The Chronicles of Kerrigan Prequel Series Books #1-3: Paranormal Fantasy Romance Read online

  What did Rae’s father do that put fear in people’s eyes at the name Kerrigan?

  After a mysterious attempt is made on his life, Simon Kerrigan has more questions than ever, and this time, he's not the only one. The beginnings of a secret society are formed at Guilder. A society of other like-minded students all unsatisfied with the status quo. All searching for the truth.

  But things aren't always as they seem.

  When Simon gets an unexpected visitor, his entire world is turned upside-down. Suddenly, the rules that were made to keep him safe, are the only things standing in his way.

  Who can he trust? Can he learn to master his tatù? Most importantly, can he do it in time to protect those things that are most precious to him?

  The Chronicles of Kerrigan Prequel is the beginning of the story before Rae Kerrigan. Christmas Before the Magic is just the beginning (but not the end...)

  The Chronicles of Kerrigan Prequel Series

  Christmas Before the Magic

  Question the Darkness

  Into the Darkness

  Fight the Darkness

  Alone in the Darkness

  Lost in the Darkness

  The Chronicles of Kerrigan Series

  Rae of Hope

  Dark Nebula

  House of Cards

  Royal Tea

  Under Fire

  End in Sight

  Hidden Darkness

  Twisted Together

  Mark of Fate

  Strength & Power

  Last One Standing

  Rae of Light

  Chapter 1

  Simon Kerrigan had never liked the infirmary.

  The entire thing reeked of antiseptic and foul-smelling medicines, and the way the white gauze was always pulled tightly over the windows gave him the creeps. There were hardly ever any students in here. Ever since Guilder had seen fit to employ Dr. Stein—a man whose tatù let him heal just about anything—the medical wing had seen a sudden and merciful drop in patients. Now, the only times that the cotton cots were in use were when the office was being used as an unofficial barrier zone—keeping boys who had been fighting with each other at an arm’s length—or when Dr. Stein was away on business. Like today.

  Simon lay on his back, squinting up at the blinding light dangling above him, and tentatively tried to stretch out his legs. First one, and then the other. They were sluggish, sure, but at least there was movement. There hadn’t been so much movement when Jason had dragged him in here just a few minutes before.

  Minutes? Or had it been hours? Simon couldn’t be sure. It looked like the sun was hanging lower in the sky, but it was hard to tell anything for certain through those gauzy curtains.

  Truth be told, Simon couldn’t be certain of a lot of things. The tranquilizer he’d been given had worked on his mind just as surely as it had on his body. The sedative that Guilder’s acting-physician had stuck him with afterwards was almost worse. And as hard as he was trying to piece things together, what happened back in the Oratory didn’t make a bit of sense.

  Someone…tried to kill me?

  It came back to him in stilted snapshots. Splintered, senseless images that he struggled to string together to make a whole.

  The attack. The man with the gun. Jacob running towards him. Jacob getting shot.

  Simon’s eyes flickered to the cot next to him. Through the gauzy veil, he could see the outline of another boy lying on his back with his eyes closed. His dark hair spilled out on the pillow around him, and even through the opaque curtain Simon could see the rising welt on his neck where the tranquilizer dart had buried itself deep into his skin.

  What the hell was he thinking? I told him to run. To get out and save himself. He doesn’t know me. He had no possible reason to stay.

  But he didn’t just stay.

  An image of Jacob racing towards him flashed through Simon’s head. How the quiet boy had thrown Simon’s arm around his neck and dragged him towards the door, only to end up getting shot himself. Unlike Simon, Jacob didn’t know the man wasn’t firing real bullets.

  Why did he do that? Why did he risk everything for someone he doesn’t even know?

  Not that it had mattered in the end.

