Page 6 of Bluebeard’s Key

“I accept,” Zayan said. “Pending additional discussion about the salary, naturally.”

Tom asked, “Where is your development facility?” He was obviously still skeptical, looking for some catch or loophole. Bluebeard could sympathize—it must seem too good to be true, and in many ways, it was. But that would come later.

Bluebeard said, “The facility is located on an island, a short boat ride from Ferry Vale, so that might take some adjustment if you’re used to bustling city life. But you can always ferry back to civilization when you need some nightlife.”

“Thomas, I’ll be in touch to get your final answer,” Bluebeard said as he led them to the door. “Zayan, hold back for a minute, and we can finalize your salary this evening.”

He walked to the sideboard and poured two snifters of Cognac, steering Zayan to the picture windows, still streaming with rain.

“I’ll speak freely,” Bluebeard said. “I require services that are not included on your resume.”

Zayan said, “We’re both adults, and I understand the world has gray areas. I’m sure I can offer whatever you need.”

“Excellent. I’m keen to acquire both you and Thomas, but I suspect the work we’ll be doing will pose difficulties for him. He’s an exceptional chemist, but he hasn’t seen as much of the world as you and I have.”

“From the little time I’ve spent with him, I believe that’s true,” Zayan said. “How can I help?”

“He’s also going to play an essential role in a project that’s currently coming to fruition, but he might not be entirely willing. A handsome fellow like you can be persuasive with someone who is, shall we say, less experienced. If I’m reading the signs correctly, Thomas has already taken a shine to you, so all you need to do is fan the flames and ensure that he’s happy and satisfied. I’m prepared to double the figure I quoted for your salary if I can count on you when the need arises. Do we have an understanding?”

Zayan grinned at this and answered, “Count me in. He won’t know what hit him.”

Bluebeard was well pleased when they parted with a handshake. Both Thomas and Zayan fit the needs of his plan perfectly. Thomas had the bright spark of creativity, and Zayan had the darker smolder of ambition. Thomas was still hesitant, but that was the skepticism of the scientist talking. He’d send Thomas another well-dosed letter, and his skepticism would evaporate to nothing, and with Zayan on his side, there was no way the plan could fail.

Bluebeard retired to his room, leaving all thought of the boys behind and no longer attempting to smile. He’d been in a foul mood throughout the final purification of his departed wife’s vitality, which ultimately yielded a woefully small measure of the Elixir of Life, even less than he’d predicted. Thierry must have discerned the reason for his gloom because a thick sheaf of photographs sat on his bedside table waiting for his perusal. It was uncanny the way Thierry knew him, always anticipating his needs, always able to find anything he desired. He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his shirt, anticipating the pleasure of choosing his next wife.

What would it be this time, brunette or blonde? Maybe an athletic redhead who would fight for dominance in the bedchamber? That would be a welcome change, and some competition was sure to enhance the quality at the inevitable conclusion. He propped up some pillows and stretched out, paging through possibilities and trying to imagine a life, albeit a short one, with each. He built a short stack of candidates on his bare chest, ripping the rejected photographs in half and tossing them to the floor. How would Thierry arrange it this time? A discreet blind date? A random encounter? Were any of these choices residents of Ferry Vale? If so, they could dust off the ballroom, and he could romance a suitable belle into submission. It had been years since they held a formal ball, and maybe his reputation had faded enough to allow it.

One choice stood out, a beautiful brunette named Beatrice, and Thierry had rated her at the top of available candidates. He placed his short list of photographs back in the folder, her photo at the top, and ran a hand over his chest, anticipating. He was proud of his firm musculature…not bad for six centuries. He was still strong and defined, but perhaps not at his absolute prime, so some time with the free weights wouldn’t hurt, and he was also tardy on his own dose of the Elixir. But first, his body was responding to the anticipation of a new wife to explore.

He picked up the phone. “Archimedes, I need a plaything.”

“Certainly, Giles. Angela and Karissa are currently on site, and Dimitri. Or if you’d rather, I could call…”

“You will suffice. Come up to me at once.”

“As you wish.”

Bluebeard almost told him to arrive naked, but instead, he terminated the call with no further direction. Archimedes had already disappointed him once today, by not informing the new apprentices about his name, but he was willing to give him one more chance. If Archimedes wasted his time by arriving in clothes, he would look for a new manager.

Archimedes arrived in moments, tapping on his door.

“Come!” Bluebeard called, and Archimedes slipped into his room, fully naked. Good boy. He gestured to the floor, directing, “Clean up this mess first.”

Archimedes set to gathering the scattered fragments of photographs, bending gracefully, curving his body just so and displaying his assets to best advantage. As he watched, Bluebeard couldn’t help but smile, mollified by the spectacle and letting memories of his earlier failings fade away. His spa manager was lovely—he had chosen well by hiring him. It was easy to see why he was a favorite of his clients.

“Come here!” he demanded when the rejected photos were neatly stacked. “Give this your undivided attention.”

Archimedes knew better than to say anything as he complied. Bluebeard required total obedience and would not be distracted by idle chatter. As his handsome servant got to work, Bluebeard closed his eyes and pondered. Perhaps a male spouse this time, instead of a female? In all his years, he’d never attempted it. It would require a different approach to the initial calcination, and the exaltation through the Stone would be trickier with masculine vitality, but it may be worth the extra effort. Then he caught himself and realized he’d be dealing with these issues quite soon, when his plans for the new apprentices came to fruition. A male spouse for himself could wait, since he would have two healthy males at his beck and call, ready for experimentation. Better to stay with the familiar for his own next betrothal, perhaps the woman Thierry recommended, someone who would provide minimal distraction.

He turned his mind back to feminine curves and tender breasts, fantasizing over the wedding night, the subtle dance of temptation, his righteous anger at her inevitable disobedience, finally allowing Archimedes to lift him to completion with visions of the delightful demise of whomever he might ultimately choose.

CHAPTER 5

Tom didn’t accept the position on the spot, like Zayan did, but he was never one to procrastinate. When he got back to the lab, another letter arrived from Giles by overnight post, offering him the position, and there seemed to be no way he could turn it down, especially after he sniffed it. As his graduate advisor soon summarized, there was no downside. He was being offered money, facilities, and a seemingly impossible chemical riddle to solve.

“Two years?” she asked. “That’s no more than any postdoctoral position, so it won’t pose any problems if you decide to move on to other opportunities after you’ve finished. And no funding issues? That would be a rare luxury in these days of funding cuts and escalating government oversight. But of course, you have to ask yourself the most important question—would you be working on the odorant in that letter?”

“Yes,” Tom answered simply, and he realized he was going to give the same answer to Giles Fortescue. This chemical puzzle was the real clincher for him, and it obviously was for his advisor, too.