The Chronicles of Kerrigan Box Set Books # 1 - 6: Paranormal Fantasy Young Adult/New Adult Romance
Page 23
Lanford laughed at her. “Kerrigan, you’re already trapped. What’re you doing to do? Vision your way out of the room? You’ve got Carter’s tatù and it’s useless. You have no ‘fuel’ to use. It was your father’s one weakness, one I plan to liberally exploit in you.” He paused, pointing to the floor. “There are a few bottles of water within reach for you. Don’t overdo it as you’ll have to wet yourself if you need to go. That’s always the first thing to go with you females and I’m not cleaning up any mess.” He gave her a fond, almost fatherly smile, causing her stomach to turn. He’s insane…he’s got to be insane…and I’ve trusted him all this time!
Rae glanced to where he’d pointed and heard the dull click of the door as it locked. He’d moved and disappeared faster than she thought he could. She wondered if anyone knew he could move so quickly. Probably not. He seems to be great at hiding things. Jerk.
She stayed where she was, propped up against the cool wall, waiting to see if the headmaster would come back. She jerked when the laptop monitor flickered and the flat screen turned the semi-dark room an eerie blue color. A video began to play. She listened as the narrator explained that it was an instructional video.
A lifespan is spent seeking success and happiness. One chases after dreams, careers, ambitions, faith, partners and money; all in the hope of finding the success and contentment they so long for. The only place we need to search is within ourselves. Our inner powers will move us forward – we must show the world our tatùs. Our capabilities and potential are far greater than anything man has ever done, or will do. We are above mankind – above the law which rules over them.
That voice…something about that voice. What was it? Why did it tickle her memory? Her heart stopped when she realized the narrator was her father. Rae dropped to the floor in the middle of the room and hugged her knees to her chest, trying to protect herself from the memories. His voice reminded her only of the time he’d been so mean and scared her as a child. She’d trusted him, because he was her father, but he’d turned on her that night. She began to cry. She’d trusted the headmaster completely and he… he… she couldn’t even finish her train of thought. She’d never suspected any of this.
She felt so lost, so afraid and bloody cold. She had iron shackles on her wrists and the ancient, heavy metal chains felt like ice as they rubbed against her legs and arms. The entire room was cold, and her Tinker Bell outfit wasn’t made to promote warmth. Her thin jacket didn’t help much, either. Her teeth chattered as tears coursed down her cheeks.
How did she get into this mess? Her uncle’s words screamed back at her: the sins of the father are the sins of the son. You can’t undo the past, Rae.
She curled into the fetal position on the cold marble. Her foot bumped against something, and with dismay, Rae realized she’d knocked over one of the bottles of water. She felt wetness against her ankle and quickly realized the marble floor wouldn’t absorb any of the liquid.
Swearing, she scooted over as much as the shackles would allow. She was already shivering. The last thing she needed was to slip into hypothermia too. She could hear the video with her father’s voice telling her she could be part of a bigger picture, a new dream for the world with endless opportunities, yet she saw no great potential in this situation. How freakin’ ironic.
The headmaster had been right; no one was going to come save her. Her only freedom would be death, the same choice her mother had made. She’d sacrificed everything to stop her father. Rae wondered if maybe she’d need to do the same thing in order to stop Lanford.
What can I do? Her ability was useless right now. Mimicking Carter wasn’t going to help her escape. Rae banged her head on the floor, trying to come up with something – anything that would give her a glimmer of hope. The ache in her heart made her gasp, but it was preferable to her inner pain. At least it was real and tangible. She thought about her friends and immediately Devon came to mind. I’m such an IDIOT for believing Riley. Devon’s not back with Beth. She’d been such a dummy. She needed to find a way to protect him.
Rae cringed as she remembered the picture Julian had shown her. He’d been convinced the vision meant she’d been in danger. The sketch was about right now, not about her chasing after her own personal demons. Wait…it was about now…right now… She shuddered at a realization. Those were real demons, the ghost of her father, in a round room… What was with the eye of Carter watching me? He actually had said he was on her side.
