Time Piece: Paranormal, Tattoo, Supernatural, Romance (The Chronicles of Kerrigan Sequel Book 2)

by W. J. May

  What’s the point in having a psychic for a best friend, if he doesn’t see THIS coming? She shot Julian the thought mentally, hoping he got it.

  Devon elbowed her hard in the back—hard—the way he always did when she failed to show the proper respect to those in positions of authority. But she ignored him. This time, it was a fair question. Even Keene had the wherewithal to look embarrassed. Sitting beside him, Simon merely smiled.

  “I’m sorry for the short notice,” Keene apologized, opening the door and taking a step out of the car. “Trust me. This wasn’t the way I wanted to do things either.” For a second, he glanced around the property. While most people who did so looked impressed, Keene didn’t. Not only did he have a similar property of his own, but there was something appraising in the way he was considering. A moment later, he turned back with a nod.

  “What did I tell you, Louis?” Simon followed him out of the car, shivering slightly as he stepped onto the gravel drive. Since the day he’d been discovered in the factory cell, he had not yet managed to obtain anything warmer for himself than a pair of jeans and a thin sweater. It was a fact that everyone around him, Rae included, had selectively failed to see. “It’s perfect, no?”

  Keene shot a sharp look behind him, but nodded again. “It’ll do.”

  By now, Rae was beginning to feel a bit like she was on a TV show. One of those pranking ones where every move was captured by a host of hidden cameras. “Well that’s great, but, uh… Louis?” She cocked her head pointedly to the side. He did, technically, work for her after all. “You want to clue me in on what the heck’s going on?”

  His eyes returned to her as his shoulders stiffened with a silent sigh. “When you went to the warehouse the other morning to speak with your father, you were followed by the press.”

  Obviously. I seem to remember escaping them as a dog.

  “Now that’s all well and good,” Keene continued. “You’re the President of the Privy Council—you’re allowed to visit whomever you want. However, the press is a bit of a problem.”

  Devon stepped forward, catching on faster than the rest of them. “They never left,” he surmised.

  Keene met his eyes for a moment, then nodded slowly. “They’ve laid siege to the facility. Surrounding it from all sides. Banging on the walls and demanding Simon Kerrigan’s head.”

  Rae chanced a peek at her father, but Simon looked supremely nonplussed. In all likelihood it was a cheer he had heard many, many times before.

  “At any rate, we had to get him out of there. Not only were a few of the more radical ones starting to use their powers to try to get inside, but the warehouse itself is in the middle of the fishing district. It was beginning to make a scene. Threatening to attract the common world press.”

  Common world.

  Despite the last few years that Rae had spent living inside her supernatural bubble, it was a phrase she hadn’t heard until very recently. The novelty of it tickled her for some reason. Like the ‘real’ world didn’t know what was going on. How could they not? Or maybe they just simply choose to ignore it. The thought made her giggle again.

  Another discreet elbow in her back, Rae started nodding along with the others. “Alright, well…good call.” She averted her eyes uncomfortably. “And I’m sorry about the press, Mr. Keene. Truth be told, I took such a nonsensical route to get there I’m surprised as hell that anyone was able to follow along.”

  If they were following her… they’d have stopped first at the Oratory in Guilder, then the PC offices, then at the Abbey. She would have noticed them for sure. Wouldn’t she have? Even if she had been distracted, a tatù would have picked up on her being followed, right? She was beginning to question her decision to see her father without letting the Council know.

  Keene shook his head dismissively, then circled them back to the point he’d been trying to make. “Which brings me to the Council’s request.” He paused hesitantly, and for a moment looked truly sorry to be standing there. “Please keep in mind, Rae, this was not my doing. In fact, I voted strongly against it.”

  Rae was getting more and more nervous by the second. She didn’t like the way that her father was again in such proximity to her home. And she didn’t like the way that Devon, who was always the first to pick up on these sorts of things, was already shaking his head in refusal.

