The Chronicles of Kerrigan Box Set Books # 1 - 6: Paranormal Fantasy Young Adult/New Adult Romance

by W. J. May

  Jennifer watched her with a slightly amused look on her face. “So you know Julian?”

  “Yeah. He’s two years older than me. He graduated Guilder last year, but stayed on to help as a mentor or something.”

  “Your mentor?”

  Rae shook her head, terrified Jennifer would ask who her mentor was. The last thing she wanted was to have to say Devon’s name. She didn’t think she could do it without crying.

  “What’s his tatù?”

  Devon’s? Whoops, Julian’s. Rae unclenched her fingers and felt the familiar strings of Julian’s tatù run through her. “He draws. He can draw a future event before it happens.”

  “That’s it?” She threw her hands in the air. “And Carter wants you on an assignment with him? Why doesn’t he just stake you out in a field like a sacrificial goat?”

  “There’s more.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to defend Julian. This woman was obviously a pessimist and it just grated her last nerve. How Carter had thought Jennifer would be the perfect Botcher for her… What the heck had he been thinking? “Julian can see into the future.”

  Jennifer’s eyebrows shot up. “Now that’s handy.”

  “It is. Except it isn’t consistent. It seems to work best when the situation is super-intense, like when I’m fighting or sparring. And it’s only a move or two ahead of the other guy. It—”

  “You?” Jennifer cut her off.

  “I’ve mimicked his tatù. He probably controls it better than I do. Earlier this school year we sparred and trained a bit in the Oratory. The tatù is handy, but since I can only use one at a time I think it leaves me pretty vulnerable, and I tend to switch to Dev—to another tatù that’s better for the situation I’m in.”

  “I don’t get this mimic thing. I mean, I know you have it, but it confuses me. I’ve spent most of my life making sure I understand what type of tatù I’m up against. I even understood your father’s tatù.” She looked Rae straight in the eye. “Now you come along with your pretty little fairy and screw the whole damn thing up.”

  Rae inhaled a long breath and slowly let it out, counting to five at the same time. She couldn’t make it to ten. “I haven’t screwed anything up! I didn’t ask for this tatù. You want to blame someone? Why not start with my father? And my mother!”

  Jennifer’s even stare turned into a glare. “Don’t you dare blame your mother!”

  “Why not?” Anger from every direction flooded her thoughts; the lousy morning, the impossible teacher, her mother dying, her stupid, bad dad. “No one forced her to marry my dad. If she had any brains she’d have run away from him. Not married the idiot!”

  Jennifer opened her mouth to speak but Rae didn’t let her.

  “Guilder and the Privy Council all cower in fear at the mention of two tatùs marrying. But did that stop her? NO! She went and got pregnant with me!” Rae grabbed some balls out of a bin nearby and began drilling them against the far wall. They flew across the room and landed two bricks above the gymnastic mats every time. She had switched tatùs, but her body had done it unconsciously. “Who would do that? What mother would want to make their child’s life next to impossible?” She threw the balls harder. “Then willingly die, and leave her six year old daughter all alone in a world that can’t freakin’ wait to see her either fail or turn into her father!” She drilled a ball harder and didn’t even pause when it exploded against the far wall with sand spilling everywhere. “She dies and doesn’t bother to explain to her daughter that she might get a tatù on her sixteenth birthday, she might get her father’s jacked up ability, she might spend the rest of her life running from people trying to kill her, she might never be accepted anywhere because of her ability, her past, her family, none of which she has any control over or choice in…” Rae sucked in a giant breath and grabbed the last ball in the bin. “Instead,” she drilled the ball against the far wall and felt a small hint of satisfaction when it exploded as well, “she leaves her vulnerable daughter with no information, no protection, and no answers. Nothing.”

  “Your mother didn’t know she was going to die.” Jennifer pulled the ball bin out of Rae’s reach, probably to make sure Rae didn’t chuck it as well.

  “BULL!” Rae jabbed a finger toward Jennifer. “Don’t defend her! You want to know what she did? She wrote me a letter for my sixteenth birthday, ten years before I turned sixteen! She knew exactly what was going to happen!” Rae’s shoulders and chest heaved as she tried to suck in as much air as she could.

