Shadows of the Past: A Supernatural Suspense Mystery (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 1)

by Nellie H. Steele

  “Celine,” Duke Northcott warned in a loud voice.

  “No, Marcus, no. You are evil and I will not join you,” she said, backing up further.

  “Celine,” he warned again, “do not do something you will regret.”

  She shook her head, “The only thing that I would regret is joining you.” Then she looked toward Michael and Damien and shouted one word to them. “RUN!”

  Immediately after issuing her warning, she spun around, grabbing the book from its place on the altar near Celeste and fleeing through one of the nearby tunnels. She hoped her co-conspirators followed her lead and disappeared down the tunnel behind them. While these tunnels were a maze, she was sure she could navigate to them and give them the book.

  “CELINE! NO!” Duke Northcott howled behind her. “FIND HER!” he demanded of his loyal subjects. Celine heard footfalls running, they seemed to be coming from every direction. She weaved through the maze of tunnels, having explored enough of the cave while visiting her sister on previous occasions to move through them with ease. She tried to put as much distance between her and the cavern as possible while also making several turns so there was not a straight path to her.

  After several minutes of running through the tunnels, she stopped, clutching the book to her chest and breathing in a belabored manner. She closed her eyes, listening, trying to determine the best path to take going forward. After a few moments, she opened her eyes, peering into the blackness. She thought she detected a noise to her right, so she moved left. She went around a corner into a small circular opening. Standing in front of her was the man Duke Northcott had asked her to kill. In his hand, the knife she had dropped earlier.

  He smiled at her. “I’ll be taking that, miss,” he said, motioning to the book with the knife, a grin crossing his grizzled face.

  “No, I cannot give it to you, I’m sorry,” she said, clutching it to her chest tighter and turning to leave.

  “I wasn’t asking, miss,” he said, grabbing her arm and turning her around.

  He grasped the book, trying to pull it from her. “I said no!” she shouted. He let go of the book, nearly causing her to fall backwards.

  “And I said I wasn’t asking,” he said, plunging the knife into her abdomen. Intense pain surged through her body as the knife pierced into her belly. She dropped the book, grasping at the knife now stuck in her stomach. The man chuckled as he picked up the book. “You screamed less than your daddy. I’ll be seeing ya, miss. And I thank ya, this will get me back into the Duke’s good graces.” He disappeared down a tunnel.

  Celine sunk to her knees, pain narrowing her vision to pinpoints. She grasped the knife and pulled it from her body, shrieking as it slid out of her wound. Clutching her belly, she struggled to stand. She looked at her hands, covered in blood. She leaned against the cave wall, feeling its dampness as she labored in pain to move. She heard a noise behind her. “Oh mon Dieu, I must go, he is coming,” she said aloud, motivating herself to move.

  She struggled to move forward, staggering a few steps forward before almost collapsing. “Celine, stop,” a voice said behind her. She recognized the Duke’s voice and sobbed as she tried to push forward, realizing that she could not escape him.

  “Marcus,” she said, turning toward him, tears again streaming down her face. She began to collapse forward.

  He noticed her clutching her stomach, the blood that covered her hands and dress. “Celine, no!” he shouted, rushing toward her and catching her as she collapsed. “No, Celine, my darling,” he said holding her in his arms and surveying the wound, “who did this to you?”

  “I did, gov’ner,” the criminal said, entering the cavern again. “But I got the book back for ya, see?” he said, brandishing the book.

  Duke Northcott set his jaw, letting Celine slip to the cave floor and rising. He grasped the knife that Celine had discarded, covered in her blood. “You fool, do you know what you have done?”

  “Got ya the book, gov’ner. Now I reckon that’s worth a good bit to you, in’it?”

  “Yes, it is, give it to me.”

  “Then we’re even right?”

  “No,” the Duke said, clenching his teeth, “I’d still owe you something.”

