Chapter 19:

Blaine had always considered the notion that you could physically ‘feel' your heart beating was ridiculous; a written fiction relied on too heavily by those who believed language poetic. But as he stood, rooted to the spot with the barrel of the gun pressing insistent kisses to the back of his head, he realised the truth in the line. At that precise moment, Blaine had never been more consciously aware of the movement of blood in his veins and the steady rhythm that throbbed against his ribcage.

Seth hadn't spoken after the initial interruption, leaving the gun to do any further communicating. He'd held it steadily trained on the young Lord as he approached, watching with satisfaction as the figure before him shrank into his teenage self as he inched nearer until he pressed the cold steel against the soft dark curls of the boy he'd reared. To his credit, Blaine had remained stoically silent, shoulders and neck tensed as he felt the gap close until the nudge against his head had him visibly shaking. Seth couldn't tell if it was with hatred or fear but mused it was probably a combination of the two with an air of detachment.

When he positioned himself behind the other man, he paused, savouring the thick heavy silence that dragged through the air and appreciating the drama of the moment. He took a deep breath contemplating the downy tight spiral of hair at Blaine's nape and thought again how like a child he still was. So little growth really from boy to man. So little transformation of any worth. It was with an almost wistful sigh when he finally spoke.

"You know I think perhaps you are my greatest disappointment Blaine."

The Lord flinched at the words but refused to turn around. The odd tone of the advisor slid over him and he felt sullied by the ambiguous note of wearied affection that hung in the air. He closed his eyes and bit down sharply on the inside of his mouth to focus himself away from the cold steel.

"Aren't you going to ask me why?" Seth continued conversationally. Blaine bit down harder tasting the sharp tang of metal as he pierced the skin.

Nudging the gun against his hairline to ensure his attention, Seth huffed in slight irritation. "Turn round. I can't be having a conversation with the back of your head. There that's better. So much more polite, so much more a conversation when you can see each other's eyes eh?"

Blaine regarded him coldly, noting the almost manic sheen to the darkly black pupils of the man opposite. "You're insane." He growled low, his voice quivering in the static room.

Seth's high pitched, staccato laugh exploded, unchecked into the air and he grinned wildly as the gun remained steadily focused. "Insane...hmmm." He nodded affectedly before the grin disappeared into a tightly drawn sneer. His eyes darkened further and his voice dropped lower as he held Blaine in his icy stare. "I essentially am not in madness, but mad in craft."

"You murdered her." Blaine whispered. His eyes slid from the gun to the monster behind it as he felt something inside him throb and contract. "You pushed her."

Seth's smile did not waver as he continued to trail the gun over the contours of the young Lord's face. He sighed softly, exhaling a wearied breath before locking his eyes back in place. "She was a problem." He shrugged nonchalantly and Blaine shuddered again. The ease of the statement fell so simply from his lips and the horror of it sliced through Blaine's heart.

"I don't understand." He said again, willing his voice to hold steady but feeling with irritation the hitch at the end of the word. It hadn't gone unnoticed and the advisor raised an eyebrow quizzically.

"What's there to understand?"

"What you get from this. Where's the victory?" Blaine's eyes flicked back to the barrel before he forced them back on to the darkness of Seth's face. The other man's eyes had narrowed and a look of unrestrained triumph slid across his twisted features.

"I could have waited." He began. "I would have waited for you. You wouldn't have lasted long in this game but I'd hoped I'd trained you well enough to survive the years necessary to build us up. To continue your father's plans. I would have done it side by side Blaine." His eyes had clouded slightly now, as if his thoughts had wandered into some almost wistful unfulfilled memory. Blaine blinked, frozen.

"I spent years on you." Seth suddenly spat out, the gun wavering slightly in his hand. "I wasted so much time on you and now I can barely look at you. You disgust me."

