by W. J. May
Every single person standing in the room knew Simon deserved justice. For the sake of the families of his victims, they all wanted him to have it.
But at the same time, every single person standing in the room had spent the last three days ghosting around the house with the cheeriest, most charming ‘dead man walking’ they had ever seen.
It was an utterly bizarre set of circumstances, and no matter how they might really feel small bits of humanity kept getting in the way. Molly even shed a quick tear as Simon glanced her way, turning her head quickly as she ‘busied’ herself with some dirty dishes. Luke flashed him a sad, yet comforting smile. Julian handed him a cup of coffee.
Ironically enough, only Kraigan was distant and removed. But, again, that was to be expected.
The second he’d gotten home from his impromptu departure from Kent, the second he’d finished screaming at Rae for not calling him the minute Simon showed up at the door, he’d spent every waking moment with his father.
From morning to night. There was never a second when the two of them were apart. He’d even taken to sleeping in the basement. Or he’d tried, before Devon had forbidden it lest Simon somehow cut off the anklet, break down the door, and steal Kraigan’s power.
On the morning of the trial, Kraigan was as dark as Rae had ever seen him. Growling at everyone who was foolish enough to step in his path. Shooting murderous looks at Rae, as if the whole thing was somehow all her fault. Never straying more than a few feet from Simon at all times.
It wasn’t until about five minutes before they had to go that he suddenly pulled Rae aside, yanking her by the arm into the living room. “You can’t testify against him,” he whispered urgently. “You need to speak in his favor.”
Rae’s heart sank with a weary sigh. She had been expecting something like this. “I need to tell the truth, Kraigan. Whatever it is—I need to tell them what I see.”
“No, you don’t!” he hissed. “You’re only saying that because you have this warped sense of morality and you don’t want to get stuck living with a guilty conscience. You can say whatever it is you want to say. The court will listen to you. You’re the damn president.”
“Exactly,” she reasoned. “And as the president—”
“As the president, you can say whatever the hell you damn well please. And as his daughter, you have an obligation to try to save his life.”
A heavy silence fell between them, and for a moment all Kraigan’s bark and bluster fell away. For a moment, he looked both pleading and sincere. Like a lost little boy. “Please, Rae.” He actually reached out and took her hand. “If you won’t do it for him…do it for me. I’m your brother. I’m asking this.”
Her heart broke as she looked up into his eyes. “Kraigan, I would do anything I could for you. You know that. I’ve even offered my own life. But that…?” She shook her head slowly. “I can’t do that. It isn’t just about us.”
He dropped her hand and seeds of deep hatred were planted in his eyes. “You know…all I have to do is take another tatù, and then you and Devon can never have your fairytale ending. Your immortality will come back, and there will be no getting rid of it. You’ll watch him grow old. You’ll watch him die. You’ll be alone for all eternity.”
Rae took a step back, staring as if she’d never really seen him before. The last few months they’d made such great strides she sometimes forgot the raging psychopath hidden just beneath. “If you do that,” she spoke slowly, “I’ll kill you, Kraigan. I don’t know how, and I don’t know when. But if you make me live forever, I won’t let you live at all. I promise you that.” She wasn’t even sure he could do that. With Cromfield dead, would the tatù come back to her? The thought terrified her. Another thought crept into her mind… what if her father took Kraigan’s tatù? Could they save him? He’d never have the chance to take it. And Simon Kerrigan had no right to live forever. No one did.
Perhaps it was a good thing that, at that moment, the rest of the group came bustling out from the kitchen, putting on their coats and picking up their keys as they headed to the front door.
They were just splitting up into their separate cars, when Devon grabbed Julian by the wrist.
“Prisoner transfer.” He sounded almost guilty to be saying it. “According to the rules, we need at least two guards. Plus a driver.” He must have felt Simon’s eyes upon him, and made a concerted effort not to turn around and look. “Can you…can you ride with us instead?”
Julian’s face paled as he, too, tried not to look at Simon. Then he slipped his keys back into his pocket, and nodded his head. “Yeah. Sure.”
It was for the best anyway. Both Angel and Gabriel had decided to stay behind. Rae had a suspicion they were going to sneak into the courtroom at the very end, in time to hear the verdict her father so richly deserved. Until then, they wanted nothing to do with him.
Beth, too, had called to say she was meeting them at the courthouse.
As Julian climbed into the car on the other side, he glanced at Simon. “Sorry,” he muttered under his breath.
Simon flashed him a sympathetic smile. “Don’t be. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. This is all me, remember?”
Of everyone still gathered, Simon was the only one who didn’t look like the whole world was about to end. Rae wouldn’t exactly call him cheerful, but there was a smile on his face and a spring in his step that she was completely unable to explain. He even held out his wrists when Devon pulled out the manacles, dismissing his apologetic face with a light-hearted shrug.
“They’ve changed brands, I see,” he said conversationally, leaning down to examine the metal as it snapped around his wrists. “It’s certainly an upgrade from the ones we used to use.”
