Hidden Mortality (19 page)

“No, that’s fine. I’ll check the list.” Cara watched him walk from the room.

Vincent’s desk was extremely tidy like everywhere else. There was an in-box, out-box, pens and pencils, the guest list and a pile of books. Cara scanned the list. As she expected, mother and father were there. There were also a few well-known people from about town on the list. They would have to make sure they brought plenty of business cards and sample menus with them. As Daniel pointed out, it was a smart way to round up more customers.

She wondered if she could get a copy of the list. Vincent was still talking outside the door. His voice rose, but then he moved away.

The special requirements wouldn’t be too difficult, except for one. He’d better be worth it, because they would have to do a completely different meal for him. What did he live on? He was allergic to milk products, animal proteins and required a gluten free diet.

She would try and make him see that he could still enjoy food. Maybe, there was another string to her bow. People with special dietary needs probably thought companies like hers couldn’t be bothered with them. It was a niche market, but could be added to their existing format. It wouldn’t take much to adjust the menus.

She tapped her fingers on the desk. There were about six books piled there. The bottom two had modern covers with garish scenes. Cara read the blurb.
Ritual Killings, Their Meaning in Today’s World.
Well that’s a nice bedtime reader.

Cara picked up the next volume, Anne Rice’s
Interview with a Vampire.
The third book was a copy of
Grey’s Anatomy.
The next two books were something about artifacts from the past.

Then, there was a little black book with nothing written on its spine. Its leather cover was damaged and scratched. Cara reckoned it was old. Most of the stuff in this house was except the owner. Cara opened it. The pages inside were yellowed with age.

The title page said. “
This is the True account of Mr. Robert Middleton’s Life. 1744…”

Cara flicked through a few pages. As she read, her stomach clenched in a knot. Vincent’s steps echoed in the hallway. She slammed the book shut before he entered the room. He walked in calmly. Her hands were clammy.

“I’m so sorry. That took longer than I expected. Have you had enough time to work out if you’ll be able to accommodate the needs of my guests?”

“Yes. I wonder would it be all right if I had a copy of the guest list?”

“Of course.” He printed out the list for her. When he turned back to her, she could see he was watching her closely. “Are you all right? You’ve gone extremely pale.”

‘I’ve a bit of a headache coming on. I’m so sorry. I believe we’ve covered most things though.”

“Of course. Please fax me if you have any concerns.”

Cara was glad he didn’t follow her out to the van. The open air outside was refreshing. She gasped for breath. The house had almost suffocated her.

“Cara.”

She didn’t need to turn to know who was calling her. It was her mother.

“I just received my invitation. I think this is going to be a wonderful opportunity for you. There’ll be lots of big names there. You’ll be able to branch out and then you will be able to get someone else to do the cooking.’

“Don’t you think that kind of defeats the concept? I do this because I like to cook.” She should have bitten her tongue.

“I’m so glad I introduced you to Vincent. He would be an excellent catch.”

“As far as Vincent is concerned, he is a client, Mum. I don’t mix business and pleasure. I can find myself a boyfriend. In fact, I have a new man in my life.”

Cara wanted to kick herself. Now came the Spanish Inquisition. When her mother met Seth with his shaved head and bike leathers, there would be a ritual burning at the stake.

Anne pursed her lips. “You must bring him round. Your father and I would love to meet him. What did you say his name was?”

Cara had the distinct impression her mother thought she was making it all up. “I didn’t say, but his name is Seth. Mum, I have to go. I’ve a headache coming on.”

Cara breathed out a long sigh of relief when she drove off. Her mother had gone inside already. No parental wave to be seen in the rear view mirror. Cara’s mind went back to what she had seen. The knot returned to her gut. She peered across at the book on the seat next to her. It would be okay, she thought. She’d return it on the night of the party. He wouldn’t even miss it.

Chapter 19

Cara picked up the book she had stolen from Vincent. What she had read had freaked her out, which was something for a person coping with being in love with an immortal. She needed to read it again though.

She passed over the first twenty pages or so, which talked of Robert’s trysts with one of his housemaids called, Lillie and his nights of drunken debauchery with his friends.

Robert Middleton wrote,
I have retold everything that led up to the events of the night in question. Now, I will tell what happened to Lillie. My friend William’s manservant came not long after dark with a message for me. My friends had decided to go to his estate, Basset Manor instead. It was no surprise. His father’s wine cellar was something to be envied. William intended on draining it, if that was possible for one person to do.

I will not excuse my actions where Lillie was concerned. My friends were wrong in what they did. I was young and thought nothing of the consequences. I wanted to drink, fornicate and hunt until my father said I had to marry. Arriving at Basset Manor, I was taken to the drawing room. William burst in, smartly dressed as always. He might not have the looks. He had the money to make himself appear superior. He held what looked like an old yellowed piece of paper.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Robert. You cannot believe what we’re about to do. Harry found this parchment at his uncle’s estate. It appears the old man had been on travels in Eastern Europe and unearthed knowledge on this cult. They believed this ceremony could give immortality to those that undertook the deed.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked though I was not sure I wanted to know. 