 The transformation from softly spoken musings to projectile venom sent Blaine reeling and again he questioned the sanity of the man in front of him. Baffled, he watched cautiously as Seth's face darkened. "I knew you were weak. Your choices make you weak....... but I thought I could break you of that. Little pansy Blaine and his disgusting weakness for pretty boys." He sneered again and raked his eyes over the other man's flesh enjoying the squirm of discomfort.

He laughed harshly again, "I even thought I could work that to my advantage. No likelihood of an heir. No possibility of being usurped. Do you remember Blaine when I used to bring you all those boys? All those boys, all of them on their knees for you Blainey. Can you remember? I was almost proud then, you know." Something must have been reflected in Blaine's eyes because Seth's icy veneer slipped suddenly. "You think you've changed Blaine!? You think that wasn't you because I remember Blaine. I remember the times I could hear those men screaming. You're no different Blaine. Just remember that. You're your father's son in every way."

The tingling behind Blaine's eyes had started again and the throbbing in his temple. He felt his skin burning as the shame at Seth's words spiralled through his veins. It was true. I had been true. Not anymore. Not after.....not since Kurt."

The effect must have been evident as Seth's shoulders relaxed a tiny fraction and his arm held firm again, the gun once more dictating the rules. "You asked what I get Blaine." He said voice louder and more controlled after his outburst. "What do I get?" His arms spread wide in a sweeping arc and he allowed his face to break into a cruel grin. "Everything!" he laughed.

In the split second that he saw Seth remove the gun to gesticulate around the room, he acted.

Throwing back his arm and aiming indiscriminately, Blaine punched him with all the unskilled force he could muster.

****

The driver pulled in at the imposing wrought iron black gates of the Anderson's property, killed the engine and plunged the vehicle into sudden darkness. Kurt looked up quizzically from the dreamlike trance the car had lulled him into for the last hour of the journey and stared out at the landscape beyond the glass.

"Why have we stopped here? The house isn't for another mile and a half...."

"Not passable I'm afraid. Not going any further in this weather. I'll be stuck for hours. You'll have to go the rest on foot."

He glanced at his watch before noticing how dark it had become outside. He'd been travelling for the entire day, stuck in some sort of limbo state of suspension in the plush leather of the vehicle and perhaps a walk would do him good. Clear some of the muzzy haziness from his head before he faced Blaine again. He wasn't sure what he could say; was hoping that perhaps words wouldn't be necessary and that Blaine might just accept his appeal for salvation. He was hoping that Blaine would understand. Something in his chest warmed a little at the prospect of Blaine and his arms and the mansion not far from his grasp and galvanised him into action.

Clutching the slim leather handle of his holdall and pulling his scarf tighter around his face, Kurt turned towards the drive. The house was obscured by the trees that thickly lined the driveway and the meandering nature of the path left the destination hidden. The snow had begun to fall again but softer this time and there was a beauty to it, Kurt noticed that he had not appreciated before. This time the snow was no longer leading him into subservience. It was no longer offering Kurt an icy grave of escape. Each time he'd travelled this path, the blanket of white had felt like a shroud, concealing, suffocating and fighting....but now... he smiled. Now the white seemed to offer a sign of newness. Something fresh and comforting.

He glanced behind him at his gradually disappearing footprints; no trace left of his past presence. Looking back towards the mansion he thought he could detect a soft glow of light through the dense pines and closed his eyes briefly, stealing his breath. Watching the winding lines of unmarked snow ahead of him, Kurt shouldered his bag and took a determined step forward.

***

Blaine had had two options: to reach the gun or to go for the door. In hindsight, perhaps the gun would have been the better of the two.

Crouching in the shadows of the books that had been in his family for generations, Blaine cursed his earlier decision making.

When he'd punched Seth, he'd thought only of distracting him and getting away, the immediate desire to get the gun from out of his face compelling him forward. They'd watched in startled horror as the gun dislodged from Seth's grasp and skittered to a stop several feet from the pair of them. Blaine had glanced at the weapon and then back up to the advisor's face, registering the dark almost wild look in the other man's eyes and made his decision. They'd moved at the same time; Blaine diving for the gaping doorway just as Seth flung himself on the weapon.

