Page 54 of Seth
“You are a terrible friend. I shall find myself another one.” Gustavo couldn’t help laughing. He turned to the impenetrable glass of Seth’s villa, then said, “Drive, you leech.”
Portia’s callcaughtSeth midway home. Her sharp tone and precise words informed him that she didn’t expect any reply and just called to inform him that the interior decoration of the foyer of SkyBlade was finished and now required his attention.
Seth U-turned the car and drove to SkyBlade. His mind cleared, energy boiled, and his hands were light and steady when he installed a set of prisms designed to intensify and redirect the daylight to one spot—the chamber of Justin’s heart. He finished when darkness swallowed the sun.
He picked up Ignaz in the parking lot of the mall. They didn’t exchange a word on the way to his villa. Seth sensed the air of urgency emitting from him. A feverish look settled on his face and even his movements, so calm and relaxed a day before, picked up neurotic angularity.
Driven by the silent need, they entered the villa through the rear door, and Seth ushered Ignaz toward the opposite end of the house, then downstairs to the basement.
* * *
The smellof bloodcurdled the air as energy circulated through the room. The mix of endorphins and adrenaline sent Seth’s head spinning. Bouncing off Ignaz, it gently flowed back, wrapping around Seth. Waiting for another moment, he lifted the bullwhip and struck.
WHIZZZZZ.
The leather tongue licked the old, white scars on Ignaz’s shoulder blade. The boy jerked, pain contracting his muscles. Tiptoeing, he looked like he clung to consciousness and the St. Andrew’s cross with everything he had. His knees shook, fingers trembled as they wrapped around the shackles. His muscles rolled as if every nerve ending feasted on pain.
“More,” Ignaz demanded in a shaky voice. The gray stone of the basement carried the echo of his request, dragging it around, multiplying it. That was Seth’s design. The walls reflecting sounds empowered them. Speaking here was easier for him as every whisper sounded as loud as normal speech. Here, he didn’t need to strain his throat. “More.”
Seth struck again but with less force. With every lick of leather, it took Ignaz longer and longer to process the pain. Spasms and contractions of his limbs excited Seth’s mind, yet a weird notion prevented him from fully enjoying it. The same feeling he’d experienced during their first scene. Despite Ignaz’s body reactions, Seth wasn’t sure if the boy chased subspace or drowned in pure agony. And once again, Ignaz dove into another reality where Seth didn’t exist.
He wanted to come closer and look into the deep-blue eyes, run the back of his fingers alongside his slim face, and make sure the boy enjoyed himself, but he doubted Ignaz would appreciate it.
“More.”
Seth complied. The whip licked above the still healing buttock. Ignaz sucked in a sharp breath, pain rippling through his body.
Blood and sweat trickled down his contracting back, ass, and legs. Despite the gory picture, Seth knew the damage wasn’t crucial. The multiple cuts he’d left weren’t deep, and none of them touched Ignaz’s liver, kidneys, or spine. The whip never wrapped around his torso, never damaged Ignaz’s front.
“Mo-re…” The weak, incoherent voice reached his ears, and Seth’s vision zoomed in on the slacking fingers. Ignaz’s knees twitched. His shoulders spasmed, and he shuddered. Throaty cries of misery and pain washed Seth’s soul in darkness.
“Ignaz…” Seth frowned, approaching the St. Andrew’s cross with small, silent steps. He folded the whip in the middle and ran the loopy end over the back of Ignaz’s thighs, flank, neck, and arm, avoiding the damaged areas. “How do you feel?”
The boy shook his head.
“M-more...” He demanded, hysterical notes seeping into his voice.
Pain had always been alien territory to Seth. Never having experiencing it, he needed the guidance of his partner. Without it, he couldn’t say where the borders lay and if he crossed them. At the moment, Ignaz was incapable of doing so. He didn’t look like he remembered his own name, let alone being able to assess the situation, so Seth asked, “Do you know who I am, or where you are?”
Ignaz rolled his head, leveling Seth with unseeing eyes. His eyelids reddened and swelled, pupils dilated, and cheeks glistened with tears. “Hurt me. I need more… Much more.”
“I don’t think you do.” Seth huffed out, “Let’s stop here.”
“No. No!” Ignaz growled; his body thrashed against the cross, limbs jerking, trying to break free. His eyes disappeared into the grimace of agony, his jaw dropped, and he wept. “More! I said more.”
He hurled back, and the shackles stripped skin off his wrists.
“Easy-easy…” Seth whispered and pressed his chest against the bloody back to stop Ignaz from hurting himself. The muddy pupils crawled under the upper eyelids, leaving only the crescents visible. Ignaz’s nose ran, saliva bubbled at the corner of his mouth, and his honey-blond hair stuck to his forehead.
“I’m going to uncuff you now.” Seth blew at his cheek, concern rising. The boy didn’t react. His eyelashes fluttered, but his pupils remained rolled up.
He doesn’t see me.Seth tossed the whip aside, lowered to his knees, and undid the shackles around Ignaz’s ankles. He rubbed each foot in his palms to restart the blood circulation then got up. He grabbed a piece of gauze and soaked it with medical antiseptic before covering the bleeding back. Resting the slack body against his chest, he released one hand, then another. Ignaz sagged into his arms, head resting on his collarbone. Seth’s white shirt turned red where the bloody cloth separated their bodies.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he whispered into Ignaz’s ear, lifted the motionless body in his arms, and carried it out of the dungeon.
By the time they reached the bed, Ignaz convulsed, sobbed, and gulped the air with an open mouth. Carefully, Seth lowered him to the bed on his stomach and brought a glass of water to his lips. Ignaz pushed it away, water spilling on the bedsheet. Not taking offense, Seth tried again and again until Ignaz leveled him with an empty look. The gaze stripped of any recognition stabbed Seth’s pride.
He frowned, wondering if he imagined it, but upon his attention, Ignaz’s clammy fingers fumbled over his hand, and the boy clung to the glass, teeth chattering against the edge.
