Seth by Nero Seal
The hematoma on his ribs darkened, but the swelling diminished. Seth’s vision kept slipping to darkness and returning with a scattering of opalescent splotches. His breathing grew short, and it was hard to fill his lungs as if something heavy compressed his chest.
His hair stank of the river. The swampy, slimy smell bothered him, so he took a shower then slipped into dry linen pants and a t-shirt. He returned to the underground garage and collected his soggy clothes, then loaded the washing machine.
The symptoms refused to abate, reinforcing that he required immediate medical assistance. Still, he unloaded the truck and carried his shield and the tool belt into his studio.
The painting he had stolen absorbed moisture. Clearing his drafting board, he reclined it and spread the canvas over the wooden surface. The sudden spin of the room forced him to cover his eyes with his palm and fumble around with his other hand to look for support. He stood unmoving, hoping the minute of calm would slow his spinning head. When it didn’t, he texted his physician, David Haas.
“I think I broke my ribs.”
The reply “on my way” came promptly. Fifteen minutes later, a hand that had always smelled like camphor oil touched his cheek then forehead, habitually checking for signs of fever. Seth cringed inwardly but didn’t shy away. With a hand gesture, he invited the doctor inside and escorted him into the living room.
He pulled off his t-shirt. The doctor fetched a hand sanitizer from his bag, and rubbed it into his hands, the sharp smell of alcohol spreading in the air. The light-gray eyes examined him with concern before the doctor placed both hands to his chest, poking and pressing the hematoma.
“Any sharp pain?” Seth didn’t reply, and the doctor winced. “Sorry, a habit. It doesn’t feel all that bad. The bones don’t creak or shift. I think it’s just a crack. Still, I’d like you to come with me.”
When Seth remained silent, the doctor insisted, “You need X-rays, and it’s been four months since you showed up for your checkups. Even if you didn’t message me today, I would have come next week anyway.”
Receiving no answer, the doctor picked up his digital tablet. “You lost weight. I’m going to check your virtual cloud.”
Seth cringed. The doctor hummed, his finger stroking the display. He hummed again, then leveled Seth with a hard look. “Is this correct, or you don’t keep the records anymore?”
Not waiting for Seth to reply, he put the tablet aside, strolled toward the staircase, and disappeared downstairs. When he returned, a heavy thought clouded his eyes, and his gait lacked the bouncy energy that had been there only a moment ago.
“This is all you eat? Olives?”
Seth shrugged. “Eating alone is boring, doctor. And it’s the only food I can taste now.”
“You barely sleep too. Your step tracker shows activities 24/7.”
Seth smirked. “I feel fine.”
“You don’t know how you feel.” Palm against Seth’s chest, the doctor shoved him on the sofa, then squatted before him to look him in the eye. “This all looks painfully familiar. Is there anything else I should check?”
Seth laughed, a hiss in the air. “Doctor, I’m no longer a teenager who can’t take care of himself. I’m not helpless.”
“That’s what scares me most. You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?”
“No,” Seth smiled.
The piercing gaze of the light-gray eyes suggested the doctor didn’t believe him. With a sigh, David straightened up and said, “Put on your clothes. You’re coming with me.”
* * *
Diego pulled overin front of the admission department of a private hospital. He glanced in the rearview mirror, then reached to the dashboard to turn off the engine.
Gustavo looked up from his phone. “Not here. To the morgue.”
“Morgue? You do know that pathologists usually don’t consult alive people.”
“Didn’t you say I should grant Seth’s wish? I intend to give him what he wants. Drive to the morgue.”
Diego narrowed his eyes but didn’t stir.
Gustavo chuckled, rested his palm on Diego’s shoulder, and took his time to explain what he had in mind. When he finished, Diego cleared his throat and shook Gustavo’s hand off his shoulder.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” His voice pitched, he sucked a deep breath, then continued. “I’m not taking part in this!”
“Yes, you are.” Gustavo nodded a few times as if it could help him persuade Diego.
“I’m so not! If this is how you woo people, no wonder it takes you forever to win them over. If you try to impress him, I gotta tell you even he can’t possibly find this sexy or romantic!”