“Read it, Robert. Then join us in the cellar.”

It was ridiculous that they could believe this. The paper explained that a female was to be copulated with and then murdered as the men spoke sacred words. Cuts were to be made across her brow and her abdomen.

The knife was described and illustrated. Its two-headed snake design caused me to shiver with distaste. If William had a body ready in the cellar for killing, then I would watch. Life would be tedious soon enough when my father expected me to take over the estate.

I continued to read the parchment. It rambled on about a Lord Valselef from some obscure Croatian province that discovered some ancient texts and a dagger. He had believed a demon had made the dagger and inscribed it with words of power. It would grant immortality if the killers of the victim performed the act and willingly offered him a part of their souls. One day, the demon Kocshie would be able to join his followers when he had a complete human soul.

There was a picture of the way the body should be cut. Also there were foreign words, I did not understand. I read that they were to be recited at the time of death. For the briefest moment I thought about who the poor unfortunate was, but the thought was fleeting as I drank and read on.

Lord Valselef wrote how his attempt at immortality had failed because the girl he killed was pregnant. The demon could not take or alter power from an untouched soul. The victim had to be impure and the unborn child was an innocent. Valselef had misunderstood and had paid the cost. He had written these words before he lost himself to madness.

I poured myself another glass of wine and made my way to the cellar. On the floor in the middle of the room, William moved on top of the woman they had acquired. The other young bucks cheered him on loudly. The cellar was dimly lit with candles. As I walked closer, William groaned his release.

The girl was still in her underclothing with her petticoat pulled up around her waist. She wore a mask of silver, which hid her real face. The mask was cherubic and somewhat grotesque. Somehow, I did not think the wearer would be wearing such a smile.

What little I could see of her eyes were glazed over and she didn’t move. She was drunk or drugged, most likely both. William would want her subdued. He would not want to get his countenance scratched. Standing, he pulled up his trousers, turned and smiled.

“So glad you decided to join us. Now, we can get on with the deed in hand.”

I helped myself to a bottle of claret. As I sipped, I watched as my friends ripped the young woman’s clothing apart. I took the blade when offered and sliced across her abdomen. The others did the same. The blood flowed down her sides and soaked into her shift. She did not respond as we cut her, possibly due to laudanum.

“We need to remove her mask and make cuts to her forehead before the final stab,” William said.

I drank too fast and was going to vomit. Maybe, it was all the blood. Perhaps I was not as strong as I thought. I headed for a bucket in the corner of the room and emptied the contents of my stomach. When I returned to the table, they had removed the young woman’s mask. They had sliced through her forehead three times with the knife. Her face was a bloody mess. There was something familiar about her hair. It was a rich auburn color.

I joined them. I placed my hand around the hilt of the blade along with the others as they held it above her heart. William started to recite the words from the parchment. As they pushed the blade under the skin, something caught my eye.

In the folds of the material of her shift was a shiny object. I watched mesmerized as the blood from her wound welled and trickled down the side of her body. The object sat in a pool of congealing blood. It was my mother’s broach. I had given it to Lillie to pay her to rid herself of our child.

“What’s wrong, Robert? You’ll not turn squeamish on us now the deed’s almost done,” William asked.

“You’ll not succeed,” I said.

“You mean that immortality rubbish. It does not matter. We were here for the kill. Why would we not succeed? What do you know, Robert?”

“She carries an innocent.”

“You bedded the bitch. Well, this is a good night’s entertainment that we’ve rid you of a problem as well.”

I have watched over the past two years as they all went insane. One drowned himself. Another threw himself in front of a coach. William locked himself in the cellar and set himself on fire.

Five years have gone by since that night. I often wonder why I still live. Maybe, it was because the innocent was my own blood or maybe because I took the time to make sure she had a decent burial. Whatever the reason, I took the broach and sold it. The money I gave to her family. They took it and asked no questions. It was one less mouth to feed. I do not deserve any sympathy and have never asked for any. I know I wasted my own and other’s lives.

I have arranged a hunt this afternoon. My horse will take a start and run towards Cradle Bluff. They will find him wandering at the top and my body at the bottom.

As Cara put down the book, her hands shook. This wasn’t a work of fiction. It was clearly a man’s account of what had happened to him. The thought chilled her. There were too many similarities to everything else in her life to dismiss it. She was scared. She needed to talk to Seth. This book and its events may have taken place a hundred years before he was born but he would know something.

Janet walked into the forge and placed a tray with coffee and homemade cookies on the workbench. Seth kept working on the statue. It was almost finished.

“I hope you like this coffee. Henri told me about these beans. Life’s too short to drink instant coffee, he said, and I’m inclined to agree with him.” She sipped the steaming brew.

Seth loved the aroma filling the air, but didn’t want anyone here right now, not even Janet.

“It’s beautiful.”