He'd taken the servants' stairwell, almost careering head first down the narrow twisted flight of stairs as he'd launched himself several steps at a time. He'd half expected to hear the shot behind him, anticipating the surge of pain the inevitable sound would bring. But no shot had come. Logic told him that Seth could be no more than a few seconds after him but when he'd finally allowed himself a moment's pause to look behind him on reaching the lower level of the house, he'd found he was completely alone.  Rather than reassuring him, the pitch black of the west hall had seemed ominously deserted.

He'd ended up in the older part of the building. Here the mansion expanded in a warren of corridors and smaller rooms, unlike the east side of the house that contained the ballroom, dining room and lounge, largely used for receiving guests. The west of the house was unused, rooms musty with age and disregard over the years where the numbers of family members had dwindled over the decades. Ducking into the protective shadows of the nearest doorway, Blaine had allowed himself a moment to catch his breath.

He'd cocked an ear, listening for any sound of footfalls but all he could hear was the distant murmur of creatures in the woods off to his right and the alarmingly loud ticking of a grandfather clock, stood dustily against the faded brocade of the wallpaper. He knew he needed to get out, that his position had just been made even more precarious and weak by his lack of weapon. He'd felt a surge of disgust and ill-timed indignation at the reality of the situation. The mouse scurrying through corridors of his own property. Hunted.

He'd glanced into the room; his eyes automatically seeking out the French window that backed on to the bank of darkened pines to the rear of the house. He'd watched the soft flurries of snow settling against the ground and felt the increasing cold settle against his heart. Tracks. There would be no escaping the blinding flair his footsteps would leave and the helpful trail they'd grant his pursuer. Not to mention the reality of his lack of warm clothing and the hostile environment he was about to flee to. Something painful tightened in his chest when he pictured his mother's face again, the darkly mocking smirk of Seth's confession flashing into his consciousness. The clock ticked again loudly. He needed a weapon.

Turning away from the window and the pull of the woods, Blaine had re-entered the hallway and glanced along the corridor to where the East and West wings joined. The library stood between the two sides of the house, the cavernous archives beckoning him even as he contemplated the concealing rows of books. Blaine calculated the distance between himself and the solid dark wood of the doors. He knew the marbled hallway would leave him momentarily exposed and vulnerable but he also couldn't shake the image of a smaller oak door with a secure gold lock that sat snugly at the back of the great library. The hunting store.

Taking a deep breath and holding no heed to caution now, Blaine had launched himself out of the darkness and flung his body against the mahogany doors with all his might.

*****

The house was in total darkness when Kurt emerged from the trees, standing silent and aloof in the blackened shroud of the mountains. Nothing stirred in the frosty air that enveloped him as he neared the building and something in the looming façade of the mansion made Kurt pause, reluctant to inch closer suddenly. He wondered momentarily if the horror descending was an instinctual reaction, a lingering residue from the previous journey through those gates, but dismissed it. He knew the house held none of its previous horror for him since Blaine. No, some new fear was sliding over him now as he retraced his steps through the gloom.

There were no sounds, no sign of life at all except for the snap and sway of the neighbouring trees as he reached the heavy oak doors and the pewter doorbell hanging from a thick, heavy chain. His fingers reached for the bell, grasping the cold metal before he froze. Something was wrong. Although not normally awash with noise, the house had always had some kind of constant presence about it; servants and butlers and maids wandered the corridors and clattered about with pots and pans in the downstairs quarters. But now there was nothing. The house seemed cavernous and devoid of any signs of sentient life.

He watched his hand fall from the pull-chain, as a new fear gripped him.

Blaine

***

Blaine crouched in the shadows, breath struggling raggedly out of his lungs as he attempted to remain quiet.