  Jennifer began gathering the balls on the other side of the gym. She worked quickly, using her tatù. “She did? I’d like to see that letter.” Seeing the look on Rae’s face, she must have decided to drop suggesting that idea. She spoke, using her hands to emphasize her point. “I’m not defending her, but you have to understand she was one extremely brave woman.” Jennifer bent down to grab two balls, but Rae heard her mumble, “I couldn’t have done what she did.” She straightened. “One day you’ll understand.”

  “One day?” Rae laughed sarcastically. She wanted to tell Jennifer to try walking in her shoes and see what it felt like to be Rae Kerrigan. She was about to unleash on Jennifer some more when she finally looked her in the eye, and saw the look. Rae knew when she was being assessed. She hated it. Jennifer was not trying to talk her through a tough time, she was sitting back and seeing what Rae could do. That quickly she was reminded that she couldn’t trust this woman. Jennifer was never going to understand anyway. Rae bit her tongue.

  Jennifer, for her part, realized the show was over and resumed the mantle of Botcher. “Go grab a broom out of the closet just outside the gym.”

  Rae marched to the door and jerked it open. Her eyes burned with tears and she angrily wiped away the ones that sneaked past her guard. She’d just gone and opened herself up to scrutiny to the person she knew the least about in her world and had absolutely no reason to trust. All her careful withholding of information and opinions, and it meant nothing now because Jennifer knew practically everything about her, and Rae knew nothing about Jennifer. So not only had her boyfriend dumped her, but she had lost what little hope she had fostered of gaining the upper hand in her Botcher–Dagonet interaction. She had not just lost it, she had duct-taped C4 to it and blown it to smithereens for shits and giggles.

  Today sucked. Royally.

  She found the janitor closet and tucked the broom with its sweep cup under her arm. It took several deep breaths to calm down. “I’m here to train. Just focus on that. It’s like, three hours. That’s all,” she told herself. “I can get through this.”

  She walked back into the gym, relieved Jennifer was still the only one in the room. In the back of her mind she figured there were hidden cameras and microphones everywhere. Had anyone been around to hear the conversation, she was sure they would have a psychologist or some sort of therapist in there to speak with her. Or maybe the Privy Council would just file it all away to use against her later should the need arise. It didn’t matter. She couldn’t undo it now.

  Jennifer had pulled out some equipment. A punching bag and a bunch of other stuff Rae didn’t recognize were set up in a corner. She stood tying some contraption together.

  Rae hurried over to the mess and began sweeping up the sand. What should she say? Should she apologize? Pretend it hadn’t happened? Act like it was no big deal? She dumped the tray of sand into the garbage can Jennifer had conveniently placed by the exploded pieces. She swept up another pile and dumped that as well. Trying to get the rest as best she could, she finally spoke, “I think we’re going to need to vacuum the last bit.”

  “It’s fine. The floors are cleaned and polished every night here.” Jennifer stepped back from the rectangle she’d just put together.

  Rae glanced at the big blue mats surrounding it and realized it was a trampoline.

  Jennifer wiped her hands on her pants. “Can we just settle for a training session now? Put the drama on the backburner for a few hours?”

  “Sure.�
�� The concession burned Rae’s gut coming from Jennifer, but she couldn’t see how she could have possibly turned anything to her advantage after her outburst anyway. Rae set the broom inside the garbage can and pushed it against the wall. “What do you want me to do?”

  Jennifer tossed her a package, which Rae easily caught. Inside was a pair of gloves, minus the fingers. “Put those on and let’s start at the punching bag.” Jennifer wore a similar pair. “Have you ever tried one of these before?”

  “Never.” The small balloon shaped bag looked easy to hit the first time, but from what Rae had seen in the movies, keeping the hits connecting would be next to impossible.

