Rae of Hope (The Chronicles of Kerrigan) (12 page)

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Her uncle must’ve felt awful when he learned her mother had been given the mark tatù instead of him. What gut-wrenching disappointment he must have felt.
Wow, that must have really sucked, to be taken away from all his friends, from my dad, and to realize he wasn’t the special one.
Rae pondered this new side of her uncle’s life story as she wandered along the sidewalk.

Using her bag as an umbrella, Rae slipped into the dining hall and grabbed a few buns off of a table. She stuffed them in her pockets, along with a few mini butters. The idea of just hanging out in her dorm room doing homework until her meeting with Devon seemed like the perfect idea. With her pockets stuffed with snack supplies, she set off to do just that.

With her notebook and pen, Rae headed down to the library ten minutes before eight. She tried her uncle on the phone one more time. No answer. But Aunt Linda had called earlier and left a message with Molly, so Rae was no longer worried. She hadn’t been sure if Rae had been trying to get a hold of them. They had no machine and had been away and planned another short holiday for a few nights. Rae figured her aunt was enjoying some time with just the two of them. Her uncle probably said yes to the trips just so he wouldn’t have to talk to her.
Coward
. She shrugged off her disappointment with her Uncle and focused instead of the tutoring session to come.

Her heart skipped at the thought of seeing Devon. She tried telling herself it was because she wanted to learn more about her past, but knew that wasn’t the only reason.

Rae slipped into the library, picking a table toward the back. The last thing she needed was anyone, especially Haley, within hearing distance.

She sat down on the antique oak chair, rubbing her palms against the smooth top of the table. After a few minutes, she began tapping her pen against her binder. Eyes glued to the entrance of the library, her heart rate doubled when Devon walked through the oak doors.

He’d just showered. His dark hair still damp, and he’d changed into jeans and a white t-shirt. He moved with an easy confidence. She liked that. He raised a hand when he noticed her, arriving at the table in seconds, the speed of his gift carrying him. He moved so fast, his image had appeared blurry from the speed.

“Sorry I’m late.” He plopped down across from her. “The guys had a football rematch after tea and I lost track of time. Then I had to shower, ’cause I stunk.” He grinned and wrinkled his nose.

Rae relaxed at his easy-going tone. “No prob.”

Leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, Devon dropped his chin into his hands. “How’d your first day of classes go?”

The scent of Devon’s musky cologne wafted over her. Rae sat back to concentrate better, but the lure of his cologne tempted her to lean forward again and smell his delicious scent.

“Cl-classes were all right. Professor Stockheed seems… uh, interesting.” Rae inhaled a deep breath through her nose, trying to not appear obvious. If Devon said anything bad about the teacher, she’d tell him about the note.

“He’s fine. A bit strange, but he’s harmless. What’d you think of the Oratory?”

Nope. She wasn’t going to mention the note. She focused on his question. “When you walk in the place, I swear, time freezes.”

“Yeah, the Grand Room does seem to hold some special power or quality. Maybe that’s why they called it the Aura-tory.” Devon dropped back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. He had long, muscular arms. The corners of his mouth twitched, his dimple winking at her.

“That’s a
really
bad joke.” Rae laughed despite herself.

“There are plenty more where that came from.” Devon stretched his legs out under the table. “Did you like Lanford’s class?”

“Definitely the most interesting.” She felt her cheeks burn. “He’s got an awesome tatù.”

“Oh no,” Devon laughed. “Who was it? Someone not paying attention or fooling around?”

Rae’s face got hotter and Devon’s laugh got louder.

“You?” He shook his head. “Last year, he lifted Riley up while he was mucking about. Dude didn’t catch on and tried to fight it. He looked like a cat thrashing about in the air. Legs and arms going everywhere as he tried to get his feet back on the ground. Took him a while to figure out Lanford held him there.”

“Mine wasn’t that bad. Thank goodness.” She smiled, relieved. “I love the Oratory.”

“Did you know the school dance next month is held there? It’s looks pretty surreal once decorated. You’d expect King Henry himself to show up.”

“Cool.” Rae didn’t know what else to say. She pictured them dancing together and then she thought about his girlfriend and wondered if Beth’d be there.

 
“How about we get started?” Devon reached for a pen. “Tell me what you want to know.”

“Me? Shouldn’t you have some lesson plan all mapped out?”

“Nope.” Devon laughed as he shook his head. “These sessions are to help you with any questions you’ve got.”

 
“Okayyy…” Rae drummed her fingernails against the oak desk, her eyes traveling along a grain in the desk’s wood. “All rightie, let’s start with something obvious. My parents. What do you know about their ink?”

“Skip the small talk and get right into the deep stuff, don’t you?” Devon began doodling on a sheet of paper inside her binder. He rested his chin in his free hand. “I don’t know a lot about your mom. Story is she fell in love with the wrong kinda guy.” He shrugged.

“Then tell me what you know about my father.”

Devon paused in his doodling and exhaled. “You say you don’t remember much about your dad. Maybe he acted different with your mom. To the rest of this secret society of tatùs, he chose the dark side of his ink. I don’t know the hows or whys.” Devon glanced at Rae, quickly dropping his gaze. “He’d be the poster child for the debate about kids growing up evil. Others joined him. This group of men let greed and power rule the choices they made in their lives, with no care or consideration for who got hurt.”

