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

by D. N. Leo

  “You means this room can facilitate communication between extraterrestrial agents?”

  Ciaran nodded. “Very likely.”

  Madeline sneered. “I can’t imagine a ninety-year-old gypsy handling this technology.”

  “It’s not her, Madeline. We talked about this. What we met here wasn’t her.”

  “Right. You said they rewired her brain. It was a robot lookalike.”

  He couldn’t help but chuckle. Madeline always had a very interesting way of interpret things. Sometimes her interpretation was simple and basic, but most of the time, it was frighteningly relevant to the core of the matter. He wondered if it was the quality of a good journalist or simply her unique intuition.

  “You said on the bridge there were two groups of people—or robot lookalikes—fighting. One group was on your side, and the other was on Stefan’s. Before Stefan revealed his intention to get inside Mon Ciel, he was on my side. Mrs. Hanson wanted to kill me, so she couldn’t possibly be my friend. And now Stefan is using her house. So who are our friends and who are our foes here, Ciaran?”

  “Stefan may be on the side of the people who neurologically killed Mrs. Hanson—or rewired her brain, in your terms. That was why he knew this place. He may have manipulated Mrs. Hanson to send you to Fosse Way to intentionally put you in danger so that you would call for his help.”

  “But he got lucky, I got you in the process.”

  Ciaran smiled. “Yes, it was lucky that he was able to skip a couple of steps to get inside Mon Ciel. But even if he hadn’t, he would have found another way and put you in further danger.”

  She stared at him in a way that let Ciaran know she was about to ask an important question. “What’s in the crucifix, Ciaran? Why would Stefan kill to get it?”

  “A powerful spell that would cause an apocalypse.” Tadgh stuck his head down from the top of the stairs and grinned. “Okay, okay. I know that’s lame. But come on, if there’s nothing useful down there, we’d better leave.”

  Madeline raised an eyebrow, looking at Ciaran.

  “I’ll tell you about it later. Not about Tadgh’s flawed theory about the spell and the apocalypse, but about what I think Stefan is looking for in the crucifix. Let’s go,” Ciaran said and climbed back up the stairs. His head was pounding now. In the rush of the morning’s events, he had forgotten to take his painkillers. Now the bullets and stab wounds were punishing him for it.

  There was the sound of silenced guns shooting at the shelves in the kitchen, and cups and plate in the opened cabinet came crashing to the floor. Ciaran flew up from the basement.

  “Tadgh!” he called out.

  Chapter 8

  Ciaran saw Tadgh’s shadow chasing someone outside in the garden. He glanced at the damage the bullets had wreaked on the kitchen furniture. If Tadgh hadn’t been quick, the consequences could have been unimaginable.

  Madeline and Ciaran heard a crash from the shed where Mrs. Hanson had kept her botanical lab to make natural medicines. Ciaran pushed Madeline behind him as they approached and held his gun tightly. They approached the shed slowly. Ciaran pointed his gun at the lock on the door and fired. Ciaran pushed the door open little by little.

  All was quiet inside the shed. Ciaran pushed the door open a bit wider. A furry black shadow leaped through the gap and landed outside. Ciaran aimed, ready to shoot. In front of Ciaran and Madeline was an enormous black cat, nearly the size of a small leopard. The cat blinked its bright yellow eyes and darted at Ciaran.

  “Be careful!” Madeline squealed.

  “Don’t worry. This is Migi. She’s very gentle.”

  Migi meowed and waved her tail contentedly as she rubbed against Ciaran’s legs.

  “Oh my God, there are two tails,” Madeline gasped.

  Ciaran chuckled. “She originally had only one tail, and she was a very tiny kitten. Mrs. Hanson manipulated her appearance using her magic and natural medicine.” Ciaran patted and scratched the cat below the jaw and elicited a loud purring. “So Migi became quite big and very intelligent, but she still doesn’t speak, I’m afraid.”

  Madeline reached her hand out nervously.

  “She doesn’t bite,” Ciaran said.

