Episode 5 #3
While speaking to one elderly woman, he paused in front of a medieval sword with a sign on the display marking it as a loan from the private collection of Richard and Linda Reevesworth.
“I’ve never seen either Reevesworth at an auction,” he mused.
The woman waved her hand in dismissal. “It probably came from their uncle’s collection. Richard and his husband only ever buy what they like. And it doesn’t matter who it’s by or how valuable it is. I hear Moreau picks up pieces at street fairs as often as he spends money at a gallery.”
Sevastyan raised an eyebrow, fitting that in with the rest of the information he was putting together around Gang Junseo.
“Who knows what Reevesworth and Moreau even have.” The woman’s friend wandered over, a man in his late fifties carrying a glass of champagne.
“They live in a tiny condo here in the Loop most of the time. There’s hardly room in it for half of what they must own.
It must all be up at their Estate. Someplace over the state line. It’s never open.”
“Wisconsin?” Sevastyan asked.
“Grand place,” the woman said. “Beautiful, or so they say. But do invitations ever go out? No.” She laughed in a way that showed she was taking offense. “Reevesworth and Moreau are frightfully private. They have their reasons, I suppose.”
Sevastyan smiled pleasantly, encouraging her to go on. “Moreau is a painter, though, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but he never sells, and if he gifts his work, no one is admitting they have pieces,” the man said.
“Is he any good?” Sevastyan asked.
“Good?” The man laughed. “I’m hardly educated enough to know.”
The woman shook her head, smiling politely in a way that didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s a matter of opinion, I suppose. Isn’t all art? But he has three of his pieces hanging in his offices. He’s good with capturing light, I’ll say that much.”
“What of Linda Reevesworth?” Sevastyan inquired.
“Oh, she buys art,” the woman said. “But it’s usually for something she’s designing or building. Actually, I think it’s usually her assistant who seems to choose what she buys. Elli . . . Ellish . . . the last name is Sollunae, I remember that.”
“Ellisandre Sollunae,” the man said. “Odd one. Very fashion forward. Or retro. They outbid me once.” He winced.
Sevastyan chuckled gently, because it was expected. He clinked his glass against the man’s. “Happens to the best of us.”
“Yes, well,” the man sighed. “It was a beautiful piece. Now it’s hanging in a university community center of all places.”
Sevastyan moved on. Rei fell into step beside him.
“What else do you want to see?” Sevastyan murmured.
Rei hesitated. Sevastyan sipped from his glass and raised a dangerous eyebrow. Rei would choose something or there would be consequences.
“Landscape in Light: The Tiffany Window,” Rei murmured.
Sevastyan nodded once and turned. He gestured for the closest free staff member, a department head for the Institute. “Could you show me the Tiffany Window?”
The man was pleased to do so. He spoke at length on the history of the hundred-year-old glass window as they walked the halls and into the open staircases leading to it.
Sevastyan let him lecture, interjecting at appropriate intervals, knowing that Rei was collecting every bit of knowledge from the experience.
The window was beautiful. The staff member made suggestions for a few other pieces that were related. It was late by the time Sevastyan left, his phone filled with a few more names and phone numbers and a tentative promise to bring an auction to Chicago that summer.
The wind from earlier had let up and the real feel of the temperature had risen.
“Are you cold?” Sevastyan said. “The truth, please?”
“It would be nice to walk, cold or not,” Rei said. “I’m warm in this coat.”
“Keep your hands in your pockets, then. We can pick up food instead of ordering it in.”
They fell into step, side by side, the sidewalk largely deserted.
“Master?”
“Yes.”
“Permission to speak?”
“Granted.”
Rei’s shoulders were tight. Sevastyan watched out of the corner of his eye. It took a moment before Rei managed to go on. “I think we could recruit Lisa.”
“He hates them enough, but until the chip is out, it would be suicide.”
“You think he’s not already dying?” Rei said. “What if we could disable the chip?”
“Do you have a plan, precious?”
Rei gave Sevastyan a darting glance. “I want to trust him. He only hates you because he thinks he knows what you are. He was brighter for a few days, right after the fever. Now he’s fading again.”
Sevastyan replayed the last few days in his head.
Lisa had been quiet, eating properly, taking his supplements and doing light exercise as directed.
He still slept for long hours but that was to be expected.
“He’s still close to Alexi. Every time he wanders, he goes back.
