Seducing Virtue (Wicked Trinity Book 3)

by Courtney Lane

  Underneath the spider web cracks of the screen, the app came up with a dreaded message: “Signal not found.”

  “I will find her, Mrs. Mara. I promise you.” My last words were a rasp to a phone that lay shattered on the ground, indicating Mrs. Mara might not have heard my promise.

  My feet made the tread before my mind could follow. I descended downstairs to my guests, preparing to mentally rip one of them apart.

  Keaton’s vow returned to me as a grotesque apparition; she vowed to be a martyr and lay across Noah’s poison-coated sword to protect the ones she loved, and she made good on her promise in spite of my hope that she wouldn’t do the unthinkable.

  My hands and steps were crazed as I fought against the darker thoughts, seducing me into thinking and doing the worst. Magnus Oliver ran thickly through my blood, and he hungered for destruction.

  “I think he’s officially lost whatever was left of his shit.” Nadine’s irritating voice was the last ton of weight I needed to shove it all away. I broadened my shoulders, standing as the victor against what threatened my entire being.

  I halted my steps, rendering the sensation of a gun within my grasp; a gun I had no recollection of retrieving or holding until that instant. I cocked my gun and shot Nadine point blank in the shoulder. The force sent her on a flight backward.

  Awestruck, her hand floated up to her shoulder to suppress the bleeding. “You shot me?” she screamed, stressing her pain and toying with the disappearing line on my patience.

  “Nadine…if you don’t quiet yourself, I will shoot you again, and this time, I won’t miss on purpose. I’ll aim to shut you up permanently.” My voice was unlike my own and had wrapped itself around the character of Reven.

  Nadine scattered away, her bottom lip trembling as she sat on her cot.

  I pushed my hair off my face and strode over to Abigail’s cell and had a seat. The striking pain shot through me, and I stood, kicking the chair from underneath me.

  “What’s going on with you, Shiloh?” A motherly concern swathed Abigail’s words.

  “Thank you for your concern, but I’m not here for you.” My gaze turned to scrutinize Nadine as she stood in the shadows. “I’m here for information from you.”

  “Torture me. I won’t tell you where I think Noah is.” Nadine had shrugged off her pain to hold tightly to her misplaced strength.

  “I’m not going to torture you for what I want.”

  “What are you going to do?” she questioned. “Shoot me again?”

  My shoulders curled forward as I placed my hands in prayer position in front of my mouth. “Noah has Keaton.”

  Nadine staggered from the cot and stepped into my view. Remnants of a congratulatory smile for the man she held affections for spread across her lips. “He’s not going to hurt her. He would never hurt her. Well, not in a way she would die from, anyway.”

  “Because he’s never taken her to such a point?” I paced around the chair, no longer able to remain still. “He took Keaton.” Realizing my voice was raising, I inhaled therapeutic breaths as though they were my drug, keeping me immune from the torment. I was on a fast departure out of my sound mind, but I couldn’t let on to my guests how I had reached the end of my sanity.

  “Shiloh, be still.” Abigail’s words were smooth and light toward me. “Think smart, not with anger.”

  “Why the fuck are you helping him?” Nadine’s acidic tone stole the concern from Abigail’s weathered face.

  My vision shifted to Abigail. “I’ve learned my lessons well from you. Would you like to know my definition for insanity?”

  The swirling emotion held within Abigail’s eyes guided me along the right path and enclosed me inside my less uproarious thoughts to place me where I wanted and needed to be.

  Expanding my back and standing with a newfound courage, I began to smile. “Nadine, has Noah ever told you the story of his elusive former nun?”

  An answer wasn’t necessary, I continued without one, secure in the knowledge of garnering Nadine’s undivided attention. “You’ve been told the story of her drunk driving incident that turned her away from her vow to God, but I’m positive you aren’t aware of her eager beginnings? The man she was with, the one she killed in a drunken accident, wasn’t the only man to spurn her advances. The first one took her children away from her and ostracized her from a life she knew since she was a child. She turned to the church, took her vows, and quickly fell in love with a priest who couldn’t return her affections.

