Gone: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 3) Nellie Steele (if you liked this book .TXT) 📖

“Damien, your conversation with Celeste is useless if you are too tired to process the information,” Alexander stated.

“Okay, okay, fine. Tomorrow night then,” Damien agreed. “So, what else can you tell us?”

“There isn’t much else,” Gray admitted. “Celeste was the last to see her. There has been no trace of her. We’ve checked buildings on the estate, checked in town. There’s nothing.”

“I realize you said this had nothing to do with the adjudicator,” Damien said, “but ‘disappeared without a trace’ sounds supernatural, doesn’t it?”

“We were aware the last time she disappeared because of the adjudicator,” Alexander answered. He paused, glancing to Gray. “We… were given the chance to say goodbye.”

Damien swallowed hard, realizing how horrific that must have been for them. “But it’s not like a normal person could have taken her, right? She’d just blast them with one her fireballs and come home.”

Gray nodded. “You’re right, it’s not a normal person. She wasn’t abducted. I’m not sure that knowledge helps us.”

Damien collapsed onto the couch. “What a mess.”

“Perhaps you and Michael should get some rest,” Alexander suggested. “We’ll start fresh in the morning.”

“Or evening. Celeste will be unavailable in the morning,” Damien answered.

Alexander chuckled. “Yes, but we can review other things.”

“I couldn’t sleep if I tried. Where is Celine and her special touch that puts people to sleep when you need her?” Damien jumped from the couch, pacing the room.

“I’m sure Millie can help you with that,” Alexander suggested.

“A nice sedative, the doctor’s favorite drug of choice,” Michael lamented. He did not have fond memories of Millie’s rounds of sedation as he recovered from his vampire bite, courtesy of Celeste.

“It’s a good idea. You need your rest,” Gray agreed.

Damien shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ll go attempt to rest. I won’t rest, but I don’t want to be drugged. I need to keep a clear mind. What time should we reconvene?”

“Whenever you both feel up to it. We’ll be here,” Alexander assured him.

“Shoot for 7 a.m.?” Damien suggested.

“That’s fine,” Alexander answered.

“Great, see you tomorrow morning,” Damien replied. Damien and Michael exited, leaving Alexander and Gray remaining in the sitting room.

“Poor Damien. This is a lot for a human to bear,” Alexander noted.

“Yes, the sedative will do him good.”

“Too bad he refused it.”

“Refused or not, he’s getting it,” Gray insisted. “They both are. I may need your help.”

“Bold move, Gray. Is it necessary?”

“If we don’t, he’ll worry himself sick. And if anything happens to him while Celine is gone, she’ll never forgive me. Come on, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

Gray set his glass down, striding from the room. He tracked down Millie, having her fill two syringes with a sedative.

Damien and Michael climbed the stairs and navigated the halls to their rooms. “I’ll see you in the morning,” Michael said before ducking into his room. “I hope you sleep.”

“You, too.”

Damien entered his room. He glanced around, sighing. Tears formed in his eyes. Before going to 1791 to retrieve Celine’s painting, he had spent several nights here with Celine. He recalled eating ice cream and discussing the mystery of her painful memories before falling asleep. She hadn’t been concerned, spending her time worrying about Michael’s recovery and her sister’s condition more than herself.

Celine’s painful memories: another mystery they hadn’t solved. When did it end? After centuries of being tormented by archenemy Duke Marcus Northcott, Celine had finally banished him to the netherworlds. With the torments from that evil man behind her, they had hoped to live a peaceful life. Instead, a variety of physical symptoms ranging from nausea to pain accompanied by memories shooting across her brain, plagued Celine. When hypnotized, Celine had admitted a presumption of danger caused these symptoms. They had never ascertained what the danger was because Damien and Michael were transported to 1791 to find Celine’s missing portrait.

With that problem solved, they had returned home to find that Celine’s problems had only worsened. Damien paced around his room. “Where are you, Celine?” he asked to an empty room.

He changed his clothes, slipping into pajama pants and a t-shirt. He continued pacing the floor barefoot. His mind reeled. The incredulousness of the situation weighed on him. A dozen questions rattled through his mind. Why had they insisted he rest? He’d never be able to!

A knock sounded on his door. He glanced at the door. Michael, he surmised. He must not be able to sleep either. A late-night planning session was just what they needed. Damien plodded to the door, pulling it open. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” he asked. “Oh, ah, sorry,” he said as Gray entered the room. “Thought you were Michael.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Gray replied. “Mind if I come in?”

“Well, you’re already in, so I guess not,” Damien answered.

“You’re supposed to be asleep,” Gray chided.

“I’ll be all right,” Damien replied.

“Let’s make sure of that,” Gray countered.

“Listen, Gray, I get that you want to do right by Celine but…” Damien began before Gray jabbed him with the needle. “Hey! What the hell? What are you… what’re you doing?” Damien slurred as the fast-acting sedative took effect.

“We’ll find Celine. Get some rest, Damien,” Gray answered, walking him to the bed. Gray let Damien fall onto the bed, covering him with a blanket. He turned off the lights and exited the bedroom. He repeated the same maneuver with Michael, leaving him to rest as well. With Michael and Damien asleep, Gray returned to his suite for a long night of pacing.

Celine stared out of the small window into the night sky. The moon waned. Days had passed since Celine wandered into the mill’s cellar, becoming trapped by Marcus Northcott. Celeste requested a meeting with her, luring her to the mill’s basement. Celeste had not acted out of malice; she had been forced to do Marcus’ bidding. Her vampiric condition costing her freedom of choice in the matter.

Celine sighed. No amount of supernatural force on her part had freed her from her prison. Marcus’ enchantment of her cell held her fast,