Wanted

Chapter 23

Isaac sat in a chair; his fists clenched on his lap. Even with his eyes closed, electricity bounced around the room. If he was normal, he would be angry, throwing things and ripping the house out of the earth; but he wasn't. He couldn't feel anything, not even rage. When he opened his eyes, the single triangular lamp in the middle of the ceiling seemed to grow brighter until it cut out altogether, along with the rest of the power in the mansion.

The darkness was his friend. He could remember the first time he was in darkness in that room. When he put on a show of emotions to lure a beauty to him; to make Conlaed. If he could, he would have felt sorry for her, running right into his trap. He didn't love her; he had never loved her. The best of psychopaths put on a show, pretending they care, pretending they can love, manipulating the victim ever so carefully so they don't realise... and by the time they do, it's too late.

He didn't want to kill her. Surely that must count for something. He would have preferred to keep her as a toy, and their children wouldn't have had to grow up without a mother. The children... she tried to take them away from him. He couldn't let her. They were showing such promising signs. He couldn't let her prevent them from reaching their full potential... but even dead, she did. Maybe they had gone soft beforehand; maybe he should have killed her the second after they were born... maybe. But now, he would have to kill his children. Still, he didn't feel anything. No remorse; no sadness; nothing.

With a sigh, Isaac broke out of his thoughts and strode to the window. Pulling up the blind, a stream of light slid through the glass, dimly illuminating the room. It was odd to think that his son would be staring at the same moon, elsewhere. Conlaed... he had such high hopes for him. But once you have emotions, and like the feel of them, you are a goner. Connar would have only thrived if he'd pushed all his feelings to the side, if he'd banished them for good. Yet instead of this, he fell in love with his captive. Weak. He couldn't even accomplish keeping a pet with no emotional attachment. He may have looked the part, but he would have cracked sooner or later, and Isaac would still have had to get rid of him.

A crash sounded, and Isaac calmly turned around. A man stood in the doorway, blood gushing out of his nose and splashing onto the floor. He had several broken bones all over his body, but the most obvious was the abnormal angle of his right lower arm. Isaac couldn't help but wince.

"Lila... Ruben... he took her." Nothing else made it out of his mouth before he collapsed. Isaac curled his lip at the dying man on the floor. Stepping over him, he called down the hallway for someone to get rid of him and clean up the blood.

A memory popped up from when Conlaed was training with some of the gang members. He could fight better than most, and once caused a man so much blood loss he lost consciousness. Isaac had been watching, a smile coming to his lips. He asked someone to deal with the unconscious body.

"But he's not dead, father," Conlaed had said, confused. He was old enough to know what "deal with it" meant.

"Not yet, but he soon will be," Isaac had replied, taking Conlaed by the hand and leaving another to kill the man and get rid of the body. That was the first time Conlaed had shown signs of empathy, and Isaac hadn't been very happy. He had contemplated making Conlaed kill the man and deal with him, but decided it was better to wait until he was older. He didn't want to ruin his son; not yet.

Isaac stalked around his castle until he fell on the room his wife used to stay in. She was beautiful, he had to give her that. The only problem he had with her was that she felt too much. When he cast her aside, pulling off his mask, she had cried for weeks. No one could get her to shut up, and she refused to come out of her room. She would push away her meals and smash the plates and cups; she had cost him a fortune. But last of all, she had tried to hurt herself. When her insides were exploding and her body rejected tears, when she could take no more, she had placed one of the pieces of broken glass over her wrist... and then Isaac walked in. The amount of shouting that had happened that night... she never thought about harming herself again after that. She had to stay strong for her baby; for Conlaed.