Forgotten: A Supernatural Thriller (Legend Hunters Book 2)

by JL Terra

  “Because it is.”

  Why had the Druid picked her? Maybe she didn’t know any more than he did. Had it been simply because she was the agent assigned to the case? If that was so, it meant the disappearances of the children she had been investigating had something directly to do with the Druid.

  Daire had seen people disappear many times before, but they had always shown up later as acolytes. Only a few were left for dead. The acolytes were people he had twisted to his cause in such a way that they would fight and die for him. Or they would sacrifice themselves in other ways. The idea he was doing that with children turned Daire’s stomach.

  The cases Bryn had been investigating could hold some clues as to what the Druid’s endgame might be, apart from collecting all of the books. But what did the books have to do with a group of kids? Daire couldn’t see how they would factor in—which meant there were whole angles of this game that he couldn’t even see.

  “Do you hear that?” Bryn had turned toward the hall, the direction they were supposed to be moving but couldn’t.

  “What are you talking—”

  “Shhh.” Bryn put a finger to her lips, the way one might attempt to quiet a child.

  Daire listened. There was something about Bryn that tugged at him. Both in the same way he wanted to look after Amelia, and in other ways he wasn’t ready to think about. Probably he was just sympathizing with someone who clearly needed help. It wasn’t like he’d never had to fight off an attraction before. Likely he would have to do it again before the end of his life. All he had to do was think about a funeral held for a woman who had been through far more trauma than she deserved. Or that same service, years from now.

  Even if Bryn lived to be a ninety-year-old woman, he would still appear to be barely in his forties.

  He pushed away those morose thoughts. “I think I can hear something.”

  What it was hadn’t even registered. Daire headed for the room again, still listening. Allowing his brain to process the different tones he was hearing. To separate the muffled yelling with the howl of an animal. Dauntless. “It’s the guys.”

  Bryn said, “We’re still not making any progress toward them. Are we going to be running down this hallway until the end of time?”

  “I hope not.” Daire hated these games about as much as Bryn seemed to.

  Were Shadrach, Ben, and Malachi—along with dauntless—locked in a room? Trapped in the same way they were in the hall. Unable to get out. Maybe they were locked in a different kind of waking dream.

  “Where is Remy?” He didn’t hear a woman’s voice.

  Bryn shook her head, the edge of fear still there in her eyes. Both of them knew what it felt like to be alone and at the Druid’s mercy. Daire didn’t want that for Remy. Not now, and not ever. Not after what she had suffered at the hands of another evil man.

  Daire tried another door, closer to them. Then he kicked at the wall beside it.

  Drywall gave way, and with a few kicks, he managed to get a decent hole in the wall. This room was between the conference room and where the other men had been.

  Bryn looked in. “Is that the bathroom?”

  “Yep.” He grabbed the drywall with two hands and pulled it away from the wall, tossing it on the floor. Sheetrock, insulation. Wires.

  Bryn helped. Together they made a hole big enough to get his head through. Daire looked inside.

  “Remy!”

  She was huddled on the floor at the far end. Knees to her chest, head down on her arms. Shaking much the way Bryn had been only a few minutes ago. Dread filled him.

  “Remy!”

  She lifted her head, her red hair falling around her face.

  “Her eyes.”

  Daire nodded. There was no color in her eyes, nothing but white. What on earth? The Druid had gotten into her mind as well. The reach of his power wasn’t something Daire cared to think about too much, but he knew better than to underestimate his opponent. Dead. And with this much power still? It had to be the first book giving him this ability.

  “She can’t see us. But she can hear us.” He sucked in a breath and called out to her, as loud as he could. “Remy, it’s Daire. I’m with Bryn. Everything’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you out of there!”

  Remy shuddered, looking around as though she couldn’t tell where his voice was coming from.

  “We’re coming, okay?”

  Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. A second later her whole body bucked, and a tear rolled down her face.