  Simon remembered the dull impact as Jacob hit the ground beside him, unconscious before he even landed on the floor. He remembered the way the man had moved him aside with his shoe so he could get a better angle at Simon. The way he’d set aside his tranquilizer gun and pulled out another. Something heavier. Something final. He had told Simon to close his eyes. That he shouldn’t see it coming. And then—

  The sharp crack of the gun echoed in Simon’s mind and he jerked on the cot.

  He remembered being surprised that it didn’t hurt to get shot. That there was no pain involved in dying. He remembered thinking how odd it was that, despite the fact that the gun had been pointed at his head, he was still alert enough to be having an internal discussion.

  Except…the bullet had never reached him. The gun had been turned to claim someone else.

  Simon’s eyes opened wide as he put it together for the first time.

  Jason had killed the man. Shot him clean through the skull.

  Simon had been in trouble, so Jason had killed the man who was trying to kill him.

  Trying to kill him…for someone else.

  The voice of the assassin ran through Simon’s head and a cold chill ran up his spine.

  ‘It’s not what I want. It’s what my employer wants. He wants you dead, Simon.’

  Simon couldn’t believe the words as he’d heard them. His first random thought had been that it was the kind of line you’d hear in a movie, or on TV. One of those spy shows that he and Argyle would watch in a marathon on the random days they weren’t overwhelmed with homework.

  It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d hear in real life. It certainly wasn’t the kind of thing that would ever be directed at a guy like him. Who the hell would want to kill Simon? Aside from that third-year who’d once yelled at him for destroying the grading curve with the ‘A’ he’d gotten on a term paper in Professor Melville’s class, his list of ‘mortal enemies’ was running rather low.

  But Simon wasn’t the only one for whom this mystery man had plans.

  ‘I forgot how much fun psychics can be for target practice. I wonder if he’ll let me keep the kid around…’

  HE again. The mysterious HE.

  The same HE who apparently wanted Simon dead. The same HE who had plans to abduct Jacob that very night. The same HE who had masterminded this entire terrifying debacle that had landed two teenagers in the hospital and left a bloodied assassin dead on the training room floor.

  “Jacob,” Simon whispered under his breath. There was no movement from the other side of the cot. “Jacob, are you awake?”

  At that moment, a door slammed and the sound of half a dozen angry voices echoed from down the hall. They grew steadily louder the closer they got to the infirmary, and by the time they stopped in the next room over, they were shouting so loud that Simon didn’t even need Tristan’s tatù to make out exactly what they were saying.

  “—completely unacceptable, Archer! These children are entrusted to your care!”

  Simon quickly lowered his head back to the pillow and shut his eyes. Normally he’d jump right in there to defend his mentor for saving his life, but that sounded like Dean Robbins screaming his head off, and, to be perfectly honest, Simon was quite eager to hear Jason’s take.

  “And this school is entrusted to yours!” Jason fired back.

  Of all the people Simon had ever met, his intrepid trainer was the only one he would say was legitimately fearless. If anyone could stand their ground against half of Guilder’s board of directors, it would be him. And it was a good thing, too, because from the sounds of it that was exactly what he had to do.

  “The ‘messenger’ who summoned to boys to the Oratory didn’t do so at my request, nor was he in my employ. He was an imposter who infiltrated the grounds of
this campus on your watch, Robbins, not mine!”

  “So you just shot him!” It was Francis Wainwright yelling now, head of the Privy Council Recruitment Office. “The first assassination attempt on a student’s life we’ve had in over fifty years, and before anyone can ask him a single question—you shoot him dead on the spot!”

  Simon had been on the receiving end of Jason’s rants enough times by now to know exactly the look on his face as raised his voice in reply. “Yes, I did. Because he was at that very moment trying to—how did you phrase it? Ah, yes. ASSASSINATE ONE OF THE STUDENTS!”

  The words sent another round of chills shooting down Simon’s spine, and he dared to lift his head an inch or so off the pillow so he could at least see the silhouetted version of what was going on.

  Sure enough, it was Jason versus all the rest of them. Simon would recognize that ponytail anywhere. One angry shadow facing off against five other men. Like a puppet-show gone wrong.