  “Just in case she changes her mind, I’d like to keep my fingers,” she said, curling her fingers into her fist.

  Migi licked Madeline’s hand and rubbed her head against it.

  “Among other things, I didn’t approve of Mrs. Hanson’s practice on animals. Her alchemical practice was so distorted that often she turned transmutation into mutilation.”

  “Transmutation?”

  “It’s an alchemical term. The less you know, the better, Madeline.” The cat came back to rub at Ciaran’s legs.

  “Who’s feeding her now?” Madeline asked.

  “I don’t know. I think she’s very self-sufficient.”

  They heard footsteps, and then Tadgh appeared, pushing a man in front of him. Tadgh kept his gun pressed to the man’s back.

  “He won’t say a word,” Tadgh said. “Do you have any special mouth-opening techniques, Madeline? We boys only have our fists.”

  The man’s eyes were bizarre—a feline green.

  “Who are you?” Ciaran asked. The man stared at him but made no move to answer. Ciaran circled the man, observing him. He had seen these eyes before. He remembered now, on the bridge, the robot who had shielded him from the bullets. Its eyes had flashed the same bright green shade before it shut down.

  If his speculation was correct, these robots didn’t appear to have high levels of problem-solving abilities. They were merely soldier robots. That was why they couldn’t get him to talk.

  “Did Sciphil Two send you?”

  The man nodded.

  “Oh, so he can understand simple questions,” Tadgh said.

  “It’s a robot, Tadgh. Very low level. Not programmed to do anything complicated,” Ciaran explained to his brother.

  “But it shot at me. Is killing such a simple task?” Tadgh muttered.

  “Your mission is to kill Stefan?” Ciaran asked.

  No response.

  “It probably wouldn’t know Stefan or Stephen,” Madeline said.

  “Your mission is to target residents of this house?” Ciaran asked.

  The man nodded.

  Tadgh rolled his eyes. “This is ridiculous. Now we have to speak robot?”

  Suddenly Migi stepped out from the darkness and hissed. Tadgh jumped and pointed his gun.

  “No, no . . . it’s a cat. Don’t shoot, Tadgh!” Ciaran yelled.

  “Fuck me, it’s a hell of a cat!” Tadgh grumbled and glared at the animal.

  Migi kept hissing at the air, her tails waving frantically in different directions.

  They heard a faint movement in the air, but before they could make sense of it, the man they had captured flew at Ciaran, pressing him to the ground. Two small darts appeared on the man’s back, and Tadgh shot in the direction of a shadow in the bush and gave chase.

  Ciaran pushed the robot off of him. The man’s eyes filmed over instantly, and his body started to melt, turning into yellow liquid. The liquid pooled on the grass, smoking and sending the stench of burning flesh into the air. Then the liquid evaporated and, except for a burned patch on the grass, there was no sign of the dead man.

  Madeline helped Ciaran stand up. “You’re burning up, Ciaran.”

  “I’m running out of painkillers.”

  Tadgh returned, puffing. “Lost him.” Then he saw the patch on the grass. “Where did he go?”

  “He evaporated,” Madeline said.

  “Look out!” Ciaran flew at Tadgh, shooting at a shadow on the way down. A dart stuck into a wood panel behind Tadgh. The three of them rushed to the side of the garden where they saw the shadow drop after Ciaran’s shot.

  A man lay on the ground, looking up at them. He said nothing but pulled out a small dart.

  “Stop!” Ciaran yelled and grabbed the man’s hand. The man struggled and waved the point of th
e dart dangerously close to Ciaran’s hand.

  Madeline grabbed Ciaran from behind, pulling him off the man. “Let him go, Ciaran.” They both fell backward onto the ground.

  The man took the opportunity to stab the dart into his heart before he could be questioned. Like had happened before, this man evaporated into thin air.

  “What’s with this place? A two-tailed cat, and now evaporating men. Will we see the dragons next?” Tadgh mumbled.

  “We should go before more of them show up. The robots, not the dragons,” Ciaran said. He stood and helped Madeline to her feet.

