Chapter 12: Ulterior Motives

Beaux felt the cloth of Meliah's dress, damp and warm from the blood. He cringed as some of the scarlet wiped unto his hands. In a desperate attempt to rid of the enticing aroma, Beaux thoughtlessly began to remove the soiled garments. He had already untied the back of the gown before Vincent reminded him of his lack of propriety.

His hands dropped to his sides immediately, and still blushing furiously, Beaux rushed out of the room and called for an old female cook to handle the matter.

Vincent watched Beaux's every move with intense curiosity. Beaux's eyes darted from side to side agitatedly – first to the door, then to the floor. Beaux's fingers wound and unwound. Beaux's body shifted restlessly he placed his weight on one foot, then the other.

The anxiety that was emanating from Beaux was filling the hall as though the very air surrounding them was becoming heavier with every sweat drop.

Vincent could not help feeling relieved when the cook came out with the bloodied clothes. Another instant of Beaux's fidgeting and he was sure to get sick.

Beaux sprinted into the room and plopped himself on the floor next the head of the bed.

The worst of the bleeding had stopped. All that remained of the incident was a bright, white wound on the top of Meliah's neck. His fingers hesitantly ran across its length and it was burning. Save for the subtle undulation of her chest as she breathed, Meliah was motionless.

"I'm terribly sorry," he whispered as he brought her limp hand to his lips. He kissed each of her fingertips.

"I do not understand," Vincent suddenly murmured. Beaux watched him shuffle into the room, looking extremely revolted. "She's just a human."

Beaux turned away and gazed at Meliah with unrestrained admiration. His voice was soft, "It does not matter whether she is human or not."

"She is simple. There is nothing extraordinary about her. She is naïve and ugly," Vincent said.

"I could care less."

"This is what you are going to risk your life over?"

Beaux looked at him again, his eyes unflinching. "Yes."

"But – she is just a human!" Vincent exclaimed. He frantically gesticulated and his eyes were wild with panic. There was something increasingly desperate about his voice.

"I would love her if she was an ogre-"

"I'm sure you would!"

"- and yes, I would. I love her because she is no one but herself. And that means everything to me. Being human has nothing to do with it all! It's my heart – my heart!"

The room echoed with peals of maniacal laughter. Vincent nearly doubled over in his hysteria. He clutched the door frame with one hand and his side with the other. "She said that same thing, your mother," Vincent hissed.

"You killed her," Beaux said dangerously.

"NO I DID NOT!" Vincent screamed. His sudden outburst shook the room so severely that even Meliah murmured discontentedly in her quiet slumber. Vincent's green irises became a pitch black as they dilated uncontrollably. He stood with his body rigid, and his nails pierced the wood until the surface was marred by thick slashes.

Beaux went on, unfazed, "Yes, you did. You made her kill him as you tried to make me kill Meliah tonight. But I stopped. I-"

"I did not kill her."

"Yes. You did."

"No! She chose to die. She wanted to die," Vincent shook his head furiously as he spoke.

"Because that was the only option you left her," Beaux retorted.

"No, I gave her many options - thousands of choices! She could have taken any path, but she did not."

"You made her take the life of the man she loved. How did you expect she would recover?"

"But he was only a human, a human I tell you," Vincent whispered back. He clutched his chest distraughtly and dropped to his knees. "He was stupid and wretched. And…and me… Look at me!"

Vincent gestured to himself as to emphasize the gorgeousness of his physique. Then, frustrated and confused, he put his face in his hands.

Beaux watched his father and felt a sudden surge of sympathy. It was as though he was looking at his reflection. After all, how often had he spent his nights mourning his love? But his anger was hardly diminished.

"You should have let her go," Beaux said sagely. "You broke her."

Vincent shook his head. "Don't pretend you could have done differently!" he spat at Beaux.

Beaux's look of surprise seemed to hearten him.

"You're planning to kill that girl's lover!" Vincent accused. His volume frightened Beaux, whose green eyes flitted to Meliah before he tried to push Vincent out the door.

"Shut up!" Beaux ordered through clenched teeth.

But Vincent easily pushed his son aside. "I've heard to talking to yourself at night, going over the murder, making sure there are no problems – no evidence that will link you to homicide. Oh, but it won't be a quick death for the poor lad will it? You're going to make sure he feels every ounce of pain you can possibly inflict. Then when he's out, you can come and take the prize. You can't endure a moment of your jealousy and you are preaching to me?! You've deceived the girl you claim to love and you think I left your mother no options?"

"Please!" Beaux begged, his voice straining, "Please, don't say anymore!" He glanced nervously at Meliah, who had rolled unto her side with a heaving sigh. "Please, please stop."

Vincent childishly smirked, "I will stop when I want to!"

But when he heard Meliah stir, he fell silent.

"Hmm? What am I doing here?" Meliah asked aloud as she slowly pulled herself to a sitting position.

Beaux demeanor changed in a heartbeat. A smile lit his face and he sprung to her side with a glass of water that Vincent could swore had not been there before.

"You fainted," Beaux answered. He lost his fight against his impulses and quickly tucked a stray lock behind her ear. His fingers grazed her wounded neck.

"Ow!" Meliah exclaimed as her hand jumped to the scar. She gasped when she felt the raised skin. "Did I hurt myself?"

"Don't worry about it," he hushed. "Just get some more sleep, please."

"I am a bit tired," she began. But then she looked around the room, and her expression became indecipherable. "Is this your bedroom?" she inquired softly.

"Yes," Beaux answered. Meliah blushed crimson.

"On second thought, I better leave. I believe I've caused too much trouble for one day," she said hurriedly. She clambered out of the bed, but her legs were still too weak to support her. She toppled dramatically into Beaux's arms.

"I insist," Beaux said as his hands slid across her arms. She averted her eyes and began fiddling with the long ribbon on the front of her nightgown.

It took her several minutes to realize that the dress was not hers. It was long, white, and thick, but Meliah could not help feeling very exposed. She flew back into the bed and covered herself with the silk sheets.

Beaux chuckled. "Your other dress was ruined by a terrible, purplish stain. You will have to forgive me. I will buy you another one. As for the mean time, this one will have to do ('tis the cook's). Please rest."

Meliah did not look reassured. She was so embarrassed that tears were already welling up in her dark eyes.

"Don't cry," Beaux whispered as he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket. "Would you like us to leave?"

She nodded slowly. Her lower lip trembled as she struggled to contain a wail.

"I'll be outside," Beaux said.

He was about to leave when an extra figure in the hall caught his attention.

A startlingly beautiful girl stepped into the room past Vincent.

"Cecilia?" Beaux asked.

The girl laughed, "It's been a while!"

Beaux was caught off gaurd, and in his surprise, he did not notice the shadow that fell across Meliah's face.