The Chronicles of Kerrigan Box Set Books # 1 - 6: Paranormal Fantasy Young Adult/New Adult Romance

by W. J. May

  “Only ‘cause I don’t believe you.” She watched Molly walk to the front and grab two sticks and then head back towards Kraigan. Rae chewed on her lip. How am I going to figure out a way to talk to him alone?

  “Rae? You listening?” Nic tapped her gently on the forehead. “I said, Devon asked me where you were. He seemed pretty worried you weren’t here. Is something going on again, like last year?” Nic’s eyebrows scrunched together in genuine worry.

  He was so sweet to worry and he need not have. Yet, that wasn’t the thing that struck her most. Devon was looking for her. She felt almost giddy over that. Her cheeks started to redden, but she tried to play it off. “Devon’s such a goodie-goodie about attending class. Since he’s mentoring me, he’s probably paranoid Carter’s going to give him crap if I’m not here.” Rae tucked a stray stand of hair behind her ear. “Did he say where he was going when he left?”

  Nic shrugged. “Probably back to his dorm. He looked exhausted.”

  “I’ll give him a shout after class.” Her heart-rate picked up. She couldn’t wait to see Devon. Kraigan can wait a couple more hours. “Let’s duel.” She turned and walked to grab two sticks from the front of the room.

  Passing Molly, she heard Kraigan say, “Yeah, my buddy Randy’s got this wicked tatù. Dude’s got awesome hearing. If he concentrates hard enough, he can hear a conversation on the other side of a football pitch.”

  “Why listen to some boring conversation on a sports field? There’d be nothing interesting,” Molly said.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Kraigan replied. “I’m just trying to give you an idea of the strength of his tatù. I—”

  “Can he hear through walls? Do they have to be made of drywall or what about brick? Or can he only hear in open fields? That’s what it sounds like you’re saying. He can hear in big, open room, with no obstructions. What about if there are a lot of people? Does he get distracted from everyone talking or can he focus on, say, the one person he wants to hear?” Molly shook her head. “It doesn’t seem like such a great tatù if you ask me.”

  Rae grinned. Leave it to Molly. At least the look of frustration and annoyance on Kraigan’s face wasn’t directed at her.

  After class finished in the Oratory, Rae headed over to Devon’s dorm. Stopping along the way, she grabbed a couple of sandwiches and a packet of potato crisps for each of them. She knocked on his door, wondering if he might actually be sleeping.

  The door opened and Rae lost her breath. Devon wore a pair of pants and nothing else, looking like a Greek god.

  He stepped forward and enveloped her in a tight hug. “Missed you like crazy.” He unwrapped his arms then pulled her into the suite, closing the door behind them.

  The happiness on his face made Rae giddy. “I brought lunch. I figured you might be hungry, and it saves me having to run and grab something before I have to head back to afternoon classes.” She couldn’t stop grinning and felt a bit like Molly babbling away.

  “Starving.” Devon’s eyes traveled up and down Rae. “For you and for food, too.” He pulled her close again and pressed hungry lips against hers. “I—missed—you—this—morning,” he mumbled between kisses.

  Rae laughed, excited to be the one more in control at the moment. “If someone bothered to e-mail me they’d be in class this morning, I’d have made sure I was there early.” She pretended to give him a scowl. “Actually, I lost track of time.” She remembered the journal and slapped her forehead. “Wait till I tell you what my uncle sent me.”

  Devon leaned towards her again, slipping his arms around her waist. “Is it better than not seeing me for almost five weeks? Can it wait ten minutes?” He nuzzled her neck.

  “If you keep doing this, I’m going to forget what I should tell you. Trust me, it’ll get you points with the Privy Council.” Rae pressed closer to his firm body, enjoying his aftershave scent and shirtless upper body.

  Devon groaned. “An angel knocks on my door and then tempts me with words, on top of her hot body?” He stepped back, running his fingers through his hair. He chuckled and threw his hands in the air. “You win. Let’s eat and you tell me all the good gossip.”

