Gray crossed his arms, staring out the window. “There’s got to be another way.”
“There isn’t,” Celine refuted. “Not that we have time for, anyway.”
Gray glanced to Alexander and Millie. “You’ve never come across any information about Alterra?” he questioned Alexander.
“I’ve never heard the term until today. I’ve consulted all my references. I’ve found one obscure reference. But enough knowledge to enter and rescue someone from this realm? No, I have nothing to offer. I’m sorry, Gray. If it helps, I hate this plan as much as you do.”
“It doesn’t. What about medically? Is there anything we can do to prolong their lives while we search for information?”
Millie shook her head. “I’m sorry, Gray. There is nothing I can do.”
“How long do we have?” Gray asked.
“I’m not one hundred percent certain, but I’d say days.”
Celine shook her head after Millie delivered the grim news. “They’re dying, Gray. We have no choice.”
“There must be another choice!” Gray argued, resuming his staring out the window.
“What? Tell me? Because if you can’t tell me right now, it’s not an option. We can’t waste any more time. We don’t have the time to waste exploring options! You heard Millie. We have days!”
Gray refused to answer. Celine continued, “When I was missing, Damien risked his life to save me. I must do the same for him.”
“You can’t do this, Celine,” Gray argued.
“I must!” Celine insisted.
“Do you imagine the plan will work?” Alexander asked.
“Yes,” Celine replied.
“We have no assurance this will work. We could end up worse off than we are now,” Gray countered.
“I can’t live with myself if Damien dies, Gray. Or Michael. We must try. We must take the chance.”
“You’re playing with fire, Celine.”
Celine sighed. “I understand how you feel. But I will not gamble with Damien’s life.”
“You’re already gambling.”
“I agree with you, Gray,” Alexander interjected. “It is a huge gamble. However, Celine makes a good point. Damien and Michael WILL die if we do nothing.”
“I don’t propose we do nothing.”
“But we don’t have time, Gray,” Millie replied. “Your plan would be acceptable if those men had weeks or months to live.”
“Millie is correct. The amount of time it would take us to track down and assimilate information far outreaches the amount of time they can survive,” Alexander assessed.
“Damn it,” Gray muttered through clenched teeth.
“For the record, it’s not my favorite plan either. But I don’t see another choice,” Celine stated.
“So, that’s it then,” Gray grumbled.
“I’m sorry, Gray,” Celine responded, staring at him, concern on her face.
“It’s okay, Celine. I understand. I realize what we must do. I don’t like it. I hate it, in fact, but I accept that it must be done. We’re all in agreement then?”
Alexander and Millie nodded.
“Well,” Celine answered, taking a deep breath. “then that’s it. We’re all in agreement. I know what I must do. I must bring back Marcus Northcott.”
Chapter 21
1812, London
Michael eyed the carriage outside the house through the window. “How long is this ride again?”
“Better part of the day,” Gray answered him.
Michael groaned. Gray glanced to him, then Damien. “He hates carriage rides,” Damien informed Gray.
Gray furrowed his brow in confusion. “Hates carriage rides? They are quite convenient and comfortable. Much more so than riding.”
Michael chortled, finding the comment comical. “Are we sure we can’t do this here? Celine’s already in London!”
“If we want her husband and his associates breathing down our necks the entire time, listening at the doors, questioning our sudden interest in paying her calls or the opposite, then yes!” Gray countered.
Michael glanced out of the window again, watching the last of the trunks being loaded onto the carriage. He groaned as he realized they would soon leave.
The coachmen knocked at the front door, telling Gray everything was prepared. “We are ready,” Gray informed them, donning his cloak. Michael and Damien followed suit and exited the house. Michael scowled at the carriage as they approached.
“Come on, buddy, it won’t be that bad. It has to be better than Martinique twenty years ago,” Damien said, passing him and climbing into the carriage.
Michael climbed in behind him. “I still fail to understand on the most epic of levels how you enjoy this.”
Gray joined them, closing the door behind him. He tapped on the window behind him and the coachmen cracked his whip, setting the carriage in motion. The carriage lurched forward, bouncing them around as they began their journey down the cobblestone street.
“Nope,” Michael said with a shake of his head.
“What?” Damien questioned.
“This is no better than Martinique twenty years ago.”
Damien chuckled at him. “Don’t worry, buddy. With any luck, this will all be over soon, and we’ll be home.”
“I will never take my car for granted again,” Michael promised, staring out the window as they turned onto another street. Gray observed the exchange, oblivious to some of what they spoke about. Despite some of their explanations, he failed to understand the full scope of their world. Damien assured him one day he would.
They arrived at the Buckley estate just before dinner. Alexander greeted them as their carriage slowed to a stop. Damien climbed from the carriage behind Gray and Michael. He glanced up at the house. “Oh, wow!” he exclaimed.
“Yeah, weird, right?” Michael said.
“What is?” Alexander inquired.
“It’s just like your house in Maine!” Damien replied.
Alexander stared at him, an odd expression on his face. “I have no house in Maine.”
Michael and Damien glanced at each other. “You do where we’re from. Well, technically, it’s in Massachusetts right now. Maine isn’t a state until 1820,” Damien responded. “Oh, well, nothing else is the same. Why should that be?”
“Well, shall we? Our meal should almost be prepared,” Alexander replied, motioning toward the front door.
“Yes, I’m starving,” Damien responded.
“You are in luck,” Alexander replied. “There is plenty of food prepared. We’ll go straight to the dining room if that’s all right.”
“Okay by me,” Damien responded. Michael nodded in agreement.
As they walked