  “Thanks. I shouldn’t have hung on to a robot programmed to self-destruct when caught,” Ciaran said.

  “You’re welcome. I make it my life’s mission to keep you alive.” She grinned and kissed him lightly.

  “Likewise,” Ciaran said. Before they left, he turned and flicked his fingers at Migi. “Come on. You too.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Tadgh protested.

  “I didn’t know you were allergic to cats,” Ciaran said.

  “People are allergic to anesthesia. I simply don’t like cats. It’s a matter of choice.”

  “Come on, Tadgh. She’s a nice and gentle cat,” Madeline said.

  Tadgh rolled his eyes. “Look at the size of her. I’d feel safer with TJ.”

  “TJ is a puppy, Tadgh. Don’t embarrass yourself. Man up. You can handle a cat,” Ciaran said and strode away.

  Migi rushed over, rubbing against Tadgh’s legs and purring. Tadgh rolled his eyes and walked away. Before reaching the car, Tadgh turned around and glared at Migi a couple of times, but she continued to follow him.

  “Don’t grin at me, cat, I’m not that friendly,” Tadgh addressed Migi before he got into the car, knowing full well the gigantic cat would be sitting right next to him.

  Chapter 9

  It was rare that Ciaran found the air in his master bedroom stuffy. He got off the bed and raised the window slightly. The cold winter breeze rushed into the room. He shut it quickly.

  The combination of painkillers and his company’s anti-inflammatory medication wasn’t pleasant, but it was a lot better than the anesthesia Doctor Thomas had threatened to put him under if he had to perform a surgery to remove the fragment of the bullet Stefan had put in his shoulder the day before.

  He turned and looked at Madeline. This beautiful woman had walked into his life in much the same way Juliette had. Except Madeline had no agenda that he knew of. Would his secrets hurt her? Would she still think of him in the same way if she knew what he had done?

  Madeline stirred and opened her beautiful brown eyes. They smiled at him even before she realized he was watching her.

  He sat down on the side of the bed. “Go back to sleep,” he said and rubbed his thumb over the dimple on her left cheek.

  “How’s the pain?” she asked groggily.

  “Totally gone.” He smiled as she rolled her eyes. She pulled him down to kiss him but suddenly stiffened and sat straight up, staring at a corner of the room.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “The dots.” She jumped off the bed.

  “Just ignore them.” He tried to pull her back to the bed, but Madeline grabbed her robe and put it on.

  “It’s the middle of the night,” he said, but he could see she wasn’t listening to him. Her eyes were fixated on a corner of the room, following what he knew were her psychic blue dots.

  “Madeline,” he called and grabbed her arm, but she shrugged him off. Ciaran staggered back. She had incredible strength. It didn’t even seem like her. Madeline walked along the hall toward the old quarter.

  “If you don’t talk to me, I won’t let you take another step, Madeline.” He darted in front of her and blocked her way.

  “There are hundreds of blue dots around you, Ciaran. They want me to follow them.”

  “You’ve seen them before. Just ignore them.”

  But instead, she ignored him and kept walking.

  “No,” he said firmly and held her shoulders. “I want you to go back to the room.” Madeline didn’t even look like herself anymore. She kept walking, and a moment later, she stood precisely at the place he feared the most—the old lab.

  The steel door glared at him in challenge.

  “The blue dots showed me the code. If you don’t punch it in, I will,” she said.

  The look in her eyes weakened his knees. Ciaran stared at the door for a long time and then entered a code and the door slid open.

  The lights turned on automatically. It was a massive abandoned lab. Vials and jars were scattered on a long, stainless steel workbench. A row of computers sat quietly, gathering dust in a corner of the room. In another corner, there was an enormous steel box that looked like a computer mainframe. Layers of dust coated everything in the room.

  He gestured widely at the room. “Well, there it is. The secret place. Are you happy now?” He was nervous, but he didn’t know why. A strange, anxious feeling washed over him.

  “What are you seeing now, Madeline?”

