Stolen Portrait Stolen Soul: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 2)

by Nellie H. Steele

  “I know, D. But I don’t want you stressing out and working to the point of exhaustion. Take a breather, get some sleep. And please stop wandering around the property all hours of the night.”

  Damien nodded as they reached his bedroom door. “Yeah, I’m going to turn in now and try to get some sleep.” He took a step into his room. “I’m okay, I’m not working too hard.” Turning back, he said, “And don’t worry, I didn’t get too close to the cliffs. I was careful!”

  Celine laughed. “Good night, D. Love you.”

  “Good night, Celine. Love you, too.”

  Celine continued down the hall toward her suite. “What was wrong with him?” Gray asked as she entered.

  “Working too hard. When Damien works on a project, he throws himself into it entirely. I just worry about him taking on too much.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine.”

  “I don’t like him wandering around outside at night.”

  “I understand, but he is a grown man.”

  “Grown or not, he’ll always be my family and I’ll always want to protect him.”

  Gray smiled at her. “You are a wonderful woman, Celine Devereaux.”

  “You exaggerate,” she said, giving him a kiss, “but I don’t mind.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my eye on him, too.”

  “Thank you, Gray.”

  “Don’t worry, Celine. I always have your back.”

  Damien tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Questions still battered his brain, bouncing around, leading him down avenue after avenue in search of a solution. None came to him, nothing added up. It reminded him of his first experience in this house weeks ago. Nothing had added up then either. The most unbelievable solution ended up being correct. It left him with only one emotion: frustration.

  Annoyed, he rose from his bed, pacing the floor in the dark. Back and forth he wandered across the wooden floorboards, working through theory after theory. His bare feet padded across the floor in rhythm, trying to soothe his mind. An idea struck him, and he decided to check his notes in the library.

  He crept down the hallway, careful not to disturb any other household members. He slinked down the stairs and hurried to the library. After an hour of tracking down information in his notes, he nixed the idea from his head. He tossed his laptop back onto the desk in frustration, sighing. Sleep, perhaps that was what he needed to make sense of this puzzle. Perhaps now he could relax, having tested another theory his brain had created.

  He exited the library, plodding down the hall to the foyer. As he approached the large room, a door slammed. A figure moved in the darkened room toward the staircase. He recognized Michael. Damien recalled last witnessing him enter the abandoned house. Where had he been all this time? In that wreck of a house?

  Damien, from his dark corner, spied him lumbering up the staircase. He must be returning for the night. Damien waited until he had a good head start before proceeding to his own room. Damien wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation with Michael. He wanted to go to sleep without becoming unsettled by another mystery. He would need all his energy to tackle his work tomorrow.

  Chapter 6

  Celine strolled down the path from the main house to Alexander’s home on the estate. The morning air still had the night’s chill. Snow would fall soon, much earlier than it had in the last place she lived. The holidays would soon be upon them after that. Celine was still unsure how she would handle Josie’s parents. She had explained little to them thus far. Only noting that a job opportunity had taken her to Maine and while visiting, she and Damien had chosen to make the move permanent. Her mother suspected this had something to do with her birth family, but Celine had provided her no confirmation. Withholding information was not her style, but she was unsure how she would inform them of the events of the last few months. Perhaps this was what gave her the unsettled sensation she had been experiencing of late.

  The trees whispered overhead, blowing in the fall breeze. Leaves drifted from their perches high above to the ground below, floating down in a lazy waltz. She spotted Alexander’s house ahead. Shrugging her sweater tighter around her, she hurried toward the house.

  She knocked at the door and waited. Alexander, also an early riser, opened the door within minutes. “Good morning, Celine,” he said. “Come in! To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “Good morning,” she answered, stepping out of the chilly air and into the house. “Sorry for the early morning call, do you have a few minutes?”

  “For you, Celine, always. Although, you appear troubled. Let’s go into the sitting room. Would you like some tea?”

  Celine sighed, sinking into the loveseat. “Tea would be nice, thank you.” Alexander disappeared for a moment, retrieving another teacup and saucer to share his morning brew with Celine.

  “Now, what concern rousted you from your bed this early, Celine?”

  “Just a visit, I missed you.”

  “Hmm, while I appreciate the sentiment, I sense something more.”

  Celine frowned at him. “You know me too well.”

  “Well, we have been friends for centuries.” He chuckled.

  “It’s nothing major, just a feeling I can’t shake. Perhaps it’s because I haven’t decided what to do about Josie’s parents.”

  Alexander considered the statement. “That does present a rather tricky situation.”

  “Yes, it does. I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to tell the truth.”

  “When the time is right, I’m sure you’ll find the right words, Celine.” Celine offered him a slight smile in response. “As difficult of a situation as that is, I still don’t expect that’s what’s troubling you.”

  Celine stared into her tea for a moment before speaking. “Have you sensed anything… off?”

  “Off?” Alexander questioned.

  “Yes. My intuition tells me something isn’t right.”

  Alexander pondered for a moment. “Besides the recent attacks, which seem to have lessened, no. I haven’t sensed anything off.”

