Much of Madness (The Conexus Chronicles Book 1)

by Summa, S. E.

  When he regressed to witness the curse, Seraphina had wrapped her entire body around him. Her left hand was curled under her chin. She still held his hand with her right. Her torso pressed his side and her knees were curled against his back. Her eyes were open, but she saw none of his torment.

  She was beautiful, even in death.

  Khat laid her hand on Finn’s chest. “She did it for you, Finn. I feel you still, but only a spark. Fight it. Do not let her sacrifice be a waste.”

  Khat bent and grabbed his slack jaw. Her glamour fell. With skin shimmering, and her breath rolling out as a thin, golden fog, she bent and kissed Finn. As her lips parted from his, a faint line of the metallic mist swirled before entering. Tiny shards of light traveled along the mist from her lips into his open mouth. Finn took a short breath and her body trembled. More power flowed into Finn’s mouth and he jerked his arm. Khat’s body shook violently.

  “Khat, that’s enough. Stop.” Marceau pushed her shoulder back. Without pause, she leaned forward again aimed at Finn’s lips. “Khat, his pulse. He’s alive.”

  Marceau placed her hand against Finn’s throat below his jaw where he saw Finn’s rapid pulse.

  Khat whimpered and closed her mouth. A final wisp of the sparkling fog escaped from her nostrils. She trembled as she bent and kissed his forehead. “Finn,” Khat whispered.

  Marceau asked, “Can Seraphina?”

  Khat shook her head, “I don’t feel her spirit. She let go of her body and pushed herself across the veil to save Finn. I’m so sorry.”

  Khat squeezed Marceau’s free hand.

  Marceau had no djinn powers, no magic spells, but he bent and lowered his face to hers. “Seraphina, I was there. I… I almost stopped her…” Tears fell in steady lines down his cheeks and onto her face. He exhaled and closed his eyes. Grief squeezed his heart until he could not breathe. “I’ll never forgive myself. I love you, too. But I failed you.” A lump filled Marceau’s throat, making further speech impossible. He closed the short distance to her lips and kissed them gently. Reverently. Her lips were as warm and soft as he had imagined. He kissed her upper lip and then her full lower one. Leaning back for a moment, he studied her. If only his kisses could wake her, but Marceau was no Prince Charming, and this was no fairy tale.

  “She’s gone, Finn,” Khat explained. Finn was awake and propped up on Khat’s lap. Tears streamed down his face. The purple was already fading from around his eyes.

  “We need to get her on the bed.” Marceau forced the words out. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. For the first time, he pulled Seraphina gently to his chest and held her in his arms.

  “Let me help.” Finn tried to right himself.

  “No.” Marceau shook his head. “No,” he repeated, softer. “I have wanted to hold her for so long. Let me, please.”

  Marceau cradled her closer. Her face rested on his chest. He carefully rose to his knees. Her arm fell and the back of her hand smacked against the floor. Marceau had a flashback to another dead girl, Babette.

  If he’d known she was going to die, Marceau could have had Max here to… No. Seraphina would never want that, to be connected to a monster like Max. Don’t even think it. His thoughts warred, as part of Marceau wished she’d died in the presence of his benefactor so he could have reanimated her.

  Marceau gulped and took a deep breath. He shook his head, trying to clear images of Seraphina as an Ette.

  “Let me help, Marceau.” Khat waited until he nodded before she lifted Seraphina’s limp arm. She laid Seraphina’s hand against Marceau’s heart. He looked at Khat, letting his loss and pain show in his eyes. Khat’s features were blurring in and out of focus and it wasn’t from his tears. Her glamour was slipping back and forth out of place. Whatever magic she transferred to wake Finn had cost her. Her eyes were sunken and she looked frail. Marceau buried his face in Seraphina’s silky hair and told himself to never forget her scent. He planted his foot, standing, holding her… unable to decide what he should do next.

  Khat helped Finn to his feet. They leaned against each other heavily, looking as though it took both their strength and efforts to keep the other upright.

  “Maybe you could lay her on the bed, Marceau,” Khat suggested in a gentle voice.

