by Maggie Mundy
“Your face shows fear since I saw the picture of Rosie. We’ve just shared our bodies. Now, you sit at the far end of the couch clutching your knees. You’ve never feared me until tonight, until this moment.”
“Yes, but this doesn’t make any sense.” For the first time in ages, Cara would have liked Jessica there. “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m prepared to listen.” She looked at the wine glass on the table, but didn’t pick it up again. She needed to be sober enough to understand.
Seth didn’t touch his wine either as he placed the picture down. “I lived in the cottage you visited. My father was a blacksmith. He was also a drunk who beat my mother. I don’t remember her. She died when I was small. My father taught me his skill and I was a quick learner with a natural ability. One day he was so drunk, he fell in the forge. He lasted four days screaming in agony from the burns.”
Seth stood up and paced. He looked everywhere but straight at her. “I developed a reputation for making fine ceremonial swords and was living well. I met Rosie and fell in love. Like Margaret says, Rosie was already married but she never cheated on her husband. Then Annie said she was with child and it was mine. I had no reason to doubt her. A spring fair, too much drink and a mild evening had been our undoing. We married. There was no child. We deserved better than what we were to each other.”
Seth stood next to the table and looked down at the picture. His story seemed to have elements of her own with Tony. If she believed it.
“Rosie was wild and beautiful.” Seth paced again lost in thought.
“What happened then?” He looked her way and ran his hand behind his neck as he struggled to speak.
“I became my father. I drank too much. I rarely touched Annie, which suited her. Rosie always said if I laid a hand on her the way the local gentry did, she would kill herself. I loved her. Annie died in childbirth after eight years of marriage. We finally had the child that brought us together, but it died. People blamed Rosie because they said she had the touch. It’s wrong, but when my wife died, all I could think of was Rosie. I was going to sober up and ask her to be mine. I was too late. She disappeared after the local landowner was found dead in her house.” Seth sat down again.
Cara looked at him. His hands were shaking. He wasn’t painting a good picture of himself. She didn’t know if he really was the man in the book. In an odd way what he was saying made sense.
“Go on,” Cara encouraged.
“You know what happened to Rosie. When they found her body, she’d been stabbed to death through the heart. The killers mutilated her.”
“What did he do?” Cara unclenched her arms from around her knees and leaned forward. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her hands became clammy and cold.
“You don’t want to know.” He shook his head as if the action would help him forget the scene.
“Tell me.” She touched his hand.
He looked at her. Tears filled his eyes at the memory. “She had cuts across her forehead. They slashed her abdomen and stabbed her through the heart. The night she died, she came to me in a vision. She had the markings on her and a knife in her chest. I tried to help her. She pushed the knife deeper. An amazing heat and light surrounded me. It was only later when I tried to kill myself that I understood I couldn’t die. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. She needed me to avenge her death.”
Cara fiddled with her necklace. There were too many coincidences. She wanted to be rational and tell him he was insane. She couldn’t. Her hands trembled. What did he mean, he couldn’t die?
“The dagger in the vision was the same as the copy you saw in my forge. I fixed the weapon that killed Rosie. I tried to find the man who had brought it to me. He died before I could get all the information I wanted from him. I found two of the other killers in Paris. I couldn’t stop their deaths.” He clenched his hands in frustration.
“I still have to find the mastermind, but I don’t even know a name. Then forty years after Rosie died, bodies started being found with the same markings. It stopped for a while. Forty years after that it began again. And now, he’s back. I’ve been so close. That’s why I scarred myself each time to remind me how I’ve failed.”
Cara remembered the night in the morgue. Seeing Shona cold and dead was one of the worst events in her life. Tears flowed down her cheeks at the memory. Seth picked up one of the handkerchiefs from Nanna’s chest and handed it to her.
“Shona was cut like that. I had to identify her.” The words caught in her throat.
“I’m so sorry.” Seth started to take her hand, but hesitated.
“I’d told Shona about my dream. I‘d drawn a picture of a dagger,” Cara said. “She told me someone had come in and was interested in the drawing.”
“The police think it’s someone copying a killer from the past,” Seth said. “I believe it’s the same person. He’s long lived like me.”
“Now, you’re asking me to believe there’s someone else as old as you. That’s if you’re telling the truth and you are so old. I’m not saying I believe you yet. This is all mad, so unreal. I feel like I’m listening to someone in a dream and I will wake up.”
He knelt in front of her, looking into her eyes with such sincerity. Her heart ached with feelings for him despite what he was saying. “What Margaret said was true. I know you’ll find this hard to accept, but you of all people must believe me.”
“Why?” She folded her arms against her chest to stop herself from hugging him.
“Because I stopped wanting to live a long time ago. Rosie wanted me to avenge her death. I was so tired, tired of trying to stop myself getting attached to people around me. Then I found you. I’ve watched over your relatives for so long. None of them have meant anything to me, but I ensured their safety. If money was a problem I made sure they were provided for. Then I saw you with your parents. You’d just moved to Bristol from Ireland. As I watched you that day, something real and human started to live in me again, something I had no right to feel. When Kathleen died, I could no longer keep that distance. Please forgive me.”
