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Every tick, terror-burning fires erupted inside me.
Every tock, smoke billowed thicker, making reality feather into fancy.
A hyena’s cackle echoed in my ears.
That’s not real.
Focus!
I locked my gaze on Henri as Victor commanded him to pour copious amounts of alcohol down his throat.
He gagged as he finished his first glass.
He grimaced as he finished his second.
And he shook his head with a sloppy sway, refusing the third.
“No more.” Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat. “Too much. Too fast. I need—” He stumbled forward, grabbing hold of one of the cabinets holding death upon death. “Just…give me a moment.” Sliding to the floor, he sat on his ass and drew up his knees, putting his head between them. “Fuck, the room’s swimming.”
“Guess you can’t hold as much as I thought,” Victor muttered. Placing Henri’s untouched third drink back on the glittering bar, he pulled a velvet rope in the corner.
Somewhere in the kitchens below, a bell would chime, waking up a servant to bring whatever it was that Victor had just summoned.
“I haven’t eaten in fuck knows how long,” Henri groaned, wiping his mouth with a shaky hand. “You’ve just given me eight or nine shots, judging by your generous pours.”
“Bet you’re wishing you’d eaten now, aren’t you?” Victor snickered. “Never mind. You’ll start to feel the effects in a few minutes. By thirty, you’ll be well on your way to being free.”
“Dead more like.” Raking his hands through his hair, Henri looked up and caught my eyes.
For a second, no one else existed.
The syrupy sickness slowly creeping through me didn’t matter, the drunkenness in his gaze didn’t matter. We were still joined. Still bound. Still in this together.
Together.
I clung to that word like a life raft.
I wanted to haul Henri onto it too—to pluck him out of the sea of alcohol currently drowning him and promise that no matter what happened, no matter what he did, we would get through this together.
I could handle pain.
I would slip into a lifetime of meditation and numb each cut he would give me.
Peter had endured this game multiple times.
I can too.
And then, we’d go back to Henri’s room and figure out a new plan. A plan to finally tell his fellow officers to come get us.
Giving me a tragic shrug, Henri closed his eyes and rested his head against the cabinet.
Even with his eyes closed, the bargain between us held fast. We’d made a commitment to do whatever it took to save Peter and the jewels. Just because he was drunk and I was drugged didn’t mean we couldn’t keep that promise.
Another foggy haze clouded my head, tugging me down, down—
No.
I clung to the connection between us.
