A Matter of Time: Paranormal, Tattoo, Supernatural, Romance (The Chronicles of Kerrigan Sequel Book 1)

by W. J. May

  “What?” Rae went suddenly rigid, gripping the edge of the table in front of her. “What do you mean? What would I have to report?”

  Fodder paused, looking her over curiously. “Well nothing, I expect. It was just a cursory inspection—”

  “Good.” She pushed quickly to her feet. “Well, then, if that’s all, gentlemen, I think we’re finished here.”

  The rest of the room pushed back their chairs as well, shooting each other sideways glances as they nodded a polite farewell and headed to the door. Rae watched them go with that same sickly feeling in her stomach, feeling like, for the fourth time, she had somehow failed them.

  More importantly, feeling like she had somehow failed Carter.

  “It will get easier.” Fodder was the last to go, gazing around the empty room before gesturing her out ahead of him. “I promise.”

  Rae flashed him a weak smile, but shook her head. “I don’t see how it could possibly get any worse.”

  He chuckled, holding open the door. “You should’ve seen some of my first meetings when I was first elected Commander of the Knights. Trust me, Rae. You’re doing just fine.”

  “I’m a quarter of most of their ages,” she muttered under her breath, nodding politely at a cluster still lingering in the Oratory. “How am I supposed to ‘take charge’ when out of every person in the room I’m the one with the least experience?”

  “You’re the one they elected,” he said firmly, pushing open the double-doors and heading out with her to the parking lot. “For better or worse, you’re their chosen leader. And I wouldn’t say you have the least experience. In fact, when it comes to rallying an entire community to action, I’d say you might even have the most.”

  She glanced up at him. “Not more than you.”

  He laughed again, sounding very much like his son. “Well, not every leader can be as naturally gifted and experienced as me.”

  She couldn’t help but grin as they made their way through the lot.

  Ever since Fodder had found out that he was going to be a grandfather, just a few short days after the battle, it seemed like his entire perspective on life had changed. Gone was the man who never smiled. The man who valued precision and order above all else. He had been replaced with someone Rae hardly even recognized. Someone who unbuttoned his collar and dared to come to work without a tie. Someone who made jokes and laughed in a voice just like his son. Someone who stepped in for her at meetings and called her by her first name.

  She had always respected Luke’s father. Always counted on him to be there when he was needed, and do what was right. Now, she was beginning to see him as a friend.

  And on that note…

  “Actually, Rae,” he began hesitantly, “I was wondering if it would be alright if I stopped by the house later today? Checked in on Molly…?”

  He’s asking my permission? For a split second, Rae thought that ‘first name’ bit might have been strategic after all. But then the defenses lowered, and she acknowledged that wasn’t true.

  It had been Fodder who had carried Molly out of the factory the day of the fight. Luke was too far away, up in the sniper tower, to get to her as the dust began to settle. And she had broken a bone in her ankle, rendering her stranded on a high ledge with an excruciating limp.

  Fodder had swooped in before she’d taken three steps.

  He had watched her periodically throughout the battle. Whenever he had a free second, he found himself automatically scanning around for those people dearest to him. Much to his great surprise, he later admitted to Rae he found himself automatically including Molly in that list.

  She was easy to spot, between the waves of neon lightning and the fiery wave of hair. But it was like Fodder hadn’t really seen her until that day. Fighting tooth and nail for the people she loved. Risking everything she had to get them all one step closer. By the time he made it up to the ledge to reach her, he’d had to wade through a body count that was at least five high.

  “Yeah, that sounds…” But Rae trailed off suddenly as she realized what a visit from the Commander might imply. “Actually, today’s probably not the best. She’s been super sick these past few mornings, and Luke won’t leave her side. Maybe a raincheck?”

  She felt horrible saying it. Any chance at ‘family time’ the three of them had to get to know each other was time well spent. But she couldn’t exactly see that working with Simon Kerrigan locked in the basement just two stories below.