  “She became drunk one night and drove recklessly, killing him and leaving her crippled. She served jail time for her crimes, and when she was released, she searched for the children she had lost.”

  Abigail’s pointed stare led me down a dark road of painful recollections.

  “Where did you find one of your children, Abigail?” I queried.

  “My oldest child died shortly after it was born,” she replied, her tone frigid.

  “And the other?” I questioned.

  “I thought I found him, in an AA meeting.” Her words were calm and careful, a stark contradiction to her tears.

  Nadine’s gasp was a sharp and rigid noise in the stale air. “You’re Noah’s mother? How the fuck? You…you sick, sick bitch.”

  I bit the corner of my skewed smile and lowered my eyes at Nadine. “I think the gentle former sister has a thing for men who are incapable of loving her. The interesting fact is there was another priest she loved after the second, who couldn’t return her affections. In fact, he wasn’t into women at all.” I returned my attention to Abigail. “While this is a story I was never told, I can only assume how it unfolded. I think you watched him, like a lonely old woman like you would. But this man guided you to what you thought was your destiny. He pointed you to my brother, where he indulged in his depraved vices. You wanted to know what Noah had that you didn’t. But our dear priest had plans for Noah that night. Like the savior you needed to be, you made sure Noah survived. You saw him through his trials. You directed him to your detox center and you got close to him.

  “You cultivated who you were to appease him. You fed his need to kill and to hurt, and in the middle of it all…you lost who you were. You forgot that you were his mother and fell in love with him. I can’t imagine how difficult it was to watch him be with Keaton. We likely share in the magnitude of our hatred for his moments with her at Rebirth.”

  Abigail fluttered her eyelashes at me, fighting back tears that were too strong to be withheld.

  “Did you imagine it was you, only to come up short?” I asked. “I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to feel nothing when a man is inside you. Most men need the response whether it’s pain or pleasure. You couldn’t provide Noah with either. You failed as his mother before he knew you, and you failed as a lover. Watching him with Keaton, you realized what eluded you. Noah would never engage in your sick fantasy of his love for you.

  “Keaton had intrigued him to such an extent he was willing to let you go. He might think it’s love. It’s not. It’s an undying obsession that he’ll rid himself of.” I grinned broadly. “You are destined to be alone forever, because you’ll never have anyone who will love you as much as you love them. Because you’re no one. Nothing. Invisible.”

  With the closing of her eyes, Abigail lost the will to stand against my accusations of the truth against her.

  “Do you see a point in living, Sister?” I pushed her toward the ledge, hoping she’d threaten to take her life.

  “No, not anymore,” Abigail admitted, the defeat consuming her.

  I observed Nadine, waiting patiently for the moment all the things I laid out before her would encourage her to act. “Sick enough to fuck your son, you’re sick enough to kill yourself over this,” Nadine mumbled, likely assuming no one heard her. Her tangled black hair was motionless as she pressed herself to the front of her cage. “I have Noah’s number.”

  “Do you?” I questioned, my smile untamed.

  “It’s a burner ph
one, but the number is only for me. Call him, tell him Mrs. Sherman has lost her shit and he’ll come to you.”

  “Now, was that so difficult?” I slid my cellphone from my pocket and entered the numbers as Nadine stumbled over her words, eager to give me Noah’s coveted number. When she did, I dialed the number immediately.

  After a dozen unanswered rings and no voicemail, I had nearly given up on reaching him so easily.

  “Why are you bothering with this, Shiloh?” His trademark smugness was lacking, he nearly sounded broken beneath his desire to deflect me with the opposite. “You won’t win.”

  “You have less than an hour to come to my home. I know you’re not very far, and I have a very fun game planned for you. Fail to follow directions and my strong advice, and I’ll start cutting off Abigail’s limbs, one at a time. You might want to hurry. She’s abandoning all hope of living through the night thanks to a nice little chat she had with me. And by the time you delay, I’ll find you and show you how strong you’ve made me.” I hung up the phone and nodded to Abigail.

