Gone: A Shadow Slayers Story (Shadow Slayers Stories Book 3) by Nellie Steele (best books for 20 year olds txt) 📕

upstairs, placing them in the bedrooms they had been using. Millie followed Celine upstairs, checking first on Damien, then Michael. She did a full physical exam on each before discussing their conditions. Celine paced the floor of Damien’s room.

“Try to relax, Celine,” Gray advised. “You’ve been through a lot, too.”

“I can’t,” Celine murmured. “Not now. What have we done to them?” She crawled onto the bed, taking Damien’s hands in hers. A tear fell onto her cheek. “Damien, please be okay.”

Gray rubbed her shoulders. “It’ll be okay, Celine.”

“You don’t know that!” Celine whimpered.

“Come on. He didn’t survive Shadow World and multiple run-ins with the Duke to let a little electrical shock hurt him.”

Celine wiped her tear away, smiling at Gray. “Thanks,” she said as Millie entered the room.

Celine leapt from the bed. “Well?”

“First, welcome home. I have examined both Michael and Damien.”

“And?” Celine demanded.

“They are suffering from the same symptoms. Both are non-responsive. Breathing is normal at this moment. Heart rate was slightly elevated but not significantly. Pupils are equal and reactive. There appear to be no signs of any trauma.”

“What does that mean?” Celine asked.

“I’m not sure of the cause yet, but you said some sort of electric pulse may have hit them?” Millie asked.

“Yes. There was some reaction between one of the attacks Marcus and I launched against each other. It’s never happened before, but it sent some kind of shock wave out. It didn’t seem to affect Celeste, Gray or Alexander, but it sent Marcus and me to Shadow World. I assume it was strong enough to affect a human.”

“I see. Well, so far, there is no sign of anything serious. No breathing or heart trouble, no burns to the skin like you would see in a lightning strike, for example. Perhaps this is a reaction to the pulse. A sort of shock.”

“What can we do? Will he come out of it?”

“I’ve never dealt with this before. Most of your attacks don’t leave your victims this stunned, only a little maimed. But I will continue monitoring both of them. We’ll note any changes, even small ones. In the meantime, we’ll keep them warm to counteract the shock. Stay with them, talk to them.”

“Do you suppose they will wake up?” Celine asked.

“There’s no reason to believe otherwise, Celine,” Millie assured her. “If their vital signs were any cause for concern, I wouldn’t be saying this, but I am optimistic. Sometimes the body does this to protect itself, heal itself.”

Celine wandered to Damien’s bed, sinking onto the bed next to him. “Thanks, Millie,” Gray answered.

“You’re welcome. Call me the moment anything changes. Are we planning on keeping them here?”

“Whatever you judge is best,” Gray replied.

“Let’s not move them for at least twenty-four hours. We’ll reassess then.”

“Fine. I’m sure Alexander won’t mind.”

“Alexander won’t mind what?” Alexander asked, entering the room.

“Millie suggests we don’t move Michael and Damien for at least twenty-four hours.”

“No problem at all. And I assume you three will stay as well?”

Gray glanced to Celine, holding Damien’s hand. “Yes, that would be best,” Gray answered.

“I’ll have the rooms prepared.”

Celine gazed at Damien’s sleeping form. She pulled his blanket a little higher around him. She squeezed his hand. “Damien,” she sniffled. “You’ll be okay. You have to be. I’m so sorry for all of this. If I could take this from you, I would in a heartbeat. You just rest now, relax. Let your body heal itself and then you come back to me.”

Chapter 13

1812, London

Damien rubbed his eyes and peered around again. Confusion clouded his face. He glanced toward Michael, curious to determine if Michael was experiencing the same phenomenon. The puzzled expression on Michael’s face confirmed he was.

“Ah,” Damien began, “are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

Michael cleared his throat before he answered. “Are you seeing horses and buggies, cobblestone streets, people in old-fashioned clothes?”

“Yep,” Damien confirmed.

“Then I’m seeing what you’re seeing.”

Damien whirled toward him. “Okay, that’s good, not great.”

“What?” Michael asked, confused.

“Good that we’re experiencing the same thing. Not great because I have no idea why we’re experiencing this.”

“Me either, how did we get here? Where did we get these clothes? Do you remember changing?” Michael asked, staring down at his nineteenth century garb.

“I don’t. I have no idea how we got here or where we got these clothes. I don’t remember anything about being sent to London,” Damien answered.

“How do you know it’s London?” Michael asked.

Damien pointed to a structure dominating the landscape in the distance. “Buckingham Palace,” Damien said. “Or at least part of it.”

“Oh, right, good catch! It looks different. So, now what?”

“There’s a wing missing, we must be in a time before it’s built. It’s not added until 1847. And no idea! I cannot remember what we’re doing here, can you?”

“Nope. I don’t even remember being sent here.”

“Me either!” Damien exclaimed. “It’s clear we’ve time traveled. But every other time we’ve time traveled, we’ve remembered doing it and what we were here to do. This time I’ve got nothing.”

“I don’t recall anything either. I don’t remember Celine sending us here or what, if anything, she told us to do.”

“Great! That’s just perfect,” Damien shouted, throwing his arms in the air. “Now what? We have no idea when we are or why we’re in London in whatever year this is!”

“Perhaps I can find out from that kid on the corner. He’s selling papers. They must have the date on them, right?”

“Yeah. Good luck. I doubt we have any money to buy the paper from him.” Damien’s face lit up. “Wait! Check your pockets!”

“Why?” Michael asked, already checking his pockets while he waited for a response.

“Celine usually gives us a letter of introduction and some money. If we can find it, perhaps we’ll have a clue as to what we’re doing here,” Damien explained, checking his pockets, too.

“Nothing,” Michael grumbled.

“Me either,” Damien confirmed.

“No money either. So that’s just great. Okay, let me try to get the date at least. Perhaps that will jar something in our memories.”

“Good luck,” Damien called after him as