  Rae put her backpack on Devon’s desk and pulled out the sandwiches and crisps. She tossed him one of each, then grabbed the other and settled on the couch. Unwrapping her tuna sandwich, she waited for him to sit beside her. She smiled when he raised his eyebrows at her, obviously impatient for her to talk.

  “Over the holidays, Argyle told me he was part of a fraternity while he attended Guilder. My dad was the president, Argyle the secretary. He wrote the minutes in a journal. I guess it wasn’t much of a gathering. It only lasted one term.”

  Devon reached for the second part of his sandwich. He finished a bite. “Does your uncle remember anything important from it?”

  “Not really. Well—” Rae couldn’t resist building up to the big finish with the information she had. “He couldn’t remember the name—thought it had to do with some kind of card game.” She ate a crisp. “He looked for the journal while I was home but couldn’t find it.” She chewed on another chip. She was unable to stall any longer. “Argyle posted the journal out to me. He found it in some old files or a box and, get this, the fraternity was called ‘House of Cards,’ or HOC for short.”

  She grinned when his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “I missed your talk about joining the Privy Council ‘cause I was reading some of it. Argyle kept meticulous notes and my dad actually wrote about the brainwashing thing in it. He had planned the whole thing out at sixteen! I haven’t read everything yet, but you have got to read the notes at the end.”

  Devon sat up straight. “What’s it say? Does it describe how the brainwashing technique works? In detail? How to set it up or dismantle it?”

  Rae shrugged. “I don’t know. I just opened the post this morning and only read a few pages. The stuff at the end though, my dad was crazy even back then. He figured he’d be able to rule the world.” She waited to see if he would react to her last words. She wasn’t disappointed.

  Devon jumped up, crisps flying everywhere. Oblivious, he stepped on the ones on the floor, their crunching suddenly loud in the quiet room. He walked over to the desk and opened Rae’s backpack. “Do you have it here?” He dumped the bag’s contents onto the desk.

  “Slow down!” Rae was surprised. She had missed him, and had been excited to share the news with him, but his reaction seemed a bit extreme. “I don’t have it on me! Imagine if someone found it in my bag! I left it in my dorm. I don’t want the entire school to know I’ve got it. They’d go nuts. Rumors would start flying that I’m picking up where he left off, or something equally ridiculous. I spent all of last year being treated like a freak. This year, I finally feel somewhat normal and I don’t want to give that up.” She grabbed her bag, stuffing the contents back in. “Next time, just wait till I answer your question! You didn’t have to empty my bag—you know, go through my stuff. I don’t have anything to hide.”

  “Sorry.” Devon grabbed a shirt and pulled it on. “Let’s go to your room and get it. We need to get it to the Privy Council right away.”

  Rae hesitated. It was one thing for Devon to see it, another for the Privy Council to take ownership. If they had it, she doubted she would ever see it again, and she wasn’t entirely sold on the whole “trusting the PC completely” thing yet, not like Devon was. “No...at least, not yet.” She watched him about to argue and then stop himself. “I just want to read it first, okay?” She reached for his arm, wishing she had kept quiet and enjoyed his kisses instead of telling him about the dumb journal.

  Devon tapped his foot, crunching another crisp. “I guess that would be okay. You should read it first. Maybe we could make a copy of it. We’ve just been having such a hard time figuring this brainwashing device out and then someone stole part of what Carter had hidden. It’s frustrating, like someone knows our plans before we make them.” He smiled and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m sorr
y about emptying your bag. That was really stupid of me.”

  “No worries.” Rae checked her watch, feeling guilty for mistrusting him. “I’ve got about ten minutes before my next class. Do you want to go to my room and see the journal? You can read it while I’m in class, and then we can check it out when I’m finished at three?”

  “Definitely. This needs to get to the Privy Council pronto.”

  Rae held her hand up, not liking the look of determination on Devon’s face. Had he heard anything she had just said? Anything at all? “Hold up. This is my book. I’m not ready to hand it over yet. I haven’t even finished reading it.”

  Devon shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. It’s way more important to give it to the Privy Council. Lives could depend on it.”

