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On Aria’s third birthday, a man had shown up at the house wielding a croquet set and a pitcher of lemonade, only to be turned away at the door by her father with a gun. A few years after that, there had been an incident with a cotton candy machine and a batch of crudely-made balloon animals at the London Aquarium. A few years after that, her grandmother had intervened and that same man had been invited to Christmas dinner. That’s when they formally met for the first time.
“I can’t believe my eyes!” The door pushed open and the smell of blueberry muffins wafted outside. “If it isn’t my two favorite teenagers in the whole world!”
Kraigan Kerrigan.
It was said Aria’s infamous uncle had been ‘unstable’ during his brief tenure at Guilder. As time went on, ‘unstable’ progressed to ‘homicidal’ before turning to full-on psychosis.
The man’s personnel file was thicker than all the others combined, boasting everything from open investigations, to falsified passports, to a memorable summer several years earlier where he’d been imprisoned for impersonating a member of the Danish Royal Guard.
The children had been banned from ever entering his house. Their parents blatantly refused all contact, acknowledging his presence only once a year after threat of open violence from Beth.
And now here we are...asking for his help.
“Hey, Uncle Kraigan,” Aria said with a forced smile, tucking a strand of hair nervously behind her ear. “We’re sorry to just drop in on you, but—”
“Nonsense!” He threw up his hands, kicking the door open wider. Only then did she realize he was wearing nothing but an apron and a French beret. “Please, come in!”
This is a bad idea.
Jason heard the telepathic warning, but ignored it—even allowing himself to be awkwardly hugged as he made his way through the door. Aside from Aria and James, he was the most coveted of all the children, given that Kraigan had come to see Gabriel as the brother he never had.
“Jase, you’re even taller.” The man beamed, beckoning them both forward, locking the door ominously behind them. “And I love whatever’s happening with your hair.”
Aria edged discreetly out of reach, while Jason lifted a tentative hand to the streak of silver.
“Oh, uh...thanks.” He flashed a quick grin, remembering they’d come with a request. “To be honest, it wasn’t really my idea—”
“No, it was that damn tiger.” Kraigan’s eyes flashed ever so briefly, revealing a hint of mania buried underneath. “Is that why you came here? You want me to kill someone for you?”
The teenagers froze for a split second, then he let out a booming laugh.
“I’m only joking—it’s a Sunday!”
...and murder is a weekday occupation?
He took one more look at their stricken faces, then started leading them down the hall.
“You know what—you’re here, that’s what matters! Loosen up, guys! Take off your jackets, take off your shoes. Cam isn’t here right now—she’ll be sorry she missed you—but she’s become a real stickler for tracking dirt into the house. Something about this ancient Japanese proverb and the psychological benefits to having a ‘clean space’. Do you like muffins? I just made a batch—”
Aria caught Jason by the arm as he walked past. “It’s not too late to turn back,” she muttered quietly, not knowing which set of ink her uncle was currently using. “I could text right now for a cab—”
“I have to do this,” he said shortly, extracting his sleeve. “I have to be here.” He took a few steps further, then glanced over his shoulder. “You coming, Wardell? The man made muffins.”
...they’ll find our bodies at the park.
“Right behind you.”
After carefully removing their shoes the pair of them followed Kraigan into the kitchen, choking on the smell of blueberries, trying to ignore the life-size dollhouse standing in the corner.
“Were you expecting company?” Jason asked curiously, eyeing the five baskets already filled to the brim. “Like...lots of company?”
Kraigan rolled his eyes, as if the whole thing was rather tiresome.
“They’re for the neighborhood potluck. I’d asked if I could bring a savory dish, but apparently if you’re not on the committee those slots fill up pretty quick.”
Aria and Jason stared a moment, then started nodding quickly.
The house looked absolutely nothing like how they’d envisioned. Instead of some spectral Victorian with metal paneling and enough fake passageways that an intruder would eventually just starve, they were standing in a Better Homes and Gardens knockoff right in the heart of the London suburbs. The kitchen sported things like a banana hammock and a panini press. And although neither of them could see any speakers, the faint strains of children’s choral music tinkled through the air.
