by D. N. Leo
Ciaran’s voice was already muffled with the kiss. “It’s quite convenient actually. Stefan just called your phone. I picked up, so he was a bit disappointed. He wanted to meet at a national park.”
She stopped the kiss. “Which one?”
“The national park next to Rufford Abbey.”
She withheld a sigh of relief. If the crucifix was actually at Fountains Abbey, Ciaran wouldn’t accidentally stumble upon it at Rufford Abbey. “All right. Is Jo okay?”
“Yes. She sounded fine.”
“Stefan let you talk to her?”
“Not voluntarily. But a man has to know how to negotiate, doesn’t he? The meeting isn’t on for another few hours. So we have time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me in front of Tadgh?”
“I don’t want to have to worry about him.”
“He looked all right in the room. You’re worried about what happened in the lab?”
Ciaran nodded.
“Wouldn’t it be better to have him by your side than leaving him at home?”
Ciaran shook his head. “I’m sending him to our Paris headquarters. It will keep him busy. He gets along well with my cousin, George, there.”
“You’ll need a bulldozer,” Madeline muttered.
“I beg your pardon?”
She smiled and kissed him again until all of the knotted muscles in his body loosened. With just a slight push, he was on the couch with her on top. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it, desperately getting to the flesh and the firmness of his toned muscles.
This man knew how to touch a woman. All of her senses exploded, her body relaxed, and she felt as if she’d melt under his touch and evaporate into thin air. He ravished her mouth then tugged at her shirt and pulled it off.
And that was when he saw it—a big red scar on the left side of her chest.
Damn! Madeline cursed to herself. She had totally forgotten about the mark.
“What’s this? It wasn’t there the night before.”
“It’s a burn.”
“This is a scar, Madeline, not a new wound. How did it happen?”
Madeline pulled her shirt down to cover her exposed breast. “I fought with Juliette during the coma. She stabbed me, and I didn’t duck fast enough. I gave her a few good blows, though.”
Ciaran sat up on the couch. “Say that again, please!”
“I fought with Juliette. She told me it wasn’t a dream. It was a hologame, whatever that means.”
Ciaran narrowed his eyes. “She told you that she got you into a hologame?”
“That’s what she said. What’s a hologame, Ciaran?”
Ciaran smiled and teased Madeline hair. “You’ve seen a hologram, haven’t you?”
She nodded.
“At a very advanced level of technology, instead of using telephone, we use holograms to communicate, and we call it holocast. A holocast can not only send hologram images but can actually teleport a person as well. That is, if the communicators choose to step out of a holocast.”
Madeline blinked. “Better than Star Wars!”
Ciaran chuckled. “A hologame uses the same technology to allow players to compete in a virtual environment. I’m testing the technology at the moment.”
“You invented it?”
Ciaran laughed. “I invented my own version of it. But there are others who have their own technology.”
“How many others?”
“There are a handful of manufacturers in the world. It’s very cost-prohibitive.”
Madeline chuckled. “I’m sure it takes more than money.”
Ciaran nodded. “But what you experienced—if it truly was a hologame—is unheard of. It was played under subconscious conditions—that’s like playing using your mind. Any technology that plays with the mind is dangerous and immoral. Especially, when it’s done without your consent.”
His eyes darkened now. She recalled Tadgh telling her how helpless Ciaran had felt when she didn’t wake. “Juliette had my partial consent. Please don’t make her angrier with you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Her blue dots and her voice kept accusing you of killing her. I just wanted her to stop haunting you and this house. I agreed to talk to her, and she told me to smash the tube in the lab.”
The fury shooting from his eyes was like a laser. Ciaran stood and strode toward the window, staring outside. She knew he was trying to control his temper. She said nothing else.
When he turned around, his eyes were completely dark, and his voice was so low that it sounded like a growl. “Don’t you ever put yourself between me and my problem. Juliette is my problem. I alone will deal with her, just as I have in the past I don’t know how many years.”