Blaine glanced across at the small door that lead to the hunting store only feet away from him and swallowed down his frustration. The distance was so small; steps away.

4, 5, 3, 7, 9

4, 5, 3, 7, 9

The five-digit code for the lock system thudded through his head as he looked from keypad to marble floor to keypad again. The gulf of exposed aisle that separated them yawed menacingly.

4, 5, 3, 7, 9

Somewhere to his left, rubber soles squeaked against marble. His breath caught as he felt the air shift.

He could just run for it. In his head he tried to calculate the time it would take for Seth, wherever he was in the library, to reach him. Would he have time to reach the door, punch in the code and then reseal it before the advisor caught up with him?

In the darkness, the sharp click of a barrel slotting into place echoed loudly. 

Before the bullet caught up with him? The sound was close. Definitely off to the left but close and getting closer. Blaine's eyes fell to the books in front of him and he breathed in a shaking, silent breath.

"You heard that didn't you Blaine?" The icy voice punched through the darkness shattering the air. It also sounded alarmingly close now. "You know what that was, right Blainey?"

Crouching lower, Blaine inched stealthily from the voice, curling his body away from the hideous sound.

Seth's laugh rang out across the stacks, echoing through the volumes of books. "Now where could our little Blainers have been heading...hmmm? What could he possibly have been looking for in the library?"

The footsteps were heavier now, no attempt at concealment. Blaine could hear them pounding closer on the marble veneer and wondered if it was possible to breathe when your throat had entirely closed up. Back to the bookcase, Blaine moved deeper back, sliding around the end of the row and moving on to the next. Painfully he realised each step was taking him further from the gun store.

"You never were much of a hunter were you Blaine." Seth shouted conversationally. "Never really took to the sport huh? Do you remember that wolf hunt we went on when you disappeared? Do you remember Blaine? I do. Little Lord Blaine and the big bad wolf." He laughed again and the voice became darker. "Never did find out where you'd gone that day. Run off into the forest to be at one with nature did you?" Sarcasm dripped through the air. "The little compassionate Blaine and his inability to kill. Still a problem Blaine? That kill instinct?.......or have I made that one a little easier?"

From Blaine's position now, he could see out of windows that stretched from floor to ceiling at the back of the library, reaching out on to the empty darkness beyond. It took him a moment before he registered he could just make out the reflection of the advisor in the glass, a shadowy outline several rows away. The gun flashed silvery in the moonlight as it rested beside the reflected image.

"I think I might have just pushed you enough now, don't you? I think there might just be a tiny shred of fire in there now eh? he laughed again hollowly. "bit ironic though now isn't it? Now I'm the one with the gun and you're the one covering amongst the books."

Blaine watched the gun raise slightly as the back of Seth's reflection moved further away, before spinning around again. His breath caught as he watched Seth's eyes blaze in the window before the advisor swivelled and spoke again. "Don't you want to know why Blaine? Don't you want to get right inside this little head of mine and ask me why? I know you do. It's a bit dull really but isn't it always what everyone wants to know? His voice took on a mocking tone. "Why the killing Seth? Why the murder? Humans are so disappointingly predictable really aren't they Blaine?"

Blaine choked down his response, biting his tongue again as he slipped closer to the window, its latch beckoning him.

"Would it be cheap of me to say money Blaine?" Seth's laugh shuddered through the stacks. His voice took on an artificial lightness. "I almost wish it were something more, I don't know, maniacal but there it is. Just money. Nothing more. Nothing less." 

The reflected figure walked away from him, scanning the neighbouring aisles as Blaine pressed himself flat to the protection of the books. Seth's voice continued, now, enjoying the game of cat and mouse. "The thing is Blaine, it really is only what I'm owed. This house.... The money...... Even these books" he laughed cruelly before his tone became dangerously sinister. "You see I paid for this Blaine. Thirty-five years and I've paid for this in every way possible. I'm owed it." He paused in his tirade before turning round sharply. His eyes locked on to Blaine's in the reflection, the glass bouncing back the smirk of triumph in the older man's manic stare as he discovered his prize.

