Our Time: Paranormal Fantasy Clean Romance (The Chronicles of Kerrigan Sequel Series Book 5)

by W. J. May

  Devon noticed it at the same time.

  Every muscle in his body tensed in alarm as his eyes flashed towards the house. He froze for a second, listening, then shouted something that sounded a hell of a lot like—

  “JULES!”

  The car shot forward, flying towards the house with no indication of stopping. Rae shrieked and her hands flew up to grip the ceiling as pedestrians and other vehicles dove out of the way. In a burst of speed they broke through the picket fence, missing the driveway entirely as they careened up onto the grass. Rae gasped and stared around in shock, but the car had hardly come to a stop before Devon leapt through the open window and sprinted towards the house.

  “Dev!” she cried out after him. Her hands scrambled desperately against the jammed seatbelt before she switched quickly back into his tatù, yanking the whole thing apart. “Wait!”

  But there was no waiting.

  Without a moment’s pause, Devon kicked open the front door and went tearing inside. Just in time to catch Julian as he raced down the stairs.

  Rae made it to the door just in time to see the two men struggling against each other. One, desperate to restrain. The other, desperate to leave.

  “Let me go!” Julian demanded, fighting to free himself from Devon’s grasp. “LET GO!”

  Rae’s face paled as her eyes drifted around the living room. It looked like the place had been violently shaken, then turned upside-down. There wasn’t a single piece of furniture that wasn’t splintered and destroyed. Even the scattered paintings on the wall hung crooked in their frames.

  Her first thought was that they had t been robbed, that some sort of manic devil had raced through the place leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. But as she gazed up in shock at the two men thrashing in front of her, she had a pretty good idea who the culprit had been.

  “Devon, GET OFF!”

  The two of them were locked in a fierce struggle. The kind that could only continue so long before someone got seriously hurt.

  “Just tell me what happened!” Devon begged, trying desperately to keep his grip without being knocked over at the same time. “Jules, tell me what—”

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  Only Julian could say something so terrifying in such a quiet voice.

  A cascade of shivers shot down Rae’s spine, and for a split-second the battle came to a pause. Julian stopped trying to break free, and the two men merely stood there silently panting.

  “I’m going to kill him where he stands.”

  Devon gazed back in shock. His face was white as a sheet, and he kept a cautious hand on his friend’s jacket. “What are you talking about? Who are you going to kill?”

  Julian’s eyes flashed as dark and deadly as Rae had ever seen them. But instead of answering Devon, he turned to her instead. “The bastard.”

  “Who?” Rae whispered, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach fluttering as if warning her to step back.

  “YOUR father!”

  Chapter 12

  The house went dead quiet.

  Devon had his hand on Julian’s jacket. Julian had his hand on Devon’s wrist. And Rae was still standing frozen in the doorway. Half to block it. Half because she couldn’t think to move.

  “I get it now…” Julian murmured, his eyes staring blankly at the wall. “What…Why the crowds were screaming. Simon Kerrigan deserves to die.” A dark chill swept over his entire body. “And now I want to kill him.”

  It was like an icy hand had slipped inside Rae’s body. Squeezing her chest so tight she found it hard to breathe.

  It had been one thing to hear her mother say those words. Of all the people in the world, Beth had the most right. Simon had said he loved her and then he’d tricked her, attacked her, separated her from her child. It didn’t stop there. His actions had gotten her brainwashed and sent off to France to live for years without knowing who, or what, she was.

  It was another thing to hear Dean Wardell say those words. If Beth had the most right, Devon’s father came in a close second. He’d trusted the man with his life. Loved him like a brother. Sacrificed his entire future just to give him a chance. All the while, Simon was killing people behind his back.

  Even Gabriel and Angel had a right to want Simon, her father, dead. Both could echo it back and forth. Simon had let them be trapped in a horrible world they didn’t deserve. Kids left to fend for themselves. And yet, they’d managed to turn things around. However, life wasn’t as sacred to them as it was to the others. And while the rest of the world may have been flailing in Simon’s aftermath, they had been trapped right there with him in the present. Tortured, wounded, threatened. Living their every childhood day in a state of constant fear.