“Shut up and do what I say.” Gustavo smirked. “I’m not trying to be romantic. I want to know how he disposes of the bodies, and I want a little payback for breaking my nose.”
“You are a sick fuck. You are playing with a psycho. When he slits your throat, I will be the first to say ‘told you so’,” Diego grounded out.
“Fine. I’ll do everything myself. Now drive.”
“Okay.” With a shrug, Diego cruised down the road toward the isolated building of the morgue.
The easy agreement puzzled. Gustavo squinted. “Just like that? Not long ago, you were morally obligated to stop me from doing stupid things. What changed since then?”
Diego worked his mouth from side to side as if considering his answer. “As your lieutenant, I do have obligations, but as a party interested in your yacht, I shouldn’t interfere anymore.”
“Fucker...” A playful punch to Diego’s shoulder stirred the wheel, making the car wriggle on the road.
* * *
Seth lay on the medical bed in a private room of the hospital, an ice pack pressed to the left side of his ribcage. Next to him, David Haas lingered in a plastic, uncomfortable chair the way only doctors do when they have time to linger. Relaxed, comfortable, as if resting on a puffy sofa, he scrutinized the medical file resting on his knees as his index finger kept tapping his cheek. His salt and pepper hair spiked from one side from the old habit of pulling on it while thinking.
“Just like I suspected, it’s a mere crack. It will heal in a couple of weeks. Since you are here anyway,” the doctor’s gaze traveled up, fixed on his patient, “Why don’t you stay overnight?”
Seth scrunched up his face.
“You didn’t expect to get rid of me within five minutes, did you? I’ve already booked the MRI room for you for tomorrow morning. I’d like to do a full-body scan.”
Seth nodded.
The doctor slapped his shoulder and got up. “Sit tight. I’ll go, grab some Kinesiology tape. We will check your heart tonight, and tomorrow evening you can go home.”
Seth nodded again, his lids weighed, and the dream swept over him as soon as David’s steps faded behind the door.
* * *
The desert howled.Razor-sharp particles sank into his obsidian skin, sandpapering it. Set tried to blink the sand off his only eye, but the wind kept tossing new handfuls into his muzzle, filling it up again. Set shook his head, ears twitching in displeasure. Through the thick cloak of whipped sand, he couldn’t see a thing.
Usually, storms never bothered him. Today felt different as if the desert rejected its master. The black vortexes, rising from the ground, tore on his garment. He looked for his staff, but his hands were empty, and only the khopesh sword hung behind his back.
His hoof slipped as the wind pushed him in his chest, and the dune beneath his feet drifted. On the verge of losing his balance, Set lifted his hand, fisted the air, and called, “Sha.”
The slippery body of the snake-like creature wound around his leg, slithered up, and settled into his hand. Solidifying, it took a form of a long stick with an animal head. Squeezing the metal in his palm, he raised the staff in the air, and his low voice rolled over the desert. “Calm.”
Black vortexes around his legs dispersed. The sand curtain collapsed to the ground, revealing the red sky with a glowing eye hovering above the horizon.
Deathly hush plugged his ears as even the wind died.
He turned his back to the sun. His chest constricted, and a bitter taste filled his mouth.
On the horizon, SkyBlade, though washed in sun, barely reflected any light. Its lifeless form stood idle, and the tip, not long ago bloody and thirsty, darkened as if rust overtook it. Black dust strewed from it, reversing the glass to sand.
The heart is dying? Why?
* * *
Gustavo waited.He waited for hours for Seth to leave the hospital, but when the ground became lighter than the sky and the main gates closed for visiting, he plucked out his gun and put it into the glove box.
“What are you doing?” Diego lifted a brow.
“It’s a hospital. I don’t think he’s armed, and I don’t want him to feel pressured or intimidated.” Gustavo stepped out of the car, grabbed the long paper box from the rear seat, and strolled toward the main entrance.
“What if he attacks you?” Diego’s voice reached him from behind with the slam of the car door.
“That’s what I’m hoping for.”
“Hmm… I probably should say that this is a bad idea, but I’m too curious to see what will happen next,” Diego said, catching up.
