Page 458 of Coal Hearts

IF THE OLD ILY COULD SEE ME NOW...if she watched me willingly leave behind her only weapon and walk over the drawbridge into Victor’s fortress, she would’ve disowned me for my stupidity.

She would’ve screeched and shouted and ordered me to run and swim and do whatever it damn well took to get as far away from here as possible.

But...

But.

I sighed heavily as I glanced at the sorry company I kept.

I’d come here alone, yet somehow, I’d grown attached.

Three jewels and one Master.

All of us dripping in pain.

Leading the way, Henri prowled on bare feet. His left arm coated in blood from where Kyle stabbed him, his t-shirt soaked with murder.

We matched, him and me.

We all did.

He might be painted in blood, but the rich scarlet matched the red paint covering me.

Stars pinpricked the black velvet sky above. The hazy whirlpool of a galaxy gleamed brightly as if studying our sad procession.

Rachel walked beside me. Her own body covered in red paint like mine. When Henri had snatched Kyle’s gun, checked the canister still had paintballs, and aimed at Rachel and Mollie, I’d leapt in front of him.

“Don’t you dare shoot them.” I’d balled my hands, fighting through debilitating pain from all my bruises. I’d studied his blood-streaked face for some reaction. But there’d been none. He was a total stranger with every emotion shuttered and every feeling hidden.

He hadn’t spoken to me.

But he had spoken to them.

Arching his chin at the two jewels, he shrugged with indifference. “I don’t know what we’ll be walking into when we return, but I do know Victor will expect a winner. I’m claiming all of you. It’s the only way I can think of to keep you safe.”

Rachel and Mollie shared a look.

Keep you safe.

Such a protective sentence yet said with blood-tipped frost.

What did he mean by that?

Had he had a change of heart and seen the errors of his ways?

Is he going to help us?

Peter remained passed out, unable to offer his counsel.

What he’d said before...the comment about seeing something in Henri.

What had Peter seen?

Fragments of light?

Filaments of hope that Henri hadn’t truly forsaken his task?

I sucked in an optimistic breath; pain daggered right in my ribs.