  However, it was another thing entirely to hear those words from Julian.

  Julian—who was always the most level-headed. Who spoke with a wisdom beyond his years.

  Julian—who would never take the easy way out. Succumbing to wild thoughts of revenge.

  Julian—whose moral compass pointed true north.

  In a strange way, it was one of the worst things Rae could imagine happening. To hear Julian Decker say that Simon Kerrigan deserved to die.

  “Jules…” Devon began softly. He had no idea about the folder Rae had found in the reference center. The one that Julian had apparently read that morning. “Can we calm down a moment? I don’t get it. Where’s all of this coming from? Did something happen?” His eyes sharpened suddenly, and he pulled back a fraction of an inch to look his friend up and down. “Did he hurt you? Jules, if he laid a single hand on you, or even Angel, I’ll—”

  “No!” Julian never took his eyes off Rae. He simply stared at her, his entire body still angling towards the door. “She didn’t tell you?”

  Devon’s head whipped around, staring between them. “Didn’t tell me what? What’s going on?”

  A manila folder hit the floor between them. One that, despite looking brand-new just a few hours ago, was already faded and worn. The pages were creased, the edges were frayed, and judging by the faint smears of ink Rae was willing to be that Julian hadn’t set it down since.

  But he’s certainly finished with it now…

  The psychic hurled it to the floor like he couldn’t stand to touch it for a second longer, not even noticing when it burst open and a dozen pages fluttered into the air. “Rae gave it to me this morning. It’s my dad’s file.” He spoke without inflection. In a dangerous voice that was no longer plagued with emotions, because his mind was already made up.

  Devon glanced back at Rae before looking slowly to the floor. Julian’s dad’s picture stared back up at him. In a dozen surveillance photos. Dated a hundred different times.

  “Jules, I…” he trailed off, without the faintest clue as to how to continue. “Where did it—”

  “You really didn’t read it?” Julian asked sharply, his eyes still locked on Rae.

  She carefully shook her head, desperate to slow down the lethal pace at which things were moving. It was a good thing both Tristan Wardell and her father were currently out of the house. Otherwise, she had no idea how this might have turned out differently. “Not a single word. He’s your father, Julian. Not mine—”

  “Oh, but your father was certainly a part of it.” Julian’s eyes flashed again, and in a single swift movement he yanked himself out of Devon’s grasp. “He had the starring role.”

  An automatic shiver flushed Rae’s skin, and she folded her arms bracingly across her chest. “What did he—”

  “He RUINED my life!”

  That rage was back. Breaking through his sudden calm. Hollowing out everything else inside to make room for a single, all-consuming desire.

  Revenge.

  “Julian,” Devon peaceably raised his hands in front of him, “just take a breath. Tell us what happened. We can figure out a way to—”

  “My dad was kidnapped by Cromfield. Abducted when he was nineteen years old.”

  A chilling silence f
ollowed the proclamation. One that no one knew how to break.

  Devon lowered his hands slowly as Rae took a silent step back. She had a terrible idea where this was going. If Cromfield had taken Julian’s father, that must have meant that Simon—

  “Both of your fathers were sent to look for him,” Julian continued in that same dangerous monotone. “They were the PC’s top agents, and apparently at Guilder the three of them had been friends. Tristan Wardell didn’t find him. He looked, of course, but no one knew about Cromfield or St. Stephen’s, so the trail went cold.”

  His eyes burned a hole into Rae’s. Holding her completely frozen. Run, Rae, her inner voice warned her. Whatever Julian was about to tell her, it would change things forever.

  “But Simon found him.”

  It was like all the air got sucked from the room. The world tilted irrevocably on its axis, and the three of them were left standing in a vacuum. A suffocating paralysis with no end in sight.