  “We have to get to her.”

  Together they made a hole large enough he could get his shoulders through.

  “Let me.” Bryn pushed him out of the way and grasped the sides of the hole.

  At the same second, a gust of wind rushed down the hallway toward them. Daire didn’t have time to push her into the bathroom so she could be with Remy. All he could do was grab her as they were thrown down the hallway together. He wound his arms around her and they rolled across the floor, spinning too fast.

  He saw the door—where the guys were—come and go in a blur. Like it’d be no big deal for them to reach it now. And they’d spent how long trying to get there?

  Having passed it, they continued careening down the hall. Along the floor. The friction from the carpet bit into the hip of his jeans and burned the skin beneath. Only the leather jacket he’d retrieved from Remy, his usual one still in England after being shredded, gave him any protection.

  Daire wrapped his legs around Bryn’s and tried to keep her from touching the floor. “Hold onto me,” he called out, his voice breathy.

  Together they hit the wall at the end of the hallway. Bryn cried out. Daire’s teeth snapped together painfully, but he didn’t let go of his charge. This time there was no way he was going to let the Druid hurt Bryn. She’d already been through enough.

  If he couldn’t even keep her safe, how was he going to help the rest of them? When faced with the Druid, Daire felt like an ant about to get squashed by a boot. Every other time they had gone up against each other, he’d barely escaped.

  The day he had finally fought the Druid to his death, Daire left that encounter bleeding badly. He’d woken up three weeks later in a hut on the Chinese mountainside being cared for by a prickly old man.

  He never wanted to put his friends into this position. He’d only joined this team because he thought the Druid was dead. Now he knew otherwise. Maybe it was time to walk away.

  And yet, was that really what Bryn needed?

  She shifted against his chest. He winced at the feel of the book tucked in his jacket. Daire tried to get the corner to stop digging into his ribs. He shifted too far, and it fell to the floor with a dull thud.

  He handed it to her. “Hold this.” She could look after it, and he could fight whatever was coming.

  Wind continued to batter them. Until their backs were against the wall and they could barely move. Pinned against an exit door that wouldn’t open.

  Bryn reached toward him with her free hand. The wind smacked against her palm and her knuckles hit the wall. She cried out. “Daire.”

  He tried to nod but settled for looking at her in a way she wouldn’t be able to misunderstand. He was going to face this fight.

  But all that came at them was wind.

  The Druid was again messing with their perception of reality. “He has us where he wants us. So why is he not coming?”

  “Is it because we aren’t what he wants?” Tears welled in Bryn’s eyes.

  Was this nothing but more distraction? That made no sense. The second book was right here.

  “You can’t contact Amelia, can you?” She knew he couldn’t. And he was supposed to just sit here?

  Daire sucked in a full breath and yelled at the top of his voice. “I’m right here. So why don’t you come?”

  A chuckle drifted on the wind.

  Bryn moaned, low in her throat. “Please, no.”

  He looked at her. The color had been stripped from h
er eyes, replaced completely with a white iris and pupil. Same as Remy. It was one of the scariest things he’d ever seen. Daire pushed aside the sensation and moved as close to her as he could, even as the wind continued to buffet them. “Listen to me, Bryn. He isn’t here. I am.”

  She moaned his name.

  “I know. Right now it’s you and me, Bryn.”

  Daire heard the first crack from the far end of the hallway. He grasped for Bryn but couldn’t reach her.

  The material of her long sleeve slipped from his grasp.

  The cracking sound grew louder, and he turned to watch the hallway floor splinter down the middle. It snaked toward them, a jagged line coming faster and faster.

  He tried to reach for her again. She held the book to her chest, hugging it. But she couldn’t see what was coming.

  “Bryn.”

  Her gaze shifted, unseeing. As though she couldn’t hear him either.

  “The floor.”

  The crack split between them. Daire tried to jump toward her but only hit the wall as yet even more wind pinned him fast. This was nothing but another twist in his perception, right?