The Haas Private Hospital greeted them with a drastic change of temperature. Outside, heat and humidity crawled under his suit, sticking to his skin like a wet plastic film, in here, the air was dry, cold, with a sharp, clinical smell of the antiseptic.
“Excuse me? Visiting hours are over,” the nurse called. With a lift of his chin, Gustavo gave a silent order. His steps didn’t halt as he approached the emergency floor plan to locate private rooms.
Diego’s voice drifted from behind, sweet, charming, seducing. “Maybe you can make an exception?” Gustavo turned his head to see money transferring hands. Two minutes later, they stood in front of Seth’s private room.
Filling his lungs with air, he turned the doorknob and entered the room. The bluish light coming from the vital monitor washed over the half-naked body sprawled over the narrow medical bed. Wires webbed around Seth’s chest, sticking to his ribs with blue pads. With one hand resting behind his head, the murderer pressed an ice pack to his ribs with the other.
Gustavo halted. Diego’s chest collided with his back forcing him to take another step forward. Without a word, Gustavo lifted his hand, requesting Diego not to follow.
Once again, his mind played tricks on him. Despite the lights out, the room glowed. For a moment, he stared at the white-washed walls, almost luminous in the night with the blue and green reflection of the light coming from the vital monitor, then to the person resting on the bed. The beast who singlehandedly disarmed his security team, deactivated his CCTV, and assaulted his lover and him, slept in front of him. With slack muscles, slender limbs, and a relaxed face, Seth once again looked almost gentle, powerless, frail. His chest rose and fell in rhythmical breaths, and a blue vein throbbed on his throat. Dark circles under his eyes brought an air of frailty.
Such a deceptive appearance,Gustavo thought yet, for some reason, he wasn’t in a hurry to wake Loco. His original plan to have a small payback lost the appeal. He passed the box to Diego and circled the medical bed.
Only now, inspecting the relaxed form of the man, Gustavo realized the reason for his impression of Seth. Above the waistband of his green cotton pants, sharp hipbones stood out, and he could count every rib on the right side of his chest. What he mistook for a powerful build turned out to be a low percentage of body fat covering taut but average muscles. The beast wasn’t powerful; he was skinny. Gustavo looked for signs of fire, but not a single scar marred his chest, arms, or stomach.
Despite Diego’s presence, there was something intimate in watching Seth sleep, something that stirred desire in the depth of his core.
Did he feel the same as he watched me sleep?With a mind of its own, his hand covered Seth’s. The icy touch burned, bothered. He wasn’t sure what he expected, maybe hellish flames to smolder his hand, or the warmth of a living heart to wash his palm in red, but not this rigid chill seeping into his marrow. So cold.Deadly cold…
Like everything in Seth, the touch felt controversial. Chest tightening, heart speeding, Gustavo bent over the beautiful face. Thick lashes cast elongated shadows over Seth’s sharp cheekbones. Dry and chapped, his lips begged for moisture, skin tightened around his jaw, and Gustavo couldn’t decide if the neon lights created the illusion of morbid paleness or Seth looked even more pallid than ever.
A shuddering exhale rippled Seth’s chest. His eyeballs flickered behind the closed eyelids, and his chin jerked to the side. Gustavo stopped breathing as their noses almost touched.
Seth’s breath tickled his lips. A wave of heat, subtle and weak at first, washed over Gustavo’s heart, then rushed down his stomach spreading through his arteries like liquid fire. He swallowed, licked his lips and, never dropping his focus from Seth’s face, inched the frigid hand away from the ice pack.
Sharp fingers stabbing into his wrist made him flinch. Every muscle corded under Seth’s skin as he sat up, eyes cast down. Once again, Gustavo wondered how Seth could be this strong. The vice of the icy fingers nearly crushed his wrist. With effort, he yanked his hand away and retreated two steps from the bed.
Erasing the remnants of his startled expression, he put on a smile. “Good morning. You missed me so much that you visited? I’m touched. Though, I find it a bit rude. You should have called first. Did you find what you were looking for? No? It’s my fault. I should have told you sooner; I don’t keep dead bodies in my home. It’s bad taste.”