  How the board could possibly be angry with Jason for anything that had happened… Simon had no idea. Perhaps it was because he was the one who’d been about to get a bullet in the brain, but he saw the man as nothing less than a hero. He suspected they were just rattled that something like this had happened under their watch and were looking for someone—anyone—on whom they could place the blame.

  Of course, that logic did nothing to lessen the wave of vitriol they were spewing Jason’s way.

  “You know, this isn’t the first time that you’ve been cited for excessive force!” another man, who was wearing what looked like spectacles, stepped forward and shouted. “Last month, there was that incident with the Brewers’ boy. And just a few days ago, I heard that Tristan Wardell was thrown halfway across the lawns and shattered his arm! Your casualty reports are at least seventy times higher than anyone else we employ at this school. And now this!”

  The man had stepped right into Jason’s face, and Jason stepped right up to meet him.

  “You’re going to cite me for excessive force?! The man had a GUN pointed at Kerrigan’s head! I did exactly what was necessary to save his life, and I would do it again in a heartbeat! And as for my casualty reports,” his shadowy hands had closed into fists, “you task me with preparing the most gifted, volatile, and dangerous to go out into the world. Of course my casualty reports are higher. I’m the only trainer here who deals exclusively with active, offensive powers!”

  “We needed to QUESTION him, Jason!” the dean was back, yelling so loud that it shook the window partition that separated the two rooms. “We needed him ALIVE!”

  “Would you prefer that I had waited?” Jason demanded. His voice had become dangerously quiet, and his expression must have been a sight to see because all the men dean took a step back. Even the dean. “Would you have preferred I let the man kill Simon so that I could have had the moment I needed to take him down in a way that would have left him alive?” The soft words seemed to ring out in the little infirmary, slicing through the sterile air. “I did the only thing that I could do in the time that was given me. If you think there’s anyone here who could have handled the situation any better or any faster, I’ll turn in my keys right now.”

  When he was offered no open resistance, Jason folded his arms across his chest, staring down each of the powerful men in turn. “My first priority is the safety of the students. That is the way this job was explained to me, and that is the foundation on which I’ve proceeded to base all of my actions.” His tone was as flat as it was cold. “If I was in some way unclear, then, by all means, feel free to correct me.”

  “That’s not what we’re saying, Archer,” Wainwright snapped, although he bowed his head, looking sufficiently shamed. “Of course you did well to save Kerrigan. I just can’t believe that with your particular ink, you couldn’t find a way to—”

  “There wasn’t time!” Jason shouted, throwing his hands up in the air. “The gun was cocked and loaded. I didn’t have time to even take it from his hands, just to point it towards his own face before he pulled the trigger.”

  “So that’s it, then?!” Robbins demanded. “Our only lead on this despicable attack is splattered all over the Oratory floor, and we’re just supposed to accept that?!”

  “What would you have had me do?!” Jason cried in exasperation. “The man was pointing a GUN at—”

  The room fell suddenly quiet. So quiet that Simon dropped his head back to the pillow, afraid that they’d seen him. But it wasn’t Simon who’d caught their attention. It was the man who had just walked through the door.

  “Gentlemen,” Royce Masters’ deep voice boomed out over the tiny infirmary, “we seem to be having a problem.”

  No one spoke. Even Jason bowed his head with instant respect as the headmaster stepped into the space between their two sides and towered over them. Simon watched the whole thing with bated breath: Half-relieved that Masters had swooped down in the nick of time, half-terrified as to what he might do now that he’d gotten here.

  Of all the men Simon knew Jason might be completely fearless, but Masters was still a man who would make any sane man afraid.

  “Blake?”

  The dean stepped forward rather reluctantly. He was a tall man, like Jason, but even he only came up to Masters’ chin. Simon had also always considered him to be rather spineless, given the gravity of his job. He could plan all the alumni benefits in the world, but the second disaster struck he was the first one lashing out to point a finger.