  “Hmm,” Celine said, pursing her lips.

  Alexander studied her for a moment. “Is it Celeste that worries you?”

  She shook her head. “No, no, it’s something else.”

  “Such as?”

  “I’m not sure. I can’t put my finger on it. There is nothing concrete. Just a gut reaction that something is… warning me. I can’t shake this sense of foreboding.”

  “Have you spoken with Gray about this? Does he sense anything?”

  “I haven’t mentioned anything in particular. You know Gray, he’s so focused on forgetting the past, he doesn’t want to dwell on anything unpleasant. I am loath to bring this up to him, I’m sure he’ll think I’m overreacting. And perhaps I am.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “This is the part where you tell me I am overreacting and it’s nothing. Only a reaction to centuries of being tortured by a madman.”

  Alexander laughed. “Oh, my apologies, I forgot my lines.” He winked at her.

  She glanced to him in anticipation. “Well?” she prodded.

  He sighed, turning serious. “Unfortunately I can’t tell you what you want to hear, Celine. I’ve learned over the centuries to trust your instincts. Something very well may be wrong.”

  Celine sunk her head into her hands. “Ugh, wrong answer.”

  “Again, my apologies, but I’m not sure there is a correct answer.”

  A moment of silence hung in the air between them. Alexander broke the silence. “Is there anything specific you can pinpoint about this feeling? Anything specific?”

  Celine contemplated his question. “No, just that uneasy sense of foreboding.”

  “You’ve sensed this before?”

  “Yes. It usually had to do with Marcus. I’d grown so accustomed to associating this sensation with him I’m not sure if I can’t separate the two or if it has something to do with him.”

  Alexander rose, approaching Celine. He put
his arms around her shoulders as he sat down. “I don’t doubt your senses and I’m not discounting them either, but, Celine, he is gone. You must trust that.”

  Celine patted his hand on her shoulder, nodding her head. “I do. But I can’t rid myself of this sensation, nor ignore it.”

  “It is unwise if you ignore something like this, I agree. But perhaps the perception stems from something else?” he questioned.

  “Yes, it must. You’re right. It’s likely that when I’ve experienced this before it’s so often been related to Marcus Northcott that I cannot distinguish the true source.”

  “I’m happy to help if you come across any clues.”

  “Thanks, Alex.” She sat for another moment with him before saying, “Well, I’m going to head back to the house. I’m sure Gray is wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

  She rose from the couch, Alexander stood with her. “Feeling more settled?”

  “Yes,” she assured him, despite being unsure herself. She offered a smile to further convince him.

  “If you need anything, Celine, it goes without saying I’m always here for you. I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “Thanks,” Celine said, threading her arm through his as they walked toward the foyer. “By the way, how did your meeting with Damien go?”

  “Quite well. Oh, I hope the prank I played on him didn’t upset him too much.”

  “Prank?” Celine asked. “Really?”

  “Yes, he didn’t mention it? I told him I was psychic, could read minds.”

  Celine laughed. “Oh, poor Damien. I bet he believed you.”

  “He did! I felt terrible afterward. I’m glad the prank didn’t upset him.”

  “Me, too. He’s a good sport though. How is he handling things? Does he seem okay based on the conversation you had?”

  “He seems to be doing reasonably well. He was very curious, although he dances around his principal objectives quite a bit. Perhaps because he is still acclimating to the situation.”

  “He does that when he’s nervous. He also throws himself into his work. He spent the day locked in the library yesterday. He’s intent on solving the case of the missing painting, along with anything else he perceives is a problem.”

  “Are there others?”

  “No, not really. Michael is having a more difficult time adjusting to the new circumstances of his life. Damien’s taken it upon himself to make Michael’s adjustment easier. He’s a good friend. But I worry about Damien and his adjustment.”

  “That may be contributing to your sense of apprehension.”

  “Yes, it may be.”

  “Perhaps I can venture to the house for a second conversation with him. I rather like Damien, I hope we can become friends. Perhaps that will also ease his transition.”

  Celine smiled at him, squeezing his hand. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it if you did that. Damien needs a friend other than me. He and Gray haven’t warmed up to each other yet.”

  “It is my pleasure. He’s not fond of Gray?”

  “No. Damien’s intimidated by Gray. Too much residual tension from everything that occurred. He still views Gray as the antagonist of the story.”

  “I understand. Well, I shall visit him soon.”

  “Great, thank you, again.” Celine kissed him on the cheek before departing. She took the long route home, despite the chilly weather. When she arrived, Gray informed her Damien had already locked himself in the library for another day of work. “He’s like a mad scientist in there,” he quipped. “Where have you been?”

  “Visiting Alexander.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, just checking in.”

  “Everything all right?” Gray questioned, sensing there was more to the story.

  “I had a favor to ask him.”

  “Do tell.”

  “I wanted him to stop by and speak with Damien. I’m concerned about him and how he is dealing with everything. It would be nice if he had another friend here, someone he can talk to about everything.”

  “Poor Alexander. I could have talked to him.”

  Celine raised her eyebrows at him. “That is a disaster waiting to happen. He’s still not your biggest fan.”

