Diamond kisses, p.14
Diamond Kisses, page 14
Snipers.
No.
Victor bared his teeth. He glowered at me and swayed in my direction. But then he smiled and winked. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Ilyana. Once order has been restored, you’re the first I’m going to hang, draw, and quarter.”
He took off.
Cradling his arm, limping and cursing, he vanished past the invisible line of protection granted by his snipers.
Mollie.
Cupping my bleeding, bruised throat with one hand, I staggered to my trembling legs and stumbled to where Mollie lay.
Please, don’t…please don’t be dead.
“Mollie.” I dropped to my knees and cupped her cheek.
I recoiled in horror.
The perfect hole in her skull.
The blank glaze of her stare.
No…
Another pock-mock of dirt bounced into the air.
Another aimed right at my feet.
I threw myself behind the bush where Mollie had appeared, hiding from the snipers on the wall.
Through the branches and night-glossed leaves, I stared at my friend.
A woman who’d been so brave.
A jewel who’d traded her life for mine.
Great wracking sobs gathered in my belly.
I bit my fist.
Not yet.
Not yet.
I couldn’t cry.
Not yet.
Looking back at the fortress, I staggered to my feet and ran.
Flames danced from multiple stories and windows. The west wing had a hole in it where a dayroom used to be. The deck where I’d kneeled beside Henri so many times had caught fire, the wooden planks blazing like a platform to hell.
Another island-shaking BOOM.
In the distance, the tower standing guard to the dungeons shivered, shuddered, and tumbled. A waterfall of stone fell in slow motion, taking with it carved angels and gargoyles and Victor’s proudly waving flag of a brilliant sparkling diamond.
I kept running into battle.
Shadows of fights between Masters and jewels flickered in the backdrop of chaos. A few jewels jerked and twitched on the ground where Masters electrocuted them, only to be pounced on from behind by other jewels.
I ran into the thick of the acrid smoke, ducking past a fighting Master and guard, then dashing past a jewel hacking a Master to pieces with a butcher’s blade from the kitchens.
I didn’t study faces.
I didn’t want to know.
Rain continued to fall from the sprinkler system, hissing and splashing all around me as I darted back into the fortress.
I almost ran straight into Kirk who staggered out of the games room, soot streaking his face, blood dripping down his arms.
“Kirk.”
He blinked, dead-eyed and barely alive. “Ily, I....” Raising his hands, he frowned as if he couldn’t remember how he’d bathed in crimson. I’d always thought he looked like a Viking with his tall frame, blond hair, and slightly wild eyes, but now he looked as if he’d stepped through time after slaughtering an entire medieval village.
Looking past him into the room where a billiards table waited along with dart boards, chessboards, and so many other games, I spied the reason for all the blood.
A Master I didn’t recognise lay in the middle of the carpet—his face caved in thanks to the billiard ball used to smash his skull apart. The black eight ball sat in a pool of gleaming red, streaked with evidence of its involvement.
Kirk’s hands shook as he stepped toward me, his gaze beseeching, broken. “Help me. Help me bring her back.”
I flinched as he crashed into me, slamming me into a wall. Water hissed over our shoulders, raining, always raining. “Suri. She left me. She’s hiding. But…we’re fighting back. She can come home now. I’ve made it safe for her. See?” He grabbed my cheeks, smearing me in the Master’s cooling blood. “Help me find her, Ily. Please.”
My heart cracked all over again even as nausea rushed up my throat.
God, his mind had snapped. How many others had snapped too? We might lose today or win today, but none of us would walk away from this without lifelong, soul-crippling scars.
“It’s okay, Kirk.” I squeezed his forearms, my skin slipping on his. “Just let me go, and we can—”
“Do you know where she is?” His fingers tightened on my temples.
I winced as he added yet more pain to all the rest. A flash of light-headedness made me sway. “No. But if you—”
“You’re hiding her from me. You’re all hiding her. No one will tell me where she is!”
“Kirk, stop—”
“No, you stop!” He pressed his nose to mine, snarling right in my face. “Tell me where Suri is and—”
“Kirk.” A masculine, familiar wonderful voice. I looked around Kirk’s slim shoulders and sagged in relief.
Peter.
Not dead.
Alive.
Vibrant and alive and…different.
He stepped out of the smoky, raining gloom. Back in his rightful place as shepherd of the jewels, his fingers wrapped tightly around a sword from the armoury. His linen trousers singed in places and blackened in others. Soot dabbled his chest while his handsome face no longer looked kind and protective but ruthless and vicious.
He reminds me of Henri.
Stepping toward us, he held the sword facing downward, but his chest flexed as if ready to swing. “Suri is dead, Kirk. And you will be too if you don’t let Ily go.”
A switch flicked in Kirk’s barely functioning stare. He blinked again and saw reality instead of nightmares. “Oh God. Oh fuck.” Ripping his hands off me, he reeled backward. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay—”
“I have to find her.” His face blanked again, and with a blood-curdling scream, he charged through the smoke and vanished deeper into the fortress.
