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“Enough, children! We didn’t come here to bandy words. Benedict, we have news. Emile, Abigail, and our wives have been scouring the libraries in our homes. We found some information at DeLacy park and some in Eléonore Castle. Please take a seat. I am afraid it’s disturbing,” Tristian said, eyeing the three combatants.
“What did you find, Your Grace?” Benedict asked, and Tristian frowned.
“Preferred it when you called me Russell. Stop showing off for your woman. She knows exactly what you are!” Tristian shot back.
Before Mariah or Benedict could formulate a reply, Tristian continued, “None of the Nortons returned from their inns. That night all six of you disappeared from memory and written history. Because Eléonore Castle and DeLacy Park are, shall we say, different, their accounts weren’t wiped. But we didn’t know which inns the Nortons owned. We only know of you because Melisandre discovered you and realised who or what you were.”
“How did she know who I am?” Benedict demanded, his mind unwilling to deal with Tristian’s revelation.
Mariah reached up and took his hand, and Benedict clung to it.
“Melisandre recognised your dress and surmised it was a similar situation to the Rakehell Six. We can only make vague assumptions at this point, Benedict. We believe, all of us, that the Nortons faced something dreadful that evening. Evil lurked in each of your inns, intent on bringing you all down. But it backfired. We think because of your existence. Should we solve the puzzle keeping you trapped, you may return to life and lead us to one of your siblings,” Tristian said calmly.
Mariah sat stunned. What would that mean for Mariah’s home and the Black Cat? Would he claim his rightful place?
“How many Nortons remain?” Benedict inquired.
The three Rakehell Six exchanged glances and appeared uncomfortable. Mariah stiffened, knowing bad news was about to hit Benedict.
“None. They all passed in mysterious accidents. God’s Scourge no longer walks the earth. The last Norton died one hundred and fifty years ago,” Tristian replied gently.
Mariah jumped as Benedict leapt away from her.
“Evil grows unchecked in the outside world?” he exclaimed.
“It appears to be so. We could discover no mention of any family who acted like yours. That is not to say they don’t exist, but of the Nortons, none remain. Not even in another country. They, I am sorry, appear to have been tracked down and killed,” St John ventured cautiously.
Mariah watched as Benedict’s solid form flickered, and she knew he was fighting. And at that moment, she was thankful for the amulet he wore helping him. The witches had timed their gift perfectly. Benedict wrestled his emotions back under control as Mariah waited.
“You believe the night we disappeared was intended to trap or kill us all? Even CeeCee?”
“Yes. But whatever the plan was, you all appear to have stopped it,” Daniel said.
“But the Nortons were destroyed. My line was the strongest because of our direct lineage. The cousins, etcetera, were more diluted,” Benedict explained.
“Possibly,” St John replied. “It is likely they stepped up in your absence. But being removed from memory and history, they might not have known about you.”
“So we damned ourselves by saving innocents?” Benedict asked with a hint of bitterness.
Mariah looked up, feeling his pain and anguish. Benedict paced back and forth as he chewed over the information.
“What else?” he finally demanded.
“Wollscombe is missing,” St John spoke.
What on earth is that? Mariah wondered.
“I’m sorry. Did you say she’s missing?” Benedict asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Daniel affirmed.
“How the hell does one lose a huge building?” Benedict inquired mildly.
That wasn’t a good sign. Mariah reached for Benedict, but he sidestepped her hand as he stared at the men.
“Our homes disappeared, Corelle Abbey was lost in a valley of fog, and Waverley Hall was a ruin that nobody knew about. Eléonore Castle herself was made invisible against anyone seeing her. We, too, have experienced this,” Tristian said.
“Yet, Black Duke, you stand before me, three centuries old and alive. It is a situation I would dearly like to understand. We were not friends, not even allies. We were two rival groups. Why would you offer me information? What do you gain from it? Pleasure at my pain?” Benedict snarled.