  An image of the church flashed through Rae’s mind. Of the dank and frightening tunnels that lay just beneath. She could only imagine what would have happened next.

  How her father would have moved down into the caves, just as he had done a million times before. No doubt he’d received a message from Cromfield. They’d gotten some new ink, and would Simon be free to come by and look at it? How he would have pulled open the door of a cell, only to find one of his school friends lying inside. Did he suggest Cromfield take Julian’s dad? Did he help Cromfield in the kidnapping? Or was he shocked when he found him in the cell? Try to save him. What the hell had happened? Rae wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  Devon’s face paled in horror as he stared helplessly at his best friend.

  “…HE left him there.”

  It wasn’t said as a question. They all already knew the answer.

  Julian’s eyes tightened around the edges, and he flinched like he’d been hit. A look of profound devastation tore through him, followed by the deepest kind of hate. “Apparently he tried to cover it up first, though. He tried to brainwash my dad first.” His hands twitched as he recounted the notes from the file, aching to avenge what had been lost. “Tried to take away all his memories. Of what his life had been. Who had imprisoned him. Of my mother. Of me.” The last word came out as a whisper as Julian’s voice cracked. He drew in a painful breath, but forced himself to keep going. “When that didn’t work… Simon left him. For years, he left him there to rot. Wasting away in a cell because Simon knew the second he got out, my dad would expose him for what he really was.” His handsome face darkened with a savage rage.

  “Jules, please…” Rae whispered.

  “A monster. A man who doesn’t deserve to live.”

  The horrified silence enveloped the room again.

  Rae had no idea what to say. No idea at all. It was one thing to hear about the horrible things that her father had done. It was one thing to go back into the past and see them for herself. But it was another thing entirely to find the collateral damage of his actions right there in her living room. To see the haunted look of injury flickering in her best friend’s eyes.

  But Julian wasn’t one to play the victim. And that injury could only last for so long. A story like his required action. Simon had taken something from him, now he would take something back. “Which is something I aim to rectify right now.”

  The frozen living room was suddenly a blur.

  As Devon reached out to stop him, Julian’s eyes flashed prophetic white. He dodged his friend’s attempts without the least bit of effort, and ended up throwing him onto a nearby couch as he moved deliberately to the door.

  A door that Rae still happened to be inadvertently blocking. “Julian,” her voice was no more than a whisper, “you don’t want to do this. You have every right. No one here is denying that you have every right…but this isn’t you. You’re not a killer.”

  He waited patiently for her to finish, but his face was set. No amount of talking or compromising was going to settle it. Simon Kerrigan really had ruined his life. Now he would pay. “Get out of the way,” he answered quietly. “You know I’m not going to touch you, but you also know that your father has it coming. Don’t take this away from me.”

  For a split-second, Rae almost did as he asked. Staring into those dark eyes, she almost forgot herself entirely. Almost allowed him to extract his well-deserved vengeance.

  Fortunately, the decision wasn’t up to her.

  Devon flew out of nowhere, catching Julian off-guard and throwing him back towards the stairs. It was a violent motion—one that would have shocked Rae to the core if she hadn’t spent the last few years watching them spar a lot rougher than that in the Oratory.

  As it stood, Julian was neither hurt nor surprised. But his patience was wearing thin. “Devon, I’m not going to say it again.” His voice scalded the air as he slowly got to his feet. “Stay out of this.”

  Devon’s eyes tightened, but he shook his head. “You know I can’t do that,” he answered quietly, “any more than I can let you go out and murder someone in cold blood.”

  Julian’s face hardened with a fierce anger that he struggled to control. “It’s not up to you. It’s none of your business.” He stepped forward, but once again Devon stood directly in his path.

  “You’re my best friend,” Devon replied simply, his bright eyes shining with the utmost sympathy, “so of course it’s my business. I can’t let you go out and do something we both know you’ll regret. Something you won’t be able to live with come tomorrow morning.”

