by W. J. May
Rae pulled in a deep breath, trying to string enough coherent thoughts together that they would possibly make sense. “I’m relieved that we’re all here today.”
She glanced outside the window to see that Molly had wandered out to the deck with a bowls of popcorn to watch the epic fight. Angel was now passed out cold on the tire swing, slumped over and drooling, and the flame thrower was now the least of the artillery on the field.
“I’m relieved that, after everything we just went through, we’re all still standing. We’re all still here to throw this ridiculous dinner idea. We’re living in this house. We’re trying to…to mend.”
There was a series of screams as Gabriel fell to the grass in a splash of blood.
“Even if we’re going about it in rather unconventional ways.”
She hazarded a glance at her mother’s face, but Beth didn’t seem the least bit put off by anything she was saying. Quite the contrary, despite the gaping hole in her own life, she looked as though she whole-heartedly agreed.
“You’re here with me,” Rae continued, taking her by the hand with a smile. “Despite all the odds, all the impossible things that were stacked against us—we’re both still standing here. Washing dishes just like none of it ever happened.” Then she looked down at their hands, and her smile faded. “…and my father’s not dead.”
Beth’s fingers stiffened, but she didn’t pull away. Her eyes watered, but she didn’t cry. She simply bowed her head to her chest with a quiet sigh.
“Mom, I can’t be happy about that. I can’t be happy that he’s alive.” Rae hesitated, trying to frame it the correct way. “But I couldn’t be happy he was dead, either. The only thing I can really feel is… relieved.”
There was a long pause. Filled only with the occasional scream from outside.
Rae hesitated and then asked her mother a question softly, “Does that make me a terrible person?”
“No, sweetie. Of course not.” Beth gathered her into her arms, ignoring the soap suds that came between them. “It isn’t human to be happy that other people are dead. No matter how much they might deserve it. And it isn’t rational to be happy that a man like Simon is alive.” Her arms tightened, crushing her daughter protectively against her chest. “In times like this… the most you can be is relieved.”
Rae caught her breath and nodded. Relieved all over again just to have gotten it all off her chest. But when they pulled way, her voice was soft as a whisper. “But you’re not.”
It was a throwaway line. One designed only to provoke a response.
Beth sighed and returned to the dishes, wiping them dry with a robotic efficiency. “No, Rae. I can never be relieved that Simon’s alive. Not after what he’s done. Not after…”
Carter.
The unspoken name rang out between them, and for a second it felt like neither one could catch their breath. Beth’s entire body flinched, as if a giant weight had been dropped upon her, and without seeming to think about it she cradled the hand with her diamond ring.
“Mom, I—”
But then Beth was off. Breezing from the kitchen without another word. Leaving a stack of dripping dishes behind her.
Under normal circumstances, Rae would have let her go. Under normal circumstances, she would have bent over backwards to give her mother all the space she needed to work through this unspeakable grief. Under normal circumstances, she would have turned back to the sink and finished doing the dishes herself.
Except that Beth hadn’t left the kitchen empty-handed. She’d taken a knife.
“Mom?!” Rae tore after her, dropping the plate she’d been holding onto the tile floor. She could still hear it shattering as she raced through the living room to the back hallway that led to the basement.
But Beth wasn’t there.
Confused and panting Rae froze in place, whirling around as if at any moment she might pop back into sight. There was a faint buzzing in her skin as her body switched automatically to a handy tracking tatù—curtesy of Ellie’s boyfriend, Jake. She had never used the ink before, but the premise seemed simple.
Sure enough, the second she focused on her mother her exact location floated through Rae’s head. But what the… Her mother had taken a knife and run to the bathroom?!
It was even worse than Rae had thought!
“MOM!” she screamed, switching ink again to the raw power of Jennifer’s leopard.
Why, of all the moments in the world, did she have to pick that exact one for a spontaneous confession?! She felt relieved?! When her mother had just lost the only man she’d ever really loved?! Of course she was high-tailing it to the bathroom with a blade! Rae could only hope she’d get there in time. Panic seized her lungs and she tried to breathe around it.
“MOM!” She flew up the stairs, five at a time. “Don’t you dare do anything—”
But a second before she could kick down the door, it opened by itself.
Beth stood just inside the frame, staring at her curiously. The sharpened blade in one hand, a can of shaving cream in the other. “Rae?” She lifted her eyebrows with motherly concern. “Are you okay, honey?”
The world slowed back down into focus as Rae tried slowly to catch her breath. Over the last few years, she had learned not to take chances with sudden departures and sharp objects. But looking at her mother now, her blind panic seemed a bit premature. “Yeah, of course.” She casually leaned against the doorframe and blew a lock of hair up out of her face. “Uh…what’re you doing?”
The hint of a smile tugged at Beth’s lips, but she kept a straight face.
“We can’t have Anthony Fodder meeting with a man who, I can only presume, looks like the last Alcatraz survivor.” She held up the shaving cream. “Do you think Devon will mind?”
It took a second for Rae to switch tracks. Her eyes flickered cartoonishly between the can and the blade before coming to rest on her mother. “Not, not at all but…you’re going to shave him?”