“Go on.”
“At the funeral I picked you up. When you turned up at my home and I touched you, I knew there was no point in trying to stay away any longer. I offer no excuses for what I’ve done. Let me ask you this, Cara. Do you want to believe me?”
She did, but why? That was easy, she loved him. “Yes, but this is ridiculous. People don’t live that long. It means you’re lying and that hurts me. I can’t imagine my life without you. You’ve been in my dreams for so long. I just never believed you were real.” She wanted to hold him so much but had to keep her distance for now.
“My Nanna told me she was a witch and said I’m one too. I’ve done spells. You keep showing up in them. I have dreams where bodies get chopped up. Another female would be calling the cops right now. I think you can answer my questions more than anyone else. I know it’s stupid and illogical, but I want you to be telling the truth.” Cara took a deep breath.
“It’s important you believe me because I want you to care for me, and there’s only one way to prove this to you.” Seth stood up and walked to the kitchen.
He opened one of the drawers and pulled out a knife. As he walked back to the couch, he sliced his hand across his palm and then from his wrist to his elbow.
Cara screamed, clutching her hair. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
As she jumped forward, the edges of the wounds sealed together. In a moment, there was only a slight scar. He held his arm in front of her to touch.
Cara pushed herself back into the chair. “Don’t come near me. Telling me you can live a long time is one thing. Doing that’s another. What the hell are you?”
He sat down and placed the knife on the table. He turned to her. Her heart was still pounding at what she had just seen. “I’m
just a man. Rosie did something to me. I’ve read every book I could. I’ve visited every website. Nothing has explained what happened. I didn’t ask for this. I believe I was meant to meet you though.”
Cara sat on the far end of the couch.
“I’ve something else I need to show you.” Reaching into his jeans pocket he pulled out the chain with a stag on it.
“You have it.” Cara reached for the necklace.
Seth placed it in her hands. “It fell out of your bag in the forge. I should’ve given it back but I wanted something of yours. I’d made a doorknocker once that was a stag’s head. I wanted to believe it connected us.”
So, Seth was her protector. He was strong. He scared most people. Why couldn’t she get a muscle-builder or black belt in karate, instead of an immortal? This was crazy. What was more insane was she actually was starting to believe it. After all she could do spells so why wouldn’t somebody be able to live for a long time?
“Okay. Maybe, I believe what you said. After you freaked me out, I’m more inclined to do so. What are you protecting me from? If it’s Tony, he won’t be back.” Cara laughed nervously.
“As always, I watch to make sure the killer won’t come back again.”
Cara glanced down at her hands that were still shaking and took a deep breath. “This is most likely the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. I’m going to tell you something about why I think you’re telling the truth. First, I need another glass of wine after what you just did.”
Cara stayed at the end of the couch but told him everything. He sat there and listened. She almost laughed at one point, listening to how crazy she sounded. They were suited to each other. They were both insane. When she finished, the tight band around her head had disappeared.
“So where do we go from here? The loony bin?” Cara bit a nail.
“It’s up to you. I won’t bother you again if that’s what you want. I’ll return to watching over from a distance.”
Cara gazed down at the necklace in the palm of her hand. She wasn’t shaking anymore. When she looked up, she knew he was right. There was some special connection. They just hadn’t worked it all out yet. His gaze searched her face for a sign.
She leaned over and put the necklace on him. Cupping his face with her hands, she touched his lips with hers. Even after all that had been said, she still yearned for him. “I want you to stay.” Cara stood up and took his hand.
Seth had been gone two hours. She missed him. It was as if the place was totally empty. She hadn’t fallen in love since Tony. Now that she had, it was with an immortal that was a hundred and fifty odd years old. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be such a good idea to go to her counselor right now.
Nobody else could understand the dreams and visions. Seth made sense. She had seen how he had healed. He said he would be back later. She would just have to wait. Anyway, she needed to knuckle down and do some work.
Vincent had sent her a fax saying he liked one of the menus. She needed to do the costing. It was a large number of people. They would have to hire extra staff since it was mostly finger food. She ought to give Matcher a call. Perhaps, his friend Rachel might be available. Cara hoped he wouldn’t give her the tenth degree about Seth. She didn’t have a clue what she would say that could stop him from telling her, “I told you so.”
When she had gone through the numbers, she rang Vincent. His personal assistant, Stephan answered the phone.
Pulling up outside Vincent’s house, Cara rang the doorbell. Stephan answered. He looked down his nose at her. Vincent appeared behind him. He smiled his perfect smile. Maybe, that was it. He was too perfect. Could that be why she hadn’t fancied him? She had gone for the shaved head, well-muscled, bike-riding immortal that was brilliant in bed instead. Insane but ruggedly sexy was her type then.