Seth stared down at his hands as if he saw them for the first time, then lifted his palm and touched his face. Only then did Gustavo notice his fingers trembling. As if not seeing him, Seth fixed his gaze on the wall, then dragged it to the vital monitor before casting a long stare outside the window at the young moon.
Muscles bulging under the skin,Seth sat on the bed fighting his drumming heart. The dream felt so real that his reality faded in comparison. Even Gustavo’s presence didn’t bother him as it wasn’t nearly as important as the dying heart and the collapsing building in his dream.
With a habitual gesture, he touched his face to make sure what reality surrounded him, then looked around. Through the window, the black sky watched him with myriad eyes. The moon had started growing a new flank, and Seth thought that soon it’d be a month since he took Justin’s heart, and he still hadn’t built the vessel.
Seth threw a sharp glance at Gustavo, his ragged breathing rending the air. His heart drummed in his chest; trembling hands crumpled the bedsheet. All his fault…
His attention slipped to his chest. He fisted a handful of wires, tore the blue pads off his skin, then lifted the ice pack. The black spot contrasted with the white tape fixing his muscles in place. Now, more than ever, the bruise resembled an ulcer on the body of the dying god, the white tape like glimpses of bones beneath.
Ah, my body is giving up... A very calm thought brushed against his mind. Then anger rose at the time he’d lost on Gustavo’s games. Everything went to hell because of this man.
Gustavo’s heart stammeredwhen Seth’s attention finally settled on him. Teeth bared, muscles rippled under his skin as if the beast mentally prepared for a fight. The familiar aura of danger wrapped around him as he slipped off the bed.
“Easy, tiger.” Gustavo threw both hands in the air, palms forward. “I’m not here for quarrel. On the contrary, I’m here to mend fences. Thank you for not killing anyone tonight. I appreciate the gesture. Care to tell how you did it? I’m dying of curiosity.”
Gustavo approached the door, turned on the light, and snatched the white paper box out of Diego’s grasp. “Don’t interfere.”
When he turned to Seth, the man stood next to a low table, a pile of clothes resting on top. The bruise on his ribs contrasted with his milky flesh.
“This looks nasty.” Gustavo lifted his chin to Seth’s chest. “Tell me who did it; I shall reward them.”
Seth didn’t move, eyes following his every gesture. The silence oppressed the room and thickened the air. Once again, Gustavo wanted to hear Seth’s soft rustle, to feel the goosebumps racing down his body. Say something. Talk to me.
Seth didn’t utter a word. Even his usually fluid movements were somehow stiffened as if he wasn’t comfortable in his own body.
“You know, after the hassle you caused,” Gustavo tilted his head as a pang of malice stung his heart and pushed the provoking words out of his mouth, “I thought I should show my appreciation.”
As Gustavo took a step toward Seth, he became aware of the small air exhalations washing over his face, the soft echoes of his steps, the chill air, and his own sharp breathing. Seth was weaponless, still Gustavo couldn’t get rid of the thought that this is how people must feel on the verge of dying.
Adrenaline made blood drum in his temples. The faint scent of myrrh reached him as he extended the cardboard box to Seth.
Showing no sign of distress, as if resigned, Seth accepted the gift. Their fingers brushed, causing Gustavo’s heart to leap to his throat.
Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.The thought stirred at the back of Seth’s mind as a bitterness filled his mouth. The box crumpled under his grip, because all his attention concentrated on the content.
Velvet, deep red roses surrounded a bluish, delicate arm. The curl of the thin fingers resembled a lotus flower, every digit like a petal.
Anger stormed through his chest as he recognized a small mole on the inner side of the ring finger. The room blurred as a lump formed in his throat. With his free hand, he reached to Justin’s hand and linked their fingers.
I promised you that no one would ever hurt you again. I guess I didn’t deliver. The black tip of SkyBlade resurrected in his memory as he fondled the pale palm.
“I said I’d give him back, didn’t I?” Seth’s cheek twitched at Gustavo’s voice. The tranquil intonation chaffed his nerves. “So sorry that I can’t return the whole set yet, but I grew attached to his cold attitude. Anyway, I thought you would appreciate this part the most. Now you have his heart and his hand. You can even propose.”
