Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“ D o you really think he killed all of those women?” Dorain said in hushed tones as she sat on the edge of my bed. I paced before her. Maaier and Victor sitting side by side behind me on Dorian’s. Maaier had found out nothing I didn't already know from the police and returned instantly. Not wanting to leave me in my father’s presence any longer than he had to.
I shook my head.
“Why is he back now though?” Victor looked at Maaier who sat chewing his cheek.
“His journey ended.” Maaier shrugged. Leaning back on his elbows. All I wanted was to climb over and have my way with him. A swat to the behind caught my attention. I sat beside Dorian who threw a disapproving look. She leant back the same way as Maaier. My eyes bulged as I realised what she was laying on.
“Why is this stupid old book in your bed?” She grunted, rubbing her elbow.
“I was making notes last night on a medical study.” I lied, pulling it out of her way.
“So that is what you were doing with the strange blank book.” Victor cocked a brow. As if it all made sense to him. Dorian paled beside me. Realising what she had said.
“What book?” Maaier sat forward, dark eyes on mine. I shifted under his gaze. He couldn’t know about the book. Not yet.
“Nothing, just a sketch book I found.” I tucked the book behind my pillow and stood.
“I need you two to watch him,” I said to the men. “As much as I love and trust my father, something is amiss here and I will not rest until I find out what it is.”
The men nodded before leaving the room. Maaier excused himself with another job. No doubt dissipating out through the woods to the other side or wherever it was he went these days. Victor went to check on Grandmother.
“Have you found much in the book?” Dorian said when we were in the clear.
I spilled all of the information I had about the Florian curse and the loveless man and how he became Death. Dorian listened intently. Not saying a word but drinking in the information. She stood suddenly, grabbing her notes before nestling in beside me.
“I knew something was off about my vision. All this time I thought he had killed you but it turns out he saved you. I don't know how but there was no correlation to how you survived that attack but utter luck.” She breathed. Her voice grew shaky as she flicked through her stack of parchment.
“Dorian, I need you to listen to me. Maaier is safe. He will keep me safe.” She huffed but I pressed on, “I don't know how either but he saved me.”
“Death only kills, Vespera. He will take you away soon enough.” She snorted. I bit my tongue at her tone. Holding back my venomous words. It wasn’t worth it.
“So you knew?”
“Always,” She said as she found the paper she needed.
“There was a note in the book about rosemary. The page was marked. Maaier had listed a date there. I checked the records and it's the date our Rosemary was employed here. But it also had the words ‘trust her’.”
“That's why you didn’t go mad at her?”
Dorian nodded before continuing “She felt safe. I saw no harm in her future. But then on the page about roses, he had marked your name. So I went through old books and found a story of a man whose mother was murdered in the street and he buried her in pink roses. Saving his red roses for the woman he loved.”
“The young man in the strange book’s mother died. He mourned her for years. Avenging her soul any chance he could.”
“The man in this story went on a murderous rampage. Killing anyone who looked like that man. But the man never found love. The story ended with him drowning in his own blood.”
“The loveless man did that too. But the book hadn't shown me anything further than him dying.”
Dorian ordered me to open it. And sure enough. The ink spread across the paper. Dorian draped an arm over my shoulder. Huddling close to look at the book. But her eyes found nothing. They remained still.
The words bled to life before me.
The loveless man awoke alone. Something he was used to but dreaded everyday. He felt no pain. Despite not moving for days. The god had watched him sleep that night. Making sure the gift was complete. The god knew his worth. Knew that his young love would return to him. The god kept a shred of that young soul. A single fibre that he would offer to Life to weave into the future. Life did not like this at first but after having watched the horror of the man's life. She agreed. She wove the soul through a bloodline. A wealthy bloodline that matched the thread. Each woman was still cursed but the thread would be their only offer of a cure. Unbeknownst to the man, he became the Reaper. A man who would carry souls to the God of Death. Aiding them into whatever belief of an afterlife they had. He would carry them without complaint. Each and everyone a new love lost. They fascinated him. He had asked about his mother’s soul to which the god told him nothing. He was not at liberty to ask again. The soul called for him. He listened. The sound like bells on the wind. He smiled as he approached the old manor. A place where he was reborn and for that, he was grateful. He searched for the soul. Only to find her weeping in the place he died. A hand on her belly. It was not her. Not his lost love. He had to remind himself but the image was remarkable. He knelt before her. Holding his hands out for her to take. Her body lay in the bathtub beyond. Blood pooling over the sides. He held her hand to the otherside. Noticing that shimmer of red thread that danced through her eyes. Each time he returned to the manor was the same. The same crimson thread lining their eyes. He couldn't mistake their beauty. He knew within himself they belonged to him. He learnt from the god that these women of this bloodline were his.
It was his choice to select the one most matched to him but he never made a choice. Instead he would wait for a suitor who matched them and gave them their colour when they found their love. For only he could restore it. He watched the bloodline dwindle. Each woman met a grizzly end. As if life were torturing them for a part unknown. The man sought comfort in a woman though, a young woman cursed at the age of twenty three. The same black hair as his first love but not the same woman overall. He thought she loved him. But he did not love her nor did she love him. He adored her for her companionship but he knew his beloved was on its way. It was no surprise just how much it anguished him to watch her soul refuse him. To stay on the earthly realm in the hopes of protecting her child. A woman whose soul matched the loveless man. A soul tainted by darkness.”
The sketch appeared on the page. Heat filled my eyes. My mother lay on the page. Smiling as she painted the loveless man. A man whose face I had come to love.
The words faded once more. Dorian remained still waiting for me to speak first. The smile on her face was pure wonder. “It was Maaier all along.” Was all I could manage for Mary bustled into the room to prepare us for dinner.