“Well, you didn’t exactly do a good job.”
“I’m handling it.”
“How? By not talking about it? By stopping everyone in your family from discussing it or helping you?”
“I don’t need your help. Or anyone else’s.”
“I’m sorry I hurt your ego.” She put her hands on her hips.
“Ego! You think this has to do with my ego?”
“Give me a better explanation then, Ciaran.”
“You don’t know what Juliette was capable of when she was alive. And she’s worse now that she’s dead. The people you’re talking to are Juliette’s allies, and they can crush you before you even know what’s happening. You’re far too important for me to lose. And if you take that lightly, then that hurts my ego!” He hit a vase. It flew to the wall and fell shattered to the floor, along with her nerves. “I’m sorry I’ve scared you.” He flopped down to the couch and put his head in his hands.
She embraced him from behind. “Please tell me you forgive me.”
He turned around and pulled her into his arms. “There is nothing to forgive, Madeline. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell.”
“Say sorry to the vase!”
He smiled, although it didn’t quite travel to his eyes. “It would take a load off me if you could refrain yourself from any drastic action toward people you don’t know.”
She tucked his long hair behind his ears, reached up, and kissed his cheek. “I promise.”
Ciaran’s phone buzzed. “Lindsay . . . All right. Thanks.” He hung up the phone and rushed toward his computer. Madeline followed.
Opening a file, he skimmed through rows and rows of data and codes. Then he turned off the computer and stood up.
“We need to leave now. We are going to Laurent’s place and then off to Rufford Abbey.”
“What just happened, Ciaran?”
“I’ll explain on the way. The data is Stefan’s computer search pattern. He just tapped into Laurent’s home computer. I want to make sure everything is okay.”
“Why Laurent?”
“She was Juliette’s best friend.”
Before they reached the door, Tadgh approached with a grin on his face. “Going to a picnic without me?”
Chapter 57
An hour later, they arrived at Stow-on-the-Wold. They had been here before for Robert’s funeral, the day after the Fosse Way saga. Madeline remembered the lawn, the house, and the sad aura it had had at the time.
She was sure that, as the head of the LeBlancs’ security, Robert’s death wouldn’t have left his own family in limbo. But after what had happened at Mon Ciel, she thought they would be able to leave this behind them. But no, here they were here again, seeing the widow and the child.
But things had indeed changed since the funeral. The sad aura was gone. The widow Laurent greeted them at the front door. Her eyes were warm and contented. Laurent had had to get on with life for her daughter’s sake, Madeline thought.
“Oh, Tadgh, you look so well! It’s so good to see you.”
“You are beautiful, as always. I am desperate to see the baby Bella!”
“She’s asleep, but she’ll be up soon. Come on in.”
When everyone had settled around the coffee table, Laurent asked
Ciaran, “Why now, Ciaran? For so many years, you refused to touch any of her belongings. Is it worth it to dig up old memories now?”
“It’s a long story. I need to have a look at her journals, or anything about what she did before we got married. Also, I’ve reserved a very nice holiday home overseas where you can stay. You need a break from all this.”
“Are you evacuating us, Ciaran? What’s going on?”
“I’ve lost Robert, and there’s nothing I can do to bring him back. But I can’t let anything happen to you and Bella. Just go for a short time. It would give me peace of mind. Please.”
Laurent sighed. “All right, very well then. The room is intact. Help yourself to anything in it.”
“You kept her room all these years?” Ciaran was astonished.
“We were like sisters. You’re not the only one who can’t let go, Ciaran. She used it occasionally after you got married as well. Whenever she was confused, desperate, lonely, or just needed a shoulder, she’d come here.”
“I’m sorry . . .” Ciaran began.
Tadgh cleared his throat. “I think the baby is crying. Could I please see her, Laurent? I’m good with kids. I promise I won’t scare her or anything.”
