Stolen Portrait Stolen Soul: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 2)

by Nellie H. Steele

  “Hello, Celine,” Marcus said, closing the doors behind him. His voice pierced her like a knife.

  She turned to face him. “Hello, Marcus.”

  “I understand you felt an overwhelming need to speak with me right away.”

  “Yes, I did,” she admitted.

  “And what does this urgent matter concern?” Marcus asked.

  “This battle cannot continue between us,” Celine began.

  “I agree,” Marcus answered. “I would have much preferred it never to have started.”

  “You must end your attack on the Buckley family.”

  Marcus stalked to the drink tray, pouring himself a brandy. “Celine, you are aware of what terms I require for it to cease.”

  “I am aware of what you stated the last time we spoke. I’m afraid the price is too steep.”

  Marcus cocked his head. “It was my understanding you felt the price was acceptable, hence your insistence on speaking with me.”

  “I may have miscommunicated my intentions, my apologies.”

  Marcus narrowed his eyes. “Am I to understand that you are not, in fact, leaving Grayson Buckley?”

  Celine deliberated a moment about her response. “That is correct,” she said, staring straight into his eyes, “I do not intend to leave my husband.”

  Annoyance covered Marcus’ face. “How dare you waste my time, Celine. This is not a game!” he shouted.

  “No, it is not!” Celine shouted back. “You are the one who treats it as such. You play with lives as though they are pieces on a game board. You must stop! I have made my choice, it was not you, you must accept that.”

  “I will never accept that, Celine,” he growled at her.

  She approached him. “You must. I will never choose you, never.”

  She turned to walk from the room, but Marcus grabbed her arm, pulling her back. “Then you shall never know peace, Celine. Not until you are mine.”

  She pulled her arm from his grip, narrowing her eyes. “I will never be yours.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure, Celine,” he called after her as she left the room.

  Celine entered the entryway where Teddy and Celeste waited. She walked past them without a word. “Celine?” Celeste questioned.

  “I’m sorry, Celeste, I’ve made a mistake.”

  “Mistake? Celine, explain yourself,” Celeste demanded.

  Celine pulled the door open, turning before stepping out. “I love Gray, Celeste, try to accept that.” She pulled the door shut as she stepped onto the porch. She hurried away from the house without a glance behind her.

  Celine’s replica led Stefano and Dembe down the path toward the beach. “This way,” she said. They came to the cave that led downward to the beach. “Through here,” she said, entering the cave.

  “Celine, what’s happened? Can you explain?” Stefano asked as darkness surrounded them.

  “Please hurry,” she said, continuing on.

  As they emerged from the cave, Stefano grabbed Celine’s arm. “Before we go any further, I need you to explain what happened.”

  Celine’s lip trembled. She glanced to Stefano. “My sister and Teddy betrayed Marcus. They attacked him. Please, we mustn’t waste time.”

  “Wait,” Stefano said, unwilling to move. “Why would you care, Celine? You wouldn’t shed a tear if he died. You’d be free.”

  Celine shook her head. “I realize it would be easier, but it would also be wrong. I cannot do nothing. Now, please!”

  Stefano considered her answer. “All right, take us.”

  “Come, we must row to the island, it’s just there,” she said pointing into the sea. A boat was nearby on the beach. They climbed in. Dembe pushed it into the water before climbing in. Each grabbed an oar and began to row. “Straight ahead, keep rowing.”

  They rowed until the beach was a speck on the horizon. “Celine, where is the island?” Stefano asked, glancing around.

  Celine stared at him without answering. She stood, peering over the side of the boat. No reflection stared back at her. She was the reflection. It was her time to return to the mirror world. Her job was complete. She pitched headfirst into the icy waters.

  “Celine!” Stefano shouted. He lunged after her, unable to grab hold of her. She sank into the waters below the boat, disappearing from view. Stefano stood, removing his jacket. “I’m going after her.”

  Dembe grabbed him. “No.”