She abruptly sat up. The eye…watching me… She looked up, squinting trying to see if there were any video cameras watching her every move. She was pretty sure there would be. She strained, trying to force her eyes to focus on the dimly lit ceiling. It felt like she was trapped in the tower of London, with King Henry VIII about to execute her. She wished she had Devon’s tatù right then. His night-vision would allow him to clearly see that high up in the dark. She squinted again and began to pick out a small, flashing red light. She knew immediately it was a camera, and it was recording her every move. The knowledge brought her no comfort.
How long before Lanford comes back? She thought about how disappointed her mother would have been with this end, how brief her life was and how little she had done with it. That thought brought fresh tears to her eyes. Oh Mom…it’s not fair! Why should we have to sacrifice ourselves to stop the bad people? I grew up without you and now I have to die to save the freakin’ world?
But what choice did she have?
She was all alone, and no one was going to save her. She’d never finish her father’s work like Lanford wanted, she refused to even consider it. What she’d seen in his visions of her father was enough to show her that she was nothing like him.
She cued back into reality in when the voice on the screen stopped. The video was over, but the bloody thing had automatic playback, she could hear it resetting itself, all the little bits and chips in the laptop were zipping and whirring, doing their jobs.
She didn’t want to watch it again, but how could she possibly stop it? She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the stone wall, and tried to think of nothing. She tried to block out everything and bury all emotions.
I am totally, completely screwed, she thought with a snort.
Suddenly, thoughts of Nicholas filled her mind. He would have known how to MacGyver his way out of these shackles with a paper clip and then opened the locked, ancient iron door. Yep, Nicholas and his amazing paperclip! Rae barked a laugh and wiped the tears from her eyes, trying to calm her crazed mind. She needed to focus on what she could do to stop this.
I could use the shackles to strangle myself. All I’d have to do is cross my arms and pull tight… She felt no fear of dying, she didn’t mind killing herself, especially if it meant saving others. Her mother had made the same sacrifice, so she could be at least as brave as her mother had been. Except, deep down Rae didn’t want to die. She wanted to live! To learn to use her gift for good, to right the wrongs, to finish school, fall in love and experience a first kiss. She was a sixteen-year-old girl, for goodness’ sake! Rae rolled her head from side to side as the video began to play again, trying to deny the reality of it.
Her father’s voice grated on her nerves like sandpaper. She tried to tune it out, but it only made the humming inside of her louder, and her headache worse.
Tapping her foot against the marble floor to dispel the tension building inside, she tried to cover her ears, even the clanking of the chains couldn’t block the sound out.
“Shut up!” she screamed, bellowing straight from her gut. She yelled it again and again. “Shut up! Shut up! You were never my father. You were just a monster. You told me monsters were real, and I believed you. How could I’ve ever known you were the worst monster of them all? What kind of father would want their child to grow up evil? What kind of man were you and how did my mom ever love you?”
She wished she had Molly’s gift and, for a brief second, she pretended she did, knowing exactly how Molly’s ink felt inside her. She thr
ew her arm in the direction of the laptop and flicked her fingers, as if to throw a bolt of electricity into the laptop and the screen to fry them.
Blue jagged lines erupted from her fingers and made a bee line for the laptop. It sparked and hissed, the smell of burnt plastic immediately filling the air. The screen blacked out. The sudden silence was deafening.
That silence screamed the truth to Rae.
Chapter 23
Your Destiny
Unable to stop staring at the now fried computer, Rae made a conscious effort to close her mouth. Holy…! What…? She stood and started to pace with the shackles on her arms. Two steps one way and then backward two steps was all the room she had, but it was her mind that needed the space and it was clearing faster by the second.
