The man swallowed hard. “I can’t, missus, don’t make me.”
“WHO?” her shrill voice inquired.
“Marcus Northcott,” he whimpered.
Celine trembled with anger. “Say it again.”
“Marcus Northcott,” he repeated. She stood, crossing her arms, staring into space, considering her next move.
“Thank you, Mr. Ward. And now you shall discuss this incident no further.” Celine waved a hand over his throat before snapping her fingers. The shackles fell open, and the man stood, trembling. “Go.”
“Wait!” Damien exclaimed. “He could go out and tell anyone what we did!”
Celine raised her eyebrow at him. “Ask him to describe the incident to you,” she suggested.
Damien, wide-eyed, glanced between her and the others.
“Did you tell Duchess Northcott about why you killed her father?” Michael asked.
The man opened his mouth to answer, but no sound emerged. Celine gave them a curt smile. “I assure you, he’s quite mute. Now go, Mr. Ward, before I change my mind to a more permanent punishment.”
The man raced from the room. Celine stalked to the back, retrieving her gloves. She pulled her hood over her. “Gentlemen, our business is concluded here,” she stated, pulling her gloves on. “We have established the validity of your claims.”
“Celine,” Damien said, approaching her and placing a hand on her arm. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve no need for your apologies, Mr. Carlyle,” Celine responded. “What I require is the information you have to share. It is obvious you have knowledge of many things concerning my life. I must learn what you know.” She turned to Alexander. “You shall call upon me tomorrow, Mr. Buckley. You will offer an invitation to your country home in gratitude for the invitation I provided to Lord Blackburn’s ball. I shall accept and travel to stay there in two days, where we may discuss the matter freely. Are we clear?”
Alexander glanced to the others. “Uh, yes, Duchess Northcott,” he stammered, amazed at the turn of events.
“If we are to work together, please, call me Celine,” she stated.
“What about the Duke?” Damien asked.
“That is my affair, Mr. Carlyle.”
“Call me Damien, please,” Damien replied.
“Damien,” she said, nodding with a tight-lipped smile.
“I shall expect you tomorrow afternoon, Mr. Buckley.” Celine stepped toward the exit.
“Wait, Celine,” Gray responded. “Perhaps I should walk you to your residence. This part of town can be dangerous.”
“Thank you, Mr. Buckley. However, I do not require your protection. I am capable of defending myself.”
“Call me Gray, please,” he replied. “For companionship, then.”
“I’m afraid I wouldn’t make for a very good companion at this moment, Gray,” Celine admitted.
“That does not put me off,” Gray answered.
“Then you are welcome to join me,” Celine responded. “Gentlemen, good night,” she said to the others before stalking from the room. Gray followed her.
Michael, Damien and Alexander glanced at each other for a moment. “I suppose we should return home,” Alexander suggested when he gained his voice.
Damien and Michael nodded their agreement. They left the pub, beginning their walk home. A few minutes into their walk, Damien spoke. “Okay, wow!” he exclaimed. “Since no one else wants to say it, I’ll say it.”
“Ah, yeah!” Michael agreed. “For a second there, I assumed we were done. When he kept saying ‘I robbed him’ and wouldn’t admit it.”
“Then all of a sudden he just names him. Marcus Northcott did it. I was sweating bullets before that, too,” Damien admitted.
“Gentlemen, I must admit, I continue to be shocked at the events unfolding,” Alexander responded.
“At least it worked out,” Damien replied. “I’m glad for that. We felt awful about what happened last night.” Damien stopped walking. “If we had cost you your business or worse, I couldn’t have lived with myself.”
“I appreciate your sentiments, Damien,” Alexander answered. “Come along, we have much to discuss. I’d like to learn everything you know about Celine. We must be prepared for her arrival at the country estate. I shouldn’t like any more surprises.”
Damien and Michael agreed, promising to review all their information the next morning before Alexander called on Celine. When they arrived home, they went straight to bed, exhausted from the draining experience.