Madeline knew there was no baby crying. Tadgh was a master at distraction. As his mother had said, he knew Ciaran’s weakness.
Laurent stood and smiled at Ciaran and Madeline. “All right then, you two can head to the room. You know where it is, Ciaran. I’ll take Tadgh to see the baby so he’ll stop nagging. I have something else for you, too, Ciaran.”
They parted ways.
Juliette’s room was neat, tidy, and minimal. There was nothing nonessential. No flowers, vases, paintings, or decorative items. A single bed was tucked into a corner, and a desk sat in front of a small window.
On the desk was a small computer, books, journals, and other reading material, all neatly arranged. The room was well-maintained, so much so that Madeline wagered she wouldn’t be able to find a single speck of dust in here.
On a small shelf, there were more books and a picture of Ciaran and Juliette that had been taken in front of the Bodleian Library at the University of Oxford. They looked so happy. Ciaran looked exactly the same, his long black hair swept back, almost touching his shoulders.
Ciaran muttered something and was about to remove the picture from the shelf, but Madeline stepped in and grabbed it before he could. “Look at you! You wore your hair long, even back then.” Ciaran just smiled and continued to scour the room for notebooks and journals.
Madeline found a large wooden box and opened it. Inside, there she found tiny jars and tubes containing eye shadows, lipsticks, and lip balms. It looked like Juliette was trying to create her own line of makeup. There was also a small bottle of perfume. Madeline thought Juliette had probably made that, as well.
The box looked as if it had another layer. She dug her fingernails in and tried to lift the surface shelf. The velvet-covered bottom popped up. “What do we have here?”
Ciaran turned around and came closer to take a look. Peeling the fake bottom off, they found a smaller box with a rusty lid underneath. Ciaran rubbed the rust off to see what was written there. It read “Dream Primer.”
Ciaran put the box down on the bed quickly and pulled Madeline away from it. “It’s a primer. She had been making this all along. What’s it for?” Ciaran asked, mostly to himself.
Ciaran grabbed a large folder from the shelf. Inside, there were several articles, pictures, and notes. He picked up an article. The title read, “Susceptibility to Hypnosis.” He picked up another one. “Neurological Fantasy.” Ciaran shook his head and muttered, “I didn’t know she was into these subjects.”
Then he picked up a note with her handwritten text and a diagram. The diagram looked like a flow chart and had many wavy lines coming in and out of boxes and bubbles. “Electrical waves . . . Brain waves . . .” Ciaran talked to himself. He turned the note aside to read the tiny print. “Dreamer Primer,” Ciaran read out loud.
They heard a loud bang and saw a fireball hit the glass window. The glass shattered. The curtain and the rod collapsed on Ciaran and Madeline. Ciaran dropped everything he was holding, pulling Madeline aside.
They both dropped to the floor as another fireball flew in and hit the bed. The linens caught on fire and spread with lightning speed. Ciaran grabbed Madeline and pulled her with him out of the room.
They heard Tadgh shouting to get out from the other end of the house. At the end of the hallway, they could see him helping Laurent, who was carrying the baby.
It looked as if the back room of the house and the kitchen was on fire. They could hear the footsteps of people running outside and some on the roof. They met in the living room.
Both Ciaran and Tadgh pulled out their guns and pushed the women protectively behind them. Ciaran looked toward the kitchen and saw a spark. They kicked the door open and stormed outside. The gas tank in the kitchen exploded behind them, and the house burst into flames.
“Get in the car,” Ciaran said. As they ran toward the car, a fireball dropped and exploded in front of it, stopping them from getting inside.
They withdrew from the vehicle.
Three men in black, all wearing masks, ran after them from the back of the house.
The house was quite remote and did not have any next-door neighbors. But it did sit close to the road. A car passing by approached and stopped when the driver saw the house on fire. A couple got out. Two men in masks rushed out from the side of the house to shoot at them. A series of small darts flew out and hit the car’s passengers.