  “She’ll drown! Duke Northcott will kill me if I let her die!”

  “No, no. Something is off. We should return to the house.”

  Stefano sat down. “Yes, we must return to the house straight away.”

  Damien sat on the pier, hidden by stacks of crates and barrels, his arm around the painting that stood next to him, still covered by a sheet. Michael had disappeared down the alley toward the local painter’s house. With any luck, he’d be back soon, and they could take the next step in protecting the painting and Celine and her family by extension.

  Nervous butterflies filled his stomach. Every sound made him jump a mile, every shadow alarmed him. They were so close. They couldn’t fail now. Questions crowded his mind. Would the artist have the painting finished? He recalled the date of completion to be in the spring of this year. Did he have the date correct? Would it fit over Celine’s painting? What if it didn’t? What would they do then? How was Celine? Her part of the plan forced her to speak with the dreadful Duke. If he harmed her, it was their fault.

  Worry consumed him. So much so that he failed to hear Michael approaching.

  “Hey, buddy, check it out!” Michael said as he approached.

  Damien almost slipped off his perch, scrambling to his feet. “Oh, whew, it’s you. Sorry, I was distracted.” Michael carried a large package. “Is that it?”

  Michael pulled the wrapping aside. “Behold! Ships in the Harbor! He had it framed already, too!”

  “Aha! There it is! That stupid painting we assumed was so useless here to save the day!”

  “Let’s hope it fits,” Michael said.

  “Yeah, cross your fingers, toes, anything. Let’s try it,” Damien said.

  They glanced around the alley, making sure they were alone. Satisfied they were and hidden by the crates and barrels, Michael unwrapped his painting while Damien pulled the sheet off the portrait. Michael turned his painting backwards. Damien lined up Celine’s portrait.

  “Here goes nothing,” Damien said. Taking a deep breath, he slid the painting into the open space behind the canvas of Ships in the Harbor. “It’s tight,” he said, grimacing,

  “Will it fit?” Michael asked. Damien grunted a bit, adjusting the portrait, pushing again. “Careful not to damage it.”

  “I know, I know,” he said. “Just another inch… almost got it… there!” He exhaled, throwing his arms in the air in triumph. “How’s it look from the front?”

  “Good! Can’t even tell it’s under there. This painting is vibrant, it covers it well.” Damien moved around the painting, inspecting it from the front. “How’s it look in the back?”

  “Upon a close inspection, you may realize there’s another painting stuffed in there, but at a quick glance, I doubt anyone would know.”

  Michael switched positions with Damien, viewing the back of the painting. “It’s good,” he agreed. “Almost looks like one canvas, not two separate paintings. The frame hides it well.”

  “Here’s to hoping it works. Come on, let’s rewrap this painting and deliver it to the house.”

  Celeste burst through the sitting-room door. “What’s happened?” she asked.

  Marcus finished his brandy before answering. “Your sister has made another grave error in judgement.”

  “What?” Celeste was incredulous, not understanding. “There must be some misunderstanding!”

  “If there was a misunderstanding, it was yours, Celeste. Your sister made it very clear she had no intention of leaving that swine she’s married.”

  “Marcus,” Teddy interjecte
d, “there was no misunderstanding on our part. She said she made a mistake, I asked her if it concerned her relationship with Grayson Buckley and she said yes! The girl was in hysterics, sobbing.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Celeste agreed, “and the solution we offered was clear.”

  “We advised her to reconcile with you at once,” Teddy added. “Celeste counseled her, advising her she first needed to admit to her wrongdoing and apologize.”

  “I do not care what she told you. She had no interest in reconciling with me when I spoke with her.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Teddy said. “She couldn’t have changed her mind that quickly!”

  “No! She didn’t express any reservations to me even at the moment you arrived!” Celeste insisted.

  “It matters not. The outcome is infuriating.”

  “Perhaps I should speak with her…” Celeste began.