The man looked absolutely nothing like how they’d envisioned either. Aria had thought it was strange enough when he came to their last Christmas celebration dressed in an argyle sweater set with a bag of golf clubs brought along as a prop. But this new version of her uncle, half-naked and baking in a French hat, was somehow every more terrifying.
...we shouldn’t be here...
She was about to make another brave stab at conversation, when a small tabby leapt onto the counter beside her and licked the side of her hand. Her lips curved into an automatic smile. “Aw...when did you get a cat?”
Kraigan glanced up with a faint frown. “I didn’t.”
She slowly retracted her hand.
“So what brings you kids to my neck of the woods?” he asked jovially, forgetting the mitts and pulling a tray from the oven with his bare hands. They watched in morbid fascination as the skin simultaneously blistered then healed. “I have this potluck at six, but you’re more than welcome to come along. In fact, if you’re able to stay a bit longer, I have a little late-night demolition planned for that ghastly fountain a few doors down.” He glanced up hopefully. “I could always use a lookout.”
And THAT’S my cue to call for a cab.
“Why don’t we talk about it outside?” Aria suggested innocently, glancing at the stucco walls and framed Kincades as if they might spontaneously catch fire. “It’s such a beautiful day—”
“I was hoping to ask you a favor,” Jason interrupted, gazing into the man’s eyes with quiet intensity. “I’m having trouble tracking someone down. Mostly because I just know her name and have no idea what she looks like. But she’s somewhere inside my memories, and I just thought...I thought that if you could see her for yourself, then maybe you could...”
He hung his head, looking suddenly lost.
“...I just need to find her.”
A heavy silence fell over the kitchen. The batch of muffins in the oven caught fire and discreetly burned. Kraigan stared at him a few seconds, then took off the beret.
“Are we talking about your mother?” he asked softly.
Considering the man was severely unhinged, there was something surprisingly thoughtful about him as well. When Jason froze up in front of him, caught like a deer in the headlights, he nodded silently. He then shut off the oven and headed into the living room.
“Wait here...I’ll put on some pants.”
* * *
JASON AND ARIA SAT together on a love seat, waiting in silence, knees bouncing nervously as they stared around the room. Either by accident or design, it looked uncannily similar to the Aldens’ own living room—a fact that would surely disturb Gabriel to no end. The furniture was arranged identically, the walls were painted the same creamy hue. Aria glanced discreetly at the pictures, half-expecting them to be photo-shopped knockoffs, when Kraigan swept down the hall.
The apron was gone and he appeared rather normal—wearing dark jeans and the same non-descript sweater every spy had inexplicably hanging in their closet. The only thing remotely jarring was the necklace featuring a single human tooth, but that was tucked quickly into the sweater as he settled in the recliner beside them, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.
“You know...I’ve had almost this exact conversation before. Your father came to me several years ago and asked for a similar favor. He didn’t have much to go on either, but I managed to save the day. His father and I are very close friends,” he added authoritatively to Aria. “That sort of thing bonds you in a way that’s closer than blood.”
Aria lifted her eyebrows, but said nothing.
Gabriel had changed his number five times to avoid getting calls from Kraigan Kerrigan. He had lodged a formal complaint with the Council and even applied for a civic restraining order. When none of that worked, they’d come to an understanding. If Gabriel would spend two weekends of the year ‘hanging out’, then Kraigan would leave him alone the other three hundred and sixty-one days.
“I know.” Jason nodded quickly, eager to move things along. “I just read that in one of his files. He needed to track down this agent of Cromfield’s and you pointed him to New York.”
Aria glanced at him in surprise. It seemed her secretive new boyfriend had been looking for something specific that day in the library after all. Not that he’d bothered to share the information.
Kraigan nodded slowly, weighing each word. “Gabriel came to me later, too, a few days after he found you in that fire. He asked for the same thing you’re asking now...help locating your mother.” He tilted his head ever so slightly, measuring Jason’s reaction. “I got the feeling he didn’t really want it to work, but he asked for it anyway. Begged me, in fact. I tried, Jason, but I couldn’t find her.”