  The emotion drained from her face and she stood upright, ripping the tape from the bottom of her cot to retrieve what she’d hidden there. She used her retrieved key to unlock her cage.

  Nadine’s shock was exemplified through her wheezing. “You? You were with him this whole time?”

  Pacing her movements, Abigail approached Nadine’s cage and entered her code.

  Nadine’s blue eyes began to tear up as she realized the odds of winning the game were stacked against her. Abigail entered her cage, the glimmer of the knife in her hand reflected off Nadine’s muddy face.

  “No, don’t you come near me, you bitch.” The poor diet Nadine was provided, the medication given to her each night, and the infection growing in her hand made her too weak to stop her fate. She stumbled on her own feet and fell to her knees. The sister raised her hand and with one brutal swipe, a thickening line formed across Nadine’s neck.

  Instinctively, Nadine covered it, to cease the bleeding. Streams of crimson ran through her fingers. She gurgled on her blood, holding on to her life in a fruitless attempt to showcase her strength.

  “You’re no longer needed,” Abigail said to her, the coldness in her tone chilled the air. “Go to the devil’s side, Nadine, where you belong.”

  The sister and I remained still, waiting and watching for the only person Noah had left to trust to take her final breaths.

  Inside the dining room of my home, Abigail stood at the head of the table, her eyes eagerly searching my face after hours of waiting.

  “How’s your hand?” I questioned, briefly gazing at her bandaged hand.

  “Fine. It had to be done. Nadine was beginning to get suspicious before I was ready for her to think we were in it together.” She looked down at her broken and swollen hand with a shake of her head. “How are you, Shiloh?”

  “He won’t come.” I admitted the truth to myself and sank into a chair. “I thought you held more weight to him than she did. I…was wrong.”

  “We aren’t out of options, Shiloh. Don’t give up. We’ve come so far.”

  “We want different things. You want a son, and I want her. We were doomed from the beginning of this plan.”

  “I still believe. Science says only one of you is my son by DNA. Doesn’t matter. You’re both my sons, and I believe I can help you both get what you need.”

  I charged toward her, making her recoil in fear. “Hear me fucking now. I have no brother, nor a father, nor a mother. There are two people in my life—this life—I would lie down and die for in their place. You’ll never be one of them.”

  “I was only fourteen the first time your father raped me,” she began, her eyes attracted to the floor and her tone barely heard. “That baby died. The second time? I was twenty-three when I had you. You were stillborn, and like a miracle you took your first births seconds later. The community thought you were special, a blessing, and they took you away from me the minute you came back to life. I lost my will to live. I began to drink until they shoved me out of the compound and the life I knew. I never stopped thinking about you.

  “You have to know. I knew all along that you were my son. A mother knows. I thought I could get closer to you through Noah. And then, I thought you’d become Magnus Oliver and had to die. I lost hope for you, and I was wrong. I’m sorry. If you cheating death a second time doesn’t tell you how special you are…”

  Her head lobbed forward and a heavy sigh shifted her chest. “Someday, you’ll realize through all my mistakes, I only wanted the best for you—whatever it was.” Her glassy eyes met mine. “Think whatever you want of me, but I’ll do everything in my power to bring Keaton home. I have a way to connect with Noah. Meet me upstairs in ten minutes.”

  The minutes hung sluggishly around my head. With my hand wrestling with my hair, I ascended the stairs, hoping to find my last bit of hope had borne fruit.

  A door was left ajar in one of the guest rooms were Abigail remained when she needed to shower, or when my other guests were heavily drugged, allowing her time to rest in a comfortable bed.

  The room was empty, save for an open door to the closet. As I neared the space, a mass of graying dark hair was the first sight to greet me. The sight of Sister Abigail, hanging from one of my belts in the closet was the second.