  “Oh, of course.” Fodder recovered himself quickly, looking embarrassed to have possibly overstepped. Rae’s heart went out to him, but before she could say anything he looked up with a bright smile. “At any rate, I’ll be over for your Thanksgiving.”

  Rae blinked. Then shook her head. Then blinked again.

  “I’m sorry…” A fixed smile froze crookedly on her face. “Thanksgiving?”

  “That’s still on, isn’t it?” he queried. “You seemed rather insistent with your invitation.”

  Insistent was understating it. Rae had been a holiday monster. Sure—it wasn’t your typical English celebration, but it was one she’d been raised with in New York. Holidays were supposed to be fun. Were supposed to bring people together. To bask in each other’s company while indulging themselves in entirely too much food. And while it certainly didn’t feel as though they had much to be thankful for this year, looking at it from a different perspective they absolutely did.

  They were alive, damn it. They had made it through. The only person no longer with them had given his life to ensure that they keep theirs. They were going to honor his sacrifice. They were going to live it out to the fullest. And they were going to set a place at the table for Carter.

  “Yes, it’s—it’s definitely still on,” Rae said quickly, trying to fight off a rising panic attack. “I just hadn’t realized it was coming up so soon.”

  “The day after tomorrow,” Fodder replied. “Fifteen-hundred hours?”

  Rae fought the desire to roll her eyes. “Three o’clock. Yeah.”

  “Good.” He nodded briskly. “I’m bringing pie.”

  He was off without another word, racing out of the parking lot at a speed that would have made Devon and Julian proud. It wasn’t until he had already vanished around the shaded drive that Rae sucked in her first panicked gasp.

  This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening

  Then…

  THIS IS HAPPENING!

  Right on cue, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She picked it up without even looking, eyes still fixed on the place where Fodder had disappeared from view.

  “Babe?”

  Thank the Maker!

  “Devon?! Listen, we’ve got a big problem—”

  But far from calming her down, Devon was having problems of his own.

  “Yeah, you could say that.” He sounded nearly as distressed as she was. “Your mom just called. She wants to know who’s picking her up from the airport.”

  Chapter 10

  From a bird’s eye view, Rae Kerrigan must have looked completely deranged. First freezing dead in place—hands still raised in the air in front of her. Then a blur of sudden speed, too fast to have possibly been human. Then coming to a standstill again, looking positively stunned.

  Such was the way of things that morning. It was a series of starts and stops. Each more manic and disorienting than the last.

  As slowly as Rae had driven out to Guilder, she made up for it now by racing back—flying through the countryside at a speed that would be considered most unwise now that she was no longer immortal. Lines of trees and the thatched roofs of little cottages became a picturesque blur, one that she hardly saw as she screeched into the driveway, sending up a spray of gravel in her wake.

  “Devon?” she called as she streaked into the house. Her body had switched into Riley’s cheetah tatù the second they’d hung up the phone, and she was having trouble slowing it down to move at an even remotely normal speed. She spotted a head of dark hair in the kitchen,
and raced over, tossing her coat on the floor. “There you are! Listen, we’re going to have to—”

  She stopped cold the second she saw his face. Saw that careful smile that only barely disguised the traces of utter panic beneath.

  “Look who’s up!” he said pointedly, gesturing over his shoulder with a strained grin.

  Rae took a split second to shift gears, then looked behind him to realize that the little kitchen was filled to the brim. Filled with smiling faces. One face stood out in particular.

  “Molly!”

  The tiny redhead stepped forward, looking better than she had in days. One hand was clutched firmly in Luke’s, while the other held onto a steaming mug of tea like it was a life raft. Rae could smell the ginger all the way across the room.

  “In the flesh!” Molly beamed, still weak but smiling. “You think this is impressive—I was able to eat an entire saltine right before you got here. Happened right over there.”