  “The trial’s been expedited to the end of this week. That’s only three days away.” Keene looked between father and daughter. “In the meantime, the Council is specifically requesting that the prisoner remain here. Under your watch. Under your protection.”

  Watch, before protection. An interesting distinction. But hardly the least of Rae’s problems.

  “A task for which I’m uniquely qualified?” Rae quoted in shock, repeating his original statement. “And what is that unique qualification, Keene? Genetics? For more reasons than I can even count, this should be the last place in the world that Simon should stay until the trial.”

  Devon and the others who were standing behind them were quick to agree with her. But just one look at Keene’s face, and Rae knew it was no use. The Council had already voted. Simon was already there.

  “I’m the president. Why was I not included in the Council vote?” She ignored the smile that popped up on her father’s face as she argued with Keene. He clearly wanted her to impose her power—whether it was tatù or political. “I…” She let her voice trail off. She wanted to argue. Simon should be somewhere else. However, it did actually make sense.

  Yes—the press would have a field day if they ever found out. Yes—the angry mob that was currently banging on the walls of the warehouse could just as likely go to Kent. And yes—it was the very worst thing in the world to be seeing Simon Kerrigan again. After…everything.

  But at the same time, both Keene and the Council were only using the same logic that Rae had used herself when she first brought Simon there. The same logic that both Molly and Luke used when they’d decided to stay.

  This house contained the best and the brightest. The strongest people of them all.

  Who better to watch a fugitive? To protect him?

  “I didn’t want to even ask you,” Keene said quietly, acknowledging her distress with a genuine sympathy that seemed to define him. “But you understand why he’s here, don’t you?”

  Rae shot Simon a quick look. Then deliberately turned her eyes away. “I understand. But I don’t have to like it.”

  At this point, Gabriel melted away back inside the house. Instead of taking his usual place near the front, he had been hovering at the far periphery of the gang. The second he heard Rae’s words, her silent acceptance, he’d vanished completely. Rae didn’t miss him leaving. Her heart broke for him and the PTSD he had to go through again. Like a nightmare that never ended.

  Keene, however, looked extraordinarily relieved. “That’s wonderful news.” He nudged Simon a step forward, like an unwilling babysitter eager to pass off a willful child. “I’ve leaked to several prominent papers that he was moved to a holding facility in Eastern Wales. It’s one we’ve used before, and it would make sense that he would go there now. With any luck, that’ll keep them off your trail until the end of the week.”

  Three days. Rae and Simon locked eyes. Just three days.

  With a heavy heart, but a sudden stab of determination, Rae stepped forward silently and took Simon by the sleeve, pulling him across the unspoken line back to their side. “With any luck,” she repeated simply.

  Keene nodded, bid them a quick farewell, and got back into the car. Racing down the driveway like he was afraid she was going to change her mind.

  The group stared after him for a long moment before Rae finally forced her eyes to her father.

  His expression had barely changed the entire conversation. Just when she had pressed her position with the Council. But other than that, not the slightest deviation from the time of her initial refusal to her eventual acceptance. Only now, as Keene’s car vanished over the edge o
f the horizon, was there a spark of life in his eyes.

  Which was slightly dampened by the fact that he was still shivering.

  Rae waved her hands through the air, conjuring a thick overcoat. Without saying a word, she draped it lightly over her father’s shoulders. The shivering stopped. “Come on,” she said and sighed. “Let’s get you inside.”

  * * *

  The first thing Rae did was test out the tatù-inhibitors in the basement herself. Instead of a cursory inspection she stayed down there a good fifteen minutes, running through hundreds of abilities in her arsenal just to make absolutely sure.

  Not that it was supposed to have mattered.

  She realized, as she paced around the room, that Simon had been fitted with an ankle monitor. She’d noticed it when he stepped out of the car, but it hadn’t registered until she was in the basement. This device wasn’t like the standard tracking device that the ‘common world’ gave their prisoners. It was something much, much more.

