Page 517 of Coal Hearts

I thought we’d reached an understanding.

The way he’d hugged me after I’d whispered for him to play along with me. The way his entire body enveloped me in such protection, such hope.

I thought that’d been his answer.

In my GHB high state, I thought it’d been a yes.

Yes, to playing along.

Yes, to the act of using me, abusing me, making me kneel and scream—proving to everyone in this damn place that he was the worst. I would play along and be the best-trained jewel in here. I’d do whatever it took to convince everyone that Henri was one of them and I was his, and then...maybe, just maybe, Victor would let him leave. He’d trust him with the location of this island, and Henri could tell his brother, and reinforcements could arrive and—

I slouched.

It wasn’t a yes.

Dread-filled butterflies churned in my stomach as Henri vanished into the stronghold in the distance. He’d never left me alone before. Never run away as if he couldn’t stand being in my presence.

My bruises and ribs still hurt.

My bones ached with matching pockmarks from nasty bullets, but those wounds were nothing compared to the pain of confusion. The scrambling of the bond I thought we’d formed.

Whatever I’d felt that night—all those stupid, stupid feelings...they were nothing more than a ridiculous fantasy.

Enough.

Climbing to my feet, I groaned as my body protested.

I had far more important things to worry about.

Peter.

Rachel.

The jewels.

I was finally free to visit them.

Brushing a few blades of grass off my black workout shorts and aqua sports bra, I followed Henri’s footsteps through the manicured grass.

A shiver ran down my back as I climbed the deck and cut around all the empty tables.

This fortress was hell on earth when monsters were in residence, but empty—apart from inconspicuous staff and black-suited guards—it was eerie.

No sounds of pain around shadowy corners. No sick laughter as a Master whipped a jewel. No awful beatings in the gardens.

I hadn’t noticed how much every scream and whimper curdled my stomach. The calcification around my heart at the sounds of abuse chipped away a little, thanks to birdsong and silence.

A sharp-eyed guard watched me as I padded barefoot through the dining room. He didn’t stop me, and another guard took up his glower as I cut across the foyer and down the stone corridor leading toward Dr Belford’s surgery on the ground floor.

I added each guard to the ongoing tally in my head.

So far, I’d counted twelve on the ground floor and five scattered in the gardens.

I had no idea how many patrolled the upper levels or the battlements.

For the past few days, I’d started keeping a record of guards and staff, adding their positions to the schematics in my head.

As much as I hoped Henri would snap out of his strange silence and reveal he was still good, deep, deep inside, it wasn’t in my nature to sit around and wait.