  “Is that why he stares daggers at me from across the breakfast table?” Gray joked.

  “Funny. He’ll come around, but you’re not his favorite person. Perhaps I should go check on him.”

  “I wouldn’t. He told everyone he’d be working and didn’t want anyone disturbing him.”

  “Hmm, typical. Okay, I’ll leave him to it then. I’ll be in the office doing some work. See you later?”

  “Okay, I also have some work in town at the shipyard. See you later, darling.”

  Damien’s headphones blasted music. The little sleep he had received last night recharged him enough to continue his work. He spent the morning tracking down more information on his latest theory. He made excellent progress. This needed to be solved soon. Celine missed breakfast this morning. He could sense her upset. It must be due to the missing painting. Once they settled that issue, she could enjoy life. No more crazy dreams. No more double life. No more being chased by this evil creature. Just happiness.

  He smiled to himself. If his theory was correct, they’d soon have this wrapped up. There were only a few more angles to check before he presented his hypothesis to everyone else. He dug back into his research after downing the rest of his soda and a few more nacho cheese tortilla chips.

  After a few more hours he was satisfied with his theory. His conjecture was solid. All signs pointed to this being a valid supposition given all the information. He would present his theory to everyone before dinner. He slid his headphones off as thunder sounded overhead. The sound made him gulp. He hated this house during a storm, and this area had plenty of them. Tempted to pull the headphones back on, he nixed the idea in favor of seeking out Celine and the others.

  Exiting the library, he hurried down the hall as thunder crashed overhead again and lightening lit the space. As he entered the foyer, he caught sight of Celine descending the stairs. Gray entered from the sitting room.

  “Hey, I was just coming to find you two. Wow, I still think this house is creepy in a storm,” Damien said, making his way across the foyer.

  Michael joined them, shaking off his umbrella as he came through the door. “It’s pouring out there!” he exclaimed, removing his windbreaker and hanging it on the coat tree near the door.

  “Perfect timing, buddy,” Damien said, as he saw him.

  Michael gave him a strange look. “No, I don’t suppose so, perfect timing would have meant I missed the downpour.”

  “Oh, I meant I wanted to talk to everyone and everyone just happened to be here at the same time.”

  “What’s up?” Celine asked.

  “I wanted to discuss a theory I’ve been working on about the painting! Let’s go to the library.” He headed across the foyer and down the hall.

  Celine glanced to Gray, a slight smile on her lips. He was watching Damien cross the foyer and giving him a bizarre stare. Damien’s enthusiasm when he threw himself into a project could be overwhelming, Gray hadn’t gotten used to that yet. Michael followed behind them as they trailed Damien.

  They entered the library. It was apparent Damien had been working hard on the mystery. Books and papers littered the desk and floor. Two laptops sat open on the desk; various applications scattered across their screens. Discarded soda cans and bags of snacks lay scattered about.

  “Looks like a hurricane hit in here,” Gray said.

  Celine smirked at him. “So, what’s your theory, D?” she asked.

  “Well,” he began, “I had a few theories I’ve been researching. I mean, first, and most obvious, someone walked in here and just took the painting off the wall right before you noticed it was missing. Right? So who would do that? The Duke, right? Or one of his goons…”

  “Goons?” Gray questioned. Celine gave him a light tap on his chest and shook her head.
“What? Who calls them that?” he whispered to her.

  “But no one found the painting anywhere. And you’d think someone would have been able to find this painting because there’s only so many places he could have put it. The painting’s huge, right? You can’t stick it in a drawer or something. But no one found it. I mean, I get that he’s got some powers and stuff, but outside of the possibility that he diverted it to another dimension or something, it should be around…” Damien babbled.

  “What are you prattling on about?” Gray interrupted.

  Celine issued Gray a stern look.

  “Yeah, man, get to the point,” Michael added.

  “Oh, sorry,” Damien said.

  “Will you two let him talk?” Celine defended him.

  Damien smiled at her. “Thanks!” She nodded to him, encouraging him to continue. “Okay, long story short. I don’t think the Duke took the painting when everyone assumes it went missing.”

  “Oh, that makes perfect sense,” Gray answered. “Yes, he most likely took it before it went missing. Or did you suppose after?”

  “Ah, what?” Damien asked, his train of thought broken by the interjected comment.

  “Nothing, continue, D,” Celine said.

  “Right. I started speculating, the painting disappeared, but that doesn’t mean it disappeared just before everyone noticed it was missing. What if the painting disappeared before that? Long before that?”

  “What are you suggesting?” Celine asked.

  “What if the painting disappeared right after it was painted?”

  “But it didn’t, that painting hung in this house for centuries,” Gray answered.

  “Did it? Everyone ASSUMES it did. But suppose the Duke traveled back in time and stole it a long time ago?”

  “That’s impossible,” Gray concluded.

  “Why? We traveled through time.”

  “Gray’s right,” Celine confirmed. “You traveled through time, but I opened the portal. It wouldn’t be possible for me to open the portal and enter it.”

  “Perhaps he had someone else open the time portal so he could enter it?” Damien conjectured.