  Marceau turned and stepped that direction. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to Seraphina’s before bending to ease her body down onto the mattress, taking care to adjust her until she lay perfectly on her pillow. “She is on the bed. Now, what?” He laid her hands on her stomach.

  “Now we find a way to bring her back, no matter the cost,” Finn replied without hesitation.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Marceau didn’t know what to do. Sit or stand? Scream or remain silent? Fight or give in? Call Max for help or trust in his new friends?

  Khat gripped the bedpost. She swayed from weakness, and yet she repeated the spell over and over. She held her free hand over Seraphina. Weakened magic, shimmering white with a golden hue, flowed over Seraphina. It floated around her until the essence lightly encased her body.

  Khat collapsed and Marceau caught her in time. He lifted her into his arms, amazed at how light she was. Her glamour was completely gone now as she fought for consciousness.

  Marceau turned to check on Finn who was slumped in the antique chair beside Seraphina’s bed. He stopped staring at her long enough to nod at Khat. “Thank you, Marc. Please help her to our room. She’s given too much magic, but at least, she’s suspended Seraphina’s body. She will remain unchanged until we can find a way.”

  “Must rest,” Khat whispered, her voice faint.

  “Of course, Khatereh. You have done so much to save those you love today,” Marceau answered softly. He carried her to the bedroom she and Finn shared and laid her gently on her bed, covering her with a down comforter. “Thank you for your gifts,” he whispered and kissed her forehead.

  Khat smiled and was asleep before he reached the door. He closed it quietly and leaned back against the hallway wall.

  Marceau hesitated, not wanting to go back into Seraphina’s room. He could think of only one way to bring her back and that might not even work, but he was willing to pay the price. Any price, as long as she came back. Max would finally get what he wanted. But was it too late?

  When Marceau returned to the living room, Finn sat straighter on the couch and said, “I have a plan. I need the basket of candles on my bookcase and both the chalice and the dagger on the shelf above my chest of drawers. Can you get them for me while I get set up?” He staggered to his feet.

  “Sure, but set up for what?”

  “There is no time, Marceau. Candles, chalice, dagger,” Finn repeated.

  Marceau ran into Finn’s bedroom to collect the items. He dropped the basket of candles in his haste and had to steady his hands as he picked them back up. Pulling the dagger from its sheath, he frowned. These runes are those for Sin Eating. Why did Finn want the tools of a Sin Eater?

  Seraphina had already crossed the veil and had no evil deeds that would open her body as a vessel for possession.

  Marceau slid the dagger back into its sheath and picked up the chalice. He brought the requested items back into Seraphina’s room and laid them out at the foot of her bed.

  Finn entered wearing a flowing, black robe and carrying a dusty bottle of wine and a loaf of the Amish baked bread they sold in the apothecary.

  “Okay, here are the items you requested.” Marceau gestured toward the bed. “But I hardly see how the tools of a Sin Eater will help her now, Finn.”

  “They aren’t for her. They’re for me. Set the candles all around the bed, but don’t light them yet,” Finn instructed.

  Finn twisted a wine opener into the cork of the wine bottle. He pulled the cork, then swayed, still weak from the hex’s attack. Placing his palm on her bedside table, he caught his breath. Then he pulled a chair closer to Seraphina’s bed and fell back, collapsing into it.

  “Are you strong enough to do whate
ver this idea of yours is, Finn?” Marceau asked. He placed the multicolor candles in a regular interval on the floor around the bed. The tall ones had elaborate carvings from tip to tip.

  “The candles will have to fully burn and extinguish before I can begin. That will give me time enough to rally my strength for this. I’ll have all the time I need to recover once she’s back with us.”

  Us.

  Finn no longer excluded him as an outsider. He finally accepted that Seraphina and Marceau belonged together, only now she was gone.

  “And what is your plan, Finn?”

  “I’ll offer everything I have in exchange for bringing her back, but it may not be enough. Are you willing to sacrifice to bring her back too, Marc? Is your love for her strong enough you would choose her well-being above your own?”