Kraigan dropped his head into his hands with a groan. “Please, Dad, don’t try to act like this is okay. It isn’t, alright? You don’t need to try to make everyone else feel better. They shouldn’t. It’s their fault you’re even—”
“Don’t say that,” Simon said sharply, giving his son a stern look. “It isn’t their fault, and you know it. Don’t you go blaming them. Especially your sister,” he added, glancing at Rae’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “She’s only doing what she has to do.”
What I have to do. Right.
Rae’s hand shook as she tried to stick the key into the ignition. She missed three times. On the fourth, Devon caught her fingers and guided it slowly in. A second later, the engine came alive.
* * *
The trial was supposed to be happening at a ‘secret location’ that no one except the active participants was supposed to know. But the entire tatù community seemed to know that it was happening in Lawrence Hall, a scarcely-used auditorium at the edge of the Guilder campus.
By the time they pulled through the iron gates, it looked as though every single person who had ever even heard of ink was gathered on the lawns in front of them. Waving signs. Throwing rocks. Openly weeping and screaming as they pounded their fists against the car.
Rae, Julian, and Devon turned to instant stone, keeping their eyes locked straight ahead of them as they navigated their way slowly around the curving roads. Kraigan snarled and looked like he was on the verge of rolling down the windows, eager to fight it out with anyone who would have him. Scream for scream. Rock for rock.
Only Simon seemed immune to the mayhem going on around him. He glanced casually out the window, looking almost amused, before turning to Devon instead. “Is Tris—your father going to be here today? I’d very much like to see him.”
Devon froze for a second before glancing out the window himself. Amidst all the buildup to this dreadful day, he’d clearly neglected to think about one important thing. Location. In all likelihood—for the first time in months—he’d be seeing his father. “I—I’m not sure. We don’t really…” He dropped his eyes. “I’m not sure.”
Rae touched his knee briefly before setting her hand back on the wheel.
Simon’s brow creased in the beginnings of
a frown, but before he could ask a single question they were there. A wave of anticipation rippled through the car as Rae put it into park and turned off the engine. The swarms of people were quick to advance, but before they could get near enough to throw their stones they were driven back by a force more powerful than themselves.
“Good morning, Madam President.” Mitch Ford, head of security, opened the door for Rae and helped her out of the car. “I apologize for the mob, but rest assured I have my best man on it.”
Rae glanced over his shoulder to where Jonah—a talented young agent—was standing in front of the horde as if he was meditating. Hands raised up in front of him like a peaceful shield.
From a distance, it might have looked like he was crazy. But Rae knew enough by now to recognize the way the air was shimmering between them. Held at bay by an invisible force field.
“Just until you get inside,” Ford explained. “After that, he’ll lower it so they can hear the sentencing. I’m sure everyone will be eager to know,” he added quietly.
Rae stiffened automatically, then nodded in a silent dismissal.
Ford had been with her and Devon the day they’d found her father in the cell. It had been his offer to shoot the sleeping man in the head that panicked her into taking Simon home in the first place. It was strange. As much as he clearly wanted to see the infamous Kerrigan dead, the man had unintentionally saved Simon’s life.
“Just head inside, Rae,” Devon instructed under his breath. “Don’t look at them.”
It wasn’t easy to do. The force field may have kept out all the stones and active powers, but it did nothing to muffle the noise. And the noise was deafening.
At first Rae felt a stab of relief that, for the most part, it wasn’t directed at her. After news had spread that she would be testifying against Simon, public opinion had once again shifted in their favor. She and her friends were the darlings of society once more. The heroes of the battle to save the world, right there in the flesh. Walking another horrifying villain inside to meet his end.
But that’s the big question, isn’t it?
Death or life in prison?
The question had consumed her like no other had done before. It was the question they’d come here to answer today. One that would hinge, in large part, on her own recommendation.
Would she let them pull that trigger after all? Or would she bestow undeserved mercy and spare the life of the man who had given her his name?
And just like that, she was out of time. The group came to a sudden stop before the heavy double doors, staring up at them with a collective shiver.
“Okay,” Devon paused with his fingers on the handle, “you ready for this?”
Rae took a breath, squared her shoulders, and shook her head ‘no.’
The doors opened anyway.
Death or life in prison?
One way or another, they were about to find out…
* * *
You know that feeling you get when you realize you’re trapped inside a dream, but you still can’t wake up?
You struggle and fight. Kick and scream. Pry open your eyes. But still, you stay sleeping?
That’s how I felt sitting at my father’s murder trial.
The preliminaries had passed quickly, too quickly for Rae to catch up. She’d been steered gently into her seat by Devon, who sensed she was moving on autopilot and couldn’t do it on her own. At the same time, her father was corralled into the defendant’s box.
The room was packed to the gills. Reporters and teachers. Knights and PC.
Sure enough, Rae saw both Gabriel and Angel standing unnoticed in the back. Her mother was standing in between them. Rae was sandwiched between Devon and Molly—both of whom seemed determined to help protect her as best as they could. They each held one of her hands, gripping it even tighter when Commander Fodder entered and began to speak.