  She wanted to tell him to back off, to think of her instead of duty. However, he was right—in a small way. “Fine.” She glanced down, feeling drained. “You can read it while I’m in class but I get to read it before you turn it over to the PC. I’m not going to budge on that point, and you’d better get a vacuum before you start. You made a mess and I’m not cleaning it up.” She pointed to the floor and despite being ticked, laughed at the look on Devon’s face.

  “Crap. How’d that happen?” He glanced down at his tapping foot. “I got one of those little Dust-buster here somewhere. I’ll clean it up when I get back. I won’t put a drop of chip fat on the book. Come on. Let’s go.”

  They raced over to Aumbry House without talking. Pulling her room key out, she realized she forgot to lock the door in her mad dash to class this morning. Shaking her head, she stepped into the room with Devon right on her heels.

  “I think I stuffed it in my desk when I realized how late I was for class.” She pulled the drawer open and reached inside.

  Devon leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, watching quietly.

  Rae scratched her head. “I thought I put it in here.” She bent down and looked in the drawer again. She glanced on top of the desk, lifting papers and binders as she tried to find it. “Maybe it fell.” She dropped down to the ground and felt Devon crawl beside her.

  “Can’t find it?” he said.

  She caught the worry in his voice. “I—I had it this morning, but I was running late for class so I didn’t really pay attention to where I put it when I headed out.” Rae pushed up into a kneeling position. “It’s dark brown leather, tied by an old leather string.” She bit the inside of her cheek, her heart rate accelerating. “Maybe it’s on the bed or hiding under the sheets.”

  “Or—” Devon let the statement hang in the air as he shuffled over to the bed and looked underneath it.

  “No! I know what you’re thinking. There’s no way someone took it. No one even knows I have it! I just got it and only told you twenty minutes ago. I forgot to lock my door…maybe Molly came by and saw it, thinking I needed it for class.” Rae winced. That sounded like a really weak stab in the dark.

  Devon stood. “I doubt it. Someone stole it.”

  “Who? It’s impossible!” But the hairs rose on the back of her neck, confirming Devon’s words were truth. She didn’t know how she knew, and it was nearly impossible to believe, but he was right.

  Chapter 21

  MIA

  Stolen? It didn’t make sense. Could someone be pulling a Lanford? Pretending to be nice but only after what Rae might have? Carter? The dean? Julian? Or worse, Devon? Rae stared at her desk and then at Devon in disbelief. He could have come here looking for me after he left the Oratory and found the journal. Then hid it—

  “No one knows about the journal except for Uncle Argyle,” she whispered. “No one here knows it even existed.”

  “Somehow, someone does. It’s gone.” Devon cocked his head to the side. “Shhhh—” He held a finger up and paused. “Nothing…No one.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, typing into it furiously. “Whoever took it is long gone. Write down everything you can remember. Actually, e-mail it to me. I’ve seen you type. It’s faster than I can think.” He pulled his car keys out of his pocket. “I’ve got to tell the Privy Council. And check on Ann—someone.” His last words were mumbled, as if he was talking to himself.

  The bloomin’ Privy Council—again? Why did Devon feel the need to score points with them at a time like this? Rae blew her bangs away from her forehead. Of course, this was important but it irked her the way he always seemed to put them before everything–even her. “I doubt the Council really cares about a journal that’s twenty years old and written by a teenager.”

  “You’re wrong. They’ll care very, very much. You said it yourself your dad wrote in it and mentioned brainwashing. There could be more vital information inside.” Rae opened her mouth to retort, but he held his hand up to stop her. “The journal belongs to you, I know. But, if it’s stolen, someone’s after its contents.” He began pacing the small room. “I just spent the past two months going to the four corners of Britain to retrieve parts of a brainwashing device no one knows how to work. Someone beat me to one corner, replaced the item with an exact replica--that doesn’t work. So if they took the journal, they must know more about it than we do.” Devon paused and pulled at his hair in frustration, making his hair stand up at odd angles. “All that freakin’ work, a waste of time.” He shook his head and breathed heavily. “You have no idea how hard this is, how screwed up your father was.” The stress he was throwing off got to Rae, and she couldn’t hold back anymore. I’m so tired of being attacked just because this monster fathered me—.

