Chapter 1
December 1966. New York.
Ciaran frowned at the bustling streets and the ocean of people rushing about their business and preparing for the festive season.
On Earth and in the multiverse, the atmosphere and spirit of this significant event was the same, although people might refer to the event by different names, depending on their culture and beliefs.
It didn’t matter how long Ciaran and Madeline had been away from Earth—human traditions were still ingrained in them. And for both, Christmas was a time to celebrate.
Their family, their lives, and the entire meaning of their existence now resided in Eudaiz, a universe far away from Earth. And things were different in Eudaiz.
Different time.
Different space.
Different species.
But Ciaran realized now that even the holiday season meant different things.
For him, it meant he’d finish up the matter in this king's court and postpone his meeting with the king of another universe so he could go home early.
For Madeline, it encompassed the whole package of everything that carried the meaning of the event. That included a real pine tree from Earth, presents, wrapping gifts, children's wish lists, a Christmas menu, and many other items he had never heard of.
But he never thought Madeline's preparations were so overwhelming that they might distract her and cause her to make a critical error.
He had left a message for her in the morning about some possible unstable weather that day and asked her to avoid traveling if she could help it. He was annoyed when she dispatched a capsule, their mini private spaceship, to pick up a parcel instead of sending staff to do it.
By the time he received a report confirming the definite occurrence of the crossworld storm, Madeline was already well en route. She was careful enough not to get too close to the path of the oblivion wormhole. But she hadn't received the storm report and didn’t see its trajectory. As soon as Ciaran knew the communication system of her spaceship was down, he dispatched his own private capsule.
He came for her.
He was fast.
But he wasn’t fast enough.
The storm hit Madeline’s capsule. She discharged an emergency jet, which should have given her some protection. But the jet exploded, and she was thrown outside. Ciaran had only enough time to shoot a tracking device at her shoulder from a distance before she vanished into the eye of the storm.
She was lost, but alive. She was somewhere in the multiverse, waiting for him to bring her home. That was the only consequence of the event that Ciaran would accept.
And the tracking device confirmed his prediction.
It found live signals and had guided him here—back to Earth, New York, in the year 1966.
He hadn’t been born in 1966. But the advantage of traveling to the past was that he could use Eudaizian technology and data access to gain some advantage.
Ciaran hid his capsule in a wing of the dimensional gateway and stepped outside the portal into the freezing air of a New York winter.
Ordinary humans couldn’t see the portal, let alone his crossing the gateway to the multiverse. He glanced at a nearby landmark and made a mental note of where he'd parked. Then he headed up the main street.
The only piece of technology he had on him right now was his wrist unit. The device was small, but it was powerful enough to give him what he needed to operate outside Eudaiz.
The tracker suggested that Madeline was with the Taylors, an ordinary human family who had never interacted with supernaturals before.
Ciaran used the databank in his wrist unit to search for relevant background information about the family and then simulated a set of credentials for himself so he had a logical reason for approaching them. He then converted multiversal currency into USD and grabbed some essential items of clothing and located a car. In no time, he was ready to approach the Taylors.
As he approached the imposing mansion at the top of a hill, Ciaran glanced again at his supposed credentials on the wrist unit to memorize the basic information.
He might be a king in Eudaiz, but in New York in 1966, he was nobody. He needed to be extra careful. He hadn’t informed anyone that he had left. That meant he had no assistance, and if anything went wrong, the consequences could be disastrous.
But he didn’t plan to be away for long. He’d bring Madeline home before anyone even knew about what happened.
Ciaran rang the doorbell.
after a few moments, the heavy oak door opened.
In front of him stood Madeline with her usual gracious smile. Her gorgeous brown eyes twinkled with joy. Her long brunette hair, curving around her shoulders, swung lightly with her movements.
“Yes, may I help you?”
“Madeline!”
She smiled. “Oh no, I’m Maggie, her twin sister. But don’t worry. Even our parents can’t tell us apart.”
“I apologize.” Ciaran could tell the difference. Maggie didn’t have the dimple on her left cheek like Madeline, if his Madeline looked the same in this reality.
“And you are?”
“I’m Ciaran—”
“Ah, Mr. Leblanc. You’re the private investigator my father’s expecting.”
“Right … sure. I mean, yes, he’s expecting me.”
“Come on in.”