  “Yes, of course. I would sacrifice much if it meant having her back alive and well. I’d give my life if that was what it took.” If Finn’s plan didn’t work, Marceau had already decided to make a bargain he’d swore to never, ever consider.

  “Good, I have a feeling you may be asked to pay a higher price than me tonight. I don’t know that I have much more to give this time.”

  Asked by whom?

  “Just be careful what you promise.” Finn closed his eyes. “My price was much higher than I could’ve ever imagined when I agreed to the bargain.”

  Marceau tried to decipher the carvings on the candles. Who or what was Finn planning to bargain with? “That’s the last of the candles.”

  “Starting with the one to the left of her head, light them.”

  “Widdershin?” Marceau lit the first candle. “Counterclockwise opens the other realms, Finn.” He bent and lit the second. “What do the markings mean? Who are the candles calling?” He lit a third.

  Finn said, “Her powers are similar to the powers of Death himself. They’ve been so ever since this blasted curse took hold of her.”

  Marceau froze.

  “She sees ghosts, can communicate with the dead, and if she wanted, I believe she could raise all the spirits in a graveyard at will. When she is determined and focused enough, her power knows no bounds.”

  Marceau stared at Seraphina. He knew she was powerful, but she rarely used her magic. She didn’t even like to talk about it.

  Finn continued, “It is only her innate goodness, her complete lack of hunger for power and control, that keeps her from using her unusual magic in a selfish manner. Imagine what she would be capable of if she didn’t hold back? Why, if she offered to sell her services, there are many, human and supernatural alike, who would lay the treasures of the world at her feet for a chance to communicate with their dead.”

  “Finn,” Marceau stood perfectly still. “This is vitally important. Are you calling Death here? Have you bargained with him before?”

  “Death is the only one who can give her back to us now, Marc.”

  Marceau rounded the bed and stood in front of Finn. “Have you bargained with him before, Finn?”

  “Yes. How do you think I became a Sin Eater? It was his price. I admit I didn’t fully understand all those years ago, but I would do it again.” Finn shuddered. “I have choked on, have relived and suffered countless sins. And for Seraphina? To bring her back? Every pained moment of my damned existence has been worth it.”

  Finn sat up straighter and held out his hand.

  “But you can never tell her. If… when we get her back. She doesn’t know I bargained with Death. She thought I became a Sin Eater as part of the curse. I-I let her believe that. I’m afraid it would damage her. That guilt or pain would break something in her, Marc.”

  Marceau stared at the candles. He only lit three. Maybe it wasn’t too late to stop this. “Finn, do you know why Death demands so much from those desperate enough to accept his little bargains? Do you understand he serves only his own larger purpose in every single thing he does?”

  Marceau ran both his hands through his hair. The damned fool.

  “What more could Death possibly take from me? Look at what I have endured already.” Finn responded. “So, he’ll make me agree to another fifty years of Sin Eating, or a hundred. I made it this long. I paid him with fifty years of service and survived. I’ll just have to find a way to keep going.”

  “Most of Death’s Sin Eaters don’t last as long as you have. I thought your extraordinary pallor was because you were a true born, you’d survived being a Sin Eater for such a long time because it was in your true nature. Almost all of them go mad, Finn. They turn violent and hurt innocents. Or their fury burrows inward until they commit suicide. That’s why I assumed you were a true born.”

  Marceau couldn’t wrap his mind around it. He’d been so sure Finn was born a Sin Eater.

  Marceau continued, “I could tell you had fair hair in the regression though colors were indistinct. I thought you a Sin Eater even then, just not a well-practiced one. Figured you for one who chose to leave the Las Vegas compound and mask themselves as a Spellcaster.”

  Finn asked, “Why would you think I was only pretending to be a Spellcaster?”

  “It was something Seraphina said before the curse, that your magic affected luck and chance. It supported my theory that you were undercover and trying to lead a normal life back then. Luck is easily manipulated. Simple hexed items can help the odds fall unnaturally in your favor. I’ve seen it a hundred times in my study of curses. I thought that was your big secret—that you had been a Sin Eater all along. I did not for a moment believe you were one of Death’s creations.”

