by W. J. May
“Evening, Charlie,” Rae said with a smile as she put the car in park.
The young man sitting behind the desk hurried forward, both nervous and excited to be talking to such an illustrious visitor. “Good evening, President Kerrigan!”
Rae flinched. “Charlie, we’ve been through this about a hundred times. I’m, like, four years older than you. Will you please call me Rae?”
“Not a chance, President Kerrigan,” he said with a grin, glancing back to see Devon resting his head against the glass. “Late night?”
Rae glanced back casually before tossing him another smile. “A couple of late nights, actually. I can’t believe how much paperwork comes with this job you all foisted on me. I actually left some in my office and that’s why we’re swinging by.”
“Oh, no problem.” He hurried to open the gate, bowing his head politely as she sped on through. “I’ll just…leave it open for you then?”
“Thanks, Charlie!” she called as they shot off down the drive.
The second they were out of sight, Devon slowly lifted his head. The moonlit trees and familiar scenery did nothing to soothe his nerves. If anything, he felt even more apprehensive to have brought such a dangerous criminal within the walls of the school.
“He likes you.”
Rae glanced back in the mirror with a frown. “What?”
“Charlie. He likes you.”
She snorted and shook her head. “Charlie’s a sixteen-year-old boy. He likes everything that happens to walk and have breasts at the same time.”
Devon grinned faintly out the window. “It’s more than that. He’s got a serious crush.”
Rae glanced back once more, bewildered as to why they were having such a trivial conversation in light of heavier things. Then Devon flashed a hint of those adorable dimples, and she realized that fixating on a trivial conversation to distract from such things may have been exactly the point.
“I guess we’ll just see where it goes.” She shrugged causally. “I’ve been framing his poems, answering his letters…trying to keep an open mind.”
“You should loan him some of your shoes,” Devon replied lightly. “It’s the only way he’ll even come close to your height. You know, if there’s going to be kissing involved…”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she said flatly, aiming for the parking space nearest to the Oratory door. “Getting Charlie all dressed up like that. Maybe he’s not the only one who’s got a little crush.”
At this, Devon laughed out loud. But he stopped quickly as the car came to a stop and she shut off the engine. They both stared at the door for a moment before she turned around with a little sigh.
Rae inhaled deeply. “Are you sure you just don’t want to run in and get it? You’re the one who knows what it looks like.”
There was not an inch of compromise on Devon’s face. “Not a chance in hell. I’m staying here with him. If he wakes up…you’re not going to be anywhere close, do you hear me?”
She rolled her eyes and stifled another sigh. “Fine. Just tell me again where it is.”
“There’s a supply closet, just next to the back-up power generator.” Her face blanked, and it was his turn to roll his eyes. “Next to the picture of that guy you always say looks like a ferret.”
Rae nodded in a moment of illumination. “Oh, right.”
“Inside, there’s a whole box. It’s not exactly proprietary technology, so they’re pretty casual about storing it. A tiny, metallic triangle. That’s what it’s going to look like.”
“Got it.” She slipped out without another word, moving quickly towards her destination. But halfway there, she suddenly turned back around. Devon met her eyes through the back window, frowning a question as she stopped just a few feet in front of the door. She pulled in a deep breath, then pressed her fingers against her lips, mouthing two words: ‘Thank you.’
His eyes softened as his lips pulled up into a gentle smile. Even through the tinting, even from a distance, she saw as clear as day when he mouthed back, ‘Anytime.’
Then there was no more time to waste. The next second, she was opening the door.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, they were flying down another country road, speeding beneath the stars as Rae searched ahead for their exit. The ‘tatù-inhibitors’ had been just as easy to find as Devon had predicted, and since she had been technically voted in charge of the place no one paid her the slightest bit of attention as she unlocked the door with a master key and took everything she needed.
She had ended up getting three. One would do it, Devon had said. But she wasn’t taking any chances. Considering the current situation, she had been down-playing her own fear. Trying to convince herself that, should the time come, she would be both able and willing to do whatever it took to restrain her father.
But, truth be told, she wasn’t sure if either one of those things was true. As much as Rae Kerrigan had become an underground legend overnight—Simon was the original. There was a reason that his very name struck fear into the hearts of the masses. There was a reason that he had been able to go free as long as he had.
The man was simply unbeatable.
WAS unbeatable. Past tense. But that’s all he is, and that’s where he belongs. The past. I’d like to see him even try anything in front of me or Devon.
The confident voice convinced her until she spotted the house up ahead and pulled down the long gravel driveway. The second she saw the boathouse, it completely died.
No. I wouldn’t like to see that at all.
All the lights were on, though it was already past midnight. The golden glow leaked out of the windows, spilling out across the grassy lawn with a false sense of cheer. Rae glanced up at the pillared doors with a sigh. False cheer was right. The painted smiles and forced calm her friends put on might fool the rest of the world, but she knew better.
Chances were, they had all already gone to bed. The lights were all on simply because none of them could sleep in the darkness.
She flipped off the headlights as they approached, and they rolled to a slow stop behind the cover of the boathouse. When they’d first started searching for their countryside retreat, the only criteria were that it was isolated and big enough to fit all of them. It wasn’t until the boys saw the option with the boathouse that they realized they needed a place to put all their cars.
