Forever Mortal--A Shade of Mind--Book 2

by D. N. Leo

  Ciaran approached the glass cabinet of John Dee’s exhibit with caution. The thick air seemed to follow him. Ciaran spoke to no one in particular. “We haven’t the time nor inclination to play hide and seek. Show yourself, or we’ll leave.”

  In the air right in front of them, a white and blue beam flashed straight to the plate. The light bounced back from it, forming a cone shape in which text appeared. “Hello,” it said.

  “This is a very primitive model of the hologame technology,” Ciaran said.

  “Yes,” the text printed.

  “Can we talk elsewhere if all you need is a shiny plate to reflect your light on? What if people walk in and see?” Madeline asked.

  “Other people’s vision in the same space with you has been blocked. You are fine where you stand. The plate reflects the correct frequency,” the text read.

  “What do you want?” Ciaran asked.

  “We need to warn you that the LeBlancs are in danger.”

  “Who are you, and what sort of danger are we facing?” asked Ciaran.

  “We are your council and your guards when your position is active. At the moment, we can only alert you of possible danger. The danger is coming. It’s time . . .” The text flickered, faded away, flickered again, and then was totally gone.

  “What position?” Ciaran asked.

  “Damn it. That wasn’t very helpful,” Tadgh snarled at the air.

  Ciaran grunted in pain and held his ears. A drop of blood trickled from his nose. Madeline tried to hold him steady as he swayed. When Tadgh approached to help, Ciaran said, “Time me.” And then he fell to the floor, unconscious.

  Madeline shook his shoulders and got no response.

  “Tadgh!” she called out.

  Tadgh stood frozen. He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking as if he was somewhere else. Madeline shook Ciaran’s shoulders again. “Come on, you’re scaring me.” Then she looked up as Stefan walked into the room with Jo at his side. He had his arm around Jo’s waist. Madeline knew that underneath Jo’s jacket, Stefan was holding a weapon to her.

  “Tadgh!” she called out, but the only difference between he and Ciaran was that Ciaran was on the floor and Tadgh still stood, looking like a statue. The text had said that other people couldn’t see them. That was the hope Madeline held on to.

  Stefan glanced around the room. Jo did the same.

  “Nobody’s here. Let’s go,” Jo said.

  Madeline caught an unusual sign in Jo’s eyes. Jo saw something, Madeline thought.

  “Be quiet. If you can decode my sister’s disk, I don’t need Ciaran. I shot at him before, so I can’t just come back and ask him nicely. But you can use your charm to get what we need,” Stefan told Jo.

  On the floor, Ciaran stirred and opened his eyes. Tadgh immediately switched back to reality. Madeline helped Ciaran sit up. “How long was I out?” he asked Tadgh.

  “Precisely thirty-three seconds.”

  She could see Tadgh wore no watch and had nothing with which to track the time.

  Ciaran saw Stefan and Jo now. So did Tadgh. Tadgh growled and turned to walk toward Stefan, his hand ready on his pocket. Ciaran grabbed at Tadgh.

  “Wait. I can’t fight yet. I don’t think they can see or hear us.” Ciaran stood up.

  Jo gazed straight in their direction.

  “Are you sure they can’t see or hear us?” Tadgh asked.

  “Jo has very good instincts. She might be able to feel us,” Madeline said.

  Stefan steered Jo in their direction, keeping his hand on her back.

  “He has a knife on her,” Ciaran said. Both Ciaran and Tadgh had their hands in their pockets. Ciaran moved Madeline behind him.

  “Are they going to bump into us?” Madeline asked.

  “I’m not sure what will happen,” Ciaran said.

  Jo gazed in their direction and stopped walking. “I need to go, Stefan.”

  Stefan stopped on his tracks. “Go where?”

  “The girl’s room. You can come with me if you like.”

  “Don’t fuck around with me, Jo. You stay right here. They’ll turn up sooner or later unless you gave them a hint over the phone.” Stefan glared at Jo.

  “Look, Stefan, I want to go home. I told you I can decode the disk for you. You don’t have to wait for them.”

  “What are they saying?” Tadgh asked.

