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

  “If Juliette got a sample of your gold and gave it to someone, could they replicate it?”

  Ciaran chuckled. “I wouldn’t think so. It’s not just a formula. It’s an alchemical practice.”

  “Could Juliette do it if she had the formula?”

  He nodded. “Maybe. But we’ll never know, will we? That’s why the air bender was upset when she died. Because even if they had the formula, without her, they couldn’t do anything with it.”

  “So why is Stefan so insistent about finding the crucifix?”

  Ciaran shook his head. “I have no idea. Maybe he has no idea that the formula is worthless without the right person to aid in the process. I don’t think Stefan exists at the upper end of the food chain. But whoever is paying him might know how to use the formula. Regardless, I don’t intend to investigate. We can’t change what happened.”

  Madeline smiled. Strangely, he didn’t think she was smiling at him. It wasn’t a smile, but more like a look of smugness.

  “Do you hear that?” she asked, seeming to look straight through him.

  “Hear what?” he asked and turned around to look. No one stood behind him.

  “So he said your death was accidental. He cares for you. Whatever your game is, take it elsewhere. Call off your minions.” Madeline was talking to the air.

  “You can’t be talking to Juliette, Madeline. She’s dead. Whatever is claiming to be Juliette and talking to you now, it’s lying.”

  “Get the hell out of his life! Out of his home!” Madeline raised her voice.

  “This is ludicrous, Madeline. Talk to me!” He tried to get her attention without success. Madeline paced back and forth in the room. He tried to drag her out, but she shoved him away. It was so sudden he wasn’t prepared. He staggered back, off balance.

  He approached her again but the air grew thicker and seemed to hold him at a distance.

  “Air bending. Who are you? Show yourself. Show yourself to me, coward!” Ciaran snarled. “You picked on Madeline because she doesn’t know. If you claim to be Juliette, show yourself to me. If you can’t, then you are a liar.” Nothing happened. “You see, Madeline. Whoever you are talking to is lying.” He tried to get to her, but he couldn’t even move an inch toward her.

  Madeline still paced and ranted. He could hear part of what she was saying but not all.

  “Madeline!” he called out.

  Madeline waved her arms in the air. “You want to negotiate? All right!” She darted toward the medicine cabinet. Inside, there was a row of vials. “Which one?” she asked.

  “No!” Ciaran yelled at her, but she didn’t seem to hear him.

  She grabbed one of the tubes and smashed it on the floor. A stream of smoke rose up from the substance and flooded the room.

  And that was all he could remember.

  Chapter 10

  Madeline flopped onto a cold stone floor so hard the she could hear her bones rattle. She couldn’t remember much except for some flashes of light and feeling as if she was flying through a tunnel of bright light. Then she awoke here, in a stone chapel.

  She glanced around. This wasn’t the lab, and Ciaran was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t sure she was even in the same century. She was conscious, and she didn’t need to pinch herself to know that. The bone-crushing fall pained her, and it wasn’t the sort of pain she would experience in a dream.

  She knew the pain of nightmares. She’d had too many of them to count, and this chapel, the air around her, and the feel of the cold breezes and the vivid stench of rotting flesh was much more real than what she would experience in nightmares.

  She walked along the dark hall of the chapel, approaching the altar at the far end. Or maybe it was a stone bench rather than an altar. When Madeline got closer, she could see the shadow of someone praying. Hearing Madeline’s footsteps, the person turned around. At the same time, large candles on the stone base and torches on the wall lit up.

  The woman was stunning. Her long, flaming red hair hung down to her waist. Her milky skin glowed in the flickering light. Her almond-shaped blue eyes gazed at Madeline.

  Madeline’s instincts told her this was Juliette. A primal corner of her mind whispered to her that this was the woman with whom she was in competition, the woman who held a permanent place in Ciaran’s heart.

  “Hello, sister,” the woman said.

  “Hello back.”

  The woman stepped closer to Madeline, sweeping her long dress across the floor. “I’m Juliette.”