  “Bryn!” He yelled as loud as he could to her while he pleaded with Providence to get them out of this. “Bryn!”

  Why wasn’t it working?

  She couldn’t hear him.

  The floor broke apart, and the half of the building where she stood fell away from him, leaving Daire standing on the edge of the precipice.

  Watching Bryn fall with the collapse of the building. Screaming.

  Falling.

  To her death.

  Chapter 19

  Norfolk, England. 812AD

  Damien pulled the sword from the blacksmith’s cooling rack. The sharp prick of a knifepoint jabbed against his neck.

  “You’ll be dropping that now.”

  Her voice broke against him like a wave crashing. He had to grit his teeth. “It’s my sword.”

  “Says you.”

  She knew very well…

  He turned. Saw that gleam in her eye.

  “Adelyn.” His voice was a growl. Thank Providence it had finally broken.

  She grinned. Damien wound one arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Her blue skirt wrapped around one of his legs. He spoke with his mouth as close to hers as he could without their lips actually touching. “Well you know, that sword is mine.”

  “Aye, but what I didn’t know is that you’re more interested in it than anything else.” Her eyebrows rose and she slid her arms up his muscled shoulders. Shoulders thick from swinging a scythe. “Or anyone else.”

  His kiss intended to disavow her of any notion she might’ve had otherwise.

  Adelyn pushed him away. “The nerve of you.”

  Damien grinned. He stepped back and gave her a short bow. “My lady.”

  She giggled. Her hair, gold as the morning sun, had dulled from a day of work. Her hands were soot stained. Her face flushed from exertion. He had never seen anyone so beautiful.

  He held out his hand.

  Outside the blacksmith’s hut, a scream rang out.

  Adelyn gasped. “The Vikings! They’ve come raiding again!”

  Damien pulled his sword out. He swiped it through the air a few times, testing the weight of the new tang her father had hammered for him.

  Adelyn rushed to his side and grasped his bicep. “What shall we do? There is nowhere to go. Father took the horses to the city.”

  “Stay here.” He turned and took hold of her shoulders. “Hide. Do not let them find you.”

  “You cannot think to fight them.” She shook her head. “Tis impossible.”

  “I have to try.”

  “Damien—”

  “Hide, Adelyn. Please.”

  She drew a sword of her own. “I’m coming with you.”

  He saw the determined look on her face. The same look she’d given her father when they’d gone to him to ask if they could be married.

  Damien sighed. “Very well.”

  They ran from the hut and skirted the edge of the dwellings that made up the center of town. Horses screamed. Then he smelled it.

  “Fire.”

  Damien nodded to her and raced for his farm. Land supposedly inherited from his father. Little did anyone in this century know that his father had lived nearly a thousand years ago. So long Damien didn’t even recall his face anymore.

  They came in from the north, skirting the tree line. The house was still. Then he saw the men.

  “Get down,” he whispered.

  They both dropped to hide behind the cover of bushes and trees.

  His hay was alight. The flames licked high into one of those rare summer blue sky days. The heat was scorching. The air itself was thick enough he felt he could cut it with his knife.

  “How many?” she whispered back.

  “Two.” Vikings. Come to raid their lands. Take their gold.

  At least, he hoped.

  One went inside.

  Damien watched, beseeching Providence that his plan might work. “Stay here.”

  Then he began to crawl through the wheat field on his belly. Close enough to his house that he could see. The Viking outside got bored and went inside after his friend.

  “Johanneson,” the man called out.

  Son of Johan.

  “There’s nothing here,” he told his friend.

  “Except this!” The first man appeared, carrying the box. Damien’s heart jumped in his chest. For a second he had to remember how to breathe. This was it.

  What he wanted.

  The second man followed. They both stared at the box, inlaid with gold. Inside, gold coins.

  “Keep the gold, and sell the box?” his friend asked.