  Marceau was pacing. Again, he scrubbed his hands through his hair. There had to be something he could do. He now understood what was coming. It would make Seraphina’s sacrifice to save Finn a waste. Marceau stopped and sucked in his lip. He took a few deep breaths. He was damned either way. If he told Finn what Death would demand, Death would know of Marceau’s betrayal. On the other hand, if he did not warn Finn of the danger he surely faced, then Marceau was betraying his friendship to both Seraphina and Finn. Khat too, he added.

  “You never answered me. What else could Death possibly want, Marc?” Finn moved to the edge of his seat. Sweat beaded above his lip and on his forehead. Though Finn did not know of his present danger, he understood the severity of Death’s bargains.

  Marceau winced when looking at his friend.

  My friend.

  Marceau understood in the moment that he truly was no longer alone. Finn was his to protect. He’d found what he’d always wanted most. Marceau had found true love with Seraphina. He had found true friendship in Finn and in Khat. Marceau was not an outcast here or an observer. All three of them accepted him, and at some point, they became his too.

  Marceau’s decision was made and he knew there would be a price, but he would deal with that when the time came. “Your soul, Finn. Death will bargain for your soul.”

  “B-but, Death is impartial. He’s not supposed to favor good or evil. What would Death possibly need with a soul?” Finn asked wide eyed.

  “Your soul has known a thousand of sins by now, right?”

  Finn nodded.

  “The fact that you can sit here rational and functioning is a miracle, Finn, a true damned miracle. You have a strength, a fortitude, that is extremely rare and makes your soul more attractive to Death. He’s only crossed the line and collected a few souls throughout time. He’s enslaved only the strongest to carry out his demands.”

  Finn said, “I’ve already followed his commands. I’ve eaten the sins of many after he demanded it. How is that any different?”

  Marceau had to make him understand. “You would have no free will remaining, Finn. No apothecary, no home, no Khatereh. Death would make you a soldier. A minion infected by Death’s own power. In my lifetime, he’s never taken a Sin Eater, but he has searched far and wide for one. Death even dismissed a few true borns as too weak for whatever purpose he has derived for a Sin Eater. I’ve often wondered what need he has, but whatever it is, I know it will be unbearable.
When it comes to Death’s bargains, many wish he’d simply taken their lives. Finn, I fear you’d know no moment of rest from your servitude to Death for all of eternity.”

  Marceau sat on the edge of the bed facing Finn.

  “He may have set his sights on you already. If so, you’ve been targeted. Death will go to any length to draw out chosen souls. He tricks and manipulates them, making them desperate. Then, at the moment they are most vulnerable, he takes the one thing they love most. He knows courage and strength make them suitable for his needs. The same qualities that will make them sacrifice themselves to save someone else.”

  Marceau turned back and looked at Seraphina. She was the key to Finn’s soul. He wondered if Death already knew it?

  Finn said, “I’m scared. Terrified, actually. But if that’s what it takes…”

  “Stop.” Marceau lunged forward and grabbed Finn’s arm. “Do not say it out loud. Ever, Finn. Words carry weight with Death. Just slow down. There has to be another way. Let me think.”

  Marceau stood again and paced. Finn was in danger. Seraphina was across the veil. What other options were there? How could he protect Finn and save Seraphina?

  The biting cold of the hex still clung to his bones, and he grabbed his jacket from the floor and slid it back on, hands into the pockets where he touched the velvet bag inside.

  “That’s it. The Curse Regression.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Marceau ran the few steps back to Finn. “When the hexes united, did you see anything? Did you have a flashback or a vision?”

  “A memory, yes. I saw the night we were cursed. It was strange. Like I was back in my body, but I couldn’t change anything. Only reliving each moment from when she suddenly loved Aedan right up until Seraphina died. How did you know? Did you see it too?”

  “No, but I did have a vision from that same night. I was in a dark forested swamp. I watched Mirela weave the hex. She had more power than I’ve ever seen and paid for the curse’s strength with a pain tithe and then with her own life. Finn, I know her, but not as Mirela. She goes by Lynette now.”