Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
My muscles burned with bruises, my ribs felt far too sharp, and my feet had long stopped screaming for walking over painful things. I didn’t want to see how badly cut they were.
We were all spent by the time we broke out of the forest, sighing in relief as bare toes sank into the luscious grass of Victor’s runway.
Rachel bared her teeth as the stronghold with its battlement walls, sniper guards, spotlights, and star-puncturing turrets appeared.
Uplights danced over every chiselled stone. Arrow slits and modern windows flickered like fireflies with illumination from within. With its caged balconies and gargoyles, angels and pointy parapets, Victor’s home might be a nest full of monsters, but…it looked rather beautiful in the starry night.
“You’re late,” a guard muttered as our feet thudded heavily over the drawbridge and traded open air for stagnant imprisonment.
Henri sniffed. “Long day.”
“The Master Jeweler is waiting for everyone to present in the ballroom. Rollcall should’ve finished three hours ago.”
“Tell him he can keep waiting.” Henri looked at Peter in his arms. “This jewel needs a doctor. Now.”
Scowling, the guard spoke into a radio hooked onto his black jacket. Muttering something, his eyes skimmed the rest of us, growing wider as he noticed how paint-covered we all were.
By the time he got a crackly response, his face had traded annoyance for respect, and he bowed a little at Henri. “The Master Jeweler said he’ll meet you in the foyer.”
Stifling a sigh, Henri nodded. “Fine.”
My skin crawled as we all started walking again.
I expected the drawbridge to clang up and lock us inside, but it seemed we weren’t the only tardy ones. The three guards manning the entrance turned to face the dark runway again, their eyes peering through the night for more stragglers.
Rachel glanced at me. “I don’t know if I’m hoping no jewels will show up for rollcall or all of them.”
Mollie nodded. “What if a few jumped?”
“Then I guess they’re better off than we are.” Rachel staggered.
I grabbed her hand, stopping her from falling. Despite my pain. Despite our mutual exhaustion…we were in this together.
I glared at the castle as it loomed closer and closer. The manicured gardens with its animal hedges and fountains swallowed us deeper and deeper. Time quickly ran out of our hourglass, stealing our ability to speak.
I whispered under my breath, “What you mentioned in the caves…we need to talk about it.”
Mollie stiffened. “We can’t—”
“The kitchens. May—that kind cook—said no one hears what they say down there—”
“You want to use the kitchens as our war room?” Mollie hissed back.
I nodded, flicking Henri a look.
His shoulders bunched from carrying Peter. His back rippled beneath his bloody t-shirt. But he showed no sign of hearing us.
“The minute we can get away and meet there…we’re planning something,” I muttered.
“You’re even more crazy than Peter, and he was high.” Mollie rolled her eyes.
“Crazy or just determined?” I smiled sadly.
“I think it’s the same word in this case.”
“Hush, both of you,” Rachel whispered. “No one speaks of this again until we can meet in the kitchens. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” Both Mollie and I dropped our chins in silent acceptance. And just like that, we started gathering troops for battle.
A chill darted down my spine as we traded the empty beautiful gardens for the erotic tapestry-decorated foyer. The familiar sensation of evil wafted over me as my eyes landed on Victor.
He stood beside the curving staircase branching to the left.
Arms crossed, pristine navy suit soaking up the scant light from the crystal-dripping chandelier, his smile seemed crocodilian.
The sense of déjà vu from the night I’d been flown here threatened to overlap this one.
That night, I’d still believed I could escape.
Now…I wasn’t so sure.
But I’ll try…
“Ah, there you are!” Victor grinned with welcome, his greying-blond hair dancing with rainbows from the crystals above. “I was beginning to think you’d all drowned.”
Henri shifted Peter in his arms and stopped before the man who ruled all our lives. “Vic.” He bowed a little. “Like I told your guards, it’s been a long fucking day. Can I have a shower and some sleep before participating in whatever annoying debrief you have planned?”
“Found even more ego out there, I see.” Victor looked past him with a raised eyebrow, smirking at the three of us, red and bruised behind him. “My, my, it has been a long day. I told you to shoot one gem, Henri. Not all of them.”
Henri forced a tired chuckle. “I got lucky.”
Victor frowned at the red coating Henri. “And you also shot yourself?” Reaching out to smear Henri’s bloody bicep, he scowled. “Wait, that’s not—”
“You’re right.” Henri backed up, Peter dangling over his arms. “It’s not paint. Not all of it, at least.”
Victor’s friendly welcome turned arctic. “Explain.”
“I was attacked by a Master in the caves. He stabbed me.” Angling his arm, Henri arched his chin at the wound in his bicep. “I retaliated. It got…messy.”