Chronicles of Devon Page 6

  He took off after them, calmly making his way into the foyer before simply leaping to the top of the stairs. Benji let out an instinctual shout, while Aria froze where she was standing.

  Her eyes dilated in terror and the color drained from her face.

  But she wasn’t looking at her father. She was looking at something behind him.

  “Dad...what is that?”

  Devon whirled around in a flash, reaching for a knife that lived permanently in his pocket, throwing out his free hand to instinctively shield the children from...

  ...what?

  “I don’t see anything,” he panted, still scanning the stairs. “Honey, what did you—”

  A door slammed behind him.

  He whirled around in shock, only to find the children had vanished. The water balloon was reloaded. And he was standing on the wrong side of a locked door.

  After a few seconds, he closed his eyes in actual pain.

  I can’t believe I just fell for that. How am I possibly a spy?

  “I can’t believe he just fell for that!” Benji echoed in an excited whisper, crouched with Aria behind the bed in her room. “How is he possibly a spy?”

  “Oh, spies are the best people to prank like that,” she said fervently. “They’ve seen too many nightmares—they get buried inside their heads. Help me push the dresser as a barricade...”

  Devon took an instinctual step towards them, but stopped just as fast. The barricade was ambitious, but hardly necessary. The second the door locked, a silent alarm had clicked into place.

  After becoming parents, everyone had always teased him for being overprotective.

  Installing a military-level monitor so he could check on the kids whilst on a different continent. Sabotaging the floor outside their bedrooms so he’d hear if anyone approached the door.

  But Rae was the real lunatic.

  On the rare occasions she didn’t tear across the entire planet just to pick them up from school, she’d installed a series of back-up devices to watch over the children for her.

  Aria wouldn’t unlock the door for anyone.

  And if anyone broke it down...her mother would get an alert.

  Devon was not above breaking it down. He had been forced to do so several times before. But he didn’t relish the thought of explaining such a thing to his wife. Especially considering the story included a nasty run-in with a water balloon that he’d rather forget.

  I could go in through the window...

  In reality, there were several way to enter the bedroom. He’d contemplated all of them from the perspective of a possible kidnapper, whilst staring at the ceiling in the dead of night.

  But the door was triggered. The ventilation shaft wasn’t large enough for an adult body, and if anyone attempted to go in through the window they’d be exposing the world of magic to anyone who happened to be walking in the park.

  He suspected his daughter knew this.

  He pulled out his phone instead.

  With his advanced hearing, calls like this were always a bit surreal. He heard the phone ring a few houses down. He heard Julian get up from an armchair and tread to the kitchen to retrieve it. He even heard the faint music playing in the background before the psychic opened the line.

  “Good morning.”

  “What do you know about siege warfare?”

  Julian covered the phone and turned to Angel. There was a brief back and forth, punctuated with the occasional, Yes, I am concerned with the prospect of fatalities, before he came back on the line.

  “She says I’m to bring snacks.”

  TEN MINUTES LATER, Julian showed up with pretzels and coffee.

  “It’s a little early for this, isn’t it?” he asked with a yawn, jogging up the stairs to join his friend in the hall. “Why are you all wet?”

  Devon hesitated a moment.

  “I took a shower.”

  The psychic nodded sleepily, having stayed up too late himself. Without another word, he extended one of the paper cups he was holding. “I saw your cold brew had expired.”

  Devon took it with reverence, closing his eyes with the first sip.

  “You know, people are always marveling at your clairvoyance, how you’ve used it to save the world, but this right here—this is what’s most impressive about you.”

  Julian chuckled under his breath.

  “It’s nice to be valued. So what’s going on here?” He took a step forward, glancing at the shadows flickering under the door. “Tell me it isn’t another hunger strike—”

  His eyes flashed white, and he leapt back as another water balloon exploded beside him.

  “What the heck was that?!”

  Devon just shook his head, gulping down the coffee. “Welcome to my morning.”

  Julian glanced back at him, then shook his head with a grin—flicking drops of water from his hands. “They’re really stepping it up for you, aren’t they?”

  “They’ve been plotting since four in the morning. I heard them whispering about different things they could catapult. At this point, it’s only a matter of time before they pass out.”

  Julian chuckled again, then headed back downstairs with a shrug.

  “Only a matter of time, then.”

  With an absentminded compulsion the two hadn’t known before having children, the men relocated to the living room—putting away toys and ferrying empty plates back to the kitchen. In a strange way, it wasn’t unlike when they had shared the house together. Back in the easy days, when the only thing they needed to worry about were magical psychopaths intent on destroying the world.

  When they were finished, they settled together on the living room floor.

  “You know, Carter’s thinking of hiring Ryan,” Julian said with a sly smile, leaning back against the sofa with his legs stretched out across the floor. “Not field work—in the office.”

  “You have got to be joking,” Devon exclaimed, stacking his son’s multi-colored blocks with a distracted hand. “In the office? Where we’ll have to see him every day?” He cursed under his breath, turning back to the toys. “I’d honestly rather they just sent him out like the rest of us.”

  The psychic watched each motion as the tower slowly progressed.