  “No. She must learn through painful experience,” Marcus said.

  Celeste nodded her head in agreement, stalking across the room, upset.

  “Please let me apologize on both my and Celeste’s behalf, had we known…” Teddy began.

  “I do not care to hear your apologies, Teddy. What I desire now is your allegiance again.”

  “You have it, Marcus. Anything.”

  “Good. Together we will crush our opposition. Celine will have no choice but to return to me. Now,” he said. “I shall return home. I expect not to be disturbed by any more erroneous summons.”

  “Yes, Marcus. Shall I walk with you?”

  “No!” he exclaimed, storming out of the house. He strode down the path toward his home. As he approached the house, Stefano and Dembe raced up the path from the opposite side.

  “Duke Northcott!” Stefano yelled. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, why wouldn’t I be? Where have you been?”

  “With Celine! She told us she needed us to help you. She lured us into a boat. We rowed her into the middle of the ocean, and she threw herself overboard. I fear she may be dead, Duke.”

  “With Celine? Impossible! Where have you really been?”

  “It’s true, Duke Northcott,” Dembe confirmed. “Miss Celine came to the house, hysterical, begging us to help.”

  “No, she couldn’t have. She was with me.” Realization dawned on him. “How long has the house been unattended?”

  “I’m not sure,” Stefano said, “one half of an hour?”

  Marcus closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. He hurried to the house, racing up the steps to his bedroom. He burst through the door, his focus on the easel where Celine’s painting had rested. The easel stood empty. “CELINE!” he roared with anger.

  Chapter 31

  “Careful, careful now,” Damien said, backing through the door of the house. “Don’t want to damage it now!”

  “Got it? I’m almost through,” Michael said as he cleared the door.

  “Yep, set it down here,” Damien answered, nodding his head toward the large table in the center of the entryway. He wiped his brow. “Whew, what a trip!”

  “Yeah, tell me about it,” Michael said. They leaned against the table on either side of the large painting.

  Amos made his way down the stairs. “Well, good afternoon, gentlemen!”

  “Good afternoon, sir!” Michael said, standing straighter. Damien jumped to attention as well. “How is your wife?”

  “Oh, Elizabeth is holding her own. She’s improved a bit with Celine’s medicine. Just a few moments ago she awoke and asked for toast.”

  “It’s a good sign that she has an appetite!” Damien said.

  “I quite agree!” Amos said, rounding the table. “Well, what have we here? Appreciation of local art? Souvenir of your time here?”

  “Ah.” Michael stumbled. “It’s, well, we… that is, sir, we will be leaving today and as a show of our appreciation for your gracious hospitality we hoped you would accept this painting.”

  “Oh? Leaving so soon, what a shame! We have enjoyed having you and I’m certain Mina has enjoyed your company. I regret we weren’t able to spend more time together, but with Elizabeth’s sudden illness, I was plainly distracted.”

  “Oh, we completely understand, sir. As we said, we were so grateful for your generosity that we wanted to impart this small token of our appreciation. It’s not much, just a local artist’s painting, but we hope you will enjoy it in your home for years to come.”

  “What a lovely sentiment. Shall I open it now?”

  “Please feel free, sir, it’s all yours. Oh, there is one provision you must promise.”

  “Provision, Mr. Carlyle?”

  “Yes. It may sound strange, but we’d like you to agree not to get rid of it. Even if you don’t display it in the house.”

  “You have my word, gentlemen! Well, what have we under the wrapping?” Amos said, opening the wrap to unveil the painting. “Hmm.”

  “It’s titled Ships in the Harbor, sir,” Michael told him.

  “It’s very well done. It reminds me of our fleet. What a nice choice, Mr. Carlyle! I’m sure it will provide much enjoyment for us to gaze upon it. It’s quite a large painting, it might do nicely in this very room. Yes, yes, I imagine so. I shall have it hung at once!”

  “We’re so pleased you like it,” Michael said. “We shan’t keep you any longer. If we do not meet again, we wish you the very best.”