  Originally conceived and designed by their very own Nicholas MacGyver, it contained the same ink-repelling equipment that was in the inhibitors themselves. Only, instead of downing an entire room, it applied only to the person wearing the device.

  As long as it was on his skin, Simon Kerrigan was just a man.

  Nothing to fear. Nothing to lose.

  It was a concept Rae, and apparently the rest of the house, was having trouble coming to terms with. When she finally marched back up the stairs, confident that the room was successfully immune to all forms of ink, she found Devon and her father standing on opposite sides of the hallway.

  Under normal circumstances, Devon would have a hand on the prisoner at all times. He and Julian would escort them in together, keeping careful proximity until the end. But Julian wasn’t only avoiding the basement; he was avoiding the hallway entirely. Hovering nervously in the foyer, his eyes flashing iridescent white. And while Devon might have at least attempted some proximity, even he wouldn’t dare come any closer. The initial protective adrenaline that had pierced those boundaries before had faded, to be replaced again by that same fear—the instinctual wariness that had been ingrained in all of them as children.

  “You understand how this works, don’t you?” Simon asked with a coaxing smile, lifting the leg on his pants to reveal the shining strap below. “And Rae,” he turned to his daughter next, “you understand the premise behind the tatù-inhibitors on the wall, don’t you?”

  Neither one answered him.

  They turned instead to each other.

  “Get him downstairs,” Rae said quietly, pulling out her phone as she hurried away in casual retreat. “I’ll meet you back upstairs.”

  Devon nodded and turned with great trepidation to Simon, who was already heading down to the basement without another word. Probably thinking it wise not to antagonize his new jailers.

  Rae was not feeling so benevolent.

  The second she got back into the foyer, she wrenched Julian away from Angel and smacked him in the chest the second his eyes had cleared back to the present. “Really? You were so busy fooling around with your girlfriend, that you didn’t see this?!”

  “You lost my car again,” he shot back.

  Rae headed up the stairs without another word. She was beyond frustrated. Not so much at her friends as with herself. She should have seen this coming. It was her father, after all.

  What was her mother going to say? Speaking of whom…

  The first call she made was to her mother, explaining the situation and recommending that she probably extend her Scottish vacation for a few more days. Beth promised to be there for the trial. Wouldn’t miss it for the world were her exact words. But this holding time in between? It was probably in everyone’s best interest to keep as much space between the ex-couple as possible. Rae didn’t even want to begin to think what her mom was feeling. Everything that happened, her entire past, everything was tainted because of Simon. Rae couldn’t even imagine what her mother had gone through before losing her memory, and after. What would have possessed her mom, the most matter-of-fact person she knew, to fall for someone like Simon Kerrigan? She wasn’t sure she’d ever have the right opportunity to ask her mom. And she doubted she’d ever get to ask her father either.

  The next call was to her friends staying at the inn, telling them to keep staying there and hold tight. Lately, Rae and the rest of them had been attracting enough attention as it was. The last thing they needed was a full-on Guilder reunion with the press sniffing around. This was accepted without a word of protest. She could tell they’d been amping each other up for a big speech about how they were ‘all in this together now.’ But the second they found out that Simon was staying at the house, that speech went the way of the wind.

  “Are you sure?” Maria asked half-heartedly. “We could always help.”

  Rae fought back a smile. She didn’t need to be a full-time telepath to know exactly what was going through the girl’s head. “Yes, I’m sure. We’ve got this one. But thanks. And thanks for staying in town. It’s good to know that we have back-up close by if the situation calls for it.”

  They both hung up at the same time. Both hoping the situation would never call for it.

  “Rae?”

  Devon’s voice filtered up from the bottom of the stairs and Rae instinctively switched into his ink, racing out of the room and flying down the hall to meet him. Normally, his tatù was her default. She was actually surprised to realize that her body wasn’t already using it. Instead, it was still humming with the one she’d practiced last night. Rippling and yearning with the desire to, once again, play with time.