  “Maybe he could shadow you for a few weeks,” he suggested innocently. “You know, just while he’s learning the ropes. Heaven forbid something happen to him.”

  Devon snorted, curving the design into a spire. “If he’s shadowing me, there’s a good chance you’ll be there as well. Though, between the two of us, I’m sure we could come up with some ghastly accident for the guy...” He trailed off, debating between two pieces. “You know where he might actually help is guarding the prison,” he added suddenly, placing them both. “His tatù would be perfect for that sort of thing.”

  Julian’s lips thinned, bothered by the aesthetic. Then he leaned forward and switched a few things around—handing Devon a different piece so it ascended in a triadic pattern.

  “You should suggest that to Carter,” he agreed. “Anything to keep him from under—”

  The door swung open and the tower collapsed, leaving both friends secretly heartbroken, as a tall man swept into the room. Gabriel took one look at them sitting on the floor amongst the scattered pieces, then cocked his head with a little smile.

  “Are you kids going to daycare, too?”

  “IT’S REALLY NOT HIS fault,” Julian said for the third time, trailing the others up the stairs. “Rae put this weird alarm on the door, so once it’s locked—”

  A balloon swung out of nowhere. Gabriel caught it with a single hand.

  “...they’re also surprisingly well-funded.”

  The assassin glanced over his shoulder, then peered up at the system of pulleys and strings above the door. One finger trailed along the length of the yarn as he murmured under his breath.

  “That is genius...”

  “It’s pretty standard,” Julian answered with a laugh. “Didn’t you ever watch Home
Alone?”

  Gabriel placed the balloon carefully back in the bucket. “Is that a movie?”

  The men shared a glance behind him.

  “Uh...yeah. It’s a movie.”

  And a depressingly apt summary of your childhood.

  “Can you unlock the door?” Devon asked impatiently, nervous that his usual pick-set might trigger his wife’s infernal alarm. “They need to get to the school.”

  Gabriel dug his hands into his pockets.

  “We’ve got some time,” he answered with a grin. “And this is a matter of honor now, Devon. We can’t stoop to such tactics. They’ve already struck the first blow...”

  His eyes twinkled with amusement, lingering on his friend’s wet hair.

  “Okay, this is ridiculous,” Devon cried. “Arie, if you don’t open up this door, your uncles and I are going to prove that we have just as little patience and sanity as your mother. Last warning.”

  There was a moment of silence.

  “...can we order in some pie?”

  Julian preemptively checked the future, while Gabriel raised his eyebrows with a grin. Devon promptly gave up all attempts at intimidation and banged his head against the door.

  “Why must it always be this way?” he moaned, picturing the bright-eyed girl standing on the other side. “Why can’t you have normal interests? Like horseback riding or tennis?”

  Gabriel shot Julian a quick look.

  “He grew up in Esher,” the psychic said quietly. “He doesn’t think it’s strange.”

  “Or piano lessons,” Devon added suddenly, seizing upon the image. “Wouldn’t you like to play the piano? We could set one up in the living room, get you a private instructor—”

  A tiny voice echoed from inside.

  “I prefer a life of espionage and crime!”

  “Perhaps she could take up polo,” Gabriel suggested conversationally. “Or yachting.”

  Julian smacked him before turning reassuringly back to his friend.

  “Arie has plenty of normal interests, Dev. The play just has you spooked.”

  Because she wants to create a serfdom of flaming puppets and gilded fruit?

  Sure. Spooked.

  “It’s not the same for you,” he complained. “Lily’s in love with painting. And she looks like a bloody postcard doing it. Why does mine eat hummus for breakfast and try to weaponize the neighborhood cats?”

  Gabriel and Julian shared another look.

  “Because she’s a tiny version of Rae.”

  They spoke in unison, then laughed as a little boy wandered up the stairs behind them. He’d grown bored waiting for his father in the car, and knew well enough to steer clear of the yarn.

  “What did Auntie Rae do now?” he asked curiously.

  Gabriel chuckled and caught him in a one-armed hug.

  “Nothing. Your Uncle Devon is trying to convince Aria to take up piano.”

  “To keep her from forming a militant street-gang,” Devon added defensively.

  “You can do a lot of damage with a piano wire,” Jason said knowingly, shooting his uncle a meaningful look. “You can exsanguination people.”

  There was an awkward moment as Gabriel glanced between them.

  “...did you try to strangle my son?”

  Jason smirked as Devon let out a weary sigh.

  “He got into my office, read some case files.”

  “And why were they loose on your desk?” Gabriel demanded with theatric indignation. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but there are rules regarding the storage of classified materials—”

  “They were behind a locked door.”

  It was quiet another moment, then Gabriel turned to Jason with the utmost pride.

  “Did you pick that lock all by yourself?”

  The boy beamed back at him.

  “This is turning into a Dickens story,” Julian muttered. “Bunch of child thieves.”

  “Is that Jason?” Benji called suddenly. There was an echo of little feet, then they heard him breathing against the other side of the door. “Jase—I’m sorry, but it’s too late. There’s no way to let you inside without sacrificing all three of us. You’ll have to go to school.”