  She smiled. “I knew that.”

  “You’re smart. Ciaran is always attracted to smart women.”

  “You studied him thoroughly before you met and married him.”

  Juliette smiled. “Do you mean I married him with an agenda, as everyone else says?”

  “It was a statement, not a question. You don’t have to confirm or deny. Ciaran wouldn’t care for that. You called, and I responded. Let’s talk this out.”

  “You can see me. That means you have a talent.”

  “You heard Ciaran. He didn’t mean you any harm. Why didn’t you leave him alone?”

  “Well, I didn’t do anything to him, did I? He doesn’t have your talent. He can’t see me. What can I possibly have done to him?”

  “Your brother, Stefan, claimed you sent him a crucifix with Ciaran’s family secrets in it. Is that true?”

  Juliette smiled. “You’re very direct, Madeline.”

  “It comes with the job.”

  “Do you love Ciaran?”

  “Look, if you are who you say you are, I need answers. Your brother took my best friend, Jo, and if we can’t figure out the location of the crucifix, he’s going to kill more people, including my friend.”

  “I no longer have a connection with Stefan. But yes, I did hide away a crucifix for my long-lost family.”

  “Where?”

  “Why do you expect to get things the easy way? The short time I spent with Ciaran, I barely had any of his love. It was all about work. I worked hard, and I devoted myself to him and to his work. I dealt with his mother’s harsh judgment and lived in hell for six long months. And I got nothing from it. Why would I want to tell you anything?”

  “This isn’t a competition, Juliette. Look at you. You’re stunning. You’re smart. You went to Oxford. I’m a nobody, a reporter from New York. I have no qualifications of the LeBlanc’s caliber. Ciaran loved you. He told me so. Your death scarred him for life. Look, all I need is the location of the crucifix so I can rescue my friend from your brother. Then we can go back to New York, and Ciaran will be yours forever.”

  “Sister! Oh, sister! Talk is so cheap.” Juliette walked around, pacing back and forth like an angry cat. “It was his fault for not believing in me. He never believed I loved him.”

  “Did you? You didn’t dig for his family secrets? You didn’t scam your way in?”

  Juliette looked at Madeline with tears in her eyes. “Yes, I did. I did scam my way in. I was nineteen, and I was raised to do just that, to get inside the LeBlancs. What did you expect me to do?”

  “I can’t say. I can’t speak for you. But just this once, if you’ve ever loved Ciaran, tell me where the crucifix is.”

  Juliette laughed bitterly. “And what do I get for telling you?”

  “What do you want?” Madeline asked.

  “Be careful what you ask for.”

  “I’ll keep my promises. Whatever you think is fair.”

  Juliette laughed again. “I lived for fairness and believed in good karma. And that is why I ended up dead. What do you think, sister?” Juliette gestured widely at the unflattering chapel in which she resided.

  “Just tell me what you want, and I’ll see if I can help.”

  Juliette looked Madeline up and down, and she put on a gracious smile. “If you want to know where the crucifix is, come here. I’ll show you.” She waved her arm and a ring of fire burst up from the floor, surrounding her. She looked at Madeline and smiled. “I don’t have to tell you
that the fire is quite hot, do I?”

  This can’t be real, Madeline thought. She stepped toward the fire. Juliette was right. The fire released a terrifying heat.

  “This is not a fair fight,” she said.

  Juliette laughed. “No, it’s not. You can have the weapon of your choice. What would you like?”

  “A sword.” She didn’t have to think hard about that one. Fencing was her favourite sport, and she did quite well at it, depending on the type of sword. She’d fare a lot better with a sword in her hand than clawing at Juliette through the fire.

  Juliette flicked her finger and a sword dropped down at Madeline’s feet. Where the hell am I? This has to be a dream. Surely she couldn’t die in a dream.

  She picked the sword up. It was perfect as if tailored for her.