  An envelope was on the floor, addressed to Noah and me. A slip of paper was held within it. Sister Abigail’s demons attached themselves to her even in death. She’d played both sides to the end, and in her death she sided with me.

  There was only one name on the sheet of paper addressed to me, the son she claimed to have given life.

  One name I was sure would bring me closer to finding Keaton.

  Sylvester Corrica.

  Slipping her phone from the floor, I took a picture of her lifeless body and sent it to the only other number in her address book beside my own, Sylvester.

  THE SULFURIC STENCH of her blood hung in the room for days. I sat in the middle of it, finger-painting with it when I was stuck in neutral, unable to act.

  The constant ringing of my phone. The pounding on the door. Nothing pulled me out of my position, sitting between Keaton’s spread open legs while staring at her body.

  Maybe I was waiting for a sign or a signal. I’d shoved at her body a few times, but she never responded. I couldn’t check her pulse or see if she was breathing shallowly. It was like my muscles wouldn’t move to do anything I ordered them to do. I had to do something if she was still alive.

  My entire world began to crumble since I met her, and it came tumbling down because of her. It would be obliterated if I tried to get her medical help. I would never turn myself over to live in prison for the rest of my life because the majority of the world slept through the truth, and went to bed complacent with the lies. The world needed someone like me, even if they couldn’t admit it to themselves.

  What the fuck was I to do when the key to build the empire I wanted was probably dead?

  Commotion downstairs, likely gunfire and screams, didn’t bring me out of my waking coma. Minutes later, pounding beyond the wall brought my eye to the door. It was unusual and strange, like someone had barged their way into my new home. The bang of the door and the pinging sound of the hinges made me tense. My attention darted around, looking for my gun. It was missing.

  The face greeting me was soaked with bewilderment. His white oxford shirt was splattered in blood. His knuckles were cracked as if he fought his way through my home. His eyes darted around, searching for something. I struggled to stand, staring down the man I had every intention of killing for good.

  When his eyes rested on Keaton, and he tried to bypass me to get to her, it set off a trigger. I lunged for my brother and was met with a gun shoved into my side, right above my stomach.

  He grabbed the back of my head and leaned in, his eyes red and irritated like he’d been crying over Keaton, exemplifying once more how weak he was. “Gunshots to the stomach are quite painf
ul and very deadly. Don’t fucking stand in my way. I’m not here to hash out our grievances.”

  I grabbed the gun, shoving it further into my side. “You would have to kill me first, because you won’t fucking get your hands on her again. She doesn’t know the truth about you.”

  “I’d never killed anyone until after you tried to kill me,” he spat at me. “And if you think I killed one of your lackeys, you’re wrong. Nadine and Abigail are waiting for you…in the place where you belong.”

  My fingers dug into the back of his skull. “Where are Nadine and Mrs. Sherman, Shiloh?”

  “My name”—the click of the gun indicated he loaded the chamber—“is not Shiloh.”

  “Be a good boy and run home with your tail between your legs. You’re not her hero. You don’t give a shit about her, because here you are arguing with me instead of trying to save her.”

  “And you love her? Look at her?” He looked beyond me and seemed hurt at the sight of her body. His eyes watered and he grimaced.

  “I love her more than you ever could.”

  “You don’t know the meaning of the word. What of your actions at Rebirth? You ordered the harbingers to break her so you could be seen as the hero. You must know, the harbingers were warned to disobey my orders when I told them to defile her. The times you set up circumstances simply to sentence her to your painful prison? You’ve obscured obsession with love.”

  Shiloh’s disrespectful glare turned a little darker. “I know your modus operandi, and Keaton isn’t the first woman you’ve treated this way. Your game is to appear as the safe option by appearing as a savior and undermining me. You did it with the women before her. You did it so often I learned your tricks.

  “The only reason you sank your teeth into Keaton was because I wanted her. You probably told her that you were the one who protected her, didn’t you? You always had to be the fucked-up knight in the situation. Did you tell her the motivation behind the time you left? Did you tell her the very arrogant reason why you really left?”