Present day, Bucksville
Celine laid awake in the darkened room. The glow from the medical equipment monitoring Damien’s vital signs provided enough light for her to make out Damien’s features. She stared at the monitor, counting the seconds until the next spike appeared, marking his heartbeat. She held her breath between beats, afraid the next one wouldn’t appear. His chest rose and fell in rhythm.
She held his hand in hers. Cold to the touch, it reflected the drop in his body temperature. Try as she might, Celine could not manage to warm it. They had added extra blankets to the bed, tried hot water bottles, built fires in the room’s fireplace, but nothing raised his or Michael’s body temperature. In fact, it had dropped further since the initial drop Millie noted.
As midnight approached, the activity on the monitor changed. Damien’s heart rate raced, spikes appearing on the monitor closer together than before. His chest rose and fell in rapid succession as his breathing increased. Celine glanced to the monitor representing Damien’s brain activity. It showed an increase in activity.
Celine leapt from his bed, racing to Michael’s room. She glanced at his monitors. They told a similar story, increased breathing and heart rate along with brain activity. “What is it, Celine?” Gray asked as she raced in the room.
“The monitors,” she answered, pointing at them. “Damien’s are doing the same. I’ll wake Millie.”
“No, you stay with Damien. I’ll wake her,” Gray offered.
“Thanks, Gray,” Celine answered, squeezing his hand as he exited the room.
Celine returned to Damien’s room. She stared at the monitors, wondering what story they were trying to tell. Millie rushed into the room moments later. She glanced at the monitors. “And Michael is experiencing a similar phenomenon?”
“Yes,” Celine answered.
“Just a moment, I want to see his stats,” Millie answered, excusing herself.
She returned moments later. She noted a few things on her chart, then checked a few other vitals. She wrote a few more observations, then rejoined Celine and Gray, who waited at the foot of the bed.
“Well?” Celine asked, clutching Gray’s hand that sat on her shoulder.
“I’m afraid the news isn’t good,” Millie admitted.
“What? Isn’t this the same as before? Some sort of stimulus?”
“The symptoms are similar and do correspond with the idea that they are a reaction to some kind of stimulus. However, we haven’t identified any stimulus that could be the cause.”
“And that’s a bad thing?” Celine questioned.
“No, that’s not it.”
“Then what?” Celine prodded.
“Their body temperature has dropped again. I’m afraid it’s becoming serious at this juncture. We haven’t had any luck raising their body temperatures and instead, their temperature continues to drop.”
“What does that mean, Millie?” Gray asked.
“They will soon begin to turn hypothermic. Without the ability to raise their temperatures, we won’t be able to reverse the process.”
“What are you saying?” Celine demanded.
“I’m saying that if their temperatures continue to drop unchecked and without our ability to raise them… they will die of hypothermia.”
Celine’s jaw dropped as a tear rolled down her cheek. “No!” she cried. Gray squeezed her to him. “There must be something we can do.”
“I’m sorry, Celine,” Millie answered. �
��I’m afraid their bodies are failing. The temperature drop coupled with their other symptoms suggests this is the case. We’ll do what we can to keep them comfortable, but you may want to prepare yourself.” Silence surrounded them for a few moments. “I’ll leave you to process everything and check back later. If there is anything you need, either of you, please ask.”
Celine whispered a thank you to Millie, before perching on the edge of the bed next to Damien. The door closed as Millie exited the room. “Celine,” Gray began, putting his hand on her shoulder.
The gesture triggered an emotional response from Celine. She buried her head in her hands, weeping. “Hey, hey, hey, Celine,” Gray whispered, pulling her hands away from her face. “Come on, he’s not gone yet.”
“Yet,” Celine repeated, staring at him. She stood from the bed, pacing the room. “He’s dying, Gray. And there’s nothing we can do about it. He’s just… stuck from whatever that electrical pulse was that Marcus and I generated during our battle. I mean, what…” Her voice trailed off mid-sentence.
