exsanguinated and flitting in and out of consciousness.”