Page 32 of Scent Of Obsession
“What gave you the impression we were negotiating here?” There was no way out for her—she knew it.
“I’ll do your science fiction demand.”Of course you will.“But I want to be able to make a side perfume for myself using that plant. Favor for favor. I don’t want any money.”
Interesting.She would sell her soul to darkness at the price of her destructive obsession. It amused me. That flower goddess was crazier than she thought. She was just too blind to see it.
“Give me a reason.”
“Because I’m the only one who can do this.” Her eyes were dead set on me. “That’s why you chose me. Because you know I’ll sacrifice everything to make it happen. Our goals are linked, despite the fact yours are—” She stopped, biting her next words. Wise decision. “Anyway, deals are never one-sided.” She gulped. “You can threaten to kill me. I don’t care.”
“Now, why would I do that?” A wicked grin twisted my mouth as she seemed to hold her breath in angst. “Lily Bellerose, I believe you just made a deal with the Devil.” After all, the sins of her uncle weren’t her own. “Now, a car will drive you back.”
She raised her chin up, and on her way to leave, she leered at me one last time. Her whole face lit up. “Thank you.”
Why was she thanking me? A line appeared between my brows as I watched her sway through the light of the stairs.
I called Hugo, walking again to my glass windows. I started a countdown in my head until Lily appeared. She passed among the crowd, this time following my orders.
“Yeah?” Hugo picked up, the moaning of women echoing through the phone.
Lily shot a last glance in my direction, as if she could feel my presence upstairs. My body was stiff, believing for a moment her eyes could penetrate my invisibility.
“Tear the curtains down in Lily’s room, and make sure there are lights in the manor.”
“Let the light enter—really?” Hugo joked. “What the fuck happened to you, Rad?”
She happened.
Ididn’t sleep much last night. It wasn’t because the manor was deathly cold, nor because of the intermittent creaks or the howling wind tapping on the windows, but the confusion that was clouding my thoughts.
My curtains were removed from my bedroom, a permanent dim light delicately added to it. Yet, when Radcliff wasn’t terrorizing me, with his sharp shadows roaming around every room, he was avoiding me like the plague. Unable to resolve the gloomy mystery that he was and the mixed signals he was sending me, I devoted my time to my obsession.
Accompanied by the sounds of screaming breaching the void, I had concocted my own recipe by writing the list of oils I’d need to create the fragrance, my wished-for sources and some possible perfume formulas. I didn’t want to belong to the category of the damned and the forgotten.
I wanted to belong to the category of the gifted.
The mad scientist. The genius villain. The haunted musician. No matter what they did and who they were, good or evil, they all had something in common—undeniable talent. Something stronger than mankind, who pushed them toward the road of exception. And today was my chance to be one of them.
At the lab, I felt like an alchemist inside an apothecary lab, where each vial was like philtres, enclosing an odor of magic and love. I was inspecting the oils carefully selected by Radcliff’s trader, Patrick Delange—a man who had fifty years of experience in perfume. He had worked during his youth as a nose in France with the biggest perfume houses. My uncle told me they once worked on a project together forever ago. He made a career mostly in dealing with oils, being known for his excellence in matters of quality.
“Are they coming from Grasse?” I asked while opening the flask to soak my strips to smell the oil of rose centifolia.
“Yes. It’s last year’s batch from the end of May,” he replied.
Skeptical, I inhaled the scent. By the end of May, the sun has been burning, inflicting the loss of the sweetness of the rose. I furrowed my brows. The scent was strong but not as captivating and addictive as it should have been. It missed the rich, charming, sugary odor to transport me to some magical land with a candy house and rainbow sky, or a rose-tinted movie with happy endings. It just wasn’t the one.
“I’d like to try a batch from the beginning of May.”
His lips curled into a placid smile, his eyes unexpressive. “I assure you, this oil is perfectly acceptable. I’ve never had any complaints from great noses before.”
His brownish gaze slithered the length of my body, one of his eyebrows raising slightly under his thin glasses.
I squared my shoulders, a broad smile on my face, determined to not let myself be intimidated. “That’s not the one I want.” I was the client, after all.
His snort dissolved into a mocking laughter, his head jerking back. “How old are you? Eighteen?”
My mouth opened in an attempt to make him change his mind about me, but he didn’t have any desire to hear me out, only to shut me up.
“You don’t have any experience in the art of perfume. You’re just lucky to be here because you’re pre—” he enunciated with bitterness, swallowing the last word, regaining control of himself.