Peter stepped close and touched my throat, making me jump. His power from before faded a little as his shoulders slouched. “You’re drenched in blood, jaanu.”
I threw myself into him.
I hugged him ever so tight.
He hissed between his teeth as my arms lashed around him. “Gently, Ily. Gently.”
Breaking the hug as quickly as I’d given it, I ducked around him and choked. “Y-Your back.”
Scowling, he turned to face me, preventing me from seeing the twenty lashes he’d earned because of me and my stupid mouth.
“I’m so sorry, Paavak. I didn’t mean—”
“We don’t have time for that. Come.” Grabbing my hand, he carted me into the billowing blackness. We both coughed as the smoke turned thicker, wetter. The air dense with two elements fighting each other for supremacy. He cut into yet another luxurious room and let me go as he stalked toward the side table with a purple silk runner draping over its sides.
Yanking it off the table, he sent a small figurine of a field mouse flying.
I had no idea what he was doing.
“We need to fight with the others,” I rushed. “I need to find Henri.” I staggered a little as my eyesight vanished, then reappeared.
Annoying.
Inconvenient.
Balling my hands, I braced my legs for stability. “Victor ran toward the battlement. He’s probably safe with his snipers by now. We need to figure out a way to—”
“I know.” Marching back to me, he stabbed the sword into the thick carpet and beckoned me to move closer. “Come here.”
“Why? What are you doing?”
Stepping into me with a snarl, he pointed at my silver lingerie.
Well...not so silver anymore.
In fact…most of it was a rich ruby red.
Oh, that’s strange.
I hadn’t killed anyone like Kirk.
Victor hadn’t been bleeding that much, and Mollie barely bled at all.
God, Mollie.
He needs to know.
“Peter…Mollie, she—”
“Don’t. I don’t want to know. Not until after.” Gathering my hair off my sticky shoulders, he ordered, “Apne baal upar karo.” (Hold your hair up.)
I went to obey.
To take my hair that he’d twisted into a ponytail—
Only…somehow, I was on the floor.
And Peter’s face had switched from determined to terrified. “Ily…Ily.”
I frowned and licked my lips. “I-I’m fine.” Something soft lashed around my neck, tying tightly. Tracing my fingers over it, I followed the ends of the purple table runner draping down my chest. “Why…why am I wearing the decorations?”
“You’ve lost a lot of blood.” He swallowed hard, doing his best to hide his fear but drowning in it anyway. “I’ve tried to staunch it. We need to get you to Dr Belford. If she’s even still alive.”
“No. No. No.” I sat up. “I’m fine.”
The room spun around me.
Drunk.
I felt drunk and light and spacey.
Had my food been spiked?
What food?
Ah, so that was the problem.
“I’m just hungry, Paavak. I haven’t eaten in…I can’t remember when.”
“Me too. But I’m not the one who just passed out in my arms.”
“Passed out?” I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. I—”
“It was only for a second. I caught you. You’re okay. Just…stay behind me, alright? Don’t overexert yourself. No running. No murdering. I’ll get you upstairs to the doc somehow. If it’s not on fire. Actually, I should probably get you out of here instead. We’ll find Belford some other way. Shit, that doesn’t matter.” He shook away his scattered thoughts. “What does matter is, whatever direction we take, I’m going to have to fight, and I can’t be worrying about you.” He pinched my chin with shaking fingers. “Promise me you’ll do what I say and don’t get in the way, alright?”
I smirked. “You’re sounding more and more like Henri every day.”
He smiled sadly. “Yes, well…I know who I am, and I’m not him. But…I vow to you if you do what I say, I’ll take you to him. Just keep breathing for me. Keep that cloth tight around your throat, and don’t remove it. I have no idea if it will stop your bleeding, but it might buy us a bit more time.”
“More time?” I struggled to sit up. “I know Victor cut me, but it’s not that deep. Whoever fired that first shot saved my life.”
“That was Stewart. Ben followed. Then the guards they’ve been getting friendly with opened fire.”
“And the explosions that have been going off? Is that really Rachel and Mollie’s handiwork?”
“Carlos got me free when all hell broke loose. He’s the engineer who’s been helping them. He said they gave up on the bleach and household detonations after Victor tortured all those involved and forbade them from ever stepping foot out of the slave quarters unless with a Master.”
“Then how…?”
“The guards have apparently been very generous with their bullets.” He grinned. “Jin, Sadie, Tanya, and Devi—the new girls who didn’t get punished because they weren’t involved in the first rebellion—took up the fight without telling anyone. They made explosives out of gunpowder thanks to Jin’s older brother being a bit of a pyro in his youth and rather good at delayed fuses.”
Another teeth-rattling boom.
Peter threw himself over me, sheltering me as the chandelier swung wildly and dust rained from above.
The entire citadel of Joyero groaned and shuddered. Almost as if it agreed with Peter that gunpowder was far more effective than flower fertilizer and chlorine. The sprinklers cut off as if the latest explosion had either damaged their plumbing or they’d reached the end of their water reserves.
Someone screamed in the distance.
“We have to help them.” I shoved Peter’s bulk. “Let me up.”
