Alexander was sitting at the edge of Seb’s bed, unsure of how he got there. His brain was like sludge as he watched two of Nico’s men haul the body bag up off the bathroom floor and take it out of the room. He’d stopped crying but his eyes were sore and his temples were pounding. Daisy had left without a word when Nico had entered the room. She had helped Alexander to his feet and she had stared up at him, her bright blue eyes shimmering with tears and her thick black eyeliner running down her cheeks. She had opened her mouth to say something but her lips had been quivering so much that only a sob had escaped them. That was when she had clamped her hands over her mouth and rushed out, almost knocking into Nico on the way.
Now the doctor was sitting right next to him but he was just a blur through the mesh of Alexander’s tangled hair. It was like Alexander was detached from his body as he stared, unfocused, at the beige carpet. His wet clothes clung to his wiry frame. His white shirt now stained a deep pink. The chill of the water had run into his bones, making him tremble uncontrollably. But that was his body. His conscience was motionless. Numb.
“How did this happen?”
Nico’s voice echoed inside his skull. It was the first time he had spoken to Alexander directly since all of this had happened. He had just ruefully given orders to remove the body as Alexander stared. Now that it was only the two of them in the room, Alexander didn’t feel like he had enough energy in him to get away.
“You did this to him,” Alexander rasped. He had screamed so much his throat felt raw.
Nico sighed. “I know in times like this, when you lose someone close to you, it is natural for you to try and pin the blame on someone.”
Alexander’s hands closed into fists. “You did do this to him.”
“How exactly? Enlighten me.”
Nico’s haughty tone made Alexander set his jaw. “You have made us all suffer. The cure- it’s torn down the walls we were safe behind. Now all of our memories are flooding back, taking control of us. Everything bad we’ve ever done- ever witnessed- it’s all there. And it was just too much for him to handle.”
Alexander stared at the open bathroom door, at the watered-down blood dripping from the shower cubicle. He thought back to what Seb had said about the visions of blood on his hands and looked down at his own to see it under his nails. Seb’s blood. Not an image played out by his diseased mind. Real blood. And it felt dirty and wrong and all Alexander wanted to do was scrub it away. But vying with that compulsion was the desperate need to savour it because, as he sat in Seb’s bedroom that was as clean as a hospital room, he realised he had nothing to hold onto as a reminder of his friend. Only his memories. And he knew the bad memories would blot out the good soon enough.
“I took the necessary precautions to make sure things like this didn’t happen,” said Nico. “You were even the one who had brought it to everyone’s attention.”
To this, Alexander finally turned his head. He had been in the same position for so long that his bones creaked like rusty hinges. He glared at Nico, who was sitting up straight beside him, his hands neatly folded on his lap. “Seb is dead. Clearly your precautions weren’t good enough. Just mediocre like everything else you do.”
Nico’s grey eyes set on him. “I did the best I could. It’s not my fault that some people don’t like to follow the rules. It wasn’t me who handed him that razor.”
Nico’s gaze fell and Alexander followed it. His heart thudded. His fingers had unfurled and the red slash on his palm was exposed. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the image of the dismantled razor on the edge of the sink flashed in front of his mind. And the lone blade that had been trapped in the plughole…
It had been him. Alexander had been the one to give his friend the means to put his life to an end. He had been trying to help. Trying to make him smile that genuine smile of his that always managed to get those butterflies in his stomach going crazy. He had just wanted him to be happy.
Maybe he was finally happy now.
But Alexander wasn’t. And the knowledge that this had all been Seb’s choice didn’t make him feel any better. It didn’t make him feel less cheated. He just felt hollow and bitter and resentful. His chance of happiness had been snatched away from him and he had had no say in the matter.
“Was this love, Alexander?”
Alexander sucked in a breath and curled his fingers back to form a fist. “What type of person would see a razor and their first thought be suicide?” Or hold a pair of scissors to their throat. Alexander tilted his head back up to see Nico. Nico’s eyes were slightly widened as he watched Alexander search his face. “A broken person.”
Nico got to his feet and spun to face the door, running his hand under his nose. Alexander detected his delicate sniffle and wondered if the sudden movement had been to hide his tears. Was Nico crying? Was Nico even capable to tap into enough emotion to produce tears?
“You can’t save someone from themselves,” said Nico reflectively.
All Alexander saw was a white-hot flash of fury and the next minute he was lunging at Nico to grab him around the throat and choke him. No, you’re not allowed to say that. Those are Seb’s words. You can’t dirty them with your filthy mouth!
But before Alexander could grab a hold of him, Nico spun and backhanded him across the face with such force that Alexander’s teeth clattered and he barrelled backwards. He tripped over his own foot and crashed to the floor, smacking the back of his head on the bedside table on the way down. He tasted blood and felt it hot and swelling behind his head. He swiped his busted lip. The back of his hand was smeared with crimson.
All he could do was stare up at Nico in utter shock. That controlled veneer of his had cracked and for once, Alexander knew without a doubt that the man standing before him was capable of brutal torture. The way Nico was looking down at him now, nostrils flared, chest heaving and eyes unblinking, Alexander got the sinking feeling that Seb wasn’t going to be the only one leaving this room in a body bag.
