Chapter Eighteen
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Henri
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THE CURSE OF BLOOD & DARKNESS
by
Henri Mercer
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THE BOY WHO WOULD NEVER be my brother, despite the shared blood in our veins, appeared in the wing of the house where we were kept.
He emerged covered in blood. A gun in his hand and murder in his eyes. He looked at us as if we were something he’d scraped off his shoe. A hoard of children sired by his father, a harem of women who’d been his chattel.
Two of my little sisters crawled into my arms, breaking into wails as Quincy strode amongst our midst. Counting us, he nodded, then spun on his heel and left.
A day later, the locks on the doors and the bars on the windows were removed. Our mothers were interviewed and given rooms. Their children going with them.
By the time my mother and I were dragged before the new lord and master, my mother had pissed herself in fear and I prepared to kill him if he laid a single finger on her like our father had.
Instead, he’d handed her an envelope and offered to send her home.
We’d been flown far, far away.
I didn’t get to say goodbye to my half-blooded siblings.
And that was when the loneliness set in.
Amnesia wrapped my memories in forgetfulness far stronger than the blackouts of before.
I’d deliberately forgotten what my father did to those women so I didn’t pass on the curse to my sisters and brothers.
But now I deleted those siblings from my mind so I didn’t have to suffer heartbreak every time I remembered I’d once had a family, and now I had none—
Digging my fingers into my eyes, I highlighted every fucking word I’d written so far and deleted them. Every comma, paragraph, and memory. Hours upon hours’ worth of transcribing all gone.
Pointless.
Ridiculous.
Agonising.
I didn’t want to remember anymore.
I wanted peace.
The longer I stayed here with Ily trying to seduce me and the castle whispering I was sane instead of twisted, the more I sank deeper and deeper.
Every part of me was heavy.
Lethargy turned into quicksand, clinging to my limbs every time I tried to move, to think, to talk. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spoken out loud. I’d let my fingers do all my speaking and my mind—
I’ve had enough.
Slamming the laptop closed, I swooped to my feet and stalked out of the library.
I was done with the past.
Done with everything.
I wanted out.
I needed to run before I lost my fucking mind.
Stalking up the stairs, I ignored the opulence surrounding me. My fingers almost dented the laptop as I took the steps two at a time and practically ran down the corridor.
Exploding into my chamber, Ily squeaked and leapt back from where she’d been rummaging in the wardrobe.
Hugging a baggy beige jumper that seemed to be the only thing of substance Victor had ordered for her, she backed up with eyes wide.
The sight of her clothes hanging with mine.
The fact that we’d been living together for weeks.
That I still wanted to hurt her even now...
Christ!
Throwing the laptop onto the bed, I bolted into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Grabbing the sink, I breathed hard.
The screams as my father molested his current woman.
The whippings, the bleedings, the rapes—
Panic latched around my throat.
My vision went hazy.
That’s inside me.
That curse would never stop.
Until the day I died, the madness that’d lived within him would live within me, and the only way to stop it was to kill the host. Just like Q did back then. He’d shot our father in cold blood, then turfed us out of his inherited estate all because he knew.
He knew he’d end up having to kill us if we stayed because we were all infected—
I gagged.
That damn fucking nausea was back.
“Henri?” A tentative knock on the door.
My head tipped down.
Guilt festered with the putridness inside me.
Go away, little nightmare.
I beg you.
“Are you...are you okay?” The door opened a crack.
I bared my teeth and spun to face her. “Get out!”
She blanched and backed up.
The fear in her eyes.
The hate beneath all her sweet obedience.
Ah shit.
My lunch reappeared as I crashed to my knees by the toilet. Closing my eyes, I rode through the wracking heaves and flushed my shame the moment my body had purged.
Staggering to my feet, I grabbed my toothbrush, scrubbed away all the shit I could never say, then spat minty froth into the sink.
By the time I’d splashed ice-cold water on my face, the attack had faded, leaving me jittery and guilty and fuck...
I yelled at her.
My first words to her in weeks, and they’d been delivered with violence.
I flinched.
She’d asked me why I’d scolded her. Asked why I’d said such cutting things to her when Victor interrogated me all while I stood dripping in Kyle’s cold blood.
I’d snapped because she stood up to Victor even then.
I’d put her in her place because she was so much braver than me, so much better than me, and if Victor grew to know her resilience like I had, he’d do his utmost to break it.
It was the one thing I couldn’t protect her from in here.
The one man I wouldn’t be able to stop from taking her.