  “My father? So it’s my fault?” She exhaled a breath, trying to keep it slow and controlled. Relax, Rae. He’s not blaming you. “So that’s where you’ve been? Getting these hidden pieces?” Rae dropped into her chair, pulled out her laptop, and punched the power button harder than necessary. Despite being ticked, she still planned on typing what she could remember. She just wished she didn’t feel so personally responsible for every horrible thing Simon had done in his life. I could really use a photographic memory tatù about now.

  “Yeah. Me n’ Julian. Let me tell you, it was no picnic.” He shook his head and sighed. “Someone else is after the same stuff, so it’s a race against time. Plus trying to figure out who it is trying to get Simon Kerrigan’s work back up and running. There are some seriously delusional people in this world.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “This pile of crap just keeps getting bigger, and now it’s like someone’s shoveling it into a fan.”

  “What are you talking about?” Rae asked. Devon was tormenting her by giving her the tiniest of glimpses into the bigger picture that he was dealing with.

  “It doesn’t matter.” Devon kissed the top of her head. “Listen, type what you can remember and then send it to my phone. I gotta go. I’ll call Carter and let him know what’s going on as well. No one’ll bug you about missing classes this afternoon.” He turned to go. “If you see Julian, will you tell him I’ve gone?”

  “Sure.” Rae stared at the closed door long after Devon left. Why won’t he clue me in? I’m not stupid— I know there’s a helluva lot more to the situation than just trying to keep this one evil tool away from the bad guys. Why won’t he tell me everything, and why does Devon trust the Privy Council so blindly? It was a question she had never gotten an answer to. She actually had a ton of questions spanning a wide range of topics. She kept thinking if she could just get some answers, she might be able to help. However, it was evident that no one trusted her enough to give her any real info. She wasn’t feeling a whole lot of trust for anyone in particular these days herself, especially not if Devon was right and the journal had been stolen. The only thing she knew with any degree of certainty was that if she couldn’t trust Devon, despite his erratic behavior, she was lost. Slowly, she turned to the computer screen, and willed her mind to go blank. She clicked on the word processing program, drummed her nails on the desktop, and willed the words to come to her fingertips.

  She typed in a few points. The first being that her dad’s paren
ts both had tatùs. That was something she hadn’t known, and she had a hunch the Privy Council didn’t either. Her grandfather had set her father’s idea, maybe ideas, in motion. Maybe more family history existed that she didn’t know of. Someday she needed to do a family tree and find out everything she could about both sides of her family and why Simon had chosen her mother. I’m beginning to wonder if it really ever was for love.

  Typing these points, she clicked on the little disc icon to save the document but didn’t send it to Devon. She wanted to learn more on her own before telling anyone. It was a gut reaction she couldn’t, or maybe didn’t want to explain, and simply couldn’t deny. Opening an e-mail to let him know there was nothing to tell, she suddenly remembered the quote at the beginning of the journal. She quickly entered Devon’s e-mail address and typed in the Erich Fromm comment: “The quest for certainty blocks the search for meaning. Uncertainty is the very condition to impel man to unfold his powers.”

  Rereading the weird thought, she tried to figure out why her dad thought it important. She added her own note to Devon: “I don’t get the meaning behind this quote. I’ll e-mail my uncle Argyle to see if he knows anything.”

  She sat back, chewed on her bottom lip and thought about her dad’s rantings. Devon might want a summary of what I got from it. Rae realized that she couldn’t very well keep it all from him. She had to give him something. So, she e-mailed her thoughts:

  “My dad hated the Privy Council and hoped to one day overtake them. He’d only had his tatù a month and was cocky enough to believe he had the power to rule the world. That’s all I remember, then I took off to class. Sorry this isn’t much help, Rae.”

  Hitting the send button, she then shut down the computer. Waiting in her room, twiddling her thumbs just drove her crazy. She reopened the computer and checked for a reply from Devon. Nothing. Hitting the refresh button every five minutes didn’t help either.