Fallen Hero (A New Adventure Begins - Star Elite 3)

“If I knew what he had done with it, I would get my hands on it and would at least be able to eat,” Elspeth whispered in misery when her stomach rumbled hungrily.

She contemplated going over to the apple tree in the orchard at the end of the garden, and at least trying to eat one of the apples, but knew they were inedible. They were meant for cooking and were far too sour to eat off the tree. The last time she had tried to eat one they had given her stomach cramps and made her ill for days. Another few days of misery, pain and discomfort were the last thing she needed right now. In fact, she contemplated whether she should just eat several and be done with it. The result would be the same, although it would be a long, slow, lingering death.

“Not like Thomas’s demise,” Elspeth whispered sadly.

She had no idea what had compelled her brother to try to return home in the middle of the night like he had, and in a curricle of all things. The roads around the town of Cromley alone were dangerous not least because of the narrow roads, sharp inclines, steep declines and tight corners. But he had, and nobody had found him until dawn had given a local farmer a view of Thomas’s upturned curricle.

“We never even owned a curricle,” she hissed, wondering if that was what Thomas had spent some of his money on.

Quickly shoving all thoughts of her brother out of her mind, Elspeth buried her head on her arms and listened to the thunder. Step by step, minute by minute, it crept ever closer, its rumbling torment growing louder and louder in the silence of the midnight hour.

Elspeth was so immersed in her misery that she was unaware of the man who wandered around the outside of the house and did his level best to try to see into the property. The thunder boomed and rattled the sky over their heads with such fierce determination that Elspeth didn’t hear him try the back door only feet away from where she sat, or curse virulently when his determined attempts to get into the house were thwarted by the locks she had thrown when she had left.

Aaron stomped around the outside of the house and returned to pounding on the front door. He wanted to kick the damned thing down such was the force of his frustration.

“The upstairs window is slightly open,” Jasper murmured.

Aaron stepped back to look up. He smirked with relief when he saw the inch or so of space at the bottom of the window. He knew he could climb up there, but it would be difficult.

“Give me a hand?” he asked of Oliver.

“I will go up,” Callum offered.

Aaron opened his mouth to object only for Callum to grin at him and rub his hands together. It appeared he relished the challenge.

Oliver interlaced his fingers and cupped his hands in readiness for Callum’s boot.

“Stand back, old man. I am younger and lighter than you. Watch how an expert does it,” Callum drawled with a cocky grin.

Seconds later, he disappeared into the depths of the large house as silently as a wraith in the moonlight.

Aaron bit out a curse but shook his head in admiration despite his doubts about allowing his colleague – a stranger to Elspeth – into the darkened house she called home. If she was in that bed chamber sound asleep she would have a conniption at finding Callum climbing through the window. Thankfully, there were no loud screams to shatter the night air. Instead, the slight rattle of the front door made both Aaron and Oliver turn around in time to watch Callum bow and wave a long arm toward the interior of the house behind him.

“Would you like to come in, sir?” he intoned in the best imitation of a butler he could manage.

Aaron slowly entered the house. He knew instantly that Elspeth was not there. Not only was the house cold and damp, it had a decidedly empty feel that was distinctly uncomfortable. He looked all around as he walked deeper into each room that lined the main passage. As expected, each room was neat and tidy, and worryingly unoccupied.

He crept slowly up the stairs. There was nothing visually wrong, but he sensed that something was desperately amiss within the house. It was almost too cold, too empty, but also not as dank as one would expect if nobody had lived in the home for a month at least.

“I don’t like this,” Oliver breathed in his ear.

Aaron shook his head. Together, the men made their way through the upper floor of the house, and as Callum, Jasper and Niall searched each room downstairs for signs of life.

Minutes later, they all converged in the kitchen.

“Damn, I can hardly see,” Oliver grunted as he stumbled into the back of a chair. He rubbed his knee and scowled at the feeble candle on the kitchen table.

Aaron, with what little light he had, knelt before the fire and touched the ash.

“There are clothes in the cupboards upstairs,” Callum reported as he stumbled into the kitchen, fell down the step, and came to land on the kitchen table.

“Watch your step,” Jasper smirked.

“Are there no candles anywhere in this place?” Oliver grumbled.

“If someone has moved out, why have they left their clothing here?” Niall murmured with a thoughtful frown.

“Damn, this is damned stupid,” Callum grunted when he righted himself and began to fumble around for a chair. He scowled at the shutters beside him and yanked them open. Although it was dark outside, at least the occasional flicker of lightening worked with the feeble candle to give them all some idea of which pieces of furniture they needed to avoid.