  “What is it?” she asked anxiously the second she made it down the stairs. “Did you get him tied up okay? He didn’t give you any trouble, did he?”

  Devon took a step back, looking a bit surprised. “We’re back to tying him up again?”

  Rae stopped cold. “You didn’t tie him?!” Was he serious?! In what kind of world did Devon not take that precaution?

  “Babe, he was walking around the house the last time he was here. Always with someone else, of course, but he wasn’t tied up. Not after your mom talked with him. And now the anklet?”

  Rae’s eyes flashed in a muted rage. She couldn’t see herself, but she knew Devon had by his sudden reaction. Aware she was taking out her frustration on the wrong person she pressed her lips tight, unable to stop herself from doing so. “Yeah, but that was before.” She pushed past him, knocking him hard in the shoulder as she stormed back down to the basement to do it herself.

  Devon stayed fixed to the spot, staring at her in bewilderment as he absentmindedly rubbed his bruised arm. “Before what?”

  Rae glared at him one more time before spinning around and hurrying to the basement. Her hair trailed out behind her as she vanished down the hall. “Before…everything.”

  * * *

  There were no minced words as father and daughter reunited this time. No witty banter or tenuous exchange of apologies or times gone by. This time Rae was all business.

  “Get in the chair,” she commanded. Her feet skidded to a sudden stop the second she set foot inside, stripped of Devon’s speed by the inhibitors. She didn’t care. She didn’t need it. Her father wanted to try anything? Let him. In a way, she was almost hoping he would.

  Simon glanced up when she came in, then glanced in turn at the chair. “We’re back to this, are we?”

  Freakin’ A! He had to sound like Devon, too? “Just sit down!” She was in no mood to play games. No mood to be distracted by the fact that her long-lost father was standing in the room, speaking to her. Their last conversation back at the warehouse had effectively disillusioned her. Removed any notions that there was anything at all redeemable about the man who had given her his name. She saw him now the way everyone else saw him. As the enemy. As Simon Kerrigan. A man who lived up to his name.

  He stared at her for a moment before doing as he was told. He even lay his hands out on the armre
sts to make them easier for her to tie. The second she was finished she started heading back to the door, but he called out to stop her.

  “Rae, this wasn’t my doing, you know.” He looked her squarely in the eye as she slowly rotated back towards him. “I won’t lie; I’m thrilled to be back with you again. However, without placing blame, my dear, you were the one followed by the press. You can hardly fault me for the mayhem that followed.”

  “I can hardly fault you for the mayhem that followed?” she repeated, descending the stairs again, one by one. “Let’s see if I can. Let’s see if I can find it in me.”

  “Rae—”

  “Why do you think they were rioting, Dad?” Her eyes narrowed as she stood just two feet away, glaring down at him for everything she was worth. “Why do you think they were banging on the walls, screaming for your blood? Because I have some pretty good ideas. And yes, all of them find you entirely to blame.”

  Simon pulled in a steadying breath, trying to calm things down. “I already explained all of that to you. I already accepted responsibility—”

  “No, what you did was just words,” she interrupted. “Accepting responsibility is going to be standing trial for what you’ve done, and receiving whatever punishment they deem fit.” She turned to storm back up the stairs but whirled around at the last second, and stormed straight back. “And for the record, I don’t believe for a second that you had nothing to do with this…this arrangement.” She recalled his words from just a few minutes before. What did I tell you, Louis? It’s perfect, no? “It sounded to me like you were the one to suggest it.”

  He sat there, patiently waiting for her to finish. It annoyed her even more.

  She whirled around again before stopping herself for a third time. “And what the hell was up with you calling him Louis? I don’t even call him that.”

  Simon didn’t answer. He simply sat there, watching her calmly. When she raised her eyebrows impatiently, he leaned back with a smile. “I’m sorry. Is the ranting portion of this afternoon over? Am I allowed to speak now?”