Curse of Soulmate--The Complete Series

by D. N. Leo

  Ciaran had shot Zen.

  Madeline approached from behind Ciaran, and then from the side, Stephen appeared. Stephen saw Ciaran holding the gun. The scent of gunpowder still hovered in the air. Stephen approached, holding his hand out for Ciaran’s gun.

  “He would have shot Tadgh if Ciaran hadn’t shot him first.” Madeline cried, grabbing Stephen’s arm. Stephen shrugged her hands off. This was the first time since they had known each other that Stephen had acted like this.

  “Ciaran’s a civilian. He has no right to execute another man, criminal or not. And it wasn’t in self-defense,” Stephen stated clearly.

  Ciaran said nothing. He gave Stephen his gun.

  “No, no . . .” Tadgh charged forward as if he was going to take Stephen down.

  Ciaran grabbed Tadgh, stopping him from attacking Stephen.

  “Jo.” Ciaran snapped back to reality and ran back to the car.

  Chapter 34

  The car park was dark. The air was deadly quiet. Ciaran ran, and in front of him was one vision—Jo lying in the car, dead. It was too dark to tell, and much too quiet for his liking. The others were calling him from far back, but he ignored them. If anything had happened to Jo, it would be his fault.

  He had severely underestimated Zen. Sometimes his arrogance was his worst enemy. He’d had no right to assume that Zen was stupid.

  The car stood lonely in the car park.

  He reached the car before Madeline and opened the car door. It was totally empty.

  Stephen approached and shined a light into the car.

  “The car is empty, Ciaran. Jo isn’t here,” Stephen said.

  “But we saw her!” Madeline asked.

  Ciaran looked at the car floor. He saw a box that looked like a mini projector. “Oh, fuck me . . . it was a fucking hologram!” Ciaran grunted out the words in frustration. He kicked the car. He could feel his blood boiling, and soon his rage would come. He turned around, looking for Madeline. For the first time in his life, during a chaotic moment when he was confused and afraid of his own rage, he needed to hold on to her.

  She was his constant.

  Before he could say anything, and before the rage he was afraid of flooded his mind like tidal waves, Madeline interlaced the small delicate fingers of her hand with his. Warm. Steady. And she just looked at him. And somehow, he just knew his rage wouldn’t surface this time.

  From the far end of the car park, the deep voice of Detective Adamson yelled, “I’m calling the crew back. We should wrap up here.”

  Stephen, Madeline, and Ciaran walked toward Adamson. The detective continued. “What’s with Zen? Bullet in the head!”

  Stephen looked at Ciaran. Madeline looked at Stephen. Ciaran said nothing.

  Stephen’s eyes paused on Ciaran’s face for a moment, and then he pulled Ciaran’s gun out. Stephen said calmly, “I announced myself and asked the offender to put his weapon down. He was aiming at Ciaran. Then he swung the gun at me. So I had to get the gun off him. We struggled. Then Ciaran jumped in, and the gun went off. Apparently, Zen took the stray bullet. I followed protocol, detective.”

  Adamson nodded. “I need the report in writing.”

  Stephen nodded.

  As Adamson gathered his team together, Ciaran approached Stephen. “Thank you. I owe you one.”

  “Was the gun registered under your name?” Stephen asked.

  Ciaran shook his head, and Stephen nodded.

  Madeline approached and looked at Stephen with appreciation.

  Ciaran glanced around, looking for his brother, and saw Tadgh approaching the car. He could see a small dot of red light flashing from under the car, close to the rear wheel.

  “Tadgh, the car is rigged,” Ciaran screamed.

  Tadgh turned and ran from the car. But it seemed he was too late. The car exploded. The loud explosion tore through the quiet air. Birds darted out from their sleeping nests, and wild animals leaped from nearby bushes. The car was in flames. Fire shot out from it in waves.

  Tadgh’s body was thrown in the air and landed with a thud in the cold grass.

  Ciaran darted toward him. That was his stubborn brother lying in the mud, the one he promised his father he would look after.

  “Come on, bastard, breathe! Answer me! Open your eyes! Come on!” Ciaran thrust the phone toward Madeline, saying, “Call Doctor Thomas.”

