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

When they arrived home, Damien attempted to apologize again. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I just…” His voice trailed off as he searched for more words.

“She’s never behaved like this before,” Michael continued. “Every other time, we’ve just been honest with her and she’s understood and helped us.”

“Yeah,” Damien added, picking up on Michael’s assessment. “To the point of telling her we were from the future. She just accepted it and jumped right in to help us. I never expected her to behave this way.”

Alexander did not respond right away. “It is finished. I hope to salvage the situation… somehow. Please, next time, discuss these things before you accost the Duchess.”

Michael and Damien nodded then excused themselves, unable to make any further amends with Alexander and Gray. Neither of them could sleep, instead commiserating in Damien’s room.

“Well, we really messed this up,” Michael remarked as he entered Damien’s room in his nightclothes, borrowed from Alexander.

“In more than one way,” Damien agreed.

“How could this happen? Did that one electric arc really screw up history this bad?”

Damien rubbed his face. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Perhaps the blue arc was some fluke, and we aren’t meant to change anything. Maybe we’re just stuck here.”

“No, nope. Not going to accept that.”

“We may have no choice.”

“I am NOT living in an era without bathrooms. We have to get back home!”

“Don’t worry, we may not live long here.”

“Why?”

“Celine hates us. She’s probably telling the Duke everything we said about him right now. And then he’ll kill us.”

“What a mess,” Michael groaned, defeated. He sunk into the armchair in Damien’s room.

“I feel really bad about Alexander. The Duke thinks we’re cousins. He’ll destroy Alexander and Gray right along with us.”

“Yeah, we really didn’t think this one through at all,” Michael admitted.

“It was my fault,” Damien answered. “I couldn’t just do nothing and wait and see how things played out. I never imagined she’d be so… loyal to that creep.”

“I guess she’s had years of practice. It’s been over twenty years since that night.”

“Damn, what a fool I was,” Damien lamented.

“Don’t beat yourself up. I didn’t stop you. I considered it a good idea, too.”

They sat in silence for twenty minutes before Michael suggested they try to sleep. Damien agreed, although he was sure he wouldn’t manage to sleep. They would reconvene in the morning to attempt to salvage the situation.

Celine glanced out of the window as she pulled away from the Blackburn manor. The conversation she experienced within the walls replayed in her mind. It troubled her. It was, of course, nonsense, she assured herself. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to block her musings.

She found herself unable to stop dwelling on the subject. The younger Mr. Carlyle’s face burned through her memory. His eyes were so honest. His impassioned speech seemed candid. Did he honestly believe what he said?

Celine replayed the events of her sixteenth birthday in her mind. She recalled as though it were yesterday her father’s body flung in front of her, cold and stiff. Tears formed in her eyes. She held them back. She recalled Marcus pulling her away from her father’s body and wiping her tears. She recalled his promise. He pledged to protect her, provide for her, become her family. He vowed to give her anything her heart desired. She refused to give in at first. Only after hours had she weakened.

Distraught and alone, she trusted him and allowed him to guide her hand in stabbing her father’s murderer. Celine gasped as thick red blood poured from his chest. Marcus assured her the wound was not fatal, but Celine swore the man breathed his last, raspy breath. After a few moments spent with the body, Marcus stood, extending his hand toward the dead man.

To Celine’s surprise, the man rose, appearing healed. She advocated he be turned over to the authorities, but Marcus disagreed, telling her the man may prove useful to them. “You must trust me, Celine,” he said. “From this day forward, you must trust me. You are mine eternally.” Celine agreed with his decision, assuming him to be much more experienced in these matters.

The memory faded from Celine’s mind. She considered the information provided by the Carlyles. Was Marcus responsible for the entire scenario? Had he orchestrated her father’s death to trap her into marriage? Damien’s first words echoed in her mind. “We were there, we were supposed to be there. We were supposed to help you.” What did they mean?

The carriage pulled to a stop outside her home. She waited for the footman to assist her into the house. Her maid readied her for bed before retiring herself. Celine stared in the mirror, unable to dismiss the conversation with the Carlyles.

As she brushed her hair, a knock sounded at her door. “Come in,” she voiced.

Marcus entered her room. “Still awake?” he inquired.

“I was about to retire.”

“My apologies for departing early from the party. Something came up that required my immediate attention.”

“There is no need for an apology, husband,” Celine responded.

“All the same, I prefer to voice it. I trust there were no further… incidents with the Buckleys or their cousins, the Carlyles?”

“No,” Celine lied. “I departed without speaking to them.”

“I am glad they did not trouble you further, my dear.”

“’Tis no trouble,” Celine answered.

“I’m not sure your toes would agree,” Marcus replied. “Well, doubtless, you are tired. I shall leave you to sleep.” He kissed her forehead and departed from the room.

“Good night,” she replied as he left.

Celine climbed into bed, relaxing back into the pillows behind her. She hadn’t told her husband about her strange encounter with the Carlyles. Why, she wondered? The question plagued her until she drifted off to sleep.

Present day, Bucksville

Celine raced down the hall, bursting into the dining room. “Something is happening, please come,” she said to Millie.

Millie leapt from her seat, following Celine upstairs to the bedrooms. The various monitoring equipment showed a variety of activity. Damien’s heart rate increased, along with his breathing. His blood