  “Can’t you hear them?” Madeline asked.

  Tadgh shook his head.

  “Can you, Madeline?” Ciaran asked.

  Madeline nodded.

  “You tried for hours, and you’ve got nothing,” Stefan raised his voice.

  “If you knew a scrap of computer programming, you would know it takes an awful lot of time to decode a program at that level. I could have been faster if you’d put me in a habitable place. Not that dingy little hole in the wall you call a house. And if you’d pulled down those silly distracting bells on the veranda, stopped the flutes in the garden, and let me work in the actual house rather than a basement . . .”

  “Lower your voice or I’ll hurt you,” Stefan growled. Jo stiffened. Stefan must have pushed his knife harder into her back.

  “Coward,” Tadgh snarled and moved forward. Ciaran grabbed at him, pulling him back.

  “I can take him. I’m a good shot. I’ll blow his brains out before he even knows what hit him,” Tadgh said.

  “Do you know how long it takes to slit someone’s throat, Tadgh? One second. He’s closer to Jo than you are. You haven’t seen what Stefan is capable of. He blew a man’s head off without a thought.”

  Tadgh shoved Ciaran away from him.

  “As long as Jo behaves, he won’t hurt her,” Ciaran continued. “What did Jo just say, Madeline?”

  She repeated it to Ciaran. “She must sense someone is listening. She’s giving us the location of the house.”

  Ciaran nodded. “And I know exactly where it is.”

  Stefan seemed convinced that there was no point in waiting for Ciaran. He took Jo out of the room.

  The text flicked and appeared in front of them again. “Your enemies are attempting to obtain our frequency. If they can get to us, they can get to you. The disk contains the frequency.” A number appeared—a countdown from five seconds.

  Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

  Ciaran grabbed at Madeline and Tadgh, pulling them back toward the far end of the room. The air stretched, following them like a rubber band.

  Chapter 6

  If Madeline wasn’t mistaken, they were exceeding the speed limit on the highway. From behind the steering wheel, Ciaran gazed at the road ahead of him. He didn’t look as if he wanted to talk, but she asked anyway.

  “Did you expect an explosion from the five-second countdown at the museum?”

  “Better to be safe than sorry. We don’t know who Sciphil Two is yet,” Ciaran warned,

  “I still feel sorry for those visitors. We appeared in front of them out of nowhere. They must have gotten the fright of their lives,” Tadgh said.

  “I guess we would be sorrier if it had been an actual explosion.” Madeline smiled.

  Ciaran didn’t say anything further. Mind reading would be a handy talent to have right now, Madeline thought. She’d love to get inside his head and know what he was thinking about.

  “Where are we going?” she asked.

  “Mortlake. Mrs. Hanson’s house. You’ve been there,” Ciaran said.

  “I don’t care where we’re going as long as I arrive with all of my organs intact,” Tadgh blurted from the back seat. Madeline turned around and saw beads of sweat running down his forehead.

  “Have I ever gotten you into a car accident, Tadgh?” Ciaran asked.

  “I don’t want you to break your record, Ciaran. Slow down, will you?”

  “Madeline isn’t complaining. Neither should you.”

  “How can you be so sure Jo was talking about Mrs. Hanson’s house?” she asked.

  “I spent a lot of time in the part of the house she d
escribed. The bells, the flutes, the basement underneath the kitchen. It has to be her place.”

  “Ciaran studied flowers there for years,” Tadgh added.

  “It was natural medicine, not flowers. And I consulted with her. I didn’t study anything with her,” Ciaran snarled. His voice and his eyes were disturbingly cold. He reached over, touched Madeline’s hand. He felt her brace herself, and he slammed on the brakes then stomped on the accelerator. The movements threw Tadgh sideways and back.

  “Hey! I know you’re a tough guy, you don’t have to prove it. If you’re mad about the number thirty-three, it isn’t my fault. You asked me to time you!” Tadgh yelled.

  “You know nothing about it, Tadgh. Let it be.”

  “I don’t know much. But I can always ask Mother. I’m sure she knows. Just like the way she knows how to unlock Mon Ciel’s shield that you think is invincible.”