  She smiled. “I saw the blue dots, but they’ve gone now.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “So they woke you in the middle of the night, led you here, and then disappeared?”

  She shrugged. “Totally random, weren’t they?” She glanced around. “What a setup you have here.”

  He didn’t believe her that the dots had gone. He didn’t know what game she was playing, but he didn’t like it.

  “If there’s nothing else to see, shall we leave?” he said and headed toward the door.

  “What’s in the crucifix, and exactly what’s in the Golden Life?” she asked.

  “They are not related.”

  “The Golden Life killed Juliette and upset the air bender. He sent Stefan to go after you and the crucifix. As far as I’m concerned, they’re related.”

  The determination in her eyes told him she would find out one way or another. He nodded. “Okay . . . Juliette and I used this lab to create medicine and engineer a lot of unimaginable drugs. Golden Life was a failure, and that’s why Juliette died.”

  “You mentioned you both loved alchemy. Immortality is one of the goals of alchemy, is it not?”

  He didn’t like where her questions were heading. She couldn’t have known this much about the nature of alchemy. “What I wanted wasn’t immortality but a medicine that healed all kind of diseases. Reviving a person from death was just the first step.”

  “So why did you stop?”

  “There was one ingredient I didn’t approve of—the blood of the living.”

  Madeline raised an eyebrow. “Have you heard of a blood bank? A lot of people donate blood for medical uses, Ciaran. Why is that such a big deal?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing comes cheaply when it comes to saving lives, Madeline. To make a single dose of the medicine to save one life required sacrificial blood from another. That is, the blood had to be drawn from a person until that person died from blood loss. The blood was then distilled into one dose.” He was angry now. He could feel his uncontrollable rage coming. He inhaled slowly and lowered his voice. He needed to end the conversation quickly. “Organ donations generally occur after the donor dies. With this medicine, even if people consented, removing their blood is an execution. There’s no other way to look at it.”

  He looked at Madeline. “Feel free to judge me, Madeline.”

  She just looked at him and said nothing.

  “I was young and ambitious. I was smart enough to put together an argument that would make the project appear to be morally acceptable. And you know who was my biggest fan and believer?”

  She nodded. “Juliette.”

  “But I couldn’t go through with it. I could make the whole world believe in me. I could create a legend. I could change the landscape of science and crap like that. But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. So I pulled the plug on the project.”

  “It was too late for Juliette?”

  He nodded.
He raked his hands through his hair. He needed to punch something. “My ambition was contagious. It ate her up like cancer. And you know the rest. So effectually, I killed Juliette.”

  “No, that’s wrong.”

  “I know what’s right and what’s wrong, Madeline. I don’t care what people think of me or how they judge me. Juliette might have had another agenda when she married me. But she died because of me, and I really don’t want the past to be dug up, whatever we might find.”

  “What about the crucifix?”

  “You won’t let this go, will you?”

  “No.”

  “If there was a crucifix, and if Juliette did what people claimed she did, she hid some sample gold in the crucifix. Why she chose to use a crucifix rather than other artifacts, I don’t know.”

  “Sample gold?”

  “Rumor has it that our family fortune for generations was built on the fact that we have the John Dee’s formula to make gold. As far as I know, the rumor is partially incorrect.”

  “So what’s the correct part?”

  “Our fortune has something to do with gold, but not until more recently. And we have no ties to John Dee.”

  “How recent?”

  He turned and looked at her. “The attempt to make gold spanned generations of the LeBlancs, but my family was never able to make gold until my time. My father trained me, but I was the one to complete the formula.”

  “So you can make gold?”

  He shrugged. “It was a part of the process I stumbled across in trying to make the Golden Life. It didn’t mean much to me, but apparently being able to make gold means a lot to many greedy people. So if the rumor was ever confirmed to be correct, those people would crush our family to dust to get the formula.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “We don’t exactly make pure gold. Rather, it’s a replica of a material that has the same if not better properties. At the end of the day, the gold you dig up from the ground and the gold we make is just a material, a thing. It’s valuable because of its properties.”