  Madeline looked at Juliette who still stood smiling from the other side of the firewall. Madeline approached the fire and walked through it. The flames were thick and hot. The pain was excruciating. She didn’t understand how a dream could hurt so much. Her clothes, her flesh, her bones were burning. A fireball exploded on her chest. She could feel her heart searing.

  Madeline couldn’t comprehend the pain and didn’t think she could make it to the other side, she didn’t believe she could survive this fire. If she died in a dream, would she remain in oblivion forever?

  Amazed that she was past the fire, she raised the sword and charged at Juliette. Juliette raised her arm, and a sword appeared in her hand. She blocked Madeline’s blow. The force of the swords’ clash was like an explosion, sending numbing pain straight to Madeline’s brain. She was sure it had the same effect on Juliette, as she staggered back and look stunned. Like an angry wolf, Juliette charged at her. She dodged, slashed, swiped, and was surprised that her fighting skills weren’t rusty in the least.

  Juliette’s had what looked like supernatural power. It was not a fair fight. Madeline traded a blow for a blow, a kick for a kick, and a slash for a slash. Juliette raised her sword and charged straight at her without guarding. She was fighting to the death.

  Madeline did the same. Her sword stabbed into Juliette’s chest, and Juliette’s sword did the same to her. The pain was excruciating. The difference between the two of them was that Juliette screamed, and she didn’t.

  As far as she was concerned, she had won the contest.

  Juliette pulled her sword back and waved her arm. Both the fire and the swords vanished. Madeline looked down to see that the wounds on her body had disappeared. But the pain still lingered.

  “We’re such fools, sister. After all I have done for Ciaran, he has never said he loved me. He has never said the word. He burned my heart. And now he’ll burn yours.”

  “Do you want his love, or do you want him merely to say it? I know men who would say without hesitation that they’d die for their women. But do you think any of them would actually do what they say? None that I know of.”

  Juliette sneered.

  Madeline continued. “As for Ciaran, when he says something to me, I know he means it. He said he loved you, and he said I mattered to him. So how are we stacking up on this love ladder?”

  “He was my first, and my last. Why does it matter now?” Juliette laughed until her eyes watered. Then she waved her arm absently. “The crucifix was at Fountains Abbey . . .” Juliette’s image flickered, and her expression changed. There were intense emotions in her eyes, very different from what had been there before. “Do not let him find the crucifix. It’s not meant for him,” Juliette said. Her image flickered again and again. Then her expression returned to what it was before, staged.

  Madeline frowned at the inconsistencies in Juliette’s statements and expressions. What was going on? “If the crucifix is not meant for Ciaran, who is it for?”

  Juliette stared at her blankly. “When did I say it wasn’t for Ciaran?”

  You just did. What’s with the inconsistency? “Oh, I had thought you might want to give the crucifix to your brother. Why would Ciaran want it? If I just tell Stefan where it is, would he leave all of us alone?”

  Juliette frowned. “Stefan! Yes. My poor brother. He knows nothing. Father wasn’t nice to him.”

  “Where’s your father now?”

  Juliette looked as if she was daydreaming, and her image flickered so much it almost dissolved. Madeline had a feeling she was talking to two different versions of Juliette, and the flickering one before her was the real one. “Tell me why Ciaran shouldn’t find the crucifix?”

  “It will kill him. Please don’t let him do it. I love him. I never want to harm him.”

  The image flickered again and again, and then the cold, emotionless Juliette returned. She wiped at a tear running down her face and observed the teardrop on her fingertip. Then she glanced up at Madeline.

  “What did you just say?” Juliette asked.

  “Nothing. Is this a dream? Am I conscious?” She couldn’t think of any other questions to defuse this Juliette’s suspicion.

  “You’re not dreaming. This is my world. It’s more real than anything you can ever imagine. This is a hologame.”

  “A what?”

  “A world where I can kill without consequences.” Juliette swung her arm, and a dagger appeared out of nowhere. Madeline didn’t have time to react before the dagger stabbed her heart.