  “Leave her out of this.”

  “The hell I will. Sciphil Two, whoever that was, said our family is in trouble. You don’t have the right to speak for all of us, Ciaran. Not only I am talking to Mother, I’m going to talk to everyone in the family.”

  Ciaran swung the car over to the emergency shoulder of the highway and stopped. “Get out,” he said.

  “You don’t get to kick everyone out of your life at your leisure, Ciaran.”

  “It’s my car that I’m kicking you out of. Get out before I cause you bodily damage.”

  Madeline turned around and looked at Tadgh, while Ciaran stared at him from the reflective mirror. Tadgh put on a stern face and sat unmoving.

  Ciaran slammed the heel of one hand on the steering wheel and got out of the car. He strode along the shoulder of highway. Madeline got out and went after him.

  “Ciaran, talk to me, please. What’s happening?”

  “You don’t have to worry about this. I don’t want you to get tangled up in my mess.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a choice. I know you and your family have a lot going on, but I brought Stefan into your home, and it seemed to stir up a lot of dust from the past. But I have my friend to save, and whether I like it or not, I’m a part of this mess now.”

  Ciaran looked away. She grabbed him and spun him around to face her. “Please. Tell me.”

  “I just recalled now—the air bender said the thirty-three year cycle would come. He said I broke his family, and he will break mine.”

  “How did you remember it just now but not before? Are you sure the memories are there, or did one of those talented mind benders you told me about put them in your head?”

  He looked at her in surprise. “You’re very good Madeline. Not everyone catches on to the idea so easily.”

  “It comes with the job. I’ve seen enough weird things.” She touched his face gently, the face God had created when he was in a very good mood. “If you feel anything, just tell me. A man is allowed to have emotions, Ciaran. You can be out there, saving the world, being a crusader, changing people’s lives. But once in a while, when you just need to talk, I’ll listen.”

  He nodded. “The information must be in my subconscious. He said that after I’d passed out. I didn’t remember it before because the triggers weren’t strong enough, and I don’t think I wanted to remember.” He held her hands. “I still don’t know how the thirty-three year cycle resonates with my family’s affairs. But the man came back because he thought I had killed Juliette, and that Juliette was the cause of all this, so I am responsible for what happens to my family.”

  “I have to agree with Tadgh on this point. You can’t take all the responsibility. And kicking everyone out of your life isn’t a very good way to deal with it.”

  “My family is vulnerable now. I don’t know what will come for us or how to deal with it.” Ciaran turned to look at Tadgh, who was stepping out of the car.

  “But as you said, I’m in this with you. Whatever it is, you won’t deal with it alone—like it or not.” She smiled at him.

  He tilted her face up, rubbing his thumb over the dimple on her left cheek. “When you said you’d take care of me, you meant it!”

  “I’m in it for the long haul.”

  “And you’ll let me do the same for you?”

  She nodded.

  “You promise to tell me everything? I’ve told you everything I know. But I don’t know anything about you, Madeline.”

  “Didn’t you say you have access to one of the most secretive and powerful databases on Earth?” She chucked.

  “The things I want to know are not in the database.”

  She tucked a strand of stray hair away, tiptoed, and kissed him.

  “Promise me?” he asked again.

  She smiled and nodded. Then he kissed her as if it was the first time they’d ever kissed. He hands gripped at the dip in her back and her neck, lifting her off the ground.

  “I don’t have all day. We have places to be!” Tadgh tapped the side of the car.

  Ciaran ended the kiss and chuckled. He walked back toward the car. “All right, you don’t have to hurt my car. We’re leaving.”

  As she began to walk toward the car, Madeline saw a handful of blue dots at the corner of her eyes. A chill shot up through her spine and numbed her brain. The dots weren’t hovering like they usually did, but they stayed fixed on the road, forming the number thirty-three. Some of them weren’t the usual haunting blue color but were instead a grainy blood red .

  “Go away. I have nothing to do with this,” she scolded. The dots stared back silently at her.

  “I have no idea what thirty-three means,” she said. She looked toward the car and saw Ciaran had climbed in behind the steering wheel.

