Blood Seeker (Immortal Curse #7) - Lexi C. Foss Page 0,64

Then the council dragged you off to reformation, and I assumed it was a result of your failure.” He shrugged again. “Of course, when Astasiya revealed herself to me, I started to understand the truth.”

“And you made me bury myself in concrete as a punishment.” Sethios’s skinned burned with the memory of the excruciating sensation of hot cement touching his flesh.

“As both a punishment and a test of strength—one Astasiya passed beautifully. Not only did she fight better than I could have imagined, but she also managed to fracture my hold over you. Fascinating, really. Not even Skye could foresee that outcome. I mean, she failed to mention Vera’s interference.”

“Or she kept that detail from you,” Sethios suggested.

“Yes, that, too. She has a penchant for twisting her visions. As do many of the Fates.” He slid his hands into his charcoal dress pants, his white button-down shirt reflecting in the sunlight streaming in through the skylights above. “Did she mention what the Fates would do to Elizabeth’s child?”

“They took her,” Sethios said, feigning boredom. “I imagine they intend to raise the child within their rules since she’ll be a genetically modified Seraphim. It’s exactly what we didn’t want for Astasiya.” It also wasn’t what Skye predicted. She’d stated the council would kill the child. Sethios hoped like hell that wasn’t true.

“An intelligent decision for your progeny,” his father replied, the compliment actually surprising Sethios. His father never praised his choices. “But your assumption is juvenile.”

And there was the follow-up insult.

Sethios refrained from rolling his eyes.

“The council would never want the child to live,” his father continued. “She’s my creation, and they frown upon those.”

“So you also think they’ll kill her,” Sethios said, displeased with the notion of such a meaningless death. Humans died early and young. Immortals did not—should not.

“Yes. And Elizabeth, of course.” He uttered the words as if that outcome meant nothing to him. Which, Sethios guessed, it wouldn’t. His father could just create more life—that was what he did.

“Why are we here?” Sethios asked. “Everything you’ve told us just confirms what we already know.”

“Directness would be more suitable if used sporadically, not in every conversation tactic.”

“The same could be said about dramatics,” Sethios deadpanned.

His father dipped his chin. “Fair.” He turned on his heel. “Follow me, then. No fighting me or misting.”

Caro and Sethios exchanged a look, then their feet began to move of their own accord—compelled by Osiris. He led them through the downstairs of the beach house, alongside a myriad of windows. The home boasted opulence, the light coming in from above highlighted the gold accents, white framework, and sleek marble floors.

They wandered by a double kitchen with two islands, multiple ovens and stoves, and two sets of sinks.

“Are you planning to host a party?” Sethios asked, noting the lack of people and the abundance of space. They were moving through yet another living room toward what appeared to be a back staircase.

“No, I manufactured this home for the future owner.”

“Future owner?” Sethios repeated.

“Keep walking,” his father replied, leading them up the stairs to the second floor. Several bedrooms adorned the floor, each equipped with balconies that overlooked the ocean on one side and a vast field of exotic plants on the other.

They were clearly on an island somewhere. The turquoise colors of the water suggested the Caribbean. Perhaps a private estate in The Bahamas. It seemed like a place his father would favor.

Osiris continued onward to the fourth or fifth bedroom in the middle and opened the door to reveal a nursery. “This will be useful in a few hours,” he said, causing Sethios to frown.

Then he opened the door directly across the hall from the nursery to where an unconscious Elizabeth lay in the middle of a large white bed.

Caro gasped at the sight of the very pregnant woman, her body angling toward her. “You can go to her,” Osiris said, releasing Caro from his compulsion. “But don’t mist her anywhere. She needs to remain here.”

“Jedrick would probably disagree with that statement.” Sethios folded his arms. “What the hell is this about?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Osiris asked. When Sethios said nothing, he heaved another of his dramatic sighs. “I saved her from the council. Were you not listening to anything I’ve said? They would have killed her. I brought her here, to a warded home with all her favorite luxuries, to protect her. Obviously.”

Sethios’s brow furrowed. “Why would you be so magnanimous?”

Osiris snorted. “It’s not about being magnanimous. It was practical to protect my