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“Wait.”
Peter paused, breathing hard.
Henri turned on the spot to focus on him. “Did I say you could touch my jewel without my permission?”
What is he doing!?
I groaned under my breath and rolled my shoulders.
This wasn’t the time nor place.
Whatever protective instincts he had for me jeopardized everything.
Peter slowly turned, keeping his hands balled. “No, Master H. I-I bumped into her by accident.”
“Accident, huh?” Henri stalked toward him. “Perhaps I should throw you into one of these rooms and toss away the key by accident.”
I dared look up.
Outwardly, Peter behaved and respected, but inwardly, that same fire that’d gotten me into trouble burned far too bright. “I’m not quite myself,” Peter clipped. “I…visited the doctor for a reason. Forgive me, Master H.”
Peter flashed me a look.
I did my best to give him a comforting smile, but my eyes locked on his bare chest. Cuts all over him. Long and nasty slices that’d been cleaned and tended to with salve, but remnants of blood soaked into the linen pants clinging to his lean hips. Dark shadows bruised beneath his eyes, swelling on his cheek, and his slight sway was as real as the hitch in his breath.
He looked like a dead man. A zombie haunting the keep where he’d died.
“Good God, what happened?” I broke character, reaching for him.
Henri slammed a hand on my shoulder, keeping me down. “He’s fine. He’s going to go back to wherever he sleeps and forget he ever saw us. Aren’t you, Peter?” His lips pulled back in a sneer. “You snitched on me in the library but don’t even think about doing that again.”
Peter stumbled a little but nodded. “Yes, Master H.”
“Good. Now leave.” Dismissing Peter with an arrogant wave of his hand, he turned to look back the way we were going, only to slam to a stop.
Stiffer than stone.
Colder than snow.
“Victor.” His tone shed its haughty command and teased with comradery. “Fancy seeing you here. It seems everyone is a vampire roaming the castle tonight.”
Ever so slowly, Victor unfolded himself from where he leaned against the night-shrouded wall and padded toward us in lambskin slippers. His black dressing gown billowed around his ankles, his skin morbidly white in the faint flickering sconces.
“My darling boy, I’m sorry to hear you’re unwell.” His gaze flickered to Peter with swarmy concern. “Did Master O get a bit inventive again?” Pulling his hand out of his dressing gown, he flicked a little black device over his knuckles.
A device I recognised.
A device Peter knew intimately.
Hovering his thumb over the button to electrocute his abused, bleeding slave, Victor grinned. “Do you wish to lay a complaint, my sweetling?”
Peter shuddered but kept his voice level. “No, Sir V. I-I enjoyed it.”
“That’s my good boy.” Dropping the remote back into his dressing gown, Victor parted his arms like a messiah. “In that case, I think we all deserve a little more enjoyment, don’t you?”
Henri’s fingers dug into my shoulder. “What kind of enjoyment?”
Victor narrowed his eyes. “The kind I’m sure you were in search of, my new friend.” Running his tongue over his bottom lip, he eyed me. “After all, why else are you sneaking through my home in the dead of night with a jewel you paid a fortune for?”