I used Molly’s gift. I killed the laptop, but how? I haven’t touched Molly in hours. I’m supposed to have Dean Carter’s ability.
Rae suddenly froze on the spot as the enormity of what had just happened hit her full force.
Woah…I killed the laptop. I don’t have Carter’s ability…why not? Or do I?
Realizing she didn’t have time for why not, Rae focused on how to use this new-found information to free herself. Okay, what do I know for sure?
I know I used someone’s tatù without touching them. Or out of order.
Wait, Rae cocked her head to the side, trying to break down the truth into its most basic form. Occam’s Razor, “the simplest explanation is most likely the correct one.” Okay, if I thought I could only use the tatù of the last person I touched, yet I used Molly’s ability out of order, I must be wrong. So then…Rae swung her leg around in a partial semi-circle, dragging the sole of her shoe against the cobbled floor as she tried to consider what exactly the opposite of her wrong assumption would be. Can I use anyone’s tatù who I’ve touched, whenever I like? An excited breath seized in her throat as she realized the only way to know would be to test the theory.
She tapped her foot, trying to think of someone else’s ink she understood deeply. Healing – she could get rid of her headache and the goose egg on the back of her head. She closed her eyes and tried to find the slightly-unfamiliar hum inside of her. Once found, she fed it, nurtured it until it became more than just a memory in her veins. The hum spread through her body. Finally, she could think more clearly, without the murky cloud of pain hovering over her. She touched the back of her head and grinned. No bump. Rae resumed her pacing.
Devon’s ink came to mind next, along with his image and she instantly felt nauseous all over again. How could I be so stupid? Taking a deep breath to dispel the sick feeling in her stomach, she promised herself she would see him again. But for now, I have work to do. She forced him out of her mind so she could concentrate. She realized she must’ve used his ability when squinting to see the recording camera in the dim light. Damn! The camera! She stopped pacing and stared up at it. Lanford might be watching even now and would have seen what she’d just done.
But what exactly have I done? Maybe…maybe there’s nothing to see on the camera but me acting crazy. Little bits of hope trickled through her as she tried to focus. There’s got to be something I can do without getting caught on camera. She sorted through the classes she had in the Oratory this term – thinking about everyone she had worked with. It was an uphill battle because everything reminded her of how much Lanford understood her ability and wanted to nurture it. Nurture my ass. He wanted it working at full force for when he needed to use me to his benefit and no one else’s, not even mine.
A deep breath in and out helped fortify her. Let it go. Focus on the problem at hand. She stood still, legs akimbo, pondering everything. She twirled a blonde strand of hair over and over through her fingers. Her ink was stronger than her father’s, just like her mother had said. I’m not my father, I’m nothing like him. I have to get out of here so I can prove it to the world. “Now how am I going to do that?” she asked herself aloud.
She leaned back against the cold wall and slid down, bumping into another bottle of water, catching it before it fell. She was immediately reminded of Craig as she felt a few drops spill onto her hand. Craig was able to change water into different forms. Rae leaned forward and rolled the water bottle away from her, letting it leave a trail of liquid along the way. She did the same for the remaining bottle as well. Making sure it was toward the door, not near her. She closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall again, waiting for the hum to start. She remembered the feeling inside of her from Craig’s tatù. She searched for it inside of herself. When she found it, she leaned forward and brought a finger toward the water. It instantly turned to ice. She could even hear the crackle as it froze against the marble. She didn’t think it was going to help, but at least she was able to draw on another skill if she needed it. And with the color of the marble she thought it couldn’t be visible to the camera.
She shivered with cold as she tried to think of a way to get the shackles off her wrists. She rubbed her hands together, trying to think of all the gifts she’d mimicked. Nicholas’ ink would be useful, but she had nothing to work with except the bracelet from Devon, and that was obviously going to be a last resort. She thought about shape-shifting, but being a wolf or a bird wasn’t going to get her out of the room. She needed something smaller, something more petite, something which would allow her to slip through the shackles…GALE!
