Lucky Stars (Ghosts and Reincarnation #5)(168)

Racing to his children.

* * * * *

Caleb

Caleb Caldwell’s body swayed violently and he blinked.

Then he felt it.

Rain pummelling his skin.

Earth beneath his feet.

He looked down.

Earth beneath his feet, solid, real, right there.

He was not in Bennett’s brother.

He was real.

He was himself.

He was back.

His head shot up and his eyes focused on the drifting fog, seeing James Bennett racing through it toward The Point.

Caleb smiled.

Then he raced after him.

* * * * *

Angus

“Dude, you okay? Dude? Angus? Angus?”

Jensen was shaking him. Angus, head foggy and killing him, blinked, feeling thick moisture on his face as he pushed up.

“God, man, God! I can’t find any f**king phones and, dude, you totally need an ambulance.”

Angus heard his voice, saw his shadow but it penetrated that the room he was in and beyond was dark.

Then he remembered.

“The other,” he whispered.

Jensen ignored his whisper and ranted on. “Something’s whacked, man. Whacked. I found those girls, the woman, you know, the servants. They were asleep, dude. Asleep. All piled on top of each other in a corner in a room off the kitchen. Nothin’ I could do would wake ‘em, Angus. They… were… out.”

“The other,” Angus repeated on a whisper.

“What?” Jensen asked.

He tried to focus on the man’s shadow. “The other.”

“You’re f**ked up, dude. You got a head wound. Sit tight, I’m gonna –”

His hand darting out, with fierce strength he latched onto Jensen Abbot’s forearm.

“There is another,” he declared, his voice getting stronger. “A partner. A woman. A witch. Belle’s in danger.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. My baby girl has disappeared. The dogs –”

Swiftly, ignoring the lightening in his head that caused him to sway slightly, Angus got to his feet.

“Let’s go,” he stated, moving toward the shadowed door.

“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!”