  Jennifer squared her feet and began punching the bag. Her fists found a rhythm while she hit. It barely made any sound. “The speed bag is an indispensable tool. It’ll improve your hand-eye coordination, quicken your reflexes – though I believe those are quite fine-tuned right now. More than anything, for you, it will increase arm strength and endurance.” She stepped aside and caught her breath. “It’s a great cardiovascular workout as well.” She adjusted the height of the bag slightly. “It can be a little difficult at first, but I think it won’t take you long.” She rolled her eyes, as if trying to make an effort to be friendly but not being very successful. “You can then dazzle your tatù friends with your lightning speed.”

  Rae walked over, standing slightly away from the bag. She looked at Jennifer.

  “Face the bag with your feet shoulder width apart. Your whole body… No, the whole body from head to toe has to face the bag. Yes.” She moved Rae’s shoulders and checked her distance from the bag. “Be close enough that you don’t need to extend your arm more than a few inches to hit it. It’s the same when hitting someone or making contact to protect yourself. With the bag you have to be close enough to make solid contact, but far enough so you don’t hit your head on the rebound.” She stepped back. “Now hit it.”

  Rae made a lousy attempt at hitting the bag. It swung wildly.

  Using both hands, Jennifer stopped its motion. “You need to keep your fists at chin level, or just slightly lower. Also have your elbows parallel to the floor.”

  Rae tried again, hitting it two times in a row.

  “Try circling your fists as you hit. Circle them down and back up again to hit the back. You’ll find a rhythm and when you do, it’ll click. Then you can start changing hands or hitting the bag a different way. Now go!”

  Her fists couldn’t find a rhythm. Rae wasn’t about to let Jennifer know that her store of tatù abilities was low after her fight with Kraigan. She had a feeling it was something she would have to admit eventually but for now, she just couldn’t face showing any more vulnerabilities. She switched to Julian’s, hoping a bit of fore knowledge would help. It didn’t. When Jennifer sighed, Rae took a step back and shrugged. “It’s not going to happen today.”

  “Yes it is. Focus. Concentrate on the bag and connecting with it. Drop everything else from your mind. When you were talking before and getting angry, you managed to hit the same brick consistently. Nobody does that without having skills. Try it again.”

  Rae closed her eyes and stepped forward again. She tuned her ears to the sound of the metal slightly grating as the bag swung. The sound seemed to tell her brain that everything moved in slow motion for that moment. She searched for the frustrated anger she had felt earlier and tried to bring the feeling to her core. The tatù sent a shiver up her spine as it came forward when she needed it. Eyes squeezed tightly shut she began hitting the bag, two times one fist, two times the other. She let the speed increase faster and faster, switching hands or just using one hand and when it got tired she switched it to the other. She pretended the bag was every person who had managed to disappoint or frustrate her. There were a lot of them.

  Sweat collected near her hair and ran down her cheek. She grew warm and finally gave the bag one final hard hit before opening her eyes. The bag swung at break-neck speed back and forth on its hinge. She grinned, proud of herself.

  “Well done.” Jennifer clapped her hands. “Do you switch tatùs as you punch?”

  “I just used one.”

  “Which one?”

  “Devon’s.” Rae’s face grew warmer. She cringed, waiting for the tears to start.

  “Wardell’s?” Jennifer pressed her lips tight and nodded to herself. “I can see that. Good choice.”

  “I didn’t actually choose it,” Rae said honestly. “My body automatically picks the tatù I need before I can even decide what’ll work best. It wasn’t like that in the beginning.”

  “Interesting.” Jennifer tapped a finger against her chin. “All right,” she said, clapping her hands together. “Let’s get working on the next drill. I just set the punching bag up because I figured you needed it. When I’m stressed, I find a good ass-kicking releases the frustration. When the bad guy’s not around to de-stress, I use the punching bag. I suggest you set one up at your place.”

  Why does that not surprise me? Rae liked the idea though. It made sense to her. “I’m still in the dorms. I’ll have to check with Madame Elpis if I can put one up. It’s not a bad idea.”

  “I forgot you’re still in the dorms. There’s no living quarters onsite with the Privy Council so you should start thinking about where you want to live in three months. With the car you’re driving you are going to need a place with a garage.”

  “It’s Julian’s car.” Rae followed Jennifer to the trampoline and watched her stack plyometric boxes on top of each other on one end. “Can I help?”