“I just recalled I have another piece of information your father might find useful. It’s in my car. I’ll be right back.”
Ciaran rushed back around the corner and activated the databank in his wrist unit to dig a bit deeper into the business and the role he planned to play. Then, confident he had enough information to proceed with his cover, he headed back to the Taylors' mansion.
When he returned, Ciaran was greeted by Brandon Taylor’s secretary.
The Taylors operated a large antique trading business. Ciaran had had some experience with this type of dealing before, so he didn't think it would be difficult to have an intelligent conversation with them.
Behind a tall, heavy wooden door was Brandon’s office. The furniture and the decor had been designed to make an obvious statement about the family's wealth. Ciaran reminded himself that he was a private investigator, working for clients to make a living.
“Ciaran Leblanc,” Brandon motioned Ciaran to a chair with a gesture and a smile. “You’re new to the Elite Investigator group, I assume.”
“Yes, Mr. Taylor. I’m new to the group but not to the business.”
“Oh? Where did you work before?”
Ciaran cursed under his breath. He was a businessman of the highest caliber, and old habits die hard—he couldn’t act like just another private investigator working for money.
“That’s great to know. I like diversity.”
Ciaran smiled, thinking it might be the best and safest reaction for now.
“So, Ciaran—may I call you Ciaran?”
“Please do.”
“This is the usual deal I have with the Elite group—I want this to be discreet.”
“Of course.”
“Last month, the piece of precious merchandise you found for us was fake.”
“Excuse me?”
“No, no, it’s not your fault. You based your find on the specs I gave you. So that’s my fault. I didn’t even know it was fake until last week. But the problem is, since then, another piece has been stolen, and that’s why you’re here.”
Ciaran nodded. “So you want to trace your stolen item and find out who swapped the fake merchandise last time.”
Brandon leaned back in his chair and took a slow drag on his cigar, watching the smoke curl lazily toward the ceiling. “How do you know it was swapped?”
“Not only was it swapped, but it would also have to be an inside job. You told me you gave Elite the merchandise specs. With your experience, I think you could tell if the merchandise was fake. And considering the caliber of your business, I know security is your top priority. So the swapping of items valuable enough to warrant your attention could only be done from the inside.”
Brandon's eyes rested on Ciaran for several seconds. It was a long stare, but when it came to staring games, Ciaran usually won. Now it was Ciaran’s turn to lean back in his chair.
“Are there other issues you'd like to discuss, Mr. Taylor?”
Brandon nodded. “How close is your partnership with Elite?”
“Nothing’s permanent. Do you suspect them?”
Brandon shrugged. “There are only three people who have direct access to the merchandise—Madeline, Ethan, and Jeremy.”
“I’m sorry, but Elite didn’t give me a detailed brief about the executive roles within your company.”
“They wouldn’t know. We don’t publicize that information. That’s why they assumed any of the three executives could organize the swap of the merchandise. But that's impossible because we’re family. Why would we steal from ourselves?”
“Family?”
“Yes. I’m sure you know Madeline is my daughter.”
“Of course.”
“Ethan’s my son-in-law. I mean, if the accident hadn't happened, he would have been my son-in-law by now. And Jeremy is Ethan’s brother. But now that Madeline’s back, they’ll get married soon. So tell me, why would we steal from ourselves?”
“It’s really hard to tell, Mr. Taylor.”
“You can call me Brandon.”
“So Madeline was in an accident and has just recovered?”
“Yes, she was in a coma for two weeks. She just came back to us last week, thank God!”
“May I ask the nature of the accident?”
“It was a car accident. Ethan and Madeline went to a theater, and it happened on their way back.”
“When was the previous merchandise stolen?”
“The week before the accident.”
“You said Madeline came out of the coma last week. When was the most recent theft?”
“Last week. You don’t—”
“No, of course I don’t suspect Madeline. She’s your daughter. But regarding the soon-to-be in-laws, I'm not so sure.”
“Would you consider investigating this for me independently from Elite, Ciaran?”
“Yes, I would.”
“Thank you. Our remunerations are very generous. I can sign an exclusive agreement with you, guaranteeing your stream of work. I can even pay retaining fees…”
“Let me take this one case and see if we're a good fit first.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll need to talk to Madeline. And you may have to give me some kind of cover other than that of an investigator. Otherwise, I won't be able to get Ethan and Jeremy to talk.”
