by S E Holmes
nasty punch-up. Considering his advanced healing capacity, the fight must have been recent. Seeing him hurt was most satisfying.
Seth spoke, that rich tenor overloud in the confined space and triggering fresh anxiety. “Are you curious as to how I penetrated your security?”
I was, and made the mistake of looking into his face with raised brows. I gasped, but not because of his beauty. One cheek was marred by a puffy, eggplant bruise. The shape of a diamond indented its centre, where a familiar ring bearing the engraving L&H 4ever had left a mark. The force of the blow had swollen the eye above shut.
Hugo had attacked Seth and broken his cheekbone, bless him. But if Seth had won the clash, I hated to guess what Hugo looked like. If he was still alive. Yet, I’d heard him shout, loud and clear … And somewhere close enough for me to heed. Hugo was definitely on this boat. Once in awareness, the certainty would not fade. It gave me a new purpose and a reckless disregard for my true danger.
Seth smiled that smug smile, sprawling on his throne. Palm to his face, he swept his hand from the bottom of his chin to his forehead. Hugo’s likeness suddenly shimmered where Seth’s had been a moment previous. My jaw dropped in dismay.
“All the better to trap the unwary. Transformation is another of my many skills.”
How would I ever trust my eyes again? He passed his palm back down and his true visage reappeared. Then the bastard did it again, displaying a new portrait. This time, the mask was almost too hazy to identify. I squinted until recognition struck. It was a poor rendering of Smithy.
“No,” I yelled. “Leave him alone!”
“He is rather prominent in your head,” Seth purred. “Shall I take his name in your stead?”
“If you find it so simple to raid my thoughts, why don’t you just steal my name! Why bother with the porn act?” My cheeks burned, which amplified my anger.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Seth chuckled, using Smithy’s mouth. “Fun. You are a little firecracker, aren’t you? And your sexy squirming and groaning suggests anything but an act.”
“Unlock this thing.” Blushing furiously, I rattled my chain. “And I’ll show you fireworks. Coward.”
“You’ll need to do better than that, if you want to insult me. Do you know nothing of your heritage?”
“Thanks to your betrayal of the woman you were supposed to love, there’s no one left to teach me.”
How about that for an insult! His jaw twitched. I wondered what would happen if I goaded him to rage.
“Whatever have the Trinity been doing all these years?” he said reproachfully. “A Keeper’s name is her most cherished secret, accessible only from her own sweet lips.” He lingered over the words ‘sweet lips’, using Smithy’s voice. I wanted to vomit.
“The baby was a girl. Did you know? How could you be so disloyal to someone who tried to save you?”
“You judge matters you can’t possibly understand,” he snarled.
I told myself to shut up and stop baiting him, but the grief over my parents spilled out. “It’s a fairly simple choice: don’t disclose Raphaela’s location or save your own skin by telling that monster all you’d learned.” He blinked at me, as if I’d reached over and slapped him. “She loved you.”
“Let us talk about the one you love. Or are you too gutless to tell him how you feel? Your boy. Have you let him taste you in the dark? Has he peeled apart your layers with his tongue, little girl?” In the guise of Smithy, Seth moistened his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Have you offered him your innocence for a quick hump in the muck?” Seth’s tone was savage with anger. “No, still pure? A rare trophy. If you like, I’ll spare you the indignity of dying a virgin.”
“Stop it!” I couldn’t stand the words spewing from this awful imitation of Smithy. And the reminder of him made the guilt acute. I missed Vegas badly, even the bossy, over-protective version. Seth warped what should be special, so it seemed worthless and vulgar. “Keep your grubby tricks to yourself! You’re a fiend who knows nothing of love.”
“Have you not heard, Keeper? Didn’t Hugo tell you? Love is trade, good for a cheap bargain. And he sold his sister for less than cheap. We all have our price, even your special boy.”
“What of your crimes? How much did your soul go for?”
“I never had a soul. Like you, I was damned from the moment of my birth.” He was Seth again, no longer taunting, but regarding me with an arctic stare.
“I don’t understand why you’re doing this,” I said, refusing to look at him anymore. I dropped my chin to my chest where I was determined it would remain.