  “I know the speech,” Julian said shortly. “I’ve given it to you myself. But this isn’t the same thing, Devon. This was my father. I can’t just…this was my father.” His voice rose in volume the more times he said the word, tearing its way through him and leaving a trail of wreckage in its wake. For a split-second, his careful façade cracked. The anger and hatred fell away, leaving nothing but raw devastation in their wake. His breath caught in his chest, and for a minute it looked like he was about to heed his friend’s words and back down.

  Then suddenly, a spinning kick sent Devon flying across the room.

  “Jules!” Rae shrieked, darting forward to survey the damage.

  But Julian never stopped moving. That blinding fury was back, propelling him forward. “He’ll be fine,” he muttered, tapping his temple to prove it. “He’ll be up in a minute—”

  “A lot sooner than that.”

  In a blur of speed, Devon tackled him to the floor. There was a sharp cry, and the two of them rolled around for a moment before Devon came out on top. “Must be pretty damn distracted if you didn’t see that coming.”

  Julian glared up at him, trying and failing to free his hands. “Let go!” he demanded. “Devon, I don’t want to fight you—get the hell off!”

  In a massive display of strength, he wrenched one of his hands free and knocked his best friend across the room.

  Only to end up on his back again a second later.

  “I’d rather have you fight me,” Devon panted, exhausted with the effort of trying to keep him there, “than watch you kill someone. Sorry, Jules, it’s just not going to happen.”

  Julian’s eyes narrowed with a chilling glare before glassing over with a translucent white. Devon froze, staring down apprehensively as his friend searched the future. “Jules,” he muttered, automatically tightening his grip, “don’t do anything stupid. This is me, alright? You don’t want to—”

  The next second, Devon was flying through the air. He crashed through one of the kitchen cabinets, falling to the floor in a pile of splintered wood. As a shower of condiments rained down on top of him, Julian got gracefully to his feet and swept towards the door.

  Rae’s mouth fell open, but no words came out. She had no idea how her beloved psychic was able to do what he just did. No idea how a man with a supposedly passive power could get the drop on one of the greatest warriors the PC had ever seen.

  She had always known that Julian was an
incredible fighter. One of the very best. The fact that he and Devon had been partners since they were sixteen had forced them both to evolve and develop their skills to an almost unheard of degree. Julian had learned how to fight against someone who was gifted with supernatural strength and speed, and Devon had learned how to hold his own against a man who could predict his every move. It was a brilliant pairing. And a lethal one.

  But she had never really seen it in action until today.

  “Julian,” she gasped as he paced towards her once more, “how did you—”

  A sudden crash interrupted her question.

  One minute, Julian was standing in front of her. The next, he was lying in a pile of glass where the coffee table used to be. A loud profanity rang out through the air, but before he could pull himself up a flash of color streaked through the air, and Devon came down upon his chest.

  “I thought we agreed,” he muttered, wiping a drip of mustard from his sleeve, “you were never going to make me look like an idiot in front of my fiancée.”

  If he was hoping the joke was going to ease some of the tension, he was sadly mistaken. The second Julian caught his breath he was cursing once more, pushing away with all his might. “I’m on the…” He winced painfully and shoved against Devon’s chest. “I’m on the glass.”

  Devon lifted him up immediately and brushed away the jagged shards, then shoved him back down once more. At this point, he seemed to firmly have the upper hand. Even Julian sensed it, because his eyes tightened before he banged his head back against the floor.

  “You don’t understand,” he breathed, “I have to do this. He’s taken everything, everything from me—”

  “I know.” Devon’s voice softened and he squeezed his friend’s shoulder, even as he was holding it down. “And that’s why you can’t let him take anything else. You’re not a killer, Jules. You can’t let him turn you into one.”

  Julian’s eyes flashed, and he made a half-hearted attempt to rise. “So, what? He just gets away with it? Like he always does?” A tremor shook through his body, his voice trembling. “Devon, it’s my dad. He left him there—”