“But you didn’t have access to my memories,” Jason insisted, perched on the very edge of his seat. “There has to be a way you can—”
“Why don’t you ask Natasha?” Kraigan interrupted quietly, surprising Aria yet again.
It was an obvious question, one that had popped into her head the very second she learned such a thing was possible. It must have popped into Jason’s head the very second he learned it was possible as well, and yet he hadn’t done it. And the look on his face had made her afraid to ask.
Sure enough, he paled and shook his head. “I can’t,” he muttered.
Aria stared at him in confusion, but Kraigan leaned back with a strange sort of calm.
“And why is that? You’re asking me to search through the recesses of your mind for the face of a stranger, but your own mom is the expert on memory extraction. Why not get her to do it, then get Julian to draw it out? Then you could go to any experienced tracker, and they’d be able—”
“I can’t ask my mom!” Jason blurted, dropping his eyes to the floor. “I can’t ask my mom to help me find my mother. It would...it would break her heart.”
The room went quiet.
Sometimes, it was the secrets people kept, the things no one would ever know, that would have mattered the most. Gabriel, ignoring his own feelings, asking Kraigan to help him give back the child he so desperately wanted to keep. Jason, resigning himself to a life of unanswered questions just so his new mother would never have to cry.
The three of them sat there for another minute.
Jason’s eyes were trained on the floor, Aria was trying very hard to hold back tears, and Kraigan was staring at them with that same steady calm.
It took her a moment to realize what was so strange about it. It was strange because it was familiar. In times of crisis, her mother got the very same look.
“I’m assuming you expect me to keep this from Gabriel?” he asked suddenly, eyes narrowing to something rather shrewd. “We have no secrets, he and I.”
It took everything Aria had not to roll her eyes, but Jason was in his own world.
“Please help me do this,” he said quietly. “Please, Kraigan. I just...please.”
The man stared at him a moment, then smiled. “Well, all right then.”
In a flash he brought their chairs together, grabbing Jason’s wrists so suddenly it took everything the guy had not to jump and pull away. Not that it would have worked. There was a reason the ‘other Kerrigan’ was respected as much as he was feared. The man had as much raw natural talent as his older sister, and far fewer qualms about using his extraordinary ink.
“Deep breaths,” he commanded with the authority of a brain surgeon. “Count backwards from ten...”
Jason’s eyes flashed up in alarm. “Am I going to black out?”
Kraigan met his gaze slowly, then burst out laughing once again. “Of course not—just trying to lighten the mood. But seriously,” he sobered instantly, staring at the young man with a hint of concern, “take a deep breath. We’re extracting the memory first.”
Aria’s eyes flashed between them, waiting for the next step, when suddenly she realized what that next step was going to be. For the first time in his life, Jason was about to see his mother.
It struck him at the same time.
A look of sheer terror swept over him, but he checked it quickly—clenching his jaw and squaring his shoulders. Breathing much faster than normal.
“Yeah,” Kraigan muttered, “that’s exactly what I meant about deep breaths.”
Jason lifted his head obliviously. “What?”
“Nothing, kid. You ready?”
Unable to speak, Jason simply nodded—casting a fleeting glance at Aria before closing his eyes. Kraigan did the same. A second later, their heads snapped down to their chests.
Please let this work...please let this work...
Aria watched without blinking, completely rigid on the chair. On the surface, nothing looked any different. But she’d been down that rabbit hole enough times to know the chaos bubbling just underneath. A few more seconds passed and she found herself lifting to her knees, kneeling behind Jason and resting both hands on his shoulders. Her eyes tightened with worry the longer they stayed under, then she pressed a secret kiss to the back of his neck and simultaneously amended her chant.
Please don’t let this hurt him...
The seconds ticked by, one after another. Somewhere in the kitchen, the uninvited tabby was licking at the muffin batter still waiting in the bowl. Aria drummed her fingers nervously against her boyfriend’s shoulders, wondering if she should have insisted upon finding the woman another way.
Then all of a sudden—
“Holy shit!”