“How about an evaluator from the bank? I’ll get you the paperwork and relevant information.”
“That’s perfect.”
Ciaran stood. “I’d like to meet with Madeline now. Can you please let her know to expect me?”
Chapter 2
The harsh winter didn’t stop vibrant New York City from going about its business. The roads snaked through the hills and ran toward the east end of the city. It didn’t take long to travel from the Taylors’ main estate to Madeline’s residence.
Unlike her sister Maggie, Madeline didn’t live with her parents. From what Ciaran could gather, Maggie wasn’t keen about the family business, leaving Madeline to handle all the business affairs. Their mother had passed a couple years ago, and the father looked like he was planning to retire. That left Madeline Taylor in charge of the entire family’s business.
But that was Madeline Taylor’s life he was thinking about. He was here to take his wife, Madeline Leblanc, home. Soon, he would tell her just that.
He didn’t know what the consequences to her life here would be after he brought her back to Eudaiz, where she belonged. But he couldn’t afford to spend time thinking about possible scenarios before he saw for himself what Madeline Taylor was like.
What happened with the two versions of Madeline made logical sense to him. In this reality, Madeline Taylor had been in an accident, and Ciaran supposed she wasn’t meant to regain consciousness. She had come out of her coma only because his Madeline had been flung out of her orbit in his Eudaizian reality.
So he was here to inform his wife about the accident, explain the process of time and dimension travel to her, and then convince her to go home with him. They had been to hell and back together. In a way, this was simply another mission.
Ciaran parked his car and pulled out the file Brandon had given him about the household and the business. It didn’t take a lot of investigative work to see that the Taylor’s business was being manipulated by the in-laws. Brandon seemed to be quite sharp, and Ciaran was surprised he couldn't see this.
Systematically, Ciaran ran through the list of Madeline Taylor’s staff. Gardener, cook, housekeeper, daily maid. He was astonished. This Madeline probably wouldn’t know how to boil an egg if her life depended on it.
When they'd lived on Earth, the Leblancs had enough money to buy half of England. In Eudaiz, a universe of a multibillion citizens, he was king, and she was his first councillor. Eudaiz’s wealth of resources made all the other universes want to either invade or form an alliance with it. Anyone who knew about Eudaiz wanted to live there. Madeline had the best resources and assistance at her disposal.
Yet, she took care of the children herself. She ran the household errands herself. She raised the children and tried to give them an Earthly education. She was rushing around to prepare for Christmas—and had been thrown into the storm.
Ciaran thought he had given his family the best care. He thought he was a good husband. But now he wasn’t sure.
Was his love enough?
His Madeline would say that it was all that mattered.
But was it really?
The gates to Madeline Taylor’s estate stood open, with room enough for two cars to easily pass through. Ciaran drove along the white gravel driveway. There was a burst of birdsong, then silence. He drove nearly a quarter of a mile before pulling up in front of the house.
Ciaran walked up the steps to the front door and knocked.
The door opened, and he looked down at a petite, middle-aged woman with a harsh face.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Ciaran Leblanc. Miss Taylor’s expecting me.”
The woman looked him up and down, then stepped aside to allow him to enter.
As the door closed behind him, Ciaran glanced around the foyer. The blond oak was tasteful and elegant. There was minimal artwork on the walls, and no wallpaper. That was a surprise, given the business and the wealth of the family.
Ciaran started to turn back to the housekeeper when a clatter at the top of the steps caught his attention. Madeline came barreling down the staircase in a flurry of long, swirling hair and flying skirt: a storm of energy. Realizing Ciaran was in her way, she tried to spin away from him, but she overbalanced. Ciaran reached for her arm to steady her. This was exactly how they had met in England.
Breathless, she raised her eyes from the front of his shirt to stare at him.
In front of him was Madeline.
But this was not necessarily his Madeline.
The physical appearance was identical. But the aura around her, the energy, and the way she looked at him were totally different. The light perfume she was wearing was definitely not Madeline’s preferred scent. The needle heels and flowing skirt were not Madeline’s style.
Madeline Leblanc dressed for him. For them. The scent she wore blended with her emotions. The clothes she selected suggested the way she wanted them to be intimate for the night. It didn’t matter how long they had been together—every time they were together was a new experience.
Madeline Taylor dressed for someone else.
This woman wasn’t his wife.