  “Royce, we were simply interrogating Mr. Archer as to the events of the day. As I’m sure you know from my message, two of our students were attacked in the Oratory by a sharpshooter who’d somehow infiltrated his way into our school. The man came armed not only with a standard handgun, but also with a strong tranquilizing serum. What his exact intentions and motivations were, however, we will never know. Mr. Archer killed him on the spot.”

  Masters turned his head to Jason, and Simon felt the strong need to step in between them.

  But while Jason remained respectful, his voice held no fear. He spoke crisply and concisely, in a way that Simon knew Masters would approve of. In a way that made Simon feel oddly proud.

  “Sir, I had no choice. The man was about to shoot Kerrigan. I did what I had to do.”

  “There was no way to take him alive?”

  “There was simply no time.”

  Coming from someone like Jason, that said a lot. The man could be a virtual blur when he wanted to. If he wasn’t fast enough to get it done, there was no doing it.

  Masters nodded slowly, looking him up and down, before turning to the rest of the group. “Does anyone here not believe that what Mr. Archer says is true?”

  There was a soft chorus of shamed denials as the men shook their heads no. In truth, not for a single second had they doubted Jason. They simply needed someone to accuse. And since he’d blown the brains out of the only man suitable for the task, he seemed like the next logical choice.

  “Good.” Masters nodded briskly. “In that case, I suggest we move the rest of this discussion to a more appropriate venue. Jason, please come to my office. The rest of you gentlemen, I’ll see you tomorrow for a formal report. In the meantime, I suggest you get back to the party.”

  He spun on his heel to go, but Jason hesitated, turning his head towards the partition that separated their waiting room from the row of patient cots.

  “Sir.” There was a note of deference to Jason’s voice that Simon had never heard before. “I want to be here when Simon and Jacob wake up.”

  Of course he did. He hadn’t even met Jacob yet, but he was already feeling protective. It was a side that he never let his trainees actually see; they all assumed he delighted in cheerfully beating them into the ground, but Simon had watched him long enough to know better.

  “Do you think there’s a way we can—”

  “According to Dr. Stanton, both boys will be unconscious until the morning,” Masters interrupted. “I assure you, we will be done with your debr
iefing by then. Come along.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Without another word, Jason and Masters swept back down the hallway, leaving the board of directors standing in an unsettled circle, gazing towards the boys. Simon shut his eyes quickly and tried his best to act asleep, but he could still hear them. Whether he wanted to or not.

  “First the incident in Rockford, now this? It’s a virtual killing spree.”

  “But this was inside Guilder’s walls,” a nervous voice replied. “I oversee our security myself, and even I can’t tell you how that’s even remotely possible.”

  “Maybe the boys will know,” the first voice answered. “Maybe the man spoke to them before he died. He was clearly only planning on taking one of them alive. There has to be more to this than a random murder run.”

  “The personal summons delivered to their dorms does suggest that they were specifically targeted. I just don’t see the connection. The Decker kid is brand new. Kerrigan’s not on anybody’s radar outside of this school. And the kid at Rockford—”

  “Don’t talk to me about the kid at Rockford,” the dean interrupted darkly. “You didn’t have to see what was left of the body. You didn’t have to console the parents.”

  A silence settled over them, before one of the men murmured, “Thank bloody goodness for Jason.”

  The dean gave a weary sigh. “Yes, thanks to Jason. I’ll send him a note of apology in the morning. Explain that tempers here were simply running too high.”

  One of the men chuckled sarcastically. “A note of apology? He’ll love that.”

  “Probably mail it back to you in shreds.”

  There was some more somber laughter as the men disappeared up the hall as well, shutting the door behind them and leaving the empty infirmary in a chilling silence. Simon stared up at the ceiling for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest, before he rolled onto his side.

  “Jacob?” he whispered again. “Are you awake?”

  The silhouette didn’t move, but a quiet voice replied. “Yeah.”