“I would never have broken cover had I known what was at stake,” he spat. “Keepers are more deceitful than even her. You lie and pretend and make promises you have no intention of ever upholding. You peddle death like a plague. The world would be better rid of you completely. If I return Finesse’s cursed Stone, she will wipe us all from history. No misery can touch one who has never existed. That will be my reward.”
Suddenly, I understood. Raphaela had broken him when she’d hidden the truth of their child. He wanted revenge for what he saw as the ultimate treachery. And he was hell-bent on taking it out on me.
My head rose. “How many Keepers have you known to make claims about all of us?”
“Insolent, aren’t you? Have you not been taught respect?”
Wow, the guy who held me hostage took offence because I was being rude? “Respect is earned.”
“It is the least you owe me.” Seth leaned in close, glaring at me. My lungs seized and a cold sweat pooled along my spine. “I’ll tell you my greatest secret. Something the mistress of woe doesn’t even know.” I gulped. Sharing such a secret implied he didn’t believe I’d be around to pass it on. “I was there when the first of you started this hell. I was there when that thieving bitch, Isadore, stole the Stone from Satan’s whore and cursed the whole lot of us.”
My ancestors triggered this? We were responsible! Had Aunt Bea lied to me or didn’t she know?
“Seth!” he snorted. “Most wretched of all. Named for the Egyptian god of storm, Finesse’s mortal lover.” He rambled on, momentarily forgetting me. How? How could I get out of here? “Almost as mighty as the Crone herself, of unparalleled evil. Endowed with deathly charms. Do you know little keeper, that if you stare into my eyes, you are mine forever to do with as I please?”
His speech took on a hypnotic quality. Apparently he hadn’t forgotten me at all. He bent so that his lips brushed my ear, the warmth of his breath ruffling my soggy hair. Paralysed by his touch, I avoided his eyes at all costs. But of course, it was far too late. Combined with the spell of his voice, that gaze would cripple me. I was stupid to provoke him.
“Are you scared, little girl? You should be. I will have your name.”
Seth’s tone dropped an octave. In the periphery, ribbons of shadow seemed to branch out behind him. I risked a glance and regretted it. As sinuous as inky snakes, the shades undulated along the wall, others squirming up over the ceiling. The bathroom filled with a horrible harsh rattle. I was petrified by the thought of what would happen if those things touched me, hunching into a stiff ball.
“With a single word I can tell your heart to stop beating. Or break open your sternum and pluck it out like a quivering oyster from the shell.”
He sat back. Raising his palms to the level of his broad shoulders, he pressed them together as if in prayer. Gradually, Seth spread his hands wide along the length of his forefingers like the opening pages of a book. The loop of my arms broke and my legs parted of their own accord, revealing the front of my t-shirt. Focus glazed, he reached over and trailed two fingers down the middle of my chest between the rise of my breasts. He tapped my sternum and then began to push.
Those terrifying serpent-like things rippled faster across the walls towards me, their grating cacophony filling my head. I scuttled rearwards, but barred by the wall, had nowhere to go.
“Seth!” I gurgled. “Seth, stop!”
Agony radi
ated from the pressure of his fingers digging for my heart. I clasped his wrist in both hands and pushed back, attempting to wedge my feet against the toilet to gain leverage. But I was too short and the act bought me closer to him and his writhing spectres.
“I am the witch’s enforcer,” he said in a trance. “Anathema’s highest, most feared Captain. Do you like my pets? We call them the seethers. You don’t want to let them under your skin.”
“I’m not Isadore! I didn’t steal it.” I choked out. “I don’t know where the Stone is! I’ve never even seen it.”
His weight increased and I felt as if my lungs would explode. Oily tendrils crossed the mirror and penetrated the shower recess, almost at the wall I pressed against now. They would be on me in seconds. Desperation gave me another idea. Rocking on my haunches, I pinioned one foot on the floor and kicked at his arms with the other. They were bands of steel.
I changed tactic. Aiming for his face, I planted a mighty thrust with the sole of my sneaker on his broken cheek. He grunted, snapping backwards, and the heaviness on my chest immediately released.
We both slumped to our former positions, noisily sucking air. Thankfully, his fiends vanished. I stared up at him. He seemed shocked by his own actions, as if he’d spontaneously let go of control, compulsively running his fingers through his hair. The man was seriously unstable. There had to be a way to escape. What had Mrs Paget said before
