Page 95 of Eternal Obsession

“Typical bachelor pad,” she remarked.

After Ingrid had eaten, she returned to where the bedrooms were situated, looking for my room. She soon found it, just a few doors down from the room in which she was staying. She recognized my tailored suits hanging in the wardrobe. For a moment, she felt a little guilty intruding in such a way, but then something caught her eye—an old book resting on my secretaire.

Upon closer inspection, she discovered it was a book of poetry. It looked as old as the ones in the library. Gently she picked it up, opening the front page. Inside, she found a letter, written on what appeared to be very worn paper. Carefully she unraveled it, noticing some of the edges crumble away as she did so. Placing the book back down on the secretaire, she read the words:

The year of our Lord 1797

My darling Jadeon, as you know, the decision I have made has not been easy. To become a bride of Christ is something I have given much thought to over the years. I am aware of your feelings for me. Know that I share the same love for you, but I have made a promise to God and cannot break it. I know that you understand, or will come to, as God will guide you to your destiny. Know this, I will always love you and will pray for you every morning when I awake and in the evening when I go to sleep. You are my brother and will be forever safe within my heart.

Yours forever and in God,

Catherine

“Now that’s what I call romantic.” Ingrid then realized there were two pages. They were almost stuck together, but she could not resist peeking to see what was written on the other letter. As she pried the other piece of paper away from the first, she realized it was not a letter but a drawing. She gasped. The sketch on the page was of a likeness to me that was again uncanny. It was my face looking up at her, drawn beside the image of a beautiful young girl. The drawing was signed Alex, 1796.

Gently sliding the letter and drawing back into the book, Ingrid placed it again on the writing desk as she had found it. She climbed onto the comfy four-poster bed.

Ingrid laughed. “I have solved the mystery. Jadeon is over two hundred years old.” She snuggled into the soft blankets. “This place is a trove of the strange and wonderful. And I love it so much.”

She fell asleep.

Reassured that Ingrid had settled into my room, I too allowed myself the luxury of sleep and soon drifted off.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

ORPHEUS

I loomed over her.

Every time I drew near to Ingrid, it was as though the world tilted subtly, imperceptibly, caught in the gravity of a face so achingly familiar it stirred the hollows of memory. Her beauty, delicate and devastating, shimmered like a half-remembered dream at the edge of waking.

All that aside, she was painfully useful.

Ingrid awoke with a start.

Taking in her surroundings, she reoriented herself. She was alone. Ingrid checked her watch—1630 hours. She had slept the day away, not surprising as the forensic course had left her haunted, each lesson a toll on her spirit. Having reviewed the endless evidence of humanity’s darkest depths, she began to understand that peace is not a right, but a privilege, one she had forfeited the moment she chose to see too much.

But still, it exhausted her.

Stepping out of Jadeon’s bedroom, Ingrid called out his name. On hearing nothing but an unearthly silence she headed off to look for him. Walking to the top of the central stairway she paused for a moment, listening. A noise caught her attention, rising up from the lower chambers. Descending the stairs, she again passed by that familiar painting with its uncanny likeness to Jadeon and Alex. She shuddered in response to the freezing breeze. It felt as though someone had just opened a door.

She continued into the main foyer of the castle. Hearing the noise again she walked in its direction, discovering a clandestine doorway leading down a dark, stone stairwell. The light in the corridor dimmed. She descended and shivered. She found it difficult to distinguish whether it was through the lowering of the castle’s temperature or her wariness. Goose bumps rose up on her skin.

“Hello?” she called out.

She continued down, arriving at yet another corridor leading to what appeared to be a long line of cells at the end of it. Intrigued, she was keen to view the ancient prisons. On approaching the bastilles she detected an unpleasant damp mustiness. Peering in at each of the cells, all similar, Ingrid was enthralled.

Reaching the end of the hallway she touched the stone wall, running her fingers over its cold rough surface then turning, headed back the way she had come. She observed how it appeared even scarier at this end of the long passageway.

Ingrid reflected for a moment how frightened those imprisoned here must have felt. She glanced again into one of the cells, noticing the rusty shackles upon the wall. Fascinated, she entered the cell, eager to view them.

She examined the shackle. A noise of grating stone in the darkness startled her.

She froze. “Hello?” Ingrid listened. Only quietness now. Sensing a presence again, she called out. “Jadeon?”

“No,” I replied from the blackness.

“Alex?”