  She pointed over to the kitchen table with a look of great importance, and despite the massive storm cloud hovering just overhead Rae couldn’t help but chuckle as she moved forward to give her best friend a gentle hug. For the first time in ages, she didn’t feel like it might break Molly to do so. There was a hint of color in her pale cheeks. A delicate shade of pink that seemed to get stronger the more she drank.

  Well, that explains it…

  The hopeful vibe. The smiling faces. The Norman Rockwell impersonation.

  Quite the contrast from where they were yesterday afternoon. It seemed that everyone had needed to take a step back from the ‘Simon Kerrigan’ fiasco as much as she did. And Molly’s recovery was the perfect reason to do it.

  “I’m so glad you’re feeling better!” Rae gripped her as tight as she dared, before pulling back to flash Luke a warm smile as well. “You look like you’re feeling better, too.”

  That was understating it.

  It was like he’d gone through some sort of magical transformation. Gone were the dark hollows beneath his eyes and cheekbones. Vanished was the blind, unadulterated panic that had perpetually dilated his eyes. When she’d raced into the bathroom the previous day to find Molly lying on the floor, Rae literally thought they might have to give Luke some sort of sedative as well.

  But now…?

  It looked like a flame had been lit inside him, illuminating him from the inside out. His eyes sparkled as they stared down at the top of Molly’s head, and even when she and Rae had tried to lean in for an embrace he wouldn’t let go of her hand. He held on awkwardly instead, pulling her right back into his chest the second they were done.

  “Oh, I know.” Molly lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Didn’t he look awful? I mean, I feel like it’s the elephant in the room—maybe we should just get it over with and talk about it.”

  That was the elephant? Not that Simon Kerrigan was tied up in the basement?

  Yep, they needed a break alright.

  And if the Privy Council had taught Rae anything, it was how to compartmentalize…

  She flashed Luke an incredulous look, but he simply closed his eyes with a long-suffering grin. “Honey, I told you, I had more important things on my mind than to deep condition.”

  The rest of the room snickered quietly, but Molly had never been more serious. “Sweetheart, I know it’s uncomfortable, but we have to talk about it. Friends hold friends accountable. Here, I’ll even go first.” She looked encouragingly around the room, as if staging some sort of misguided intervention. “I think you honestly looked better when you were in a coma.”

  Classic Molly.

  She turned with a gracious smile to Julian, hoping to pass the torch, but he wasn’t having it. Instead, he swooped down without the slightest bit of warning and kissed her on the cheek.

  “We missed you, Molls.” He stepped back with a grin, ruffling her wavy hair. A bolt of lightning was quick to follow.

  Yep…she’s back.

  “Breakfast?” he queried, stepping strategically behind Devon to avoid her wrath. It was only then that Rae realized there was something burning on the stove. “My treat.”

  Despite the sad state of whatever was supposed to be cooking in the pan, Rae nodded with an overabundance of enthusiasm and helped herself to some coffee. If she had come here to deliver yet another bombshell, perhaps it was best they didn’t hear it on an empty stomach. Not to mention, it would give her more time to come up with some sort of plan.

  “Absolutely!” She took her first sip, staring curiously at the stove. “Uh…what is it?”

  Julian beamed with pride. “Pancakes.”

  A spray of coffee flew through her nose.

  Pancakes. It had to be pancakes.

  The room turned to stare at her in slow motion as she grabbed a napkin, dabbing furiously at her face. “Actually, uh…I think I’m good on breakfast.”

  “Really?” Julian looked hurt. “You love pancakes.”

  “Jules,” Molly said gently, “that looks like something died.”

  He prodded at it hopefully with the spatula, but when pieces of it actually splintered away, he flipped off the burner with a sigh. “It looked so easy online…”

  “You didn’t use any butter,” Luke explained, coming over to investigate. The two of them peered down into the smoking pan like scientists observing an experiment gone awry. “You need some sort of oil on there, otherwise it will stick to the pan.”