And ironic smile flitted across Beth’s face as she examined the sharpened knife with a hint of satisfaction. “Someone’s got to, and I can’t trust him with a razor.”
“Yeah, but…do you need to use a carving knife?”
“Relax, honey.” Beth patted Rae’s shoulder as she headed down the stairs. “Mommy and Daddy are just going to have a little chat…”
* * *
“—and then she went down into the basement. And I haven’t heard from her since.” Rae nervously wrung her hands, terrified she had done the wrong thing.
The war games in the front yard had come to an abrupt halt when she had summoned her friends inside with a single, telepathic shriek. Their reactions to such things had been programmed the same as hers and in no time at all they were back in their ring of chairs.
“I’m sure they’re just talking,” Molly said soothingly. “You heard your mom when we stopped her the first time. It’ll all work out.” Molly flicked her hair over her shoulder. “We don’t kill people in cold blood.”
There was a derisive snort behind her as Angel folded her arms across her chest. “That is, without a doubt, the stupidest thing you have ever said.” The sardonic blonde had woken up about ten minutes before with a splitting headache, only to remember what had made her go out and drink in the first place. She wasn’t exactly taking it well.
Molly flashed her a glare before turning suddenly smug. “It wasn’t me who said it—it was your brother.”
Angel glanced at Gabriel, looking deeply disturbed, then shrugged dismissively. “He was drunk.”
“He was right,” Julian corrected firmly. His beloved might blur the lines on occasion, but on this point they all had to be absolutely clear. “We don’t kill for revenge. We all know that.” He lifted his eyes to Rae. “And Beth does, too. Don’t worry. She knows what she’s doing.”
Rae nodded quickly, but couldn’t seem to slow down her racing heart. No matter what she did, she couldn’t get the image out of her head: her mother standing behind the i
nterrogation chair in the basement, holding a carving knife to her father’s throat.
Whether there was shaving cream present didn’t make much of a difference.
“I know, it’s just…” She bit her lip. “Will you check for me, Jules?”
“Rae!” Angel snapped.
Even Devon gave her a surprised look, but she was undeterred. The others might not have seen it, but Julian had already used his power once before. To make sure Molly would be safe, when Simon first walked into the bathroom. Surely he could use it again—just for this.
The psychic looked uncertain.
“I don’t…” He paused and started again. “Rae, I’m sure it’s going to be fine.”
“Yeah, it is, babe.” Devon caught her arm, putting a stop to her frantic pacing. “If you like, I can even go to the door to check.”
“No,” Rae stopped him quickly. “This is the first time the two of them are talking in over a decade. I mean, think about it. They’re still technically married, for Pete’s sake! They deserve a little privacy. I just…” She caught her breath, “Jules, I just don’t want to lift the turkey tray cover tomorrow at dinner and find my dad’s head on a silver platter.” Before anyone could shoot the idea down, she echoed her words from before. “Stranger things have happened.”
Julian sighed and pulled his hair back away from his face. A little ash fell to the floor after his run-in with the flamethrower. “Just this once,” he warned. “That’s it, Kerrigan.”
“Just this once,” she echoed, lifting to her toes in anticipation.
He took a deep breath, steeled himself against the tiles, just as they had done so many times before his eyes glassed over to an iridescent white.
It was strange. Rae had seen him do this so many times over the years, it had almost become second nature. But it wasn’t until seeing it now that she realized how long it had been.
Just this once, she told herself. And it hasn’t been that long. Only seven days.
But in so many ways, it felt a lot longer.
The ghostly eyes and clairvoyant sight that allowed Julian to peer into the future may have stroked out your average spectator, but to people like Rae and her friends, people with tatùs, it was as natural as breathing.
What wasn’t natural was suppression of that ink.
Without boasting, Rae could honestly say that Julian was the most gifted psychic to have ever walked the planet. Time had a looser grip on him that it did on the others. He could see between the worlds by merely opening his eyes. Unlock a thousand uncharted futures and dimensions by simply willing it so. She couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like for him to have stayed grounded in the present for so long.
Sure enough, the second he ‘tranced out,’ as the others like to call it, his entire body relaxed with the deepest feeling of relief. It was like watching someone finally coming up for air after having been trapped underwater for so long.
But before she could take any comfort in that fact, his entire expression changed. Usually, he was just blank. It didn’t matter whether he was seeing the outcome of a sports match, or the end of the world. There wouldn’t be a shred of emotion on his face to clue you in.
This was a bit different. He was already beginning to frown by the time his eyes cleared.
“Jules?” As usual Devon stepped forward first, standing side by side with Angel as they looked him over with concern. “What is it? What did you see?”
Instead of answering, Julian turned his head towards the front door. The others followed suit. No sooner had they done so than the doorbell rang.
“Who is it?” Molly asked, shrinking back. Luke took her by the hand, and without seeming to think about it the two of them started backing up the stairs. “Knights? Council?”
Julian just stared in shock for another moment before slowly shaking his head. A look of utter disbelief flitted across his face, then his lips turned up with a wry smile.