Cara followed Vincent to the library. All the boxes were gone. Books had been placed around the room. One of the walls held a display of daggers and swords. Two comfortable leather chairs were at one end of the room and a beautiful old-fashioned desk at the other end. The light from the window made the room look bright but it smelled dark as if the old books emitted a sinister feeling. She shivered.
“I’ve a guest list on my desk. There are a few people who have special needs when it comes to food. They’re good clients. I’d like to pander to them if possible.” Vincent directed her towards his desk. The sound of the French National Anthem filled the room from Vincent’s mobile. “Please excuse me.”
“No, that’s fine. I’ll check the list.” Cara watched him walk from the room.
Vincent’s desk was extremely tidy like everywhere else. There was an in-box, out-box, pens and pencils, the guest list and a pile of books. Cara scanned the list. As she expected, mother and father were there. There were also a few well-known people from about town on the list. They would have to make sure they brought plenty of business cards and sample menus with them. As Daniel pointed out, it was a smart way to round up more customers.
She wondered if she could get a copy of the list. Vincent was still talking outside the door. His voice rose, but then he moved away.
The special requirements wouldn’t be too difficult, except for one. He’d better be worth it, because they would have to do a completely different meal for him. What did he live on? He was allergic to milk products, animal proteins and required a gluten free diet.
She would try and make him see that he could still enjoy food. Maybe, there was another string to her bow. People with special dietary needs probably thought companies like hers couldn’t be bothered with them. It was a niche market, but could be added to their existing format. It wouldn’t take much to adjust the menus.
She tapped her fingers on the desk. There were about six books piled there. The bottom two had modern covers with garish scenes. Cara read the blurb. Ritual Killings, Their Meaning in Today’s World. Well that’s a nice bedtime reader.
Cara picked up the next volume, Anne Rice’s Interview with a Vampire. The third book was a copy of Grey’s Anatomy. The next two books were something about artifacts from the past.
Then, there was a little black book with nothing written on its spine. Its leather cover was damaged and scratched. Cara reckoned it was old. Most of the stuff in this house was except the owner. Cara opened it. The pages inside were yellowed with age.
The title page said. “This is the True account of Mr. Robert Middleton’s Life. 1744…”
Cara flicked through a few pages. As she read, her stomach clenched in a knot. Vincent’s steps echoed in the hallway. She slammed the book shut before he entered the room. He walked in calmly. Her hands were clammy.
“I’m so sorry. That took longer than I expected. Have you had enough time to work out if you’ll be able to accommodate the needs of my guests?”
“Yes. I wonder would it be all right if I had a copy of the guest list?”
“Of course.” He printed out the list for her. When he turned back to her, she could see he was watching her closely. “Are you all right? You’ve gone extremely pale.”
‘I’ve a bit of a headache coming on. I’m so sorry. I believe we’ve covered most things though.”
“Of course. Please fax me if you have any concerns.”
Cara was glad he didn’t follow her out to the van. The open air outside was refreshing. She gasped for breath. The house had almost suffocated her.
“Cara.”
She didn’t need to turn to know who was calling her. It was her mother.
“I just received my invitation. I think this is going to be a wonderful opportunity for you. There’ll be lots of big names there. You’ll be able to branch out and then you will be able to get someone else to do the cooking.’
“Don’t you think that kind of defeats the concept? I do this because I like to cook.” She should have bitten her tongue.
>
“I’m so glad I introduced you to Vincent. He would be an excellent catch.”
“As far as Vincent is concerned, he is a client, Mum. I don’t mix business and pleasure. I can find myself a boyfriend. In fact, I have a new man in my life.”
Cara wanted to kick herself. Now came the Spanish Inquisition. When her mother met Seth with his shaved head and bike leathers, there would be a ritual burning at the stake.
Anne pursed her lips. “You must bring him round. Your father and I would love to meet him. What did you say his name was?”
Cara had the distinct impression her mother thought she was making it all up. “I didn’t say, but his name is Seth. Mum, I have to go. I’ve a headache coming on.”
Cara breathed out a long sigh of relief when she drove off. Her mother had gone inside already. No parental wave to be seen in the rear view mirror. Cara’s mind went back to what she had seen. The knot returned to her gut. She peered across at the book on the seat next to her. It would be okay, she thought. She’d return it on the night of the party. He wouldn’t even miss it.
Chapter 19
Cara picked up the book she had stolen from Vincent. What she had read had freaked her out, which was something for a person coping with being in love with an immortal. She needed to read it again though.
She passed over the first twenty pages or so, which talked of Robert’s trysts with one of his housemaids called, Lillie and his nights of drunken debauchery with his friends.
Robert Middleton wrote, I have retold everything that led up to the events of the night in question. Now, I will tell what happened to Lillie. My friend William’s manservant came not long after dark with a message for me. My friends had decided to go to his estate, Basset Manor instead. It was no surprise. His father’s wine cellar was something to be envied. William intended on draining it, if that was possible for one person to do.