If he wanted to die, all he had to do was stay away. He still loves him.”
Rei nodded. “You love Alexi. And you’re still plotting to bring him down.”
Sevastyan stopped walking.
His slave faced him, not backing down. “I love Alexi, Master. He saved us. Winning is going to be bitter. That doesn’t change what we’re going to do.”
Thoughts refused to settle into one pattern.
Sevastyan stared at Rei’s eyes. There was quiet acceptance there.
These weren’t new thoughts to his slave.
He wanted to say Rei was wrong. Loving Alexi fell outside his own morals.
Alexi was a means to an end. Sometimes it was comforting to go to him.
His estate and homes around the world had become places of refuge.
He could drop a couple pieces of his mask but never the full mask, not like he could with Rei or Ellisandre.
But he couldn’t deny Rei’s assessment. There was warmth in his chest when he thought of the older man who had taught him how to walk like a master through the underworld.
Rei blinked slowly. A lone snowflake caught on his lashes and melted away.
“I don’t know if what I feel towards Alexi is love,” Sevastyan finally responded. “I feel warmth towards him.”
“Attachment,” Rei said. “There are too many definitions of love. But what Lisa has for Alexi isn’t so different from what I have towards Alexi. If Alexi had me, I’d be like Lisa. I’d give him whatever he asked in service. And I’d slowly fade.”
“Lisa is different from you. He lashes out.”
“We have different souls,” Rei murmured. “Fading for Lisa won’t look the same.”
Rei
A sense of wrong filled Rei as soon as he and Sevastyan stepped into the condo. Lisa’s shoes weren’t in the shoe box. It looked like they’d been thrown across the room and hit the wall. There was a dent in the wallpaper and the shoes were on the floor several feet away.
Sevastyan held up his hand, signaling Rei to stop.
Rei crouched, holding the handles of the two bags of hot food, making himself a smaller target.
His head was clear and empty, all attention focused on his master.
Sevastyan clicked the safety off his gun and spun around the dividing wall to see into the living room.
No sound. Then Sevastyan’s footsteps. Rei stayed where he was.
“Rei,” Sevastyan called.
Rei left the food on the floor and came around the corner.
There were things strewn everywhere. Couch cushions had been pulled up and thrown.
The coffee table was closer to the back wall than the couch.
The two single-person seats were overturned.
In the middle of it all, leaning against the couch, that had been moved several feet from its original position, was Lisa.
Left leg was sprawled out in front of him, right leg was drawn up.
One of Sevastyan’s handguns dangled from his fingers.
There was blood on his face and his hand.
He had a thousand-yard stare, as if he didn’t know Sevastyan or Rei were there.
Sevastyan gave Rei a hard look and cut his eyes towards Lisa.
He jerked his head towards the rest of the rooms and signaled that he was going to make a sweep.
Rei gave a quick nod. He dropped to his knees and crawled to Lisa.
The other slave didn’t move. Rei knelt in front of him and reached out, lifting the gun from Lisa’s hand.
Lisa blinked once, his eyes slowly focusing.
He watched Rei take the gun, check the safety, and set it on one of the overturned chairs.
The safety had still been on. At least there was that.
Lisa might not fade so much as go out in a blaze. Rei swallowed back tears. It was Lisa’s right, just as Rei’s plans were his own.
Sevastyan stalked past, gun no longer visible, and returned to the front door.
Lisa’s eyes widened. He tracked Sevastyan until he disappeared and then watched the corner until he returned sans his coat and boots and with the hot food Rei had abandoned.
The food he put on the coffee table where it had been moved.
Rei stood up, getting his own shoes and coat off. Everything was a minefield except for Sevastyan. There was something so wrong with Lisa, so beyond what he or Sevastyan could touch. There was no trying harder for this. No being kinder, or more there for him.
It was just wrong. And it was killing all of them. Lisa was just going first.
Sevastyan started to open the containers of food. He spoke softly without looking up. “I can’t say you didn’t warn me. You called yourself a guard dog and then I didn’t take you for a walk.”
Rei’s hands curled into fists. He was not going to shake.
He was not going to cry. This was just one more horrible thing in a line of horrible things.
All he had to do was stand there until it was over.
There was no use resisting the terrible.
It happened either way. Refusing to believe it was madness.
Accept. Accept. Accept. And breathe.
Lisa swallowed once, still not moving, not even a finger.