"And when you die.......I get to take it."

****

Kurt concealed himself against the darkness of the trees and stifled his scream of terror at what he saw through the library window. Blaine stood cowering against the heavy stacks as the shadowy figure of Seth inched closer, gun waving wildly with horrifying intent. His mind whirled as an avalanche of fear and confusion and panic crashed over him. Only one thought burst through with blinding clarity, forcing all logic and caution aside and propelled him forward.

I cannot lose Blaine.  

****

Everything happened at once. Time seemed to momentarily split in to parallel lines and everything became a blur of noise and movement.

Seth swung the gun around, propelling himself forward as Blaine launched himself in the opposite direction away from the reflected image. A shot rang out deafeningly in the silent library, echoing off marble and Blaine felt a sudden thrust of icy air punch through his chest as the door was wrenched open behind him. Spinning in confusion, Blaine saw a flash of a ghost white figure to his left, before something thumped down heavily across the back of his neck. Stumbling to his knees, staggering and coughing as he tried to focus through the fug of dizziness that drowned him, Blaine thought he could make out two figures struggling on the wine red rug before him. Blinking through the searing pain in his head and his confusion, he could make out grunts of two men scrabbling on the floor as they grappled with each other. He could see Seth writhing, arms pinned to his sides, gun still clutched in his imprisoned fingers, beneath the body of another man.....another body that looked startlingly familiar.

Kurt

"Kurt?" Blaine's voice choked out of him as he tried to make sense of the blurred scene before him. The sound of his voice seemed to startle the young man and he momentarily broke concentration, his head whipping up to lock eyes with the lord at the sound of his gasped name.

A moment was all it took. Seth seized the opportunity, driving his knee up forcibly against Kurt's groin and scrabbled away as the younger man doubled over in pain. Without thinking, Blaine launched himself at the dark figure of his advisor, sending both men crashing to the floor. Blaine grabbed at Seth's wrists, thumping the hand clutching the gun repeatedly against the marble floor as he tried to pry the weapon from his grasp. They rolled together across the floor, legs and arms flailing punches and kicks before careering in to a nearby side table and shattering the oriental lamp as it smashed against the tiles. A second shot fired out across the floor as the grappling bodies made impact.

There was a dull grunt of pain and Seth's eyes broke contact for a split second. It was all Blaine needed. Grabbing beside him for the largest fragment of broken porcelain, Blaine's fingers scrabbled against the floor. Finally making contact with something and snatching up a ragged piece of lamp, Blaine stabbed downwards with all the force he could muster.

The flesh of Seth's neck yielded instantly; Blaine's hands washed with blood as he drove the crude weapon in further. Seth screamed out a gurgling sound before emitting a strangled whistle of air and slumped backwards against the floor. His mouth, hung open, twisted in pain as he struggled against death for several seconds, eyes frantic in choked panic. And then it was over. Seth Schoen's body contracted once and then was still. A puddle of crimson pooled beneath him in a macabre pillow.

Reeling back at the horror of what he'd just done, Blaine staggered off the broken figure of his advisor and collapsed against the floor breathing in ragged gasps of air into his too tight lungs.

"Blaine.."

The voice was reed thin, a whisper of breath in the darkly silent library. Blaine's head shot up as he took in his lover, hunched over, several feet away. He stared in confusion at the tear streaked crystal blue of Kurt's eyes as they searched his Lord's face, pain etched across his porcelain skin. It took him two seconds to notice the slightly waxy grey sheen to the tightly drawn lips and another second before he heard the wheezing gasp that escaped them. It was only then that Blaine looked downwards and took in the tightly curled fist pressed against his former sub's stomach and noticed the scarlet pattern eking out across the fabric of Kurt's grey shirt.

It was half a second more when Blaine heard himself scream.