“Alright,” she whispered, glancing nervously up at the house, “are you ready?”
Devon followed her gaze, his bright eyes clouding as they fixed on Julian’s window.
“Rae…are you sure we can’t just tell them? They’re going to find out soon enough anyway, and if he’s going to be staying so close they have more than a right to know.” His foot tapped nervously in place just thinking of it. “I’m surprised Jules hasn’t come out here already.”
“But he hasn’t,” Rae said firmly. “Because he can’t. None of them can. Not right now, Devon. They need time, you know that. They can’t handle something like this. Not after everything that’s happened.”
He tore his eyes away from the house and met her stare in the mirror. “This feels a lot like the time you didn’t tell me before running into a huge fight. When you made the decision for the both of us and left me behind, to protect me.”
Rae’s chest tightened. Yes, it did feel an awful lot like that time. In fact, she could almost hear the screaming arguments that were sure to come.
For now, at least for tonight, they would keep this between themselves. They only had so long before this bomb eventually went off. She was determined to shield her friends from the blast of it for as long as possible.
“Let’s just get him inside, okay?” she said quietly, slipping from the car. When he hesitated, she opened his door and took him by the hand. “Devon…please.”
Their eyes met for a moment before he nodded. The next second, they were circling around to the trunk, gazing down at it with frightful apprehension.
“What are we
going to do if he jumps out?” Rae asked quietly. “I’ve never tried to keep up Angel’s ink for so long before. I’m sure it wore off the second I stepped inside the Oratory.”
She had been trying so hard to hold it all together, especially because Devon wasn’t exactly on board with her not-so-brilliant plan. But now that the moment was staring them in the face, she found herself suddenly terrified.
His hand slipped into hers.
“If he jumps out, then you get out of the way and let me take it.” His face was stern and his voice carried a serious warning. “I’m serious, Rae. Don’t try to do anything brave. If he takes my power, you still have all of yours to stop him. If he gets his hands on you…there’s no telling what he might be able to do.”
She nodded quickly, biting down hard on her lip. Just another terrible glitch in an already terribly thought out idea. Just another terrible outcome she couldn’t bring herself to think about.
“Hey,” his fingers squeezed hers, and she looked up to see a reassuring smile, “chances are he’s not even awake. The man’s been living in a cave for almost fifteen years, and I’ve sparred with you enough times to know that you throw a mean right hook. Just take a breath. It’ll be fine.”
“Right.” She nodded quickly. “It’ll be fine. He’s probably not even awake.”
Devon gave her a swift kiss on the lips, and they both braced in the gravel. Then, before either one of them could change their minds, he pulled open the trunk.
Simon Kerrigan was smiling back at them.
Devon and Rae gasped at the same time.
Simon kept smiling. “So…is this the part where I’m supposed to jump out and yell boo?”
Chapter 3
The trunk lid slammed back down again. Rae and Devon leapt away as if they’d been burned.
“Crap!” she whispered, clutching her hair. “Crap! Crap! Crap!”
Devon had started pacing back and forth, his feet blurring with speed on the gravel drive while his eyes stayed fixed upon the car. “This…we can’t…we can’t do this.”
“Crap! Freakin’ crap!”
“This is crazy! We can’t…this can’t be happening right now.”
“Devon, he’s awake!”
The pacing stopped. A pair of strong hand grabbed her shoulders. “Yeah, genius. I saw that he’s awake!”
Rae nodded quickly, sensing a bit of an accusation. Perhaps it was the look on his face. Or the fact that he’d somehow screamed it in a hushed undertone. “Okay, well…it’s going to be alright,” she began tentatively. “We’re just going to—”
“No, Rae! We can’t do this!” He sank into a crouch, covering his mouth with his hands as he stared helplessly at the back of the car. “We kidnapped Simon Kerrigan. We put him in a trunk.”
It was the first time he had ever said ‘Kerrigan’ like all the others. Like the name alone had the power to completely debilitate and destroy. It was strange, hearing it come from his mouth. He had always been detached, pragmatic. From the time he told her about her father’s unfortunate legacy on the steps of Guilder, to when they were hunting down the missing pieces of his brainwashing device. There was a sadness there, a raw resentment for what he’d done. But it was so far in the past it had never mattered much, and he kept himself above it for Rae.
Now, it seemed, the past had caught up with them. And there was something new in his voice when he said the name. Something new in his eyes when he stared at the car. Something Rae had never seen there before.
Fear.
“Dev,” she tried to force herself to be calm, “it’s just a regular prisoner transfer. It’s something that you’ve done about a thousand times.”
His dark brown eyes flashed as they tore themselves away from the car and fixed on her. “Yeah, except he’s not just a regular prisoner, is he?” His fingers raked manically back through his hair, standing the dark locks on end. “Rae, I honestly don’t know what’s worse: That he’s Simon Kerrigan, or that he’s your…” He trailed off, unable to say the word.
Rae said it for him. “My father?” She was surprised by how strong her voice sounded. How suddenly calm.