“People who aren’t inked live like that now. That’s no different than the norm of today’s society.” Her dad couldn’t have been that bad. After all, there were terrorists in other countries blowing people up just to say they did it.

“Yeah, but normal people don’t have powerful tatùs to work with. Your dad…he did some pretty bad shi—not so nice things to a lot of innocent people.” Devon paused, setting the pen down on the table. “There are still inked people who agree with what your father believed and are determined to continue with his plans…”

“I get what my dad was. I know there were times when my mother seemed terrified of him. As a kid, I thought it was normal. But my uncle… he never spoke the same way to my Aunt Linda or acted angry. And, it seems, he had good reason to be mad.” She chewed her lip. “You know, when my father was happy, he was good, but if he was mad or in a dark mood…” Rae shuddered and whispered, “Maybe that’s why I forget so much. Maybe I’ve blocked it out because it was so awful. What I do remember certainly isn’t all hearts and roses. I still have nightmares.”

Devon played with his pen cap, unable to look Rae directly in the eye. “Your father had big plans for himself and his little coven of followers. It got to the point where something catastrophic was going to happen. The Tatù Privy Council was terrified of what he planned to do, knowing they’d be unable to stop him. The fire at your house changed everything.” Sympathy filled his eyes. “Miraculously, you survived. Officials were unable to find the cause or source of the fire.”

“It’d be nice to see those reports. Maybe there’s something I’m forgetting.” Rae couldn’t remember anything more significant about that day than losing her mother.

“If you’d like, we can look up the newspaper articles on another night.”

Rae rubbed her temples. “I’d like to remember something no one else knows. Try and right the wrong he did.” She paused, unable to decide if she should voice the hope nagging inside. “Or maybe my dad really wasn’t that bad, and it’s all just a big misunderstanding. Maybe…” She knew how silly she sounded. It was childish, wishful thinking, wanting her dad to be a secret super hero instead of the villain of the story.

Devon took one of Rae’s hands in both of his. He held it for a moment before slowly releasing it. Rae could still feel the warmth from his touch. She stared down at her fingers.

“Deep down, I think I always knew my father couldn’t be a good person. I never knew details, but I always figured…” She blinked rapidly, trying to stop the burning in her eyes. Unable to talk, she half whispered, “I’m terrified I’ll end up like him when I get my tatù. What if his ink changed him? It could happen to me, too.” No wonder the school wanted her here and why the other kids acted weird around her. She glanced up at Devon, forcing a tiny half smile. A long, sad breath slipped out. “Would you mind if we maybe called it a night?” She didn’t think she could hold the flood works back much longer.

“Sure.” The pity in Devon’s eyes made Rae look away.

Devon’s chair scraped as he stood. “Go get some sleep and don’t worry. Tonight was just a lesson in history. It doesn’t mean anything, and it changes nothing of who you are.” He waited until Rae gathered her things. He didn’t push or question her request. Together, they walked down the center aisle of the library and went their separate ways in the foyer.

It means everything to me. How can Devon think it doesn’t change who I am? It’s like an ink stamp on my forehead. Like I’m already labeled by everyone here.
Rae trudged up the stairs and into her dorm room, feeling relieved when she saw that Molly wasn’t already there, with her constant chatter and questions. She just wanted to crawl into bed, cry and disappear into the darkness.

Chapter 11

American Cheeseburger in London

School
life settled into a steady rhythm in sync with the English rain. Unlike the rain, school was never tiresome: Predictable, yes, but not tiresome. She became friends with a few of the students, said “hi!” to them on the way to and from classes, and even spent time with them after hours. In short, she began to fit in and enjoyed the feeling.

Rae loved afternoon classes best. Studying tatùs and learning how each student grew with their abilities made her more excited each day. September passed by quickly. Rae knew the first weekend of October would be Parent’s weekend and she dreaded it. But when it arrived, it turned out to be even worse than she had imagined.

She wasn’t naïve enough to think that her uncle would fly over for the weekend. Deep down, she didn’t want him there. She wished her mom, or even her dad, were alive to help her through this. When Rae had finally gotten through on the phone to the U.S., Aunt Linda had answered. Each time she called, Uncle Argyle managed to be out or unavailable. The previous week, she’d finally spoken with him, but he’d been evasive since Aunt Linda had been in the room. He hadn’t answered any of the questions she asked.

Over the weekend, other students’ parents avoided her. Most of the students did as well. She felt, once again, like she didn’t belong at the school, and it hurt. Thank goodness Devon’s father turned out to be polite. Otherwise she’d have disappeared and hung out in her dorm.

 
Just like his son, he didn’t seem to judge her just because of who her parents had been. He talked about Devon the entire conversion, which she didn’t mind at all. Headmaster Lanford interrupted their pleasant conversation to say how ecstatic he was to see Mr. Wardell. He quickly dragged Devon’s father off to speak with Dean Carter. While being pulled away, Mr. Wardell smiled apologetically. She noticed he had the same dimple as Devon and decided she both liked and trusted him, just as she did his son. He seemed the kind of guy who wanted the moon and stars for his kid.