She walked around the sculpture. He felt naked. His skin prickled as if this piece had gone too far and he revealed too much of his feelings. He was a fool to put himself on display this way. The truth was if it hadn’t been for the sculptures he would have been locked away years ago.

“It’s Cara from the catering company, isn’t it?” Janet smiled, as she reached out to touch the head of the sculpture. Her hand stopped.

He shut his eyes and lifted the coffee to his lips. Why did he feel such intense anger that Janet, or anyone else would touch his creations? Cara knew his secret now. She accepted him. He had loved others who were prepared to accept this madness. He had lost them when he lived on. This time he didn’t want to lose what he had found. In his long life, he never felt the intensity he had when making love to Cara. He couldn’t give it up.

“I’m sorry. I know how you don’t like having your things touched. It’s just this sculpture’s different. It draws you in and makes you want to touch it.” Janet offered him a cookie.

Seth shook his head. “It is Cara.”

Janet smiled. “I go away for a week and look what happens. She seems a nice young woman. I sense pain in her past. My husband always thought I was crazy when I came out with things like that. I’ve been right enough times now though to realize there’s something in it. You could do with a bit of happiness. Don’t fight it. I’m glad I’m not the only one, who got lucky last week,” Janet laughed.

Seth joined in. He hoped this Frenchman knew what he was letting himself in for, but doubted it very much.

Janet gazed back at the sculpture. “Take care, Seth. I’ve accepted you’ll see me die and many others after me. You’ve already experienced living long and losing love. By your own admission you don’t deal with it well.” Janet reached out and touched his arm.

“She knows what I am, Janet. Like others before her, she accepts it. Like others before her, I’ll lose her. All I want is to live a life with her and die when we’re old. I can’t.” He walked past his table with knives and absently touched them as he spoke.

“You may live a lot longer, Seth, but you still only live each moment the same as the rest of us. Just try and enjoy the moments.”

“It’s easy to enjoy the moments with her, which makes it harder.”

“I’m an older woman who has made enough mistakes to be able to give advice. You’re rough and ready, Seth. I’d have been tempted by you a long time ago. You’re a decent, honest and troubled man. My man in France is probably less trouble, even with his neighbors. It sounds to me like you’re in love, which means you’ve only one choice. Enjoy it. Accept the pain when you lose her or get out now.” Janet picked up the coffee mugs and left.

Seth stared at the sculpture. Janet was right. He would end up in pain. She would be the one dragging him home from the police station where he ended up drunk and disorderly again.

He would fire up the forge and keep himself busy. Heating the metal, he shaped it to his will. It was about the only thing he could control. He wanted her, and wanted to be at her apartment, making her want him now. He wanted to draw her to him, to be on top of her. He’d make her yell his name as he drove his body into hers.

The blade was good. It wasn’t his best, but it would sell. He placed it alongside the others. Heat, sweat, hammering. It did nothing to lessen the anguish, the anger, the wanting. Someone should die for this pain. Strolling across to the window, he saw the light on in Janet’s room. She would be on the Internet to Henri.

Seth stared at his watch. It was only six o’clock, but it was already dark. He hated winter with its evenings that drew in and got dark so early. He turned back to the sculpture. He’d made it well. The face had that come-hither smile. The breasts were those a man could lose himself in, he had lost himself in them.

He was lying to himself. There was only one reason he had told Cara everything. It was revenge and freedom from this curse. He was getting close. Looking at the sculpture, he knew he couldn’t let other feelings stand in the way. He couldn’t afford to love her. He picked up his mallet. He had to stop the insanity that would only end in pain for everyone. He would become her protector from a distance again.

The first blow was the hardest as he smashed into the side of the face. He had to do this and destroy what he loved. He had made a promise long ago. He brought the hammer down again and again. The pain he felt in his muscles was nothing to the ache in his heart and mind at his action.

“What are you doing?”

The mallet was in his hands, hands that were shaking uncontrollably. A voice, someone had said something. A question drawing him back. The anger withdrew to be replaced by the usual numbness his life contained. He viewed the pile of smashed stone; a remnant of a shape that might have been an elbow was present, or a piece of smooth inner thigh. The mallet dropped from his fingers. He fell to his knees by the rubble. He wanted to weep, but he couldn’t. Any tears he would shed had disappeared years ago when he lost the ability to cry. Why couldn’t he just die?

“Rosie. Why did you do this to me?” The words ripped from his throat. Arms came around him.

“It’s all right my darling.”

Soothing words whispered in his ear, ones he didn’t deserve. Of all the people in the world, what was she doing here? Didn’t she know she deserved so much better? If he had any sense, he would send her away.

Cara knelt before him, looking into his eyes. She kissed his lips. She kissed his cheeks. She kissed his eyelids and then returned to his mouth. He knew at that moment, he was a person who would continue to hurt and cause others pain for eternity, just for the love he felt at this moment. Her lips were warm and soft and he wanted them again. “Cara.”

“It’s all right.”

“You don’t understand. You shouldn’t be here.” Seth said. “You shouldn’t be with me. I’ll hurt you. You need to leave.”