“Celine,” Gray answered. “It’s not your fault it’s…” Celine held her hand in the air, stopping him. Her brow furrowed. “What is it?”
“That electrical pulse,” Celine began.
“What about it?”
“We’re assuming that’s what did this to them.”
“So?” Gray questioned.
“So, whatever that impulse was it was powerful enough to send Marcus and I to Shadow World.”
“Okay?” Gray inquired.
“What if it did something similar to Michael and Damien?”
“Sent them to Shadow World?” Gray queried. “They’d be dead by now, Celine.”
Celine shook her head. “No, not Shadow World, somewhere else.”
“Why would it send you to Shadow World and them somewhere else? And it didn’t affect us at all!”
“The magnitude of the effect must have waned by the time it reached everyone beyond Marcus and me. It was too weak to affect you, Alexander and Celeste, but Michael and Damien are human. It could have easily been strong enough to have affected them. But by the time it reached them, perhaps it had morphed, and the effect was different. Or the effect was different because they were human. Perhaps both.”
“Okay, so what does this tell us? Where could they be?”
Celine stalked around the room, deep in thought. “I’ve only seen this once before. Marcus and I traveled to Germany before you and I met. A man there told us about Alterra. Given the symptoms, their apparent reactions to stimuli at the same time and the drop in their body temperatures, I’d imagine they are there.”
“What is Alterra? I’ve never heard of it,” Gray responded.
“It’s a sort of alternate reality. There are myriads of them. Realms where life played out differently. Different choices were made, creating an entirely different world.”
“What makes you think they are there?”
“Marcus visited one of these bands while we were in Germany. He experienced the same effects. Obvious signs of reaction to stimulus, decreased body temperature. Of course, it had no effect on him, he is immortal.”
“Perhaps it’s just an effect from the pulse, Celine. What if you’re wrong?”
Celine considered it. “I’m not. What are the chances they experience the same reactions at the same times by chance? They are together, they are experiencing something together.”
“So, what does this mean?”
“It means we can save them.”
Chapter 20
1812, London
Michael, Damien, Alexander and Gray spent the morning hours discussing information about Celine. Alexander and Gray remained amazed at Michael’s and Damien’s accounts of the different life Celine led. They were determined to correct the errors that occurred.
Alexander planned to ride to the country estate following his call to Celine to prepare the staff. Michael, Damien and Gray planned to travel the following day to reach the country estate. Celine would arrive in two days.
Alexander arrived at the Northcott residence and was ushered into the sitting room. He did not wait long for Celine to enter. She offered him tea or brandy. He refused both. Being around her still unsettled him. The strange events of the past few days caused him to view Celine as an enigma. He had witnessed her ferocity when angered, and he had no desire to be on the receiving end of it.
“Please, sit, Mr. Buckley. Are you quite sure I cannot offer you a refreshment? Perhaps some tea?” Celine inquired, perching on the edge of the couch.
Alexander attempted to read her controlled demeanor. “Whatever you deem is best, Duchess.”
Celine offered the briefest of smiles before ringing a bell. The butler returned. “Tea, please.”
“Yes, Duchess Northcott, right away.” He departed from the room, returning with a tea tray in a few minutes as Celine and Alexander exchanged pleasantries. Celine poured the tea as he left, offering a cup to Alexander. “I must remind you to call me Celine, Mr. Buckley.”
“My apologies, Duch… Celine,” he corrected. “And I must invite you to call me Alexander.”
Celine poured her own cup of tea, stirring in cream and sugar. She sipped at the cup before setting it on its saucer. “I assume you’ve made the arrangements?”
“Oh,” Alexander replied. “Yes. I’ve sent word already and plan to ride there after this call to oversee the final arrangements. The staff are very excited to welcome a duchess.”