Ciaran, Madeline, and Tadgh had seen this weapon before at Mrs. Hanson’s place. The tourists evaporated into thin air, leaving only piles of empty clothes behind.
Ciaran shot at a man approaching them. Tadgh took another one down.
The third one pointed his gun right at Madeline. But when he saw her face clearly, he didn’t shoot. Taking the opportunity, Ciaran put a bullet in the man’s head.
The baby cried in Laurent’s arms.
The two who had just shot the couple took shelter behind a tree so that Ciaran and Tadgh couldn’t get a good shot. Despite Ciaran yelling at her, Madeline ran out and grabbed two wood panels standing against the garden fences.
They could use these as shields against the darts, Madeline thought. Whoever those people were, they apparently wouldn’t shoot her.
Ciaran cursed and grabbed the panels, pushing Madeline behind him. Tadgh grabbed the other panel, and blocked Laurent and the baby.
Five men appeared from the left and five from the right. They charged forward, kicking at the panels. But they didn’t shoot.
Ciaran took down two more, and Tadgh fired at one of them.
There were more men coming. The masked men kept charging at the panels until one of them got past. He grabbed Ciaran and kneed him in his cracked rib. Ciaran slumped to the ground, heaving in pain.
Tadgh turned around and received a kick that sent him to the ground as well.
The five men in masks charged toward the women and children.
Madeline picked up a steel bar lying nearby and whacked at the coming men without mercy. She sent three of them to the ground, perhaps with cracked skulls.
The other two were grabbed from behind by Ciaran and Tadgh. While the men fought, Madeline guided Laurent, still carrying the baby, to the car.
They traveled only a short distance before five more men charged over from the other side of the road. These five had the dart guns in their hands.
Ciaran could see it was too far to reach the women before they were shot. One man gave Madeline a kick, sending her skidding away on the ground.
Ciaran and Tadgh pulled their guns and fired at the five men. Four went down, and the last one shot at Laurent and the baby before was killed by Ciaran.
Ciaran and Tadgh hurried over, and Ciaran helped Madeline up. “Were you shot?” he asked.
“No, I’m fine,” she said.
“No, no, no, please no!” Ciaran looked helplessly at the two of them, who were fast fading away. Soon, like the others, mother and daughter became just piles of clothes.
Lying next to Laurent’s clothes was a book, Juliette’s diary. Laurent had kept the diary in her own room and wanted to give it to Ciaran. Luckily, it had not been destroyed in the fire.
Madeline grabbed Ciaran and hugged him tightly while his body shook in uncontrollable grief.
Tadgh kicked the fence furiously. “Who the fuck were those people? What the fuck do they want?”
There was nothing more here for them to see or do. There was nothing left except for piles of clothes where people used to exist. Ciaran stood up, grabbed the diary, and moved numbly toward his car. His face was cold, his eyes burned with anger.
Five more men appeared across the road.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Tadgh said.
Ciaran said nothing. He pulled out his gun and shot three men down at once. The other two charged forward with lightning speed, leaping onto Ciaran’s car, one of them giving Ciaran a flying kick on his way down. Ciaran slid away on the ground. The diary dropped out of his hand. The other man attacked Tadgh.
The one who had just kicked Ciaran walked toward the diary to pick it up. Before he could reach it, he copped a metal bar in the head from Madeline.
He was down and stayed down.
The last man had been incapacitated by Tadgh.
Ciaran picked up the diary, put it in his jacket pocket, and walked to the car. Madeline and Tadgh followed.
Chapter 58
Ciaran got behind the wheel. Madeline was in the front seat, and Tadgh was in the back.
Ciaran had just started the car up when they heard the roar of an engine and saw a car hurtling toward them. Ciaran gave a half smile and geared up his car.
Tadgh was silent. He braced himself and did his best to hold his organs in place.
Ciaran’s car zoomed out to the road, fishtailed at the corner of the driveway, and left behind nothing but smoke for the other car.