  “Well, that sounds a bit of all right to me,” he said, handing the book over.

  The Duke accepted the book, then plunged the knife into the man’s heart. “There, now we’re even,” he said, pulling it back and allowing the man’s shuddering body to collapse to the floor where he took his last few agonizing breaths before his spirit left his body.

  Duke Northcott returned to Celine’s side, setting the knife and book down, he leaned over her. “Celine, I will not lose you,” he said. He sliced his hand open with the knife then placed his hands over her wound, squeezing his blood into it. He murmured words in Latin, then facing her said, “My blood will give you life. My blood will become your blood, my heart will beat with yours, Celine.”

  Celine groaned as the pain worsened for a moment. Within seconds, she felt the pain subsiding. She wondered if she were taking her last few breaths, slipping away from the pain of the world. But as the pain subsided, she began to feel stronger not weaker. She looked down, and it appeared as though her wound was closing. She looked up at Duke Northcott, bewildered. “You will be all right now, Celine,” he said, stroking her hair and breathing what appeared to be a sigh of relief.

  She sat up, there was no more pain in her abdomen, no more blood oozing from her body. She looked to him. From the corner of her eye, she saw the book. He had just saved her life, but she knew she had to deliver the book to Michael and Damien. If she was correct, the Duke could be injured but not killed. His hand had bled but was already healed. A deep wound could buy her the time she needed. “Thank you,” she whispered, then added, “I’m sorry.”

  His brow furrowed with confusion, then his face twisted with understanding as he felt the knife pierce his gut. She grabbed the book and fled from the room. The knife clattered to the floor behind her but she dared not look back.

  “Celine!” she heard a voice call out. She did her best to head toward it, recognizing it as Michael’s. Threading through the tunnels, she made her way to the mouth of the cave. She could see two figures standing at the entrance and she raced toward them, practically running straight into their arms.

  “I have the book,” she said, out of breath. “Come quickly, we must get to the beach and send you on your way.”

  “Okay. Oh my God, Celine!” Damien said as she emerged into the moonlight.

  “I’m fine, not even a scratch on me, come, he isn’t far behind.”

  They followed her to the beach, she selected a spot that shielded them from view. Handing the book to Michael, she said, “Are you ready?”

  “Yes, we’re ready,” he answered.

  “Wait,” Damien interrupted. “Come with us, you aren’t safe here.”

  “I cannot,” Celine said, “I am safe now, no physical harm can come to me.”

  “But…” he protested.

  “There is no time to discuss it. You must go. Now be ready when the portal opens.”

  They nodded in agreement. Celine nodded back. “Good luck,” she said, stretching her hands in front of her and squeezing her eyes closed. The wind picked up around them and a twinkling started on the rock face in front of Celine. They waited until the wind was blowing in a near gale force and the portal began to open. Once it was fully opened, they raced toward it.

  Damien looked back once, seeing Celine’s hair twisting in the wind, her dress blowing wildly. “Come on!” Michael shouted ahead of him. Damien turned and followed him into the portal, leaving Celine and the eighteenth century world behind in a brilliant flash.

  Chapter 31

  Present day, Bucksville, Maine

  Celine sat at Maddy’s bedside, placing a cool rag across the child’s forehead. The children were getting worse, feverish, and spouting random and strange utterances whenever they were awake. Millie used a m
ild sedative on the children in an attempt to ease their discomfort. There had been disturbances in the village, too: unexplained animal deaths, diseased crops, and fits of madness.

  They had moved the children to Alexander’s house, yet the trouble seemed to follow them there. They were careful to keep Celeste hidden away, too, lest Marcus Northcott discover she had returned from the dead. Things were at their breaking point; if the book did not arrive soon, there may be no recovering.

  Celine shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. She pulled her legs up to her chest and onto the chair, propping her head up with her hand. Gray entered the room, putting his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, giving his hand a squeeze.