Seth crumpled the corner of the box in his fist.
“How dare you? Who do you think you are to maim his body?” Seth whispered as he rested the paper box with the severed arm onto the plastic chair with great care, then faced the man. His throat closed, preventing him from speaking again. Cheek jerking, he tried to fill his lungs with the air to contain his emotions, but his lungs spurt it back in sharp, short exhales. This is all your fault… Everything went to hell because of you. You were curious, you fool? Now enjoy the front seat.
Seth grabbed his pants from the table, tore the belt out of the loops. Under his glare, the vivid curiosity faded from Gustavo’s eyes, and his expression hardened.
“I see my gift didn’t please you. Apologies.”
“You think it’s funny?” Seth mouthed. He turned his back to the man, once again glanced at the pale arm. Slender and thin, it didn’t have a single dark spot, meaning Justin’s body was well cared for, probably kept frozen. The clean-cut stump made him wonder if it was hacked off with an ax.
His blood boiled. Adrenaline invaded every corner of his body, making him feel alert, awake.
His fingers found the buckle of the belt, turned a tiny dial in the middle. Two punch daggers sprang out from both sides of the buckle into his hands. The steel burned his fingers, but he didn’t move, hoping Gustavo would come closer and give him a better chance to finish up in one strike.
Gustavo swallowed.As he watched the slender fingers caress the dead flesh, he experienced an uncomfortable feeling he didn’t want to acknowledge. In a way, it was similar to losing an auction and watching an opponent leave with the desired prize—a possessive, ugly feeling of jealousy.
To distract himself, he turned to Diego but only received a blank expression in return. His focus gravitated back to Seth and the tattoo now clearly visible in the warm, electric light. Starting below Seth’s nape, a blue, complex ankh stretched down his spine to the middle of his back; the image of a Was-staff stuck over its vertical bar. No scars here either.
Gustavo frowned. The urge to pluck out his phone and take a few pictures tingled in his fingertips. He drifted closer.
The beast stood unmoving, but his head bowed lower.
Did I upset him? The thought bothered in a weird, perverted way. A part of him wanted to see this man cry, kneel, and beg. To watch him break down to the point where Seth would no longer fight him, but accept him, admit his supremacy, allow the touch. Diego can’t be right. I’m not bullying him, am I? I can’t be into him. I’m just curious, but fuck, I would really like to see him cry now. I bet his skin flushes beautifully.
He was about to put his palm on Seth’s shoulder when the man spun. A blade swished through the air a mere inch from his eye.
“You annoying fly…” Seth rustled. Eyes hard and dry, a corner of his mouth curled up in a horrifying smirk. “I should have killed you sooner.”
The other blade sliced through the fabric of Gustavo’s jacket, across his chest. Gustavo jumped away, mesmerized and alarmed at once. With two punch daggers squeezed in his fists, teeth bared, and his back curled in a powerful stance, Seth once again slipped in the skin of the deathly, magnificent beast.
How fucking gorgeous. Gustavo retreated. He had never seen Seth fight, didn’t know his speed or technique, so rushing into the combat unarmed looked like a stupid idea. At that instant, he regretted leaving his gun behind.
Unblinking eyes fixed on him as Seth flexed his shoulders and charged with another attack. Strike by strike the blades shredded the air. Precise, powerful slashes aimed to kill, not scare. If Gustavo wasn’t in top shape, he wouldn’t be able to keep up with Seth’s speed.
Once again, Gustavo lifted his palms in a pacifying gesture, retreating to the wall. His breathing ragged and sharp, heart drummed in his temples, and his shirt clung to his back. Opposite him, Loco looked unfazed, composed, committed. Not a single drop of sweat beaded on his skin.
“Calm down a bit? Please, put the paper knives away; you might accidentally hurt yourself.” Gustavo threw his body aside, avoiding a knife stabbing toward his eye. The metal clanged against the wall, and the plaster came off and littered the wooden floor.
Seth leaned against the wall, chest rising and falling in a short, shallow rhythm. The rage bared his teeth as he lashed forward, one knife aiming for Gustavo’s stomach, the other for his throat.
