Page 95 of Seth
A haughty expression jerked Seth’s chin up. He swiped the glass out of Gustavo’s grip. Red liquid overflowed, soaking his aristocratic fingers and the cuff of his white shirt. His full lips brushed against the rim of the glass, and he took a tiny sip. Without a word, he turned on his heel to leave.
“Not so fast.” Gustavo’s fingers seized Seth’s elbow, shackling it. “I’d like to say a toast.”
Breaching Seth’s personal space, he inhaled the rich, intoxicating smell. “To mutual respect and understanding and the beginning of a tender friendship because trust me, a day will come when you will want to have someone like me by your side. Drink up.”
With a flourish, Seth poured the wine on the carpeted floor. The corners of his lips twitched, curling up. “My bad.”
Gustavo snorted; rudimentary irritation stirred in his guts. “You think your naïve little friend is all you need? But he will never be able to understand a monster, a murderer like you. What will happen when he learns the truth? Or is that the reason why the one before him died?” The smirk disappeared from Seth’s face.
Gustavo continued, “What are you looking for? Tell me, and I will give it to you. Acceptance, understanding, thrill, a similar mind?” Seth’s cheek flinched in distaste as he broke his elbow free. “We are more alike than you think. I can be a very useful friend to you, and I always get what I want. Lucky for you, it’s really hard to offend me, and I have iron patience.”
Gustavo’s jaw locked; he threw a glance over his shoulder and growled, “More wine here.”
Pinching the stem of the fat glass, Gustavo thrust it forward.
A wide palm landed on his shoulder as a gnarled hand, coming from behind, snatched the glass out of his fingers.
“Thank you, Gustavo. I really needed this.” Gustavo turned to meet Arnold Alby’s silver eyes. In one go, Arnold drained the glass. “And stop pestering Seth. He doesn’t drink alcohol. He’s intolerant to it.”
With a crook of a finger, Arnold sorted another drink. The fat glass with red content looked nearly identical to wine.
Intolerant?Gustavo scowled, shooting Seth an annoyed glance. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Seth ignored him, attention fixing on his employer. He slightly bowed his head, but in a proud movement, Gustavo read glimpses of respect. His fingers clenched around the stem of the glass as he bit back a growl.
“Excuse us, Gustavo, I have to kidnap your company.” Flashing a blinding smile, the white-haired man wrapped an arm around Seth’s shoulders, guiding him toward the glass heart. “This is magnificent, Seth. You’ve outdone yourself. If I didn’t know how hard you worked on your skills, I’d think you sold your soul to the devil in exchange for your talent. All this light, textures, and details. It looks so full of life.”
Fighting the urge to throw the glass at Arnold’s retreating head, Gustavo blew out a breath. “Oh, you have no idea…”
“Seriously, you need to improve your flirting skills,” Diego’s voice, drifting from behind, rang with amusement. Gustavo turned to meet the toothy grin, and a plate abounding with fruit.
“Stop eating.”
“Why? Are we staying for dinner?”
“Dinner?” Gustavo looked up the elevator shaft. “You didn’t want to share a toast so you’ll have to break bread with me. Diego, I don’t care who you bribe or threaten, but make sure we sit at Seth’s table. If possible, remove extra ears too.”
* * *
The glass heartstoppedpulsing long before the grand welcome was over. With the sunset, the electric beams substituted the natural light. Most of the media retreated, and VIP guests, group by group, started migrating to the restaurant upstairs.
Overwhelmed with social interaction, interviews, and the omnipresent stares of Gustavo, Seth hovered on the verge of murdering someone. He missed Ignaz, and every minute spent away from the boy added a drop into the pool of his darkness. A bitter taste of premonition filled his mouth and unsettled his nerves. He scanned his surroundings, trying to locate the cause of his alertness, but nothing unusual caught his eye. He glanced at his phone but found no new messages. Retreating to one of the personnel rooms, he tried calling Ignaz, but his phone was unavailable. Without saying goodbye, Seth left the building and drove home.
Darkness cloaked his villa in nearly visible fog. Dropping the car in front of the rear door, Seth rushed inside. The lights were off, and nothing in the surroundings betrayed life, but Seth instantlyknewIgnaz was home. He flew upstairs, skipping steps, and entered Ignaz’s bedroom without knocking. It was dark and gloomy, but a single stripe of light leaked from under the bathroom door.
On impulse, Seth shouldered the door open.
The faucet ran full force. Red water flowed over the edge of the tub and flooded the tan floor. Thick steam thickened the air with a surreal feeling of doom.
This can’t be happening.Seth thought, watching the bloody hand hang from the bathtub lip, red droplets tearing from fingertips and crashing against puddles of water. Seth shook his head and pressed his hands to his face, checking his reality.No, this can’t be happening…
Seth’s kneeshitthe marble tiles, red water rippling around his tuxedo pants. Ignaz lay still, face bloodless. Even beneath the bloody water, his fingers looked pale as they wound around a straight razor.
“No...” Seth wanted to scream, rage, and crush things. He grasped the blade and, pouring all his impotence and frustration in a movement, threw it away. Metal clanged against stone.
His fingers shook as he fumbled over the pallid neck, searching for signs of life. Weak and fluttering, the pulse pushed against his finger pad, giving hope.
He plunged his arms in the water and lifted the boy. The white cuffs of his shirt, peeking from under the black tux, turned rusty pink. Water cascaded from the motionless body, flooding the floor when he carried Ignaz to the bed. With great care, he lowered his possession to the bedspread and checked Ignaz’s body.