Just as Rae closed her eyes to catch Gale’s ability, a heavy slamming muffled against the other side of the wall. A very angry, and apparently alive, Carter hollered at Lanford.
“You bugger! You’ve been playing her since day one!” Another loud crashing echoed through the door of her prison. Lanford was obviously using his ability against Carter. Rae pressed herself back against the wall. Nothing could come flying through the ancient brick walls but it still didn’t stop her from flinching. Still feeling the hum of Gale’s ability, she changed only her hands and feet, focusing until the shackles slipped off her wrists and clanged to the floor. She carefully slipped her misshapen feet out of their shackles and focused on changing both her hands and feet back to normal. When done, she let out a relived sigh, thankful that nothing had gone wrong in the process. At the same time another piece of furniture burst into a million pieces on the other side of the wall.
“You know nothing!” Lanford hissed. “You obviously have no idea what she is capable of or who she can hurt.”
“She’s not going to hurt anyone. Guilder’s supposed to protect her, not use her!” Several grunts and scraping noises followed. “Now, where did you hide her, old man?”
Rae, avoiding the ice, ran to the door and began pounding on the heavy oak. Her fists barely made a sound on the dense, almost fossilized wood. “I’m in here! Help me! I’m here,” she yelled.
More fighting and grunting ensued from the other side of the door. Rae knew they probably hadn’t heard her. Carter fought outmatched anyway. Even if he had heard her pounding on the door and calling out, Lanford’s ability could toss the dean in the air like a rag doll. He didn’t stand a chance.
Shoulders slumped, Rae edged back to the spot by the chains and slid to the floor, hugging her knees. Head tucked between her legs, she wished this was a bad dream and it would all just end.
The scraping sound of the rusty dead bolt brought her head up. She held her breath as it swung open.
Lanford, his combover now looking like a bad wig and his clothes completely ripped and covered in red smudges and dirt, looked furious. He glared at her, then the TV screen, then back at her. “The video obviously doesn’t work.” He didn’t sound nearly as angry about it as she had expected he would, which surprised her.
Rae kept her eyes on him, wondering what the heck he was going to do, but tried to focus on an ink that could match his ability. His own. She let the hum fill her body and grow familiar inside her. Then she thought one ink better and had to fight to keep the triumphant smile from breaching her lips. Oh yeah…Mr. Fluffy Bad-Hair is going down…
He m
oved just inside the doorway.
Right where I want you… “Take one step closer and I’ll burn you and this building down like my mother roasted Simon.” Rae had no idea how her mother’s ability worked, but she figured those words would be enough to stop him in his tracks and Lanford had no idea of what her capabilities truly were anyway. She was betting he didn’t have the guts to call her bluff.
It worked, for a moment, at least until Lanford pulled a gun out of his jacket pocket and pointed it at her. “You may have some hidden talents, but I have five hidden friends inside of this.” He jiggled the gun in his palm, just to make sure she didn’t misunderstand his poorly chosen pun. “You move and I’ll send all five of them out to meet you.”
Seriously bad joke, but that gun isn’t funny. What now? Rae hesitated. She couldn’t think of any tatù that could stop one bullet, let alone the five that would fly in her direction if she pushed him. She knew she could heal relatively small and internal injuries, but she had no idea if it could save her from the damage caused by bullets, or if it would work fast enough. What if she went unconscious? Would the tatù still work? She didn’t know. Of all the questions I really should have asked in class…this is the one that comes back to bite me in the butt? Really?!?! Her internal turmoil aside, she knew now wasn’t the time to test the far flung theory hoping she’d be all right.
Wow, kinda wish I’d thought this through a little more…
“Did you think you’d be able to get away, Kerrigan?”
Well, kinda…yeah. But she knew now wasn’t the time for her smart mouth. She decided to let him keep talking. The longer he yacks, the longer I live to try to get myself out of here.