  Out of nowhere, a rogue breeze rustled her hair. No windows were open in the room. Her brows furrowed for a moment then she leapt from her chair.

  “What is it?” Gray asked.

  “They’re coming back,” she said, making a beeline out of the room and to the living room where they had last seen Michael and Damien. In the living room, she found Alexander. The air stirred even more when she reached the room. “They’re coming,” she said. Alexander stood and together the three of them waited for Michael and Damien to appear.

  Within moments the gale force winds blew through the room and a glimmer appeared, growing larger by the second on the far wall. Within seconds, it covered most of the wall and within a few more, Michael and Damien were standing in front of them, Michael clutching a book to his chest.

  Celine breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of both of them, appearing no worse for wear. She ran to them, pulling them both into a hug at the same time.

  “We got it,” Michael said.

  She stepped back, “Are you okay?” She looked between the two of them, knowing the terror that they had just lived through. Centuries of living had not dulled the memory for her and they had just lived through it.

  “Yes, yes. We’re all right, more or less,” Michael said.

  “I feel awful that we had to leave you that night, Celine. What we witnessed you go through was horrible. I can’t imagine what you went through after we left,” Damien said, worry crossing his face.

  “I survived. And now, thanks to you both, the Duke will not,” Celine answered.

  Michael gave a small smile. “I hope not, that guy’s a real bastard.”

  He handed the book to Gray. Celine smiled at his comment, her arms still around them. “I hope it’s the right book. I’ve never seen a book look anything like this,” Michael said.

  “Oh, that’s the book, all right,” Celine answered. “And I doubt you have. I don’t think there’s ever been another one like it. Bound by leather made from human flesh and filled with pages written in blood, it is as horrific as its name.”

  “And just as unhelpful it seems,” Gray said, looking through the book with Alexander. “Other than a list of names, it appears to be gibberish.” He slammed it shut, throwing it down on the couch in frustration.

  Celine smiled. “It’s written in a language only a few gifted people can understand. People like the Duke.”

  “What good does that do us? Is he going to help us read the book so we can destroy him?” Gray yelled.

  “No, but you forget, I am as powerful as he and his blood runs through my veins, which means I can read it.”

  A smile spread across Gray’s face. He handed the book to Celine who opened it, scanning it. “So, does it tell us how to destroy him?”

  “Not destroy him, but banish him from this world. See these markings? They tell us how the coven was created, who it serves and how to handle a problem, should one arise.”

  “And the names?” Alexander asked, as he, Michael and Damien grouped around Celine.

  “The names are those in his coven.”

  “Your name’s not in there,” Damien said, seeing the end of the list without having seen her name.

  “No, I never pledged my loyalty to him, never signed the book in the blood of another. I never belonged to him, despite what I became that night,” Celine explained.

  Damien nodded in understanding. “So what do we need to do?” Gray asked.

  “We need to hold a special ceremony, call forth the Hellbeast he serves and ask him to take him back to whence he came. It will not be easy. As much as I’d like to do this alone, I will need all of you, including Teddy and Celeste. Alexander and Gray, you’re going to have to help me control the Duke once we get him on site, along with Teddy. Celeste will have to lure him there. I’ll perform the ceremony.”

  “What about us?” Michael asked.

  “Stay with the children, watch over them. You’ve done your part.”

  “We want to help!” Damien exclaimed.

  “I know, but you have,” she said, grabbing his hand. “Please, this is very dangerous for someone who isn’t immune to it like we are.”

  Damien nodded. “Okay,” he reluctantly agreed.

  “When and where, Celine?” Gray asked.

  “No time like the present. The beach just up from the cave. Celeste can lure him down the path through the cave and out of the cave’s mouth onto the beach, he’ll walk right into our trap without ever seeing us.”

  “How can we be sure this Hellbeast will banish him?” Gray questioned.