He hastily dropped his hand.
“This is Mr. Leblanc,” the housekeeper announced.
“Oh, yes. Daddy said you were coming. You’re evaluating our assets and books for our upcoming business credit renewal.”
“Yes, Ms. Taylor.”
“Call me Madeline, please. And may I call you Ciaran?”
“Yes, of course.”
She stepped backward toward the door. “Look, I’m sorry to rush off the minute you get here, but I had to be at a meeting ten minutes ago.” Tilting her wrist, she grimaced at her watch.
“Don’t worry about it. Just show me where the documentation and paperwork is, and I’ll work my way through it. I’ll see you when you get back.”
“Yes, about the paperwork.” She gestured upstairs. “It’s in my office. It’s usually quite tidy. But I was off duty for a bit, and the papers need some reorganization. If you try to go through the paperwork now, I doubt you’ll make much progress. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable and take a tour around the house? I’ll work through this with you when I return.”
“I heard about the accident. I'm sorry to hear about that but am glad to see that you’re now recovered. I can wait, Madeline. But I'm happy to give it a head start if you’re comfortable with me doing so.”
She bit her bottom lip while she thought it over, and then she nodded. “All right. It’s all upstairs. But you've been warned—it’s a bit of a mess at the moment.”
“At least he can help by carrying those gigantic piles of paper around, because that won’t do your shoulder any good,” the housekeeper suddenly interjected.
“Susan, I can manage.”
“Maybe, but your shoulder is complaining, and I’ll keep nagging until you get the doctor to look at it.”
Madeline smiled at Ciaran and tugged the shoulder of her cashmere sweater up. “She’s exaggerating. It’s kind of like a bee sting. I put some lotion on it. It'll go away in no time.”
“How long have you had it?” Ciaran frowned.
“She came home from the hospital like that. It was fine until it swelled up and turned shades of red and purple a couple of days ago.”
“Susan!”
“It sounds like an infection. I can take a look if you want?”
Madeline chuckled. “I thought you were a banker.”
“I used to own a pharmaceutical company. I’ve had medical training.”
“But I’m really late!” She pointed at the door, wincing when she raised her left arm.
“An untreated infection might cost you your beautiful arm, Madeline. No business is going to make up for that,” he said.
“My arm, my call,” she said and turned to leave.
“Please, Madeline!” Susan's voice was hard. “Just this once, for this old woman!”
Madeline sighed. “Oh, all right.”
She turned so that the back of her left shoulder faced Ciaran and pulled down her sweater.
On her left shoulder was a puncture wound with four small legs pointing out from the center—the distinctive shape of the tracking device he had shot at Madeline. The tracker itself was not intrusive, but because he had triggered the strongest search signals when he was looking for her, it must have jolted her body's defense mechanism. In other words, her body had discovered the foreign object and was now rejecting it.
Madeline pulled her cashmere sweater back up and turned around. “Ciaran, whatever infection I might have can't possibly be as bad as the way you look right now.”
He smiled at her. “I’m sorry. It’s actually not bad at all. Nothing a painkiller won't help.”
“See? Can I go now, ma’am?” Madeline smiled at Susan. “Thanks for your help, Ciaran.”
“No worries. I’ll see you when you get back.”
She waved goodbye and rushed out.
“I can find my way around.” Ciaran headed upstairs before the housekeeper could object. All his thoughts about pulling Madeline into his arms and taking her back to Eudaiz with him before supper had evaporated.
He was confused.
If the mind of his wife somehow resided in Madeline Taylor’s body, why didn’t she recognize him?
If the tracker was faulty, it could possibly have led him to the wrong person because of her identical resemblance to his wife.
But if that was the case, then was he looking in the wrong place? Was his Madeline by herself somewhere in the oblivion?
If his wife’s mind existed in the body of Madeline Taylor, and she was trapped in this reality and could never return to Eudaiz, wouldn’t he ruin both of her worlds by letting her know?
And what about their children?
What about the life they had shared together? The reality they had shed blood, sweat, and tears to build?
What about all the sacrifices they and others had made to build Eudaiz?
Hundreds of questions rolled through his mind like a computer screen with flashing signals and symbols that he didn’t know how to decode.
He picked up a framed picture from a table. In the picture, Madeline Taylor smiled in the arms of a man Ciaran guessed was Ethan.