Jason jerked back his hands with a gasp, still spinning from everything he’d just seen. He leaned without thinking into Aria, unaware that every inch of his body was trembling. But his eyes were locked on Kraigan, completely unable to tear themselves away.
Her uncle came out of it more gracefully, blinking several times before lifting his head.
“...she’s pretty.”
She IS pretty? So...that means she’s alive?
“Jase?” Aria shook him gently, lifting a hand to the side of his face. It took a few moments but he finally twisted round to face her, still looking like he’d seen a ghost. “...you found her?”
Never in her life had she seen such an expression. She wouldn’t have thought it possible.
“She was...” He trailed off breathlessly, latching on to every precious detail he could. “She was carrying me down the hall...we’d just had lunch together. She was wearing a green jacket.”
Kraigan was scribbling something on a paper behind him, coming out of a different kind of trance. When he glanced down to see what he’d written, he looked rather surprised.
“Here’s the address,” he said quietly, folding it between two fingers and pressing it into Jason’s hand. “It’s not a residence...it’s where she is right now.”
Jason stared at it for a moment before stuffing it into his coat. “...thanks.”
Kraigan nodded briskly, suddenly wondering if he’d done the wrong thing. But Jason caught him by the sleeve as he made to stand up again.
“Seriously, Uncle Kraigan...thank you.”
The two locked eyes for a moment, then Kraigan nodded again.
“You’ll want to give it a few hours. I think they open at six.”
* * *
THE VISIT MIGHT HAVE taken a somber turn in the middle, but Kraigan seemed determined to pick up everyone’s spirits before they left. He did everything he could think of to stall them, offering muffins, firearms, even a tour of the local community center—all of which they politely declined.
“No, we should really get going,” Jason said for the twelfth time. Only a sense of profound gratitude had kept him from bolting out the door the second he had the address. “It’s already a little after five, and if you say this place opens at...” He trailed off, staring uncertainly at a picture mounted on the wall.
Kraigan whipped around to see what caught his attention, then beamed with pride. It was a self-portrait. At least, that’s what it was supposed to be. True to form, the man had tweaked it just a little. He was surrounded by corgis. He was also wearing a cape.
“Watercolors,” he said importantly. “My newest medium.” He paused suddenly, looking the pair up and down. “I don’t suppose either of you would consider staying for a portrait—”
“Gotta run!” Aria said quickly, catching Jason by the hand.
They politely fled the house, so thoroughly overwhelmed by everything that had transpired it would take a small miracle to sort it all out. They’d made it all the way to the front door, a cab idling impatiently by the curb, when Aria suddenly turned once more.
“...how did you know it was a tiger?”
Kraigan paused behind her, lifting his head with an innocent smile.
“Sorry?”
She hesitated, not knowing how far to press. Not knowing if she even wanted to press.
“When we first got here, you said that a tiger had attacked Jason. How did you—”
He laughed again and caught her in a suffocating squeeze, one that conveniently stopped the question before it began. “My dear, we’re family. What kind of an uncle would I be if I didn’t take an active interest and keep track of the things going on at your school? My sources said it was a tiger.”
She looked up suspiciously, pulling herself away.
Sources...?
“Cameras? Do you mean cameras—”
“Thanks again, Uncle Kraigan!”
Jason grabbed the back of her jacket and yanked her down the porch steps, moving quickly to the safety of the cab. Without a word, he pulled the address from his pocket and handed it up to the cabbie—who lifted his eyebrows ever so slightly then fired up the engine.
When they pulled away from the curb, Kraigan was still waving from the doorway. The cat was still inside stealing the batter; the fountain was still bubbling happily a few houses down, not knowing this sunset would be its last. And somewhere in London a woman was heading obliviously into work, not knowing her long-lost son was about to make a crash appearance back into her life.
All in all, it was a fairly typical Kerrigan family visit.
“So what do you say?” Aria asked nervously, once they’d rounded the corner and gotten back onto the main road. “Back to the dorms? I’ll fix you a tray in the cafeteria.”
Jason flashed a little grin, then tapped on the plastic partition. “I’ll pay double if you get us there by six.”
