Jack straightened and tried to control his thoughts, his breathing and the burn in his gut.
Angus moved in to release Miles from the last of his bonds.
“I know it doesn’t seem good but we have a warning,” Lachlan said low at his side. “It’s always good to have a warning, mate. We’ll be prepared.”
Jack didn’t feel good about this. Not any part of it.
In fact, he felt a burning in his gut that stated quite plainly that something was very wrong.
His eyes drifted to the space Caldwell’s spirit inhabited moments before.
Then he took in a calming breath and looked to his brother who had shifted to sit on the side of the bed, leaned forward, elbows to his thighs.
“How do you feel?” he asked and Miles tilted his head back to look at his brother.
“Like I feel the morning after I’ve had way too much lager, about the same amount of vodka and washed that all down with a kebab that had a side order of grease,” Miles answered.
“Far from pleasant,” Jack told him. “But at least you’re no longer harbouring the spirit of a man who murdered women and children.”
One side of Miles’s lips moved up as he muttered, “Silver lining.”
“What’s one and one?” Cassandra asked.
Miles sat up and twisted to look over the bed at her.
“Two,” he replied.
“Your name?” she asked.
“Miles Bennett,” he answered.
“Is it wrong to eat babies?” she asked and Miles muttered, “Jesus. Are you serious?”
Cassandra nodded, her face grave.
“Yes, bloody hell, yes, it’s wrong to eat babies,” Miles answered then twisted back and looked up at Jack before sharing, “This is f**king insane.”
“And unfortunately it’s not f**king over,” Jack replied then took in another deep breath before he said Belle’s words of weeks before. “But at least that’s one thing down.”
Miles grinned, pushed up from the bed and swayed until Jack’s hand shot out and caught his. Palm to palm, his fingers tight around the side of his brother’s hand, he held strong until Miles steadied.
And he still held strong when Miles again caught his eye.
“All right?” Jack asked quietly, looking deep into his brother’s blue eyes.
Miles took in a breath, took a moment then he nodded. “All right.”
“All right,” Jack repeated and gave his brother’s hand a jerk before letting it go.
“Jack?” Miles called and Jack looked at him again. “Nothing will happen to Belle. We’ll all look after her. It’ll be fine.”
Jack kept hold of his brother’s eyes a long moment before he nodded, hoping to God Miles was right.
Then he turned away and said to no one, “I’m getting a whisky. Then I’m getting in my car and getting Belle and my dogs. If you want a whisky, you better follow me because I won’t be taking time over mine.”
And on that, he walked out of the room with five people following him.
* * * * *
“Good dogs,” Jack murmured as both dogs came to him on the landing of Belle’s cottage but neither woofed their greeting.
Jack gave them quick but loving scratches then walked directly to Belle’s room. He moved to the side of the bed and saw her through the shadows sleeping in the middle. The moon was waning, the night dark, her wispy curtains closed. There was little light so all he could see was that she was on her side facing his side of the bed and she had her knees curled slightly toward her belly.
But seeing her peaceful, he decided he’d not wake her and take her home but instead join her in bed here.
Before he did that, he had three things to do.
“Stay with Belle,” he whispered to his dogs and they settled in on their bellies on Belle’s side of the bed.
Moving back out, he carefully closed the door so as not to make any sound. Then he moved across the landing into the living room and closed that door.
Once in, he pulled out his phone and made his first call.
“All right, lad?” Angus answered after one ring.
“Go over everything, Angus, all of you. Every piece of information, go back to every person you talked to, bring in more witches, clairvoyants, soothsayers, I don’t give a f**k what you have to do. Find out what he did. Find it out and find a way to stop it,” Jack commanded.
“Already on it, Jack,” Angus replied. “We got the whisky and we got our stuff spread out in your dining room. Miles feels crap but still, he’s in with Cassandra now. She’s going to hypnotise him. See if he can pull up any memories of his blank spots.”
“Good,” Jack returned, disconnected without a good-bye and made his next call.
On ring four he heard a sleepy, “Jesus, Bennett, it’s after one in the morning.”
Jack didn’t delay.
“Tonight, Dempsey, I had a f**king conversation with the f**king ghost of f**king Caleb Caldwell.”
Dempsey was silent for a moment before he replied, “I’m guessing with your ample usage of the word ‘fucking’ this conversation didn’t go well.”
“No, it did not.”
“Do I want to know how you managed to have a conversation with a man who’s been dead for two hundred years?” Dempsey asked.
“Considering your profession, I can only assume your level of curiosity is elevated beyond that of others so yes, you probably would like to know. You also probably wouldn’t believe a bloody word I said.”
“I’m hanging in there with this supernatural shit, mate,” Dempsey reminded him.
“And you’re getting paid to do just that,” Jack’s reminded Dempsey then he went on, “Tonight, Caldwell shared he’s put some plan into action and whatever it is has already begun. And whatever it is puts Belle in danger. And before you ask, that would be mortal danger considering he declared her body will be broken by rock and sea.”
“Jesus,” Dempsey muttered.
“Indeed,” Jack clipped. “You told me there was nothing more to learn that would be of consequence, you’ve gone over it all. I want you to do it again and dig deeper.”
“Bennett, firstly, crazy as your story is, half of me believes it. The coincidences are too stark for there not to be some truth in this.”
“I’m obliged you think so, Dempsey, but, no offence, I also don’t give a f**k if you believe. Right now –”
Dempsey cut him off, “I wasn’t done. I just wanted you to know I don’t think you’re entirely mad.”