  You’re ALL going to school.

  Jason nodded solemnly, as if he’d expected no different.

  “It’s been a privilege, Fodder,” he replied, pushing through the adults to reach the door. “Is Arie there? I’d like to say a few words.”

  “She’s burning sage.”

  Devon’s head snapped up. “Where did she get—”

  Pick your battles.

  Gabriel pulled his son back by the shoulders and took his place by the door.

  “In the spirit of you out-foxing us,” he threw a meaningful glance over his shoulder at Devon, “I suggest a friendly competition. Who can stand on one foot the longest? Benji or Aria?”

  The adults shared a secret smile, while Jason stepped forward in dismay.

  “Don’t listen to him! It’s a trap—”

  Julian clapped a hand over his mouth.

  “On my mark,” Gabriel instructed. “Ready...go!”

  There was a flurry of sound in the bedroom as the adults settled themselves casually on the floor—waiting for a combination of sleep-loss and physical exhaustion to do their job for them.

  The bag of pretzels was passed back and forth. The cups of coffee were drained to the very last drop. After what felt like an improbably short time later, they heard the telltale thump.

  Jason crossed himself as Devon pushed to his feet.

  “Finally,” he murmured, reaching for the door. “I was about to—”

  Gabriel caught his sleeve.

  “Wait for it.”

  There was a beat of silence...followed by another thump.

  The adults shared a quick nod and pushed to their feet, watching as Gabriel unlocked the door with a wave of his hand. Sure enough, Aria and Benji were passed out in a pile on the floor.

  A clump of what they’d taken to be sage was smoking behind them.

  “Is that...cilantro?” Julian asked curiously.

  Devon bowed his head with a sigh. “Yes, yes it is.”

  TEN MINUTES LATER, two cars pulled out of the residential block and turned in opposite directions. One was headed to daycare. The other was headed towards the river.

  “He’s growing on you—admit it,” Julian teased, checking the future traffic conditions before pointing to a side street. “You let him watch your baby.”

  Devon spun the wheel, cutting off an angry taxi. “Yeah, but my family doesn’t have as good standards when it comes to that,” he murmured, eyes on the road. “Apparently, any available dog would suffice.”

  Julian laughed under his breath, fiddling with the air-conditioner. “At least you know that when he grows up, he’ll be able to hold his own. Not that you can really use that to threaten Arie...”

  Only a few dozen people in the supernatural community knew the true identity of the time-traveler who’d come back to warn them about Vivian. Even fewer people than that knew what exactly had happened at the riverside that night—the group of teenagers who’d saved the day.

  After the battle, the friends had been offered every compensation imaginable. From money, to promotions, to gifts so absurdly lavish they couldn’t help but blush.

  They’d refused it all. Their sacrifice came with only one condition.

  Keep the secret.

  As far as the rest of the magical world was concerned, time-travel was impossible. More importantly, as far as their children were concerned—that portion of their history didn’t exist. It was hard enough raising a supernatural family without putting that additional doomsday weight upon their shoulders. It was hard enough balancing the present without risking the security of the past.

  “It seems wrong that we won’t eventually tell them,” Devon murmured again, turning onto a quiet street. “And imagine what it’s going to be like—the day Arie gets her tatù. Two children
in the same family seldom—if ever—both get tatùs. Jamie will probably spend his whole childhood thinking he won’t get ink.”

  Julian pulled in a breath, having worried about the same thing many times himself. “When James went back that night to get the others, they were just as surprised to find themselves in the past as we were to see them. We can’t tell them beforehand if they didn’t already know. Not without risking some version of the future that may not align with ours.”

  Devon nodded before shooting him a sideways look.

  “...and James?”

  It was quiet for a few seconds.

  “I saw inside his head, Devon. He didn’t know he was going to get a tatù, and he turned out all the better for it.” Julian turned his eyes back to the road, remembering the psychic connection they’d made one fateful night. “I couldn’t see much inside his mind...but that much is true.”

  Devon nodded again, scanning the cottages alongside the river. “So when it comes time to save the world, we’re just supposed to hope things play out the way they did before? Give them a later curfew one night—in case they need to travel back in time?”

  “I’m sure they’d appreciate that,” the psychic replied. “I’m sure they’d appreciate that now.”

  Devon laughed half-heartedly, cheered in spite of himself. “And in the meantime? What am I supposed to do with my son?”

  Julian glanced over with a little smile. “Teach him to walk.”

  The car rolled to a stop in front of a row of houses not unlike the others they’d been passing for the last half-mile. They were a modest size, but brilliantly placed—with back porch steps that lowered right down to the water. The curtains were drawn back and all of them were welcoming and bright... All accept the one at the very end. That one was sealed tight.

  “This is never going to work,” Devon muttered, peering up at the darkened windows.

  Julian slid a pair of sunglasses over his eyes. “You’d better find a way to make it work. This guy’s a top priority, and Carter put you in charge of his recruitment. There is no back-up plan.”

  Devon shot him a hard look, slipping into his jacket. “Then why are you here?”

  “I’ve come along to be likable and offer you moral support,” Julian answered cheerfully.