“Just answer the door, Rae,” he muttered, bracing himself for yet another unimaginable twist of fate. “I wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
With a feeling of great trepidation, Rae walked slowly to the door. If it was anything dangerous, Julian wouldn’t have let her do it. But ‘not dangerous’ didn’t necessarily mean ‘not bad.’
Just do it, Rae. You asked for it.
She yanked it open before she could stop herself, squaring her shoulders with the grit of someone who’d had to do this sort of thing too many times before.
But nothing in the world could have prepared Rae for what happened next.
She stared, her mouth hanging open.
People moved behind her to see who was there.
“Kraigan?!” Rae blinked and made an effort to try to close her mouth.
Her half-brother looked up at her with a lopsided grin, his arms held securely behind his back by a small squadron of police.
“I got your message, and here I am!” he said proudly, seemingly unaware that he was dripping a steady pool of blood onto the front porch. “And a day early, I might add.”
Rae couldn’t seem to get her mouth to close. Couldn’t do anything other than gape in shock at what had to be the cruelest timing the cosmos had yet to provide.
“My… my message?” she repeated in shock, trying to summon back her senses.
After getting a permissive look from the nearest officer holding him, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a rumpled card. Even from where she stood, Rae could see the blood-stained turkey.
“Happy Thanksgiving, sis. It’s going to be one for the books.”
Chapter 13
Rae locked her eyes onto the decorative little turkey like it had come from hell itself. “I didn’t give you that,” she said accusingly. As if by simply denying the problem existed it might have the decency to go away. “Where the heck did you get that, Kraigan? I never sent you an invitation. I don’t even know where you live at the moment!”
His smile turned grim. “An oversight—I presume. Anyway, I found it when I raided Gabriel’s apartment the other night. Decided to stop on by and say hello.”
“You raided my apartment?” Gabriel asked sharply.
At this, Kraigan looked remarkably sincere. “Yeah, dude. I was hoping you might want to hang out? You know, like back in Scotland?”
Gabriel was unmoved. “How do you know where I live?”
Kraigan shrugged, not looking the least bit sheepish. “I have my ways.”
Rae threw up her hands. “Not the point, Kraigan. Why did you—”
“I’m sorry to interrupt this little family dispute,” an officer interrupted rudely, sounding not sorry at all, “but are you Rachel Kerrigan?”
The entire gang blinked in unison, staring at the officer.
Well, I’ve never heard that one before…
“Uh, it’s Rae, actually.” She nervously tucked her wavy hair behind her ears. For a blissful moment, she had somehow forgotten about the police standing at her door. “What seems to be—”
“I thought Rae was short for Rachel,” the officer insisted, as if it could have possibly mattered less.
For a second, she almost went along with it. If for no other reason than to expedite things.
“Sorry, no. But is there something I could…I could help you with, Officer?” She felt ridiculous. Like she was reading lines out of a play.
The entire squadron seemed to swell with importance as they shoved Kraigan a step or two forward.
The man, who Rae was certain still thought her name was Rachel, took the lead. “We responded to a local disturbance a few days ago; turned out to be a bit bigger than we thought. Protocol says that after releasing unclaimed persons from a seventy-two-hour hold, we’re required to deliver them to next of kin.” He cocked his head towards Kraigan, who was watching Rae with a sly smile. “He says he’s related to you?”
That son of a bitch. Of course he did. The one time he’ll claim me as his family, without denying it outright, has to be the
day that he’s released from a psychiatric hold.
Rae was too busy fuming to answer, so reinforcements—aka her friends—swooped in to the rescue.
“His family’s dead,” Angel replied unfeelingly. “He’s a bloody orphan. Take him away. I’m sure you have a facility where you can permanently lock up people like him.”
For possibly the first time ever, Devon looked like he wanted to give Angel a high-five.
But despite the general urge to agree with her sentiment, the others had the self-control to at least keep it to themselves. Things had changed after the ‘battle to save the world.’ Alliances had been replaced with friendships. Friendships had been replaced with family. There were some things that bonded you, with ties so strong they could never be broken.
No matter how much you might want to.
“What happened?” Rae didn’t direct her question at the police, but at Kraigan himself. While the stakes might have been as high as they came, he responded like his signature, flippant self.
“You know,” he shrugged, “just the usual. I’m a danger to myself and others. A general menace to society. I need to be “stopped” and somehow “controlled”. You know how it goes.”
He actually used sarcastic little air-quotes when he said “stopped” and “controlled”. Rae decided killing him right then might be his best option. Except for that little thing about immortality. If he still had Cromfield’s ink, it would be too effective. She shrugged. It might be worth a try.
Fortunately, the policeman stepped in between.
“We found him jumping in front of a train at Waterloo Station.”
It took a lot to surprise Rae at this point, but that did the trick.
“Kraigan?”
He answered her fearful question with a knowing smirk, kicking his feet to deliberately scuff up their porch. A second later, a burst of understanding narrowed Rae’s eyes.
Testing the limits of his newfound immortality, is he?
“We asked him if he was trying to commit suicide, but he flat-out denied it,” the officer continued. When this made no impact he leaned forward, enunciating every word to really drive the point home. “Apparently, he didn’t think it would hurt him.”