  “This Hellbeast will not be pleased that he’s not gathering up a following, increasing his coven. Simply put, he will be fired for not doing his job. That’s one of the 'problems’ the book states. If someone isn’t carrying their weight, they can be banished from the earth.”

  “Well, let’s get started with the banishment then,” he answered.

  “Good luck,” Michael said.

  “Be careful,” Damien added.

  “We’ll see you when this is over,” Celine said, reassuring them.

  Chapter 32

  Celeste made her way to the home that sat on the edge of the cliffs. She could see lights inside burning away the darkness around the home. She was careful to keep to the shadows, using her black cape to stay hidden until she wanted to be noticed. Reaching the house, she ascended the steps to the porch in silence and approached the front door. She removed the note from her pocket and slid it under the door. Celeste retreated down the steps as stealthily as she climbed them and stopped a few feet from the house. She stood visibly in the path, pushing back the hood of her cape, allowing the moonlight to bathe her hair and face. There she would wait for the note’s recipient to find her.

  She did not have to wait long, within minutes, she spied through the windows the note being handed off to the Duke. He looked at the envelope, on which she had scrawled Marcus. Opening it he read the note, then vaulted from his chair and made his way to the front door. Celeste knew the words by heart and she read them aloud as he read the note. “Marcus, I have information you must know regarding Celine. Meet me later, C.”

  The mysterious note undoubtedly piqued his interested, as they had presumed it would. He opened the door, still pulling on his cape-like coat. Glancing up, he caught sight of Celeste standing in the moonlight. Celeste paused a moment, allowing him enough of a look to be sure he recognized her. Then she moved down the path, pulling her hood over her.

  She risked a glance back. Satisfied that he was following her, she continued into the woods and toward the cave path’s entrance. She made her way through the narrow passages, winding her way down to the beach. He was fast on her tracks. She paused again at the mouth of the cave, then darted onto the beach.

  Celine made her way to the beach, accompanied by Gray, Alexander, and Teddy. They picked a spot close to the cave opening, but hidden from its view by a rocky outcropping. Celine carried with her the book. They positioned themselves in a semi-circle, facing the cave entrance. Celine began reading from the book, invoking the Hellbeast that Marcus Northcott had sold his soul to long ago.

  In a loud voice, she called out, welcoming him to join their group. “I call upon the Hellbeast, Bazios, he who forged a pact so long ago with the one who call
s himself Marcus Northcott. He who has allowed him to live many lifetimes to serve his master. Come to us and behold what a poor servant you have chosen. Come to us! Come forth from the eternal hellfire where you are banished to live for all eternity and join our circle so that you may punish your unworthy servant. Come, Bazios, come.”

  As she called to him, a pattern snaked through the sand. Then the sand began to swirl in front of them. It twisted and danced upward until it formed a writhing serpentine figure with the head of a man and the horns of a goat. “You called to me?” it hissed.

  “Yes, Bazios, we did.”

  “Who calls to me?” he demanded.

  “Celine Buckley calls to you.”

  “I know of no Celine Buckley.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” Celine countered, “but I was intended to be one of yours, brought to you by your servant Marcus Northcott. Marcus failed to deliver not only my soul but the souls of many others. See, here, how the book you and he signed in spilled blood has no new entries. For centuries you have allowed him to walk this earth and for centuries he has played you for a fool.”

  “Why do you call upon me to tell me these things?”

  “Because I want you to reclaim him and take him to the depths of hell with you.”

  “Why should I do your bidding?”

  “Because your book demands it. Or are you too weak to make him pay for his lack of obedience?”

  The sand snake quivered in anger. “Must I do your job for you, Bazios? What will your Dark Lord say?” Celine continued to needle at him.

  He growled with rage. “Bring him to me and I shall deal with him.”

  “You’re in luck, Bazios. For he approaches us now, he is close. Watch and observe how your so-called servant displays his arrogance, throwing your pact to the wind as he pursues the only thing he has for epochs, his own gratification by making me his.”