  “I’ll be done in a sec.” Quick as a cat, Jennifer climbed the tall tower and placed one more box on top. “It’s a bit rickety, but just focus on balance as you climb up.” She climbed to the top box and pointed to the trampoline. “Then I want you to jump.”

  “Why don’t I just get on the trampoline and start jumping?” Rae put her hands on the edge and started to lift herself up.

  “No! I want you to do this…” Jennifer jumped and landed in the center of the trampoline. Her jump arced away and she flew through the air toward the other side of the gym. She spun around in two perfect flips and straightened to land on her feet. “Just like a cat.” She grinned at Rae. “Your turn.”

  “No way! I can’t do that. I’ll break a leg!” Or worse, my neck and end up paralyzed.

  “Get up there. This isn’t a request.” Jennifer’s face hardened.

  Rae started climbing, fear curdling her stomach as she went. At least she had a healing tatù to use – hopefully before she killed herself. Rae made her way up the stack of wooden boxes and stood precariously on the top. She looked down and closed her eyes.

  Big mistake.

  The boxes trembled and shook with her loss of focus on her balance. She shifted and spread her legs a little further apart, her eyes darting open and frantically looking around. Jennifer stood motioning her to jump. Rae gave a small shake of her head. Not going to happen.

  She didn’t have a choice. The boxes began to give way. She leapt off before the meager tower toppled and managed to land on the edge of the trampoline. Her body flew into the air, her arms and legs flailing in every direction. She went twice as high as Jennifer, at least it felt like that, and headed straight for the wall. The leopard tatù activated and just before she hit face first into it, she managed to get her feet running in front of her and pushed off the wall with both of them. She back flipped and finally landed on the ground, with her feet and hands. “L-Like a c-cat.”

  Jennifer’s mouth hung open and her eyebrows had disappeared under her bangs.

  Rae straightened and wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. She grinned. That had been freakin’ scary, but she’d landed on her feet. She had to admit, it had felt kind of thrilling.

  “Why don’t we call it a day?” Jennifer blinked rapidly, her eyes still huge.

  Rae wanted to laugh but held it in. It must have looked a lot worse than it had felt.

  “I’ll clean up. We’ll meet tomorrow afternoon.
I’ll text you the time and place.”

  “Sounds good.” Rae jogged over to grab her jacket and bag. She glanced to see Jennifer’s hand press against her temple as she surveyed the mess.

  Chapter 7

  Depression

  Rae left the gym and headed back to her dorm room. As she drove, she couldn’t stop running the session with Jennifer over and over in her head. She wished she could hit stop and switch to a different train of thought, but it seemed impossible. Back at the dorm she slipped into her room and grabbed her toiletries. In the shower, the hot, hot water didn’t erase the tension in her shoulders.

  She tried thinking about school. Had it only been yesterday she had classes? It felt like so much had happened in the past few days. Three months of school left and she would be done. Hard to believe. Maybe Monday in the Oratory I’ll talk to Carter and see – Wait! The journal! The Oratory reminded her of her father’s journal that she still hadn’t had a chance to read.

  She jerked the shower handle to off and stepped out. Barely bothering to dry herself off, she shoved her clothes on and headed back to her room. She wanted to see what everyone wanted to see in that stupid journal. Burning it in a fire might be the smartest thing to do. Then no one would ever know what was inside of it.

  Molly crashed into Rae’s room. “Did you text him? What did he reply?” Her gorgeous mahogany hair swung side to side from the pony she had put it in. It seemed like the thick, wild mane was trying to escape. Rae had always envied her hair. She idly wondered if she could mimic it somehow now that she had a little power over hair. Hmmm what would I look like with red hair though? Rae’s mind wandered a little from the topic of conversation as she waited for Molly to take a breath and let her respond.

  “Text who?” Rae pretended not to remember. The moment before Molly burst in, she had grabbed her father’s journal, hoping to have a look at it and then hide it in a very good hiding place. No chance of that now. She slid the journal between two textbooks on her desk as nonchalantly as she could. Molly was super-observant though, and she half expected to be called out on it.