  He took Tadgh’s pulse. “Come on, come on! Keep breathing!” Then he shook Tadgh’s shoulders. “Open your eyes and look at me!”

  No response.

  “Open your eyes, for fuck’s sake!”. Ciaran peeled off his coat and jacket quickly, leaving himself with only a white business shirt. He rolled his jacket and tucked it under his brother’s head to stabilize his neck. Then he covered Tadgh with his coat.

  “Now that you’re warm and comfortable, open your eyes and look at your brother!”

  Doctor Thomas and Lindsay arrived in the helicopter.

  “He landed badly, but I think his neck is fine,” Ciaran said to Doctor Thomas. The doctor did a quick visual check and cleared Tadgh to be airlifted. Madeline jumped on the helicopter with Ciaran.

  Before taking off, Madeline looked at Stephen, miming her thanks. Stephen nodded and smiled. Madeline saw the gentle look in his soft green eyes, and at that moment, she understood why she hadn’t given him a chance before—he was too good for her.

  The helicopter went straight to Ciaran’s house at Hanley-on-Thames. A large section of the new quarter had been lit up in anticipation of their arrival. After passing through layers and layers of doors, Tadgh was finally pushed inside a room that looked like an operating room.

  “Why not bring him to the hospital, Ciaran?” Madeline asked.

  “We have the best equipment here, and Doctor Thomas is one of the best surgeons in the country. Please wait here,” Ciaran said to Madeline. “And you, too.” Then he disappeared into the operation room.

  At that moment, Madeline realized she was standing next to Ciaran’s mother, and that he had just told his mother to wait outside the operating room.

  The longer Madeline stood waiting, the more her brain went numb. For the entire trip in the helicopter, Ciaran’s universe had revolved around Tadgh. He hadn’t responded to her questions. He didn’t hear her at all. She could see the emotion blasting at him, even bigger than the bomb that had blasted at Tadgh. The scene of Ciaran kneeling next to Tadgh’s lifeless body kept replaying in her head. He looked as if his own life depended upon Tadgh’s survival—so much so that she dare not ask any what if questions. He hadn’t touched her at all during the trip home. Not a hold of the hand. Not a single look. He was completely alone in his grief and concern for his brother. And so was she.

  Where was Jo?

  Was she okay?

  Had she escaped?

  Will Tadgh be okay?

  Madeline shuddered in the chill air. Maybe there was an open window somewhere causing this cold atmosphere. She was standing in the corridor with the god statues, one of them still with a missing toe. She must have made them angry.

  The blue dots appeared again, gathered in the corner. If she wasn’t mistaken, they were dancing at her despair.

  Then she looked at Ciaran’s mother and realized that the chill she felt was not from an open window—it was from Jennifer. The woman could shatter her bones just by her stare.

  She approached Madeline slowly, like a snow leopard observing its wounded prey before cutting its life short. With a calm voice, she stated, “You brought my older son a bullet. Now you brought my younger one a bomb. What will you bring next to this family, Ms. Roux?”

  It was weird to hear her last name spoken in that way. She gave it an emphasis, an accent that brought a totally different meaning to the ordinary word. Her last name. His family. Disaster after disaster. She was going from bad to worse. It was she who had brought bad luck. It was her responsibility.

  It was because of what she had done in the past.

  It was her fault.

/>   Madeline looked at the door to the operating room. It had been a while. The door was still closed. “Can I stay to make sure that Tadgh is okay?” she asked.

  “No. My son, my worries. You’ve done enough harm. Let us live in peace!”

  She was right. Madeline had no place here, in this magnificent palace.

  She had to find Jo.

  Madeline stormed out of the room, walking down the hallway with the line of statues.

  Chapter 35

  Before she knew it, Madeline was outside the high stone walls of the estate. The steel door shut behind her, and the darkness opened in front of her.

  Madeline walked. She was chilled-to-the-bone cold. She should call a taxi. She pulled out her phone and found herself dialing Stephen’s number. The only number in her address book. The only person she could call for help.

