“Dude, you need to –”
Angus whirled to him, his kilt twirling. “Jensen, let’s go.”
Then he turned back and ran to and through the door, not waiting to see if Jensen followed.
Belle
“Please turn that off,” Belle whispered, pressing into a corner of a room, her head foggy and killing her, blinking against the light from the torch being shined into her face, feeling thick moisture dribbling through the hair on the side of her head.
“Yes, you’re pretty. Very pretty,” she whispered back and it was so dark, her head muddled from the blow, the torchlight blinding her, Belle couldn’t see her. She couldn’t even see what room she was in.
“I need to –” she started.
“I knew, of course, I saw your pictures in the paper, all of them. But he told me. Again and again and again and again how pretty you were. Prettier than me. Better than me. Your eggs were the best in the world. Your hair was so soft, such a pretty colour. Your eyes, so grey, so beautiful. Your clothes so fashionable. And you designed them. You. The Tiny Dynamo. His beautiful Belle. His beautiful, sweet, perfect Belle who could do… no… wrong.”
“Who are you?” Belle whispered, knowing, whoever she was, she was insane.
She shined the light in Belle’s face, Belle blinking at the light and the throbbing in her head and this went on for long moments before she finally whispered her answer.
“I’m nobody.”
Baron, Gretl and Shadow
Having beaten down his stall door, Shadow galloped through the stables and proceeded to hammer at the stable doors with his hooves as now both Baron and Gretl barked loud and howled louder.
The latch no match for Shadows powerful blows, it gave way and both doors swung open.
Without hesitation, all three animals burst into the dark, stormy night.
Jack/Joshua
Joshua raced up the turret taking the stone steps two at a time. He rounded the curving stairwell to the landing and both of his children’s eyes came to him.
But there was something wrong with them.
He could see through them.
“Jack, no!” Lewis cried, his son’s eyes on him, wide and horrified.
But he didn’t falter as he charged to them. They floated, yes, floated away from him, across the landing, their young bodies slamming into what appeared to be an invisible barrier behind them so when he raced across the landing they were easy to catch.
And catch them he did. Dropping to his knees, he swung his long arms out to the sides and curled them around their wee bodies.
Bodies that solidified instantly at his touch, coming real, forming flesh, so when Joshua held his children to him, he felt their warmth against his frame and more, they felt the power of his.
“Oh my gracious, Lewis,” Myrtle breathed.
“You’re safe,” Joshua whispered, pulling them closer.
“Belle,” Lewis whispered back, Joshua’s head came up and he looked to his son.
“Lewis?” he questioned.
“Belle,” Lewis repeated in a whisper then louder, “Belle.” Then Joshua watched his son’s eyes dart over his shoulder and he shouted, “Poppa!”
Joshua released them, got to his feet and whirled just as Caleb Caldwell hit the landing, his arms swinging out, both his hands wrapped around a thick, heavy candlestick and he struck.
Belle
“Sick of it,” the madwoman whispered as Belle pulled herself together and it occurred to her hazy brain she should get the heck out of there. “Sick of hearing it. Sick of feeling it. Sick of it!”
“I –” Belle started just as she started to edge along the wall to escape but suddenly of its own accord, her body locked.
Then she blinked.
And when she opened her eyes, she was no longer Belle.
She was Brenna.
And her children and Joshua were in danger.
So without hesitation, her mind clear, the pain in her scalp dulled, her legs moved to start racing toward the door.
She only got two steps before she was caught, shoved back and she hit the wall.
She stared at the shadowy woman who stood before her.
“Let me pass,” she demanded and for her words she felt the sharp sting of a slap on her cheek and her head jerked violently to the side as the woman struck her.
“You’ve spoken enough over the years, Belle Abbot, and you weren’t even there. Now, I get to do the talking,” the woman said to her.
Brenna ignored this lunacy, one thing on her mind and started again toward the door but did not get very far before the woman again was upon her. She shoved, she pushed, they grappled and kicked.
“Why are you doing this!” she cried as she struggled. “Let me pass! My husband and children need me.”
“I don’t care!” Came the demented shriek in response as Brenna was viciously shoved away.
She lost control of her limbs and reeled back but, with effort, she remained standing only to see the woman had grabbed hold of something and was coming her way swiftly, arm raised.
She was close, there wasn’t time to escape so Brenna cowered and lifted her arms to deflect the blow.
The woman didn’t make it because Joshua’s two Alsatians came barking and snarling into the room. Baron leaped through the air and landed on the woman, knocking her sideways. Then the dog kept at her as Gretl came darting to Brenna then retreating quickly to the door, darting back to Brenna and to the door again, whining.
“You know where they are,” Brenna whispered.
Gretl woofed softly.
“Take me,” Brenna urged, Gretl took off out the door with Brenna racing after her.
Racing to her husband and children.
Angus
With Jensen at his heels, Angus turned the corner to the stairwell of the eastern turret and he slammed full body into Jack Bennett.
He wheeled back two feet and stared at the shadowy figures.
No, not just Jack.
Jack holding Myrtle firm to his hip with one arm, his other hand engulfing in a strong grip the hand of Lewis.
Both the children were real. Not phantoms.
Real.
“Now this is one in all my years I’ve never seen,” he muttered, eyeing the apparently alive and breathing children.
“Holy fuck,” Jensen muttered behind him.
“Caldwell’s on the stairwell,” Jack informed them and Angus shook off his surprise as Jack strode forward, through and beyond the two men. “I need to get my children to safety and find my wife.”
“Your children?” Angus asked, following him and looking at him closely, or, more accurately, looking at his broad, soaking wet, dinner-suit-jacketed back.
“Your wife?” Jensen asked, following Angus.
Jack stopped and turned with the children.
“I need a safe place for the children so I can find my wife,” he clipped.
“Uh, right, lad,” Angus muttered.
Wife, children, they were not dealing with Jack.
They had Joshua.
Well, at least he’d seen this before.
Angus turned to Jensen. “Where’s Lila?”
“Drawing room,” Jenson answered.
Angus looked back to Jack or, he was guessing, Joshua. “Lila will keep them safe.”