  The dots flashed at her. Flashed. Flashed. Flashed. Then disappeared.

  She glared at the road where the dots had been one last time before turning on her heel and heading back to the car. Suddenly a pain stabbed at her heart as an old emotional wound just broke open and started bleeding.

  She might know what thirty-three meant. She hoped she was wrong. But if not, she might have to let go of the relationship she had just found with Ciaran.

  Chapter 7

  Just before dusk, Ciaran, Madeline, and Tadgh arrived at Mrs Hanson’s house. Ciaran parked a block away. As they approached the house, they could see Stefan driving away with Jo in the passenger seat.

  “We missed them again,” Madeline muttered.

  “They might come back,” Ciaran said. “We should take the opportunity to see what he’s got set up inside.”

  They neared the front of the house. The police had sealed the place up after clearing away Mrs. Hanson’s body.

  “How on Earth did he get in here with the police seal intact?” Tadgh asked, looking at the front door.

  “He’s a cop himself. Don’t you think he could figure that out?” Madeline asked somewhat sarcastically.

  Ciaran said nothing but moved directly to the back of the house. The back door wasn’t sealed but locked by an old padlock on a rusty handle. Tadgh chuckled. “Apparently, the cops didn’t think this was a major crime scene.” Tadgh pulled out his pocket knife to work on the lock.

  “No need to do that,” Ciaran said and walked toward the side of the house. He opened a small window, gestured for Tadgh and Madeline to stay back and hopped inside.

  Moving to the living room, Ciaran scanned the area. Everything looked the same. He had spent a considerable amount of time here with Juliette. It was all too familiar, and he didn’t care for it.

  What had happened in the last couple of weeks had turned an old emotional scar into an open wound—fresh, raw, and bleeding. The wound had never really healed, and it now needed his attention.

  He came back to the window and reached out a hand to help Madeline in. “No one else is here,” Ciaran said. “Stefan wouldn’t rig this place or lay traps. He only needed a place to stay, and the cops would be all over him.”

  “How do the police know?” Madeline asked.

  “I asked Lind
say to give the police an anonymous tip,” Ciaran answered as he moved to the kitchen that could barely accommodate three people.

  The flutes hanging from the trees in the garden and the bells dangling on the veranda composed strange melodies, and the haunting sounds poured into the room from the window.

  Ciaran approached a small cabinet that looked as if it would crumble into pieces if he opened its door too quickly. Inside were rows of ceramic cups and plates and a teapot. He grabbed the teapot handle and turned slightly. The dining table slid aside to reveal a rickety wooden staircase that led to the basement.

  Tadgh grabbed Ciaran and Madeline, pulling them backward. “If someone’s hiding down there, we’ll be shot in places we won’t much care for.”

  “You’re not going down there, Tadgh. I am. You stay here and keep watch in case Stefan comes back.”

  “You always get to do the fun bit,” Tadgh muttered and sat down on a chair at the kitchen table.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Ciaran said as he started to descend a small set of stairs. Madeline followed.

  The basement was spacious. It looked like the entire house was built on top of it. It wasn’t a lab—there were no vials, jars, or chemical compounds of any kind. The room was almost empty with a large rectangular table in one corner and projector-like equipment hanging from all four corners.

  There were shiny panels that looked like black mirrors lining the walls, angled in no particular logical order. Some of the panels were shattered, and an apparently damaged projector dangled from the ceiling.

  “This is a holocast room, a primitive model,” Ciaran said. “Stefan must have taken the control center with him. Without it, I can’t make any sense of the setup here. Especially, this . . .” Ciaran pointed toward a round reflective plate sitting in a corner. “I don’t know what that does.”

  “It looks like John Dee’s glass, the one we saw at the museum,” Madeline commented. She looked at the round plate but didn’t touch it. There were no cords or electrical connections of any kind attached to the object. “Could it simply be an artifact? A symbol, or some kind of worship thing?” Madeline suggested.

  “It’s a communication center. One that gathers channels, frequency and connections of different dimensions. But what we have here is too primitive to do anything like that.”