Why do I always make him angry? Come to think of it… I wonder what tipped him over this time. He woke up pretty calm. Is it something I said or is it the arm? I didn’t expect him to care this much. Maybe, he needed a whole body for something? Daggers flew at his chest from both directions.Gustavo knocked Seth’s wrists from below with his forearms to deflect the blades away. Heat blazed through his chest caused by the proximity. The faint scent of myrrh woke up odd desires in the depth of his core, the ones he didn’t want to acknowledge. Maybe Diego is right. Maybe, I do have issues.
A zigzag, then a diagonal slash, and a series of stabs forced Gustavo to back off. A sheen of sweat stuck to Gustavo’s back, heat rising.
“So energetic.” He smirked as he glanced at Diego propping the jamb. A lollipop stuck out of his mouth; he observed Seth with intent curiosity. A moment of distraction cost Gustavo. One dagger caught his thigh, ruining his tailored pants. Pain blazed. Warm wetness trickled down his leg. Gustavo gasped; fingers wrapped around Seth’s fist as he pushed the blade away. With his other hand, he intercepted the second wrist, blade inches away from his neck. Blades glinting, Seth drove him against the wall. Their bodies lined up one against the other. The awareness of Seth’s body heat heightened his senses. He felt every bone, every muscle of Seth’s chest pressed to his own, tasted the sweetness of his breath in his mouth. His vision pulsed, cheeks warmed and tingled.
The knife inched lower and licked his neck with ice. “Tsk… Diego, care to help?”
A wet pop cut the air, a lazy, amused voice following. “Didn’t you tell me not to interfere? Either way, if I help you now, it wouldn’t be fair, would it?”
“I’ll fire you.” Gustavo considered kicking Seth in the stomach, but somehow the view of the taped bruise, the memory of the hurt expression on the beautiful face as he’d caressed the arm, didn’t let him.
“Well, technically, I’m not your bodyguard, so I don’t think I’m failing in my duty. Also, I want your yacht.”
“Fucker… I didn’t change my will yet.” Gustavo grounded out, regretting carrying the game this far and once again provoking Seth.
“You what?” Diego pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and tossed it aside. It crashed against the floor, too loudly in the early morning. “If anything, I should let him kill you.”
“Diego!” Seth’s strength amazed. Gustavo looked at the muscles tearing under the smooth skin and wondered how on earth this slender body could possess such strength. Gustavo kept in shape. He worked out six days a week, spending at least an hour a day in the gym. He trained with professional fighters from his security team, and he was bigger and taller than Seth, yet he was already covered in sweat when Seth’s skin was dry.
“Fine…” With a sigh, Diego pulled his gun. “Sorry, Sweetheart, not today. Nothing personal; I’d let you do it, especially now that I know our friend here isn’t trustworthy, but please, step back.”
Seth tilted his head then unwillingly withdrew his daggers. His gaze stayed on Diego for a long moment before he flinched back.
Gustavo pressed his palm to the right side of his throat, then to his slashed thigh before lifting the bloody palm to his eyes. “You cut me! My feelings are hurt. And here I was all sweet and even brought you a present.”
Seth’s mouth filledwith blood, informing him that he’d bitten himself again. He stepped back, linking his gaze with the black muzzle of the gun, then with the tawny eyes of the man with a goatee, until he finally looked into the black holes of Gustavo’s pupils.
The curse of betrayal follows your steps too. Even your people can’t stay loyal. Maybe we are more alike than I thought. After all, it’s always better to have a good enemy than a shitty friend.
“Still…” Gustavo cleared his throat, attracting Seth’s attention to his bloodshot eyes and broken nose. “Lucky for you, I’m in good spirits; I won’t take offense. You can keep the arm and even the painting. Consider it as a consolation gift for your failure. But as I said, there’s only one way to get what you crave the most, and it requires talking. Think about it. You know where to find me, but next time use the doorbell.”
Gustavo left. Seth stood stock still, staring at the gaping door. When it felt like hours passed since the man left, Seth dressed, picked up the paper box, and left the hospital room.