“I have given you countless second chances, Alexander, because I see you as a valuable asset. You’re a good public speaker and it would be beneficial for me to have you by my side supporting my cause. But if you continue to refuse to cooperate by declining my treatment and going behind my back, I may decide that you are not worth the trouble.”
That was a loaded threat, the stark contrast between it and his empty promises hit Alexander like another slap across the face.
“Sebastian’s death rests on your conscience, not mine. I am not going to lie and say that he was not troubled. I know you are all suffering. But without your intrusion, he could have been helped. He could have been saved. But now we’ll never know.”
The muscles in Nico’s clenched jaw worked for several moments before his heaving chest lulled and the fury in his eyes diminished. Collecting himself, he cleared his throat and smoothed his hand down his shirt front. “I will expect to see you at dinner shortly,” he said simply in his usual easy tone. And then he turned to walk to the door. “I will need you out of this room so the maids can clean up.”
After Nico shut the door behind him, another round of spluttering sobs took over Alexander and left him convulsing on the carpet. “I thought I was helping,” he repeated between cries. “ I thought I was helping.”
As his mind began to clear and the harrowing reality of what had happened fully collapsed on top of him, Alexander knew there was only one way to clear his conscience for what had happened to Seb. He was finally in a state where he could put right to a wrong he had done. There was still a chance that he could be redeemed. Seb’s death didn’t have to haunt him like the abandonment of his wife and son did. Alexander could do something. And the thrum of adrenaline he felt at the notion gave him enough strength to pick himself up off the floor.
There was only one way that Alexander could put things right.
It would be difficult and he’d have to put everything he had into it if he wanted to succeed. No, he needed to succeed.<
br />
He needed to avenge Seb’s death and the destruction of the sanity of all the rest of the Cured. And the only way he could do that was to stop Nico.
And the only way to stop him would be to kill him.
_____ # _____
Love.
It had always been a mystery to Alexander. A wonderful, enticing mystery.
He knew it existed. He saw it in his parents’ eyes and knew how pure and special it was. Well, right up until his dad had done a runner.
He once thought that it was the best thing in the world. Something unattainable to him because he was awkward and scrawny and couldn’t hold eye contact with a girl for longer than five seconds without blushing from head to toe.
But then he had found it.
And had lost it.
Twice in two lifetimes.
And the pain of that loss outweighed every beautiful little thing love had allowed him to experience.
Waking up to someone in the morning. Holding hands until your palms got sweaty and refusing to let go regardless. The way your heart fluttered as if it was an actual caged bird inside your chest. And the looks that made you feel like you were the only person who mattered to them. Because you were.
All those things had become tainted. Those memories were burned into the back of his skull. He didn’t want them there yet didn’t allow himself the peace of letting them go. His uncomfortable, sweaty palms refusing to let them go regardless. Hoping to cling onto that moment of happiness even though he knew that that time had passed.
Alexander no longer believed that love was the best thing in the world.
It was a beast that preyed on weakness and desperation. It tore him apart with its claws and left him empty and bare.
Was this love, Alexander?
Nico’s condescending voice played on his mind and was bringing more pain to Alexander than the small plump woman who was currently stitching up the rather ugly gash on the back of his head caused by his forceful descent into the bedside table, courtesy of the Doctor Man himself.
Alexander’s nails were embedded into the cushion of the bed in the nurse’s room. His gaze was flickering erratically over the floor as he watched with his mind’s eyes all of his memories of Seb wash over with that acrid red film of gut-wrenching heartache.
Even picturing his friend’s smile made him want the throw up when only an hour ago it seemed to be the only light in his life. It was because that light had died out now. And the fact that he was now referring to it as a ‘memory’ just made it feel too far away.
But Alexander should have seen this coming.
Elizabeth had never had the privilege to love again.
What gave him the gall to think that he could?
When the nurse was finished, Alexander went to his room and redressed on autopilot. Seb’s blood had dried into his shirt and jeans. He kicked them into the hallway to be taken away.
Nico’s disembodied voice announced that dinner was ready and Alexander made his way down the stairs.
The silence in the dining room was like a physical entity and it pooled in the empty seat beside Daisy. Seb’s seat. No longer Seb’s seat.
Alexander and Daisy locked eyes from across the table. Her lips tightened into a white line and tears brimmed her eyes before she quickly looked back down and started eating. Nico, at the head of the table, also had his head bent to his meal.
“We suffered a tragic loss today,” he said. Alexander’s eyes narrowed and set on him. How could he have the audacity to say something like that as if it were a passing comment? He didn’t even stop chopping up his veg!
“Sebastian was a very troubled individual and I did everything in my power to make sure he was not a danger to himself or others.” Nico paused. “But sometimes things are out of your control.” The heavy silence that followed crushed Alexander and he scoped the table, waiting for the accusing glares. But none came. Everyone had followed Nico and had their heads bent, avoiding eye contact. Of course, no one was blaming him. No one besides Nico knew what he had done.