What it was he said, Rae would never know. She saw his lips moving, but the entire room had muffled to a low hum as if she was pressing a pillow over her ears.
She didn’t hear the other witnesses either. Didn’t hear the gasps from the crowd as they told their tragic stories. Didn’t hear the crack of the gavel as it slammed down for silence.
She didn’t hear a single word that was spoken, until Devon suddenly squeezed her hand.
“Rae,” he whispered.
She stared up into his eyes, feeling suddenly as though she was six years old. Six years old and desperate to escape into the safety of her treehouse.
“It’s time.”
Like a ghost, she got up from her chair and floated past the rows of people to stand in front of her father. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, neither one of them having any idea what to say, until Fodder stepped forth and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Rae, I’d like you to take me with you. If you can.”
She tore her eyes away from Simon and stared up at him. Stared at the lines of sympathy and worry creasing the corners of his eyes.
“I’ve been led to believe you’re capable of doing that.”
Again, words failed her.
She simply nodded and took his hand. She reached out, and took Simon’s hand as well.
She wasn’t sure she’d come out the same. If it would change her forever. Then, Rae Kerrigan did something she wasn’t sure she could survive.
She took a little stroll down memory lane…
Chapter 15
Torture.
There wasn’t any other word to describe it. It was torture.
Perhaps the only solace Rae could take was that her father had committed so many unspeakable atrocities, that past a certain point they all started to blend together. Specific details were lost amidst the storm. Faces blurred into one another in the crowd.
But there were still plenty of faces to see. And all of them were staring straight back at her.
The problem with going into Simon’s memories, other than the memories themselves, was that Carter’s gift forced you to see them all in the first person. It was as if Rae herself was doing all those things. Administering the shots. Locking the cells. Recording the data. Dragging out the bodies, time after time.
Kidnappings. Imprisonment. Experimentation. Death.
The cycle always seemed to end the same way.
But death was hardly the worst of it.
…Breeding.
It was perhaps the most disturbing of all. Somehow shocking Rae even more than the brutal, thoughtless murder of those people who had outlived their usefulness. Of those people who couldn’t survive the horrific experience of having caught Simon Kerrigan’s eye.
People were forced together—in ways she knew she could never un-see. In ways that made her sick. Forced together, under penalty of death, for the simple purpose of mixing ink. Of trying to make some kind of super-baby. One whose powers would be virtually limitless. In turn, allowing Simon himself the same thing.
It was with a stab of the darkest sort of irony that Rae realized the power he’d been searching for, trying to create all those years, had blossomed within his own daughter. He’d been searching for the fairy inked on her lower back the entire time.
Deeper and deeper they went. She and Fodder, standing hand in hand. Uncovering atrocities they both knew they would never bring to light. Things they would let stay buried forever.
Of course, there were other things there too. Other facets of Simon’s mind that weren’t as clear as the rest.
In the beginning, he’d felt genuine remorse. There had been a protective edge to the things he was doing. As if the entire experiment really was to protect the ones he loved. Safeguard their futures by creating a hybrid so powerful that all other tatùs had to fall in line.
On more than one occasion, Rae saw her own face. Saw her mother’s. Saw a handsome young man she could only assume was a younger version of Devon’s father.
These faces were tinted with affection. Tinted with hope. Maybe even tinted with love.
But before Rae could be sure, they were going back. Fodder was pulling free, unable to handle any more. Rae wanted to find reason for the madness, to be able to blame Cromfield… something. But Fodder was done. And suddenly it was finished. Pulling out of the dark recesses of Simon’s mind. Coming back to the land of the living.
When Rae opened her eyes, she realized there were tears running down her cheeks. There were tears running down Fodder’s.
… and there were tears running down Simon’s.
Fodder quickly dropped his hand and Rae followed suit, both stumbling a few steps away. A nervous buzz of conversation echoed through the crowd as Fodder grabbed her fiercely by the arm and pulled her in close.
“I didn’t know,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. “That it would be so…I never would have let you do that if I’d known.”
She opened her mouth to answer, but at that moment the gavel went crashing down. The entire room rang in sudden silence as Louis Keene, who was presiding, turned to the court.
“Commander Fodder?” He looked a bit uncertain to see the great man so discomposed. “If you’re ready, I give you the floor to speak.”
Fodder didn’t look ready at all. Rae stared at him, knowing he wasn’t going to be ready any time soon.
He simply lifted his head, looking like the life had been drained right out of him, and forced out a few simple words. “Everything the witnesses have said is true. Simon’s guilt is indisputable.” He stumbled back to his chair, helped by Luke, who sprang up to help him. “Let the court rule as it may.”
Death or life in prison? Death or life in prison?
The question banged around inside Rae’s mind. Chipping away little pieces of her every time it struck bone. It was up to her now. Fodder was right: her father was guilty. If there was a word even stronger than guilty, then he would be that. But everyone already knew that. The purpose of the hearing wasn’t to determine Simon’s guilt, but his punishment. And Kraigan was right, too. They would listen to what she had to say. The question rested on her shoulders alone.
