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Jewels shrank back, bumping into one another as Masters bristled with eagerness.
“Here’s what’s going to happen, my sweetlings.” Victor marched toward the edge of the drawbridge and dropped every poise and mask. “You have all disappointed me, upset me, and shown me that I have been far too lenient with you. You are spoiled, lazy, and frankly…I would not be distraught if a few of you decided not to return tonight, after all.” He shrugged. “The cliffs are right there if you wish to use them. Jump for all I care. End your life. The life I so painstakingly nurture and tend. If you don’t appreciate everything I fucking do for you, then fine. You’re free.”
A jewel dared step forward, her strawberry-blonde hair looking almost pink in the sun. “A-And if we don’t. If we come back like you request…will we be forgiven whatever transgressions we’ve committed?”
Ily sucked in a breath.
Peter chuckled.
Rachel seemed to sway.
Victor took his time answering. “You know how precious you are to me. Some of you have been here close to a decade and some of you are new. You know how kind I can be; you also know how strict I can be when that kindness is abused.” He smiled and placed a hand over his heart. “You have my word that after today, I will judge your transgressions paid, and we can go on with fresh purpose. How about that?”
“Yes, Sir V. Thank you, Sir V.” The girl backed up and returned to her spot in the line.
Another girl squeezed her hand; they shared a look I couldn’t decipher.
Merde, how many of them would be missing by roll-call tonight? How many would take the leap? And why did that fucking wrench at my heart?
I felt responsible.
Like I’d failed even though their lives were not my responsibility.
Ily’s life was the only one I was in control of.
No one else’s.
“Q would disagree,” that angel on my shoulder muttered obnoxiously.
Q can bite my ass.
“Right, someone hand me a gun. Actually, Henri. Come up here and join me.” Victor beckoned, his greying blond hair twinkling like tinsel. “Don’t be shy.”
Jesus Christ.
He had to pick me.
Giving him a tight smile, I stepped around a few of the other Masters and joined Victor on the drawbridge. “What’s up?”
“Shoot one.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“Shoot one. Let’s see how the paintballs work, and then I’ll explain the rest. Hurry now. Snap, snap.”
God’s sake.
Who?
I wasn’t personally acquainted with the pain of being shot with a paintball, but I’d watched enough movies where people were shot to know it didn’t look pleasant. Especially without any shields or thick clothing.
Swinging my gun, I angled the muzzle at Peter.
He flung his arms out, puffing up his chest. “Shoot me, oh Master C!” He snickered. “Oh, sorry. Not C. Not cunt—”
“Hush.” Both Rachel and Ily dove for him, dragging his arms down and tripping with him as he swayed.
Bile filled my mouth as I noticed his hands.
His bleeding, burned hands.
My eyes shot to Victor’s. “You burned him?”
He shrugged. “The lightning storm gave me inspiration. Just a teeny reminder to behave, that’s all.” Throwing a bemused smile at Peter, he laughed. “I think someone is a little high, Peter sweetling. I’ll give you that one slip-up as it was rather amusing, but test me again, and your tongue will be next.”
Peter didn’t blanch or bow or back down.
He merely saluted Victor like a drunken sailor. “Aye, aye, captain.”
Victor just snickered. “That boy. Honestly. I will miss him when he’s reached his use-by date.”
My stomach churned as Ily gave Peter a heartbroken look.
She pushed his thick brown hair aside, brushing it away from his sweaty forehead.
I froze.
I waited for rage. For possessiveness. For jealousy.
But…I finally saw what she’d been telling me all along.
He definitely had feelings for her.
I sensed it in every molecule of my body. But her…? The way she touched him and sniffed back tears at his abuse? The way she watched him, desperately wishing she could protect him, looked exactly like one would protect a…brother.
Shit.
My mind suddenly filled with a very different scene.
Children all tucked up in bed, some crying in the dark, others huddling together under blankets. Outside the barred window, the haunting hoots of owls terrified us along with the screams of our mothers.
The door slammed open.
A man marched in.
Drunk and slurring, French and rotten.
He tossed a woman into the middle of our bedroom and spat on the floor. “You have an hour with your spawn.”
The kid closest to me—a little girl who I did my best to keep smiling—flung herself into the woman’s arms and—
The vision ended.
I shook my head.
The rush of nausea crashed over me, remembering, realising…
I have siblings.
Not just the one I’d begged to accept me, but…
More.
Others.
Brothers and sisters all bred by the same monster who’d sired me.
I’d lived with them at the same estate where I’d gone to visit my eldest brother.