  “Thank you and same to you! Safe travels, gentleman, and I hope you will return to visit us soon.”

  With that, Amos left them standing in the entryway. “I guess that’s that,” Damien said.

  “Guess so,” Michael agreed.

  “Well, I guess we better change back to our original clothes and meet Celine. Time to go back to our time.”

  “Not a moment too soon,” Michael said. “Let’s go.” They ascended to the second floor, navigating to their bedrooms and changing clothes. Celine had left a note in Damien’s bedroom, giving them instructions on meeting her later to return to their time.

  Damien entered Michael’s room, waving the note. “Got a note from Celine. She says to meet her on the cliff near the cave leading to the ocean at five. She’ll send us home then. She apologized for not being here to help us with the painting, but she is making arrangements to travel.”

  Michael checked the clock in the room. “That’s a few hours from now,” he noted. “Want to grab something to eat before we leave?”

  “Sure. I hate to say it, but we could walk into town and eat at the pub.”

  “I had the same idea,” Michael said, laughing. “Just what we need, another walk to town, but hey, it’s our last few hours in 1791, let’s live it up!”

  “But I still don’t understand,” Stefano stated as they walked through the woods. “How could Celine be in two places at once?”

  “She created a mimic, a mirror image of herself. Then the real Celine was free to distract me while her doppelganger distracted you and Dembe leaving the painting unguarded for someone to steal. Most likely her husband or his cousin.”

  “Do you imagine we’ll be able to get it back?”

  “No, Stefano, I do not. I’m sure that portrait is under lock and key.”

  “Then where are we going? Why did you want to find Celine?”

  Marcus stopped walking. “It is imperative that she realize there will be consequences to this betrayal.”

  They resumed walking. When the house came into view, they spotted a figure walking down the path toward them. Her blonde hair peeked from under the hood of her cloak. “Ah, Celine,” Marcus said, approaching her.

  “Yes, good evening, Celine,” Stefano added, “I presume it is the real you we’re speaking with since your mimic threw herself into the ocean earlier.”

  “What is it you want, Marcus?” Celine said.

  “To congratulate you! You must be thrilled with your latest achievement.”

  “Achievement? I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Celine said, attempting t
o step around him.

  “Oh, you mustn’t be so modest, Celine. Your theatrics at your sister’s coupled with your doppelganger’s hysteria to draw Stefano and Dembe from the house all designed to reacquire your painting. Are you satisfied now that you have your precious portrait?”

  “Portrait? Why would I need to draw anyone away from your home to acquire my portrait? You claimed not to have it. How could I have taken what you never possessed?”

  “Touché, my dear.” Celine again stepped to the side. “Celine, you’ve accomplished little with your stunt…”

  Celine interrupted him. “As much as I would enjoy continuing this… discussion, Marcus, I am busy. Many things require my attention before tonight.”

  “Tonight?” he inquired.

  “Yes. My husband and I are leaving town tonight,” Celine said, turning to depart. She turned back toward him. “You’d do well to follow suit, Marcus. You have no further business here.” She turned away from him, striding down the path away from them.

  Marcus fumed as she marched away. “Leaving town?” Stefano questioned.

  “Of course she is. She’s gotten what she wants. The painting is in her possession, likely protecting the inhabitants of that bloody house.”

  “Why not stay, Duke Northcott? Continue the pressure on her new family? Surely the painting cannot protect them against your power!”

  “While the Buckleys are important to her, it would do no good to continue my attack on them now. She would still have her precious Grayson. No, we must keep the pressure on Celine herself. She musn’t be allowed to slip away. She must be made to feel overwhelmed, alone, to see that Grayson Buckley cannot help her.”

  “So, what shall we do?” Stefano asked.

  “Prepare to travel tonight. We will follow her to the ends of the earth if the need arises. Return now to the house, inform Dembe. I shall return soon. I have a few matters I must attend to.”