  The first man shook his head. “I’m going to give Helena the box as a wedding gift.”

  And in the false bottom of the box, was a book.

  Adelyn screamed. Damien flung himself to his back and saw a third Viking, his sword pointed at Adelyn’s throat.

  She looked right at him. Mouthed, No.

  Damien’s stomach roiled. He gripped the sword by his side. The only thing he’d kept all these years. The hilt had been replaced. The tang overlaid so many times it didn’t bear any resemblance to the blade he’d handed the Centurion so many years ago.

  “Found me some gold of my own, didn’t I?” The man chuckled, moving Adelyn forward along with him. Toward his friends.

  He would walk right by Damien.

  The two friends chuckled. One was more like a groan. “You have enough slaves.”

  “I’ve decided one more would be nice.” He reached back and squeezed Adelyn’s rear. She squealed. “Very nice.”

  Damien held his position until the man was close enough. Then he launched himself from the ground and ran his sword through the man’s belly.

  “Run!”

  Adelyn didn’t hesitate. Before the man even hit the ground she’d set off across the field.

  He turned and faced the other two. “I don’t want to fight you.”

  Johanneson held his box.

  Damien said, “You’ve more than recouped the loss of your man with that.” He motioned to the box.

  “Big word for a little mite like you,” the first man said.

  Johanneson said, “He’s right. Now we only have to split the gold two ways instead of three.”

  The first man launched himself forward anyway. Damien turned and ran after Adelyn, to the sound of the man’s laughter.

  Nearly eight hundred years of life and the man had scared him into running? Damien rolled his eyes. He would see this man again.

  When he came to check on the book.

  Chapter 20

  Chicago. Present Day.

  Daire’s cheek pressed against the carpet. He lifted his head and felt the tingle in his skin from being smashed against tightly woven threads.

  “What…”

  It was like waking from a bad dream.

  The hall. The bo
ok.

  Bryn.

  He sat up too fast and had to lean his back against the wall to support himself. His head spun as fast as his equilibrium while he fought to make sense of what had just happened. He’d seen Bryn fall to her death, clutching the book.

  Now the hallway was as intact as though it hadn’t happened. Like he’d imagined the entire thing.

  So where was Bryn?

  Daire tried to stand but wound up back on the hallway floor. His stomach turned, rebelling against what had happened. He was supposed to have found answers by bringing Bryn here. Now he had nothing. He’d lost her, and he’d lost the book.

  A thud brought his attention around. The door to his right splintered open and Shadrach landed on the floor on top of the shards. Dauntless trotted into the room, followed by Malachi and Ben.

  His boss strode over, clasped Daire’s hand and lifted him to his feet. Daire’s whole body swayed as he fought the nausea of being upright. He set his hand on the wall. “Whoa.”

  Ben’s palm landed on his shoulder. “You okay?”

  Daire nodded, not convinced he could speak more than that without hurling. “Remy.”

  “What about her?” Shadrach looked sick.

  The guys had been trapped in that room along with the dog. Remy had been locked in the bathroom, lost in her own internal nightmare.

  One hand on the wall to steady himself, Daire made his way down the hall as fast as he could. He and Bryn had busted a hole to gain access to where Remy had been trapped.

  The door was still locked, but now the wall beside it looked as though nothing he remembered had taken place. Daire knocked. “Remy?”

  Shadrach shoved him aside and kicked the door beside the lock. It swung back on its hinges and hit the door stopper. Daire followed him inside, and they found Remy curled up on the floor. Shadrach knelt and touched her face. “Remy?” He patted her cheek.

  She blinked and shifted on the floor as though she had been in a deep sleep.

  “Let’s take her to the conference room,” Ben said from the bathroom doorway.

  Shadrach lifted her into his arms and strode out. Daire stood in the bathroom while his brain spun.

  “Talk to me,” Ben said. “What just happened, and where is Bryn?”