He had unknowingly assisted Seb’s suicide.
The thought burned like being stabbed by a blazing hot poker. Branded. Branded as a murderer. A murderer of his own friend. A murderer of someone… more than a friend.
He could have been more than a friend. They could have gotten out of this place and had a normal human life together. That was what had been getting Alexander through each day. The thought that he could experience what it felt like to be in love all over again. The waking up to someone in the morning. The holding hands. The looks that made you feel like you were the only person who mattered to them. Because you were.
Now that was shattered. And what replaced it? The unruly urge to sink his knife into Nico’s throat and gut him the way Alexander had felt gutted by him. But this time literally.
But of course, he needed to be smarter than that. He needed a plan.
Needing a distraction from his own calculating thoughts, Alexander started to eat his chicken dinner. And finished it. It wasn’t that difficult seeing as his portion was a third of the size of most of the others because he had kept letting his go to waste. He was full anyway. His stomach had probably shrunk to the size of a walnut. But the differences in meal sizes got him thinking. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.
The cogs were beginning to turn. A plan was being born.
Outside on the patio, Alexander paced with his bottom lip pinched between his fingers. He was planning. Because if he wasn’t planning, he was thinking. And when he let his thoughts run wild, that was when he started to feel like he was drowning.
So, he was planning.
Planning to kill the brains of this whole operation and freeing himself and the rest of his unlucky victims. Because there was no way in hell that Nico was going to be able to right everything wrong inside each of the Cured. It was more complex than just popping some special pills. What was wrong was woven into the very fabric of who they all were. That was the problem. They were the problem. Had always been the problem. Nico had just brought it to the surface. And so, if they were all destined to be destroyed by their own minds like Seb, they might as well do it in the comfort of their own homes than this ridiculously sized, swanky prison.
A tap on his shoulder had Alexander nearly jumping out of his skin. He turned. Before him stood Daisy, her eyes wide and shimmering with tears. All of the pointless anger he used to have towards her no longer existed. Instead, there was a clarity and understanding, a raw, soul-deep acceptance that made Alexander’s heart make one huge, heavy thud. Something had changed when Daisy had held him on the bloody bathroom floor. Alexander now saw Daisy for who she really was- someone desperate to put right her wrongs. Isn’t that all he wanted to do, if he had the chance?
Her short blonde hair had frizzed a little and flicked out at her temples from drying naturally. Her face was free of make-up, and she was dressed in her assigned black sweats. Alexander supposed she must have showered to clean herself of the bloody water he had covered her in. In the back of his mind, Alexander had also thought he should have cleaned up but the bathroom just seemed to be stocking up with phantoms. It saddened him because that was the room Alexander most enjoyed. Being in the filthy trenches really made him appreciate cleanliness. And appreciating cleanliness with a partner had been one of Alexander’s favourite pastimes. Not anymore. He could strike that off the list along with dancing at the Crimson Moon.
But killing ones enemy and bathing in their blood was still up there.
For a few more days, at least.
Then he’d be a good little human for the rest of his short, fevered life.
“How are you holding up?” asked Daisy, her voice fainter than usual.
The question made a lump instantly swell in Alexander’s throat. “I’m… I don’t really know. I’m refusing to let it sink in.”
Suddenly, Daisy’s dark eyebrow quirked up, and that was the first crack in her mask. She tried to hold it together but each
reflex was like the fall of a domino in a sequence. First the eyebrow twitch. Then the spasm in her cheek. Then the quiver of her chin. And then the single tear.
“He was a good person,” she said with a sharp hitch.
“He was,” Alexander agreed, managing to keep himself slightly more composed. But when she wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into his chest, whatever dam he had been able to hold his emotions behind caved instantly. Her fingertips dug into his back and he could feel them scraping against his ribcage but that just made him hold her even tighter. She was short and his chin rested on top of her head perfectly. But she was slim, and gathering her up in his arms didn’t feel like enough. He needed someone stronger and sturdier to hold onto. Someone who made him feel safe and protected.
He needed his sister.
He needed Seb.
“You have to be strong, Alexander. We all do. For each other. We’ll get through this together.”
Yes we will. We’ll get out of here together.
Daisy started to wriggle in his arms and her grip fell from his back. Reluctantly, Alexander loosened his hold on her and she looked up into his eyes. Her face was red and blotchy from crying but she was smiling up at him now. “I’m here for you, Alexander. You don’t have to be alone in this.”
“Why are you being so nice to me? You hated me.”
“We’re all struggling. And seeing Seb like that… it just put everything into perspective for me. You gave me a reason to dislike you and I fixated on that when I should really have just let it go. I’m sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I’m hoping we can become friends.”
Friends. It was still an odd concept for Alexander. And since the only real friend he had made in over a hundred years had just killed himself and made him experience such crippling loss that he thought he was going to split at the seams, making new friends wasn’t really a priority. But at the same time, having someone to talk to openly was a big plus. He just needed to remember not to get too attached.
The Progeny Page 48