Yes, he was her father. But he was also the most dangerous sociopath to walk the inked streets since the time of King Henry VIII. Well, him and Cromfield. She would not confuse the line.
And while he might be Simon Kerrigan…she was still Rae. There was a reason she had been elected to govern those streets. There was a reason people no longer looked at her like a pariah simply because of her bloodline. There was a reason people had started to love, not fear, the name.
“Set up the inhibitors,” she instructed, leveling the car with her gaze. “Remember to do it on the outside, so he can’t tear them down.”
Devon stared at her for another second, but it helped that she had given him a task. Without another word, he silently moved forward and grabbed the bag from the car. He disappeared around the back of the boathouse, and a moment later rejoined her by the trunk. The bag was empty.
“Done,” he breathed, gazing down with a forced steadiness. If there was one thing that could inspire bravery in him above everything else, it was the prospect of keeping Rae safe. He certainly didn’t disappoint tonight. “Are you ready?”
She nodded, and the two of them braced in the gravel again. Ready for round two.
The trunk lifted for a second time.
Simon pursed his lips, looking like he was trying very hard not to smile. “Much better,” he congratulated quietly. “The expressions, the defensive stance. I don’t feel like I have a shot in hell of getting out of here. Truly.”
Devon’s back stiffened, and for a moment it looked like he was considering slamming the lid down again and pushing the car into the pond. Rae stepped forward instead with a tight smile.
“You’ll have to excuse us. Finding you…alive…” She hesitated, staring back at him with uncertain eyes, the false bravado melting away in the chilled night air. “…we weren’t expecting it.”
For a moment, all the games and witty banter disappeared. Simon stared back at her with a rather thoughtful expression, lingering on her face before nodding his head slowly.
“The fire.” His voice was still weak and scratchy from his time in captivity. “I remember there was a fire. You, your mother, the rest of the world…had to think I was gone.”
And good riddance.
For a moment, the three of them just froze there. Two of them standing, one of them sitting in the trunk with a designer trench coat still wrapped clumsily around his hands.
Then, in perhaps the most frightening moment to happen yet, Simon’s entire face lit up with a beaming, anticipatory smile. “Well…surprise.”
The trunk door went down again.
Both Rae and Devon had done it at the same moment, so it was impossible to either take credit or place blame. As it was they both stood just in front of it, resting a shaking hand on top should he try to escape.
“How do we get him from here to the boathouse?” Devon asked softly.
Rae’s mind raced as she tried to come up with a safe plan. It’s not like he was going to go quietly. And it’s not like they could risk letting the man touch the skin of either of them.
“You know,” a muffled voice echoed out from the car, “I could always just walk there.”
Rae and Devon shared a quick glance before his fist slammed down upon the trunk. A momentary loss of control, and a fierce warning for silence.
There was a brief pause. Then,
“…I bet that was the boy, wasn’t it?”
Devon’s face paled, and he turned back to Rae in quiet desperation. Twice his eyes flickered up to the house, as if at any moment he might yell at the top of his lungs and the rest of their super-gang would come running. Twice Rae punched him in the shoulder to make him wait.
Finally, she leaned her face down as close to the metal as she dared, considering all her options for a moment, before taking a brave stab at honesty. “Simon,” she co
uldn’t bring herself to call him ‘Dad’, “we don’t know what tatù you’re carrying. We can’t risk just letting you out.”
Devon flashed her a quick look, but he, too, stared down at the car. Waiting for an answer.
Simon’s voice was calm and steady. Ringing with the kind of unquestionable sincerity Rae was sure he had used to get so many unsuspecting followers onto his side. “The last set of ink I took before the fire was wind. I haven’t been able to use it in my cell, of course, but I’m assuming it’s still intact. That’s the only one.”
That’s the only one.
On this point, at least, Rae did believe him. Over the years she had studied the life and times of Simon Kerrigan like a dark obsession, tracking down every bit of information she could get her hands on. All with the vain hope of understanding him just a little better. Trying to come to terms with how the man her mother fell in love with turned into the monster he’d become.
Throughout the collection of this research, one fact had remained consistent.
Simon Kerrigan could use one set of ink at a time. It’s the reason that everyone had been so impressed with her ability to possess multiple powers. It was the reason they had been so scared.
“Prove it.” The trunk door opened a crack. Devon took a step back, pushing Rae discreetly out of Simon’s line of sight as he did so. “On me.”
Simon sat up tentatively, moving slowly so as not to alarm. Once the lid was fully open he glanced down at his hands, eyes lingering on the hastily knotted jacket on top.
“Do you want me to just take this off, or shall we maintain the illusion?”
Devon’s face whitened another shade, but he gritted his teeth. “Just do it.”
In a flash, the jacket fell to the side. Then, moving with a speed that seemed impossible given his time trapped underground, Simon lifted his hand and pointed it straight at Devon’s head.
Rae sucked in a silent scream, but her man held steady. His brown eyes pierced the night as they locked onto Simon. His chest rose and fell with rapid, shallow breaths, but he surrendered not an inch of ground, staring back at the man who, in a perfect world, would be his father-in-law.