  “How do you possibly know that?” Molly piped up, coming to stand between them. “The last thing you tried to ‘cook’ for me was soup, and you managed to break our microwave.”

  Luke avoided her eyes and flushed defensively. “After which time, I began reading up on it.”

  Rae watched their every move, growing more and more depressed by the second.

  They were trying. Trying so hard to act like they were getting better. Trying so hard to act like everything was going back to normal, despite the lunatic she’d stashed in the basement. And now, she was about to pull the rug out from under them once again.

  Across the kitchen, Devon nodded encouragingly and tapped his watch. The time for stall tactics had passed. They were on a deadline.

  Right. No problem. Just ease into it.

  “Hey, guys…?” she began tentatively.

  “Maybe there’s still a chance of resurrecting it,” Julian said hopefully. “What if we added some flour? You know, to lighten it up a little?”

  Molly seized upon this idea enthusiastically, but Luke shook his head.

  “And then what? Hold a séance? No, we need to start from the beginning.”

  “Guys?”

  “You know what you should do, Julian, is get drunk,” Molly said practically. “You know how whiskey steadies your hands. That’s why Devon’s stitches turned out so well.”

  Julian rubbed his chin. “That’s true. I’m not sure what we have here, but—”

  “It’s ten in the morning!” Luke cried in exasperation. “No! It is possible to make pancakes while sober. Trust me. We just need to—”

  “THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW IS THANKSGIVING!”

  Not exactly easing in, but it got the message across…

  The three of them slowly turned back around, blinking with matching expressions of shock as the stove smoked steadily behind them. Whether they were making the connection with Simon or they simply thought she was having a festive meltdown was unclear.

  Finally, after a long silence, it was Julian who spoke.

  “Well that’s…ironic.”

  * * *

  Plans were set aside for later, the fire on the stove was put out, and reinforcements were called in. Both Gabriel and Angel had been conspicuously absent the entire morning, but after numerous tries Julian was finally able to get a hold of Angel on her cell.

  “Are they coming?” Rae asked as he joined the rest of them in the parlor.

  They had set up a makeshift command station in the center of the room, pulling their chairs around in a tight circle. It was a meth
od they had used many times before when gearing up for a battle. One way or another, the looming holiday wasn’t shaping up to be much different.

  “Yeah, they’re on their way.” He took a seat beside Devon with a little frown. “She sounded weird, though. Off…somehow. I couldn’t hear well enough to figure out why.”

  “Maybe it’s because she knows the sky is about to come crashing down on our heads.” Molly smiled sweetly. The faster the ginger worked its way through her system, perking up her deadened nerve endings, the faster she’d deflected the blame for their present situation with the force of a nova. “I still maintain that if I hadn’t been holed up in the bathroom, trying to grow this little monster, none of this would have happened.”

  “Yeah, yeah, we know.” Devon rubbed his temples. “You’re the voice of reason.”

  “Damn right, Wardell. And I’d watch that tone if I were you. Unless you want me to call off your wedding.”

  He rolled his eyes dismissively, but the longer she stared at him the more nervous he seemed to become. Finally, he shifted casually in his seat towards Rae. His obviously restless fiancée. “Can she really do that?”

  “Haven’t you heard,” Rae kept her eyes on the door, “it’s Molly’s wedding. We’re just the ones who happen to be getting married.”

  The boys laughed softly before trailing off into nervous silence. Molly was the only one who didn’t seem to think it was a joke, but she, too, kept her eyes on the clock. It wasn’t until they heard the rev of an engine, followed by the telltale crunch of gravel under boots, that they managed to really breathe for the first time.

  Gabriel and Angel would know what to do.

  It was an unspoken assumption. One that every person seated in the ring of chairs realized they had come to rely upon more than they realized. Whenever things got too twisted, whenever the ethical compass was buried so far in the mud they couldn’t see which way to go, they turned to their resident sociopaths to point them in the right direction.