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

street. Not wanting to miss him, Damien hurried toward him, shouting, “Excuse me, sir? Sir?”

“Yes?” the man answered.

“Sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping you could help us. We’re trying to find a friend’s home. Perhaps you can help us. His name is Alexander Buckley. His home is on Canterbury Way, however, I’ve forgotten the address. Do you know it?”

“Ah, Buckley, yes. Alexander, did you say? Yes, Edgar and Abigail’s son, if I recall. Their home is number four,” he said, pointing down the street. “It’s near the end.”

“Number four, yes, that’s right! Thank you so much, sir.”

“Quite welcome, sir. I do hope you enjoy your visit to our country.”

“Thank you!” Damien answered as they both said their good nights to the kind gentleman, allowing him to enter his home.

“Number four Canterbury Way, here we come,” Michael said as the man disappeared from their earshot.

“I’m crossing my fingers Celine is here and we can get some perspective on what we’re doing here,” Damien said as they continued down the street.

“Yeah, me too,” Michael agreed as they approached the steps leading to the house. “Especially since we don’t have any letters of introduction. We’re going to need someone to vouch for us. Perhaps we should ask for Alexander. The guy we talked to seemed to know his name.”

“Good idea. That’s probably the safest bet.”

They climbed the steps, using the door knocker. Michael wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. A white-haired gentleman opened the door, inquiring if he could help them.

“Hello. Michael and Damien Carlyle to see Alexander Buckley,” Michael answered, using their usual ruse for time travel of being brothers.

“Please come in, I shall inform him you have arrived. Are you expected?”

“Ah,” Michael hesitated, as they entered the foyer “I am not sure if he received our correspondence. We did write.” He glanced to Damien, who gave him a slight nod, encouraging his ruse.

“If you’ll wait here, gentlemen,” the man said, signaling a sitting room to the left, “I shall inform Mr. Buckley.”

“Thank you,” Michael answered as they entered the sitting room.

They waited a few moments. Damien bounced his leg on the ground as he sat perched on the edge of the settee near the fireplace. “Is it hot in here or is it me?” Damien asked, pulling at his collar before the door opened.

Alexander appeared through the other side from where they had entered. Damien leapt to his feet. “Gentlemen,” Alexander greeted them, “how may I help you?”

Relief coursed through Damien. “Oh, Alexander, are we glad to see you,” he said, beaming at him. “We are in terrible trouble.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Alexander answered. “Although, I am not sure how I may be of help. I’m not quite sure why you’ve sought me out.”

“Well,” Damien began, “I remembered you telling me about the house in London. So, when we found ourselves here, we figured it was our best option. We don’t remember why we’re here or what we’re doing here, but maybe Celine can help us.”

“I told you about the house?” Alexander questioned, confusion entering his voice.

“Yes,” Damien confirmed. “Is Celine here?”

“Gentlemen, my apologies, but I am baffled by your request and your statements.”

Damien issued a confused look to Michael, who returned the expression. “Alexander, we’re as confused as you are. I’m sorry we don’t have more information to share. We’re at a loss here.”

Alexander continued to eye them with suspicion. “You stated I told you about the London house. Yet, I cannot understand how. Gentlemen, we’ve never met before.”

Damien’s jaw dropped. He furrowed his brow, glancing at Michael then back to Alexander. “Uh, you don’t remember us?”

“I do not, and I am quite good with faces. Perhaps you might remind me of when and where we met?” he suggested.

“Uh,” Damien murmured, collecting his thoughts. “1791,” Damien stated, “Bucksville, Maine. Uh, no, Massachusetts then. At your family’s estate. We were visiting Celine. She was calling herself Mina then.”

“Odd,” Alexander said, placing a finger on his chin in contemplation.

“What is?” Michael asked.

“I do not recall meeting you at my uncle’s estate. And who is the woman you are referring to? You’ve mentioned her several times now.”

“Celine,” Damien said, expecting a response and receiving none. “Grayson’s wife, Celine.”

Alexander’s face was a mask of confusion. “Grayson’s wife? As in my cousin, Grayson?”

“Yes!” Damien exclaimed.

“Impossible! My cousin, Grayson, is not married.”

“What?” Damien asked, incredulous. He stared at Michael, shock on his face. “No, no, no, no, no.” Damien murmured as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“Sorry,” Michael apologized, “my brother is flustered by your news. The last time we saw Celine, she was married to Gray. We were at the Buckley manor in Bucksville. What happened since then? I realize it’s been years, but I was under the impression that Celine and Gray remained together.”

Alexander’s confusion grew. He shook his head. “Mr. Carlyle, my cousin has never been married. Not to a woman named Celine or anyone else. I’m sorry, I’ve little idea what you two are talking about. I wish I could be of more assistance, but I cannot make heads or tails out of your story.”

Damien whipped around to face Alexander. “Do you know a woman named Celine Devereaux? She’s from Martinique. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pretty.”

Alexander studied him, then responded, “Yes, I am acquainted with a woman fitting that description. She no longer uses that name since her marriage.”

“Her marriage?” Damien questioned.

“To someone other than Gray?” Michael inquired further.

“Yes,” Alexander confirmed.

“Who is she married to?” Michael asked.

“Marcus Northcott,” Alexander answered.

Chapter 14

Damien’s jaw dropped at the bombshell admission. He stared at Michael, trying to make sense of it. “Oh, no. I need to sit down,” Damien said, plopping onto the couch.

“Are you all right? May I offer you a drink?” Alexander asked.

“Please,” Damien breathed.

Alexander poured and offered him a brandy, doing the same for Michael. “Gentlemen, there seems to be some miscommunication. You are either very confused or something very strange is happening. Perhaps you should begin again, leaving nothing out.”

Damien gulped his brandy, his