  A hologame? She wasn’t sure what that meant, but the blood gushing from her body was definitely real. It wasn’t nearly as painful as before. But she could feel her life drifting away. She slumped to the floor.

  If this was the last time she would be able think as a human, she might be tempted to use her remaining drop of consciousness to think of Ciaran. But she refused to give up that easily. “For the rest of his life, Ciaran will feel responsible for your death. But that means you’re dead to him. Killing me isn’t going to help you. And I am not going to die here in your stupid hologame.”

  Juliette touched Madeline’s cheek. Her hands felt cool but very real. “You’re a fighter. And I have underestimated you. I haven’t set the rules for the game, so I can’t kill you now. I’ll see you next time, when I set up the game properly and kill you both.”

  “Whatever you do, you’re dead to Ciaran.”

  “If Ciaran thinks I’m dead, he’s mistaken.” Her image flickered again and then disappeared into the darkness.

  Chapter 11

  “Are you sure, Lindsay?”

  “Very. I’ll get the file delivered to you right after Stefan finishes with it.”

  “Thank you. I will be at Mon Ciel this morning.”

  Ciaran put the phone away. Stefan was searching for old records of Juliette’s addresses before they were married. What an idiot! He should have known Ciaran had tagged all information channels of anything related to Juliette. As soon as Stefan triggered a search, his people would be alerted.

  He gazed out at the endless lawn of the manicured back garden, squinting at the sunshine on the beheaded statue of the Goddess of Kindness, the missing head a product of his youth. His father had placed the statue in the garden to remind him of his careless action.

  But he was four when it had happened. What would a child of that age know about violence and justice? As far as his four-year-old mind had been concerned, a pack of wild dogs had attacked and killed Dew, his German shepherd, and in retaliation—to blow that pack into pieces—he had mixed the explosive and tested it on the statue. His father had grounded him for a week because of that, and the wild dogs had migrated away from the hillside—a peaceful escape for them, a week of nonviolent activities for him, and injustice for Dew.

  It had taken him years to regain the balance of his life after Juliette’s death and to find a person who understood him. It had been a lifetime since he was able to fill the void in his soul. And the woman who now completed him was lying on the bed while he stood helpless.

  Ciaran glanced back at the bed and saw bead of sweat run down Madeline’s forehead. He scrambled back to the bed and wiped the sweat away, and her bo
dy began shaking violently as if she was fighting in her dream. He gathered her into his arms and rocked her. If he could take her pain away or fight for her, he would do it.

  The compound had exploded in the lab. He didn’t know how long it had taken the others to find them lying on the dusty floor. The anesthesia in the compound hadn’t agreed with him, and it had taken him hours to regain his consciousness. By the time he awakened, Doctor Thomas was there, telling him there was nothing he could do to wake Madeline.

  Her eyes fluttered and opened. She was back. He needed to control his temper and keep his sanity in check. He rubbed his thumb at the dimple on her left cheek and spoke as gently as he could. “Hello there!”

  She smiled. “How long have I been out?”

  “All night.” Ciaran smiled.

  “And you didn’t sleep?”

  “I didn’t know when you’d wake.” He rubbed at the stubble on his unshaven face and tucked his loose hair back behind his ear. “How are you feeling?”

  “I scared you, didn’t I?”

  “You had a fever. That was all. But you’re okay now.” He checked the temperature on her forehead with the back of his hand.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “What for?”

  “I shouldn’t have insisted on seeing the lab and shouldn’t have smashed that tube.”

  He gazed into her eyes and saw a sea of secrets. She was withholding information from him. “Exactly what did you dream about, Madeline?”

  She grinned. “I saw us having wild sex in the middle of a jungle, and we somehow ended up on a mountain with lots of naked women running around, and you were the only man there. Then we flew like birds and landed on a tropical beach in Asia. I was drinking fresh coconut juice and you were wearing a Hawaiian shirt.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I don’t wear Hawaiian shirts.”

  Madeline laughed. “I feel really good right now and could do with some breakfast. What do you have?”

  “I can make you an omelette.”