My only weapon was to belittle Ily to the point she became completely undesirable in his eyes. If I could reduce her to nothing and demean her to the point she lost all intrigue, then...she’ll be safe.
Smoothing back my longer hair, I sucked in a deep breath and prepared to go back out there. To apologise. To do my best to explain the unexplainable shit inside me.
Only...
A heavy drone.
The telltale growl of an aircraft engine coming in to land.
No...
Bursting out of the bathroom, I spied Ily by the window.
Her face gilded in metallic pigments of red and gold from the setting sun, her eyes never straying from Victor’s private plane as it touched down beyond the wall.
I moved to her side, but we didn’t say a word as the plane came back into view as it taxied on thick grass, its engines screaming in the dusk.
Sighing heavily, Ily hugged her beige knit jumper. Her skin broke out in goosebumps beneath her skimpy black dress. I didn’t think the early autumn chill caused her to shiver but the arrival of monsters.
Masters had returned to indulge in sin and sadism—leaving behind na?ve spouses and transforming into animals the moment they arrived.
I shuddered as the drawbridge slowly clanked open, forming a pathway over the moat.
The final spiels of sunset shone through, welcoming the men to step inside and undergo their metamorphosis of evil.
“They’re a few days early,” Ily whispered, her golden eyes full of worry. Flicking me a glance, she forgot the month-long silence between us and murmured, “Do you think Victor will summon you tonight?”
I backed up.
Another clutch of panic fisted my heart.
I couldn’t answer her.
If he requested my presence, I didn’t know if I’d have the strength to perform like last time.
He’d see right through me.
See me breaking...
She sighed and turned to follow me. Gathering her jumper tighter against her, she whispered, “Henri, I...there’s something I need to ask you—”
A soft plop on the carpet by her feet.
Something dull and plasticy, shaped just like the gems from that godawful treasure hunt.
It rolled to a stop by her foot.
Glancing down, she frowned, blinked, then gasped in absolute horror.
“Oh no...God, no.” Dropping to her knees, she tossed her jumper away and snatched the cloudy gem. “Please don’t be what I think this is.” Her hands shook as she cracked open the faceted container as if it was a grenade.
My heart pounded as if she’d pulled out its pin and it would explode at any moment.
“Wh-Where did you get this?” She ripped out the piece of paper inside. “Did you hide it? Do you know what it says? Why didn’t you say anything?”
I frowned, my ears ringing.
In all honesty, I’d forgotten about it.
A maid must’ve placed it in the wardrobe because I didn’t recall what I did with it once I’d carried Ily into the shower and touched her all over, ensuring she was intact after what those bastards had done to her.
When I didn’t reply, she unfurled the chit, staggered to her feet, and tripped sideways.
I caught her elbow on instinct, keeping her standing.
She didn’t even notice me touching her.
Her face shock-white, entire body trembling.
Reading over her, I scanned the small scroll.
This entitles one of Victor’s illustrious guests a rare and exclusive right to a Diamond Kiss. (Terms and conditions to be discussed on what jewel is chosen and time of kiss given.)
With a sharp cry, she grabbed it with both hands and went to tear—
I clamped my fingers around her cuffed wrist, stopping her. “What are you doing?”
Her gaze landed on my lips as if shocked I’d spoken.
She struggled in my grasp. “I have to destroy this. He can’t know you have it.”
“Victor?”
“Yes!” Fighting me, she cried out as I snatched the piece of paper out of her hand. “Henri...don’t. You can’t. You have to get rid of it. Right now.”
“Why?”
Why had this tiny thing sent her into such a tailspin?
Her panic interrupted mine for once, giving me a quick reprieve from the deep, dark depression I couldn’t shed.
“It’s the prize Peter was trying to find in the storm,” she whisper-hissed as if the cameras hadn’t already heard. “If Victor finds out you have this...” She shook her head, flicking a look at the always recording red dot.
Too late...
Her shoulders slouched as she came to the same conclusion. Tears glossed her golden stare. “Is that why you kept it?” She swayed. “Do you...do you plan on using it...with me?”
My heart kicked at her fear, her hatred. “I literally have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rubbing my mouth, I shrugged. “I’ve heard Victor mention a Diamond Kiss before but don’t know what twisted game it involves.”
“It’s murder, you fool,” she hissed, snatching back the chit and trying to hide it. “A Diamond Kiss is murder.”
“Murder?” I tripped back.
A hot tear ran down her cheek.
The inhuman urge to drink it down crippled me.
I stepped toward her without control, my tongue desperate to lick.