  She walked along a main road outside the estate. It was a tree-lined street, but she wasn’t sure it could be called a road. If she called a taxi, she wouldn’t even know where to ask them pick her up. Madeline realized that she was in the middle of nowhere.

  She wondered how Stephen could find her. She turned on the Internet to search for maps. She needed to navigate for herself. She was close to a national park and was indeed in the middle of nowhere. She kept walking. Her teeth started to chatter. The cold air crept through her clothes and brushed her skin. She realized that she had left her beloved red leather jacket at Mon Ciel.

  And then she heard the jingles—those from Mrs. Hanson’s earrings. But the old woman was dead, Madeline reminded herself. She looked around. The Roman soldiers on Fosse Way had had bells that made the same noise. But she saw no one. Nothing but darkness. She was sure she was awake.

  “Roman soldiers, my ass,” she cursed.

  The cold air started cutting into her flesh, so she walked faster. Before she realized it, she was galloping down the road. The ground seemed to slope downward. She was going down a hill, but she wasn’t sure she was following a path. It was much too dark to see.

  In the distance, she saw a flash of car headlights. That had to be Stephen. It had to be. The light was so dim and far away. It was so small that Madeline felt as if she was running through an endless tunnel, and the light was always just out of reach at the end. It might take her a lifetime to get there.

  She called Stephen. “I think I can see you. I can see your car headlights.”

  Stephen turned on his speaker and held the phone in one hand while he steered the car using the other. “I can’t see you, Madeline. I can’t see anything. It’s too dark. I guess I’m driving toward you if you can see my headlights. I’ll blink. Okay? Tell me if you can see it.”

  Stephen switched the headlights on and off three times.

  “Yes, I can see it. From a very long distance, though. Keep on the road. I know it’s hard to see.”

  “Tell me about it!”

  Madeline yelped and dropped her phone on the ground. A searing pain had cut through her right arm. She grabbed at it. She couldn’t see, but she could feel what she knew was warm blood running out from what felt like a gash. She heard the sound of something hitting a tree trunk right next to her. From her experience at Fosse Way, Madeline knew it was a gunshot.

  She grabbed the phone she’d dropped on the ground. It was still working, and Stephen’s voice was coming out from it. “Madeline? Madeline, what happened? Did you fall?”

  “I was shot,” she said.

  Madeline ran toward Stephen’s headlights. She could see the lights moving a lot more quickly, as if Stephen had accelerated.

  One more shot missed her and went past. She could hear footsteps in the mud and shallow water behind her. She couldn’t tell how many people were chasing her. “I think they shot at the LED light of the phone. I have to turn it off.”

  “Don’t. I can’t find you if you turn it off.”

  “Bluetooth is on,” she said and slipped the phone into her back pocket, running for her life.

  Without the light on the phone, the bullets missed her widely. But Madeline knew she wouldn’t be able to keep on like this for long. If they sprayed, that would be the end of her. She dodged and zigzagged as much as possible. She felt dizzy. She must be bleeding badly.

  Stephen’s headlights got closer and closer, and she could hear the car engine. Madeline ran straight toward the light.

  She heard a grunt and saw a shadow flying at her, tackling her. She fell, sliding on slippery grass and rocks.

  The shadow howled. It had to be chimpanzee, she thought, by the shape of it. It tried to strangle her. She heard more footsteps. Maybe from those with guns. Madeline knew if she couldn’t get rid of this monkey, she was doomed. She grabbed a rock near her hand and gave a hard blow to the head of the chimp. It roared and slapped at her so hard that she thought her neck would snap. Madeline flipped and pushed the chimp aside.

  Stephen’s car stopped right in front of her. Its headlights shone straight onto the creature—a tall, bearded, strange-looking man who was grabbing his head. His eye was bleeding severely. Madeline must have taken his eye out with the rock. He stood up, growled, and fled into the bush. She could hear the other footsteps running away.

  Stephen jumped out of the car and charged toward Madeline. “Are you hit again?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied and helped her into the car. The he turned around and drove away quickly.

