The Master Finale | manxman | (Book Four: The Master Collection)

X - The Man Named Broderick Thorne

"Quiet," Timothy growled lowly, "Quiet, and I won't end your life here and now."

Lincoln trembled in his nightwear, hands gripped around Timothy's forearm to wrench him away, but the man was not strong enough for the stranger in his home. So to save his skin, he loosened his grip and tried to settle down, and when he was quiet enough for the dark-haired man's liking, Timothy removed his fingers from Lincoln's nose. To keep the man quiet, Timothy kept his other hand over Lincoln's mouth.

"I have been informed that you," Mr. Creel spoke through the scarf tied around his lower face, "Mr. Smiths, you are not a very polite man when under the influence of the whiskey you love so much. Just two nights ago, you had the audacity to approach an innocent man, and you forced yourself on him no matter how much he pleaded with you to stop."

Timothy reached down into his boot then and withdrew a dagger from a hidden slot. "Fortunately for you, your victim only asked me to put the fear of God in you -- while I would prefer to simply drive this here blade into your fucking skull."

Lincoln squealed and jostled again, but quickly came to a stop when Timothy placed the ice-cold sharpened edge of the dagger against his neck. As Timothy held the weapon there, his memory flickered unwanted images into his mind. He suddenly heard ghostly screams, echoed firearms going off all around him, and when he blinked he saw the faces of the two demons that stole what was once his from his arms. Seeing the past reflections of both men who he once slaughtered in cold blood, Timothy blinked once more and Lincoln Smiths was lain before him again.

And without a mere second thought, he drove the blade into Lincoln's throat. The man's eyes shot open wide as the pain inflicted into his being worsened, blood pooling out like black ink as Timothy removed his hand from over the dying man's mouth. If Lincoln could rape such an innocent person as Lucian, or anyone for that matter, could it not be said that he would try again with someone else? So what was the point of leaving him alive to perhaps commit the same devious act a second time? All monsters repeated their crimes, didn't they?

Standing back as Lincoln bled profusely until he was completely inert, Timothy looked down at the bloodied dagger in his hand, and in no way, shape or form, did he see his actions as wrong. This was the safest move; getting this man off the streets. So with having finished the job he'd been requested for, Timothy cleaned the silver blade on the white bedding and left the area the same way he'd come from.

He disappeared like a phantom in the night and rode all the way home atop his transport. When he made it home, and closed off the gates to his property, he permitted his horse to roam about however she liked. But he wouldn't stay for long.

The night before, upon his departure from the Lancechester manor, he'd been entreated to return a second time by the Master, and truth be told, he would much rather spend an additional night, or even more than just a few beneath Jasper's roof, than to remain in this empty reminder all by himself. This piece of land was his home, yes, he'd worked so hard in the past to make it his own, but now that it was no longer needed due to tragic reasons, Timothy didn't much like staying here on his own.

So without further contemplation, Timothy entered his home and gathered a large sack to stuff pairs of clothing inside.

When he was finished in his small bedroom, he slung the strap of the bag over his shoulder and left without looking back. The mere idea of being far from this lonesome place eased his spirits, spirits that had a hard time being lifted, but somehow that late night with Jasper had proved to Timothy that he could still feel what it was like to be alive. Was he on the verge of falling in love for the second time in his life? A part of him already knew the answer well enough, but if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Jasper Lancechester was capable of renewing these fresh sentiments.