“You needn’t make a fuss, Alexander.” She sipped her tea. “Your cousins are quite puzzling. Their information is accurate, yet there is no clear way that they obtained it. What can you tell me about them?”
Alexander weighed the amount of information appropriate to tell her. He glanced up from his teacup, finding her crystal blue eyes fixed on him. Her stare made him uncomfortable, and he wondered for a moment if she may be reading his thoughts. “You may speak freely, Alexander. I do not seek the information to hold over you, only to understand how they might come to possess such knowledge.” Perhaps she could, in fact, read his mind. He decided the best course of action was to tell the truth.
“Then I must confess, Michael and Damien Carlyle are not, in fact, relations of mine. And I must admit to being baffled when they arrived.”
“Baffled?”
“Yes. They arrived on my doorstep one evening several days ago, claiming we were acquainted. I had never met them before.”
“How is it that they sought you out?”
“As odd as it may sound, they recalled my telling them about the London house while on my uncle’s estate in Massachusetts.”
“Yet you had never met them in Massachusetts? Or anywhere?”
“Correct. When I admitted as much, they told me a fantastical story. Then they asked to see you. They sought your help. But I leave it to them to address this with you.”
“What made you believe them?”
“Two things. First, as you noted, they possessed knowledge that they couldn’t have obtained. Second, as you also mentioned, their earnestness. It seemed clear they were not attempting to be disingenuous. They deemed what they said to be the truth.”
“Hmm,” Celine murmured, sipping her tea again. “This should prove to be an interesting visit, Alexander.”
Alexander set down his teacup, intending to leave. Before he stood, he asked another question. “Forgive me for asking, Celine, but will your husband travel with you?”
“I expect so. If not with me, within a day of me.”
Alexander’s stomach turned. He was still unsure of Celine. Her cool confidence made her unreadable. The limited dealings he’d had with her prior to Michael and Damien’s arrival gave him the impression they could not be friends. His opinion was changing as he learned more, but he remained uncertain of her. The addition of Marcus Northcott made his skin crawl. Should Celine’s attitude somersault, they could find themselves in a terrible predicament.
Celine noticed the expression
on Alexander’s face, reading it easily. She set down her teacup on its saucer. “There is no need for consternation. I am capable of handling my husband. And discussions of this nature are certainly more private on your estate than here.”
Alexander offered a tight-lipped smile, unsure of how to respond. Celine continued, “I am loyal to those friends who prove loyal to me, Alexander. You and your friends have proven more than loyal. Do not fret, no harm will come to you, your family or friends.”
Alexander swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. “You are most gracious, Celine. However, your husband is a powerful man. I’m sure you understand my concern.”
“My husband is a powerful man, but even his power has its limits. I am every bit as powerful as he and trained by him. I know his tricks, his methods. While he is capable of grandstanding and things may prove uncomfortable, no harm will come to you, I assure you. There is no need for apprehension.” Celine stared at him a moment. When he did not respond, she added, “If you fear some reconciliation between us, please reassure yourself I am not a woman so easily swayed.”
Her forthrightness struck Alexander. He wondered again if she could read his mind. Given her effort to assuage his fears, he stood to depart. “Thank you for your reassurances, Celine. I apologize for my faintheartedness.”
Celine stood. “There is no apology necessary. My husband can drive even the fiercest men to cowardice. However, I find no such weakness in you. You shall prove a staunch ally, Alexander.”
“Good day, Celine,” he said, bowing to her. “I look forward to your visit with much anticipation.”
“I shall see you in two days, Alexander. Safe travels.”
He departed from the Northcott residence. His mind swam with deliberations. The events of the past few days were dizzying. While not directly involved in most instances, he had watched Duke Northcott’s power grow over the years. Without warning, a visit from the strange and mysterious Carlyles had thrown him into dealings with the Northcotts. In addition, it now appeared Duke Northcott’s chokehold on the world may be coming to an abrupt end.
Gone: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 3) Page 24