  It was nearly dawn, but the winter sun was in no way near to giving them any sign of daylight. The car’s headlights showed just enough of the road ahead so that they didn’t veer off into the bushes. They hadn’t driven far before an extreme flash of light beamed at them from ahead. An engine roared loudly, and a truck charged straight at their pitiful rented car. From the shape, the sound, and the speed of the truck, Madeline knew they were no competition.

  The truck hit their car head on. One hit, and their headlights were gone. A second hit and the hood of their car gave in, the engine hissed, and the windows cracked.

  Stephen backed the car away quickly. He tried to keep it straight, but the road they were driving on was not exactly straight. Madeline knew their car couldn’t handle another hit. Stephen kept reversing the car quickly. They slid off the road and flew through the air. The car landed on the fast-running creek.

  “Get out.” Stephen pulled Madeline out of the car. They held on to each other, trying to stay afloat and letting the water carry them downstream.

  Madeline saw the crack of dawn before her world went black.

  Chapter 36

  Doctor Thomas turned off the operation light, pulled his medical mask off, and smiled. Ciaran released a sigh of relief. He had the same medical knowledge as Doctor Thomas did, so the doctor didn’t bother explain to Ciaran about Tadgh’s condition. “Well, I don’t think he’d need to be sedated any longer. I’ll give him some painkillers when he’s up,” the doctor said.

  “Lucky bastard,” Ciaran muttered and grinned. He pulled out his cell phone and turned it on when he saw a message from Detective Adamson flashing. He didn’t check the message but called straight back.

  “Adamson,” the greeting was brusque and almost grumpy. Then Ciaran noticed the time—it was five in the morning.

  “I apologize, Detective. I lost track of time.”

  Adamson snorted. “That’s all right. Doctors and cops don’t work by the clock. I’ve got good news for you. On the way back from Rufford Abbey, I got a call. Turns out Jo ran to a police station and reported the kidnapping. She put down your name as the contact person. Very smart girl. Because of the case at Mortlake, your name is in my file and high priority, so the station tagged me.”

  “Is she all right? Where is she now?”

  “She’s fine and at the station. I’ll call you back later to confirm the status. Is that okay?”

  “That’s perfect. Thank you very much, Detective. I’ll give Madeline the good news.”

  Ciaran hung up the phone and walked a couple of steps when it hit him—tidal waves of pai
n in his brain. He grunted, doubled over, and grabbed his head. Doctor Thomas darted over.

  Ciaran couldn’t hear anything except a robotic voice from a hollow distance, “It’s time, Ciaran. The enemies are coming.” The pain was excruciating, and blood trickled from his nose. All the monitors in the room flashed, and text came across all of them—“It’s time, Ciaran. The enemies are coming.” Doctor Thomas helped Ciaran to stand. Ciaran stood to his full height, towering over the doctor, then slumped to the floor and blacked out.

  He awoke, lying on the floor, with Doctor Thomas crouched next to him. “How long was I out?” he asked.

  “About thirty seconds. How often does this happen, Ciaran?”

  Ciaran sat up. “It was thirty-three seconds that I blacked out, wasn’t it?”

  Doctor Thomas glanced at his watch. “Perhaps. What does that mean, Ciaran?”

  Ciaran stood up, leaning on a bench for a moment to regain his balance. “A long time ago when I was developing a computer program, I came across a cross-over point between alchemy, astrology, and string theory.”

  “String theory? As in the context of parallel universes?”

  Ciaran nodded.

  “It’s a very strange logic to combine these areas together! Like marrying a horse to a kitten.”

  Ciaran winced. “Well, it would definitely require creativity when it comes to their physical incompatibility. But anyway, my strange combination of theories suggested that a major galactic event would occur every thirty three years, where exchanges would be made between universes.”

  “What sort of exchanges?”

  “Energy. Power. Before Father died, he told me that a man has to live up to his duty. But if I ever decided against my duty, he would understand. Then he told me to pay attention to thirty-three. I didn’t know what he meant. But in the last two weeks, with all the migraines and strange static occurrences on computers, I think it has something to do with the theory.” Ciaran shrugged. “Thirty-three has some theological meaning. But thirty-three what? Months? Days? Seconds?”