Rolling off me, he clambered to his feet. Holding the handle of the sword as a walking stick, he gave me his hand to help me up.
The moment I slipped my fingers into his, everything I’d been ignoring pounced on me in horrible detail.
I wasn’t just lightheaded from hunger or clumsy from exhaustion.
I was ice, ice cold.
Nothing worked quite right.
I was stiff and achy, heavy and lumpish.
Almost as if my body was missing its lifeforce.
The lifeforce currently soaked into my silver negligée.
What if he’s right?
What if I’ve lost too much blood?
Swallowing back my fear, I leaned on him for support.
With a grunt, he hoisted me up.
His arm wasn’t nearly strong enough after two months of torture, but together…we managed.
Standing, he didn’t release my hand.
He was so warm.
So, so warm compared to me. Positively on fire compared to me.
Fire.
Flame.
Henri.
I have to find him.
Before it’s too late…
“Come on.” I tugged my fingers from his and headed with a slight sway toward the door.
“Wait.” Marching beside me, Peter reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a rusty dagger. “I got this from the armoury. I don’t know how old it is, but hopefully it holds centuries of protection and accuracy.” Passing it to me, he ordered, “Only use it if your life is in danger. Do not go stabbing everyone we come across. You get your heart rate up any more than it already is, and you’ll probably die.”
“I’m not going to die.”
“Regardless.” He smirked to hide his fear. “Let me do the exterminating, okay? I need you still breathing after this.”
Curling my fingers around the dagger, I nodded and kissed his dirty cheek. “I need you still breathing too, Paavak.”
“In that case, let’s get this over with so we can breathe free together.”
Without another word, we slipped into the smoke-thick corridor and hoped we’d be alive come dawn.
Chapter Sixteen
………………………….
Henri
Fifteen minutes earlier
AFTER A LIFETIME OF BEING alone, I suddenly had a family.
A family made up of different races, nationalities, religions, and creeds.
A family made of jewels who ignored their own terror and training to fight with everything they fucking had.
I was so proud of them.
I was one of them.
They were my responsibility.
My redemption.
And unlike my childhood, I would not fucking fail them.
“Ily!” Skidding to a stop on the deck, I glowered at the star-studded night. Fire rained from the windows above, and embers landed on the deck, sparking with light. Planks caught fire, licking blue, then orange as the stain on the wood became fuel.
“ILY!”
My ears ached for her reply.
Which way should I run?
Where had he taken her?
“Answer me!”
No scream. No sign of which way Victor had gone. No matter. I’d find him.
I broke into a run again.
I leapt over two dead Masters and landed on the grass. I went to charge into the night—
“Wait!”
I ignored the voice.
But a hand clamped onto my shoulder, making me hiss with pain. Without my bandages, my flayed back stung like a motherfucker. Soot and sprinklers, blood and sweat—the recipe ensured my pain added a horrible background screech to the mayhem all around us.
“You can’t go after him naked and unarmed!”
“Let go of me!” I spun on the man holding me prisoner.
No more.
Never again.
I was done being a toy, a possession, a thing.
I bared my teeth. I went to kill—
I stopped as Ben held up a machine gun and a pair of jeans. “Here. Get dressed at least.”
I froze. “You? All of this…is you?”
He shrugged. “No, not just me. Abby and Pen helped liaise with the jewels Victor didn’t punish. And Stewart reminded me all over again that he’s the best computer programmer I know.”
I had a thousand questions.
But they’d have to wait.
Blinking back panic and rage, I snatched the jeans and hoisted them on. After a month of forced nudity, the scratchy density of denim seemed far too restrictive but also…comforting.
Ben waited for me to zip up before holding out the gun. I needed a belt. My waist had shrunk. I barely recognised myself.
The hollowness of my stomach ached with so many empty clenches. My arms shook as I took the gun, finding it far heavier than I should.
I wasn’t in a fit state to fight.
But that wouldn’t stop me from slaughtering every-fucking-one.
“Thanks.” I nodded and broke into a swaying jog.
Ily.
The moment I found her, then I could focus on the rest of the war. I’d be useless if I didn’t know she was okay.
Ben ran beside me, keeping pace easily, all while I panted from the strain my body had endured for so long.
I didn’t question why he’d partnered up with me. I didn’t ask where Stewart was or Abby and Pen. My mind only had one thought.
Ily.
I’m coming, little nightmare.
Hold on.
Groaning, I forced my trembly legs to cover more ground. We ran past hedgerows and fountains all while screams sounded in different parts of the estate.
An explosion made us duck as another room of Victor’s castle imploded. Windows careened outward in a twinkling glass curtain.
Ben raked a hand through his hair, giving me a look. “We were going to wait till Christmas like the original plan, but…watching Vic try to kill Ily tonight. God, we…we couldn’t do it. It had to be now. We were just lucky everyone already knew their roles and could pivot.”
I swallowed hard.
The memory of Vic cutting Ily’s throat.
The blood rolling beneath her collar and down her clavicle.
I shook my head, erasing just how close he came. “You have my thanks. Truly.”
