Sapphire scars, p.8
Sapphire Scars, page 8
How many times I drove that blade into his flesh.
It became meditative.
Calming.
Freeing.
This was what I was.
Death.
And alone.
Always, always alone.
I would’ve kept stabbing if a voice didn’t call me back.
A voice I recognised but wasn’t the one that leashed me.
A voice that caused jealousy and annoyance and worry.
Such worry that I would never be worthy.
Such fear that I would always lose.
“Master H…”
A man’s baritone.
I ignored him.
I drove the knife into another gristly part.
“Henri.”
I shook my head from the unwanted noise.
“Henri!”
I paused.
The smog slowly lifted.
I blinked.
“Henri…”
I gulped at that one.
Feminine, soft, afraid.
Ily.
The world slipped back into focus.
I gagged on the mess I’d caused.
Shoving away from Kyle’s corpse, I shot to my feet and glowered at the knife in my hands. My fingers thick with another’s blood.
Such thick, cooling, congealing blood.
“Put the knife down, Henri.”
That voice again.
Giving me orders when he had no right to do so.
“Put the knife down so you don’t hurt her.”
Ily’s hand landed gently on my shaking forearm.
My head snapped up.
I looked past her to Peter.
He sat upright in a thicket of tussock. Bloody hands on his thighs, pain carved deep into his face. “Please, please don’t hurt her.”
“Henri…you’re okay. It’s over.” Ily reached for the knife. “Can I have this?”
My fingers tensed but then relaxed.
Opening my hand, I presented it to her on my red-dripping palm.
But I didn’t speak.
I didn’t think I would ever speak again.
Animals weren’t allowed the gift of words.
And only an animal could’ve done what I did.
“We need to get rid of the body,” Rachel said, cutting through the buzzing in my brain.
“Tie a few rocks to it and toss it into the ocean,” Peter muttered, faint and swaying. “The tide will drag it out to sea. That’s how Victor gets rid of all his other…” He faded off, swallowing hard.
With a soft gasp, he fell backward.
Ily and the two girls dashed toward him.
I followed silently, almost as if a tether lashed Ily and me together, binding me to her even now.
I was her animal.
Her nightmare.
Towering over Peter, I let the girls stroke his pallid cheeks and mutter worriedly to one another. Things like how they’d get him back to the castle. And how much he needed Dr Belford.
In the middle of their whispered debate, his eyes popped open again.
They locked on me.
And he smiled as if he saw an angel instead of a devil looming over him. “I see what she does now.” Almost dreamy and completely high on agony, he smiled. “You did come for us. You’re going to free us. I know it—”
And then, he passed out.
Chapter Nine
………………………….
Ily
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.
The urge to bend over and hug my bruised chest faded as Rachel cupped her belly, shielding her new pregnancy.
I sucked in shallow breaths as she bit her lower lip. Bracing her shoulders, she nodded. “You’re right. Victor might be psychotic, but he’s strangely fixated on rules. If you shoot us too, I doubt anyone else will have managed to shoot three jewels at close range. He’ll add up the bruises and announce you as the winner.”
None of us mentioned that the winner was entitled to do anything he wanted. And with how empty Henri looked, I honestly didn’t know how far he’d go.
He turned Kyle into ribbons.
“This is nuts.” I threw up my arms, immediately paying for the move with a flush of agony and that nasty stabbing in my side. “Let’s crack open a few balls and just smear the paint over you.”
“It has to be authentic.” Mollie stepped forward, jutting out her chest and presenting her faded bullseye. “The game is called Bruises, remember?”
I shook my head. “The colour doesn’t match. Henri was given orange paint.” I pointed at the area of his jeans that used to be tinged with brightness but only found blood. No sign of orange anywhere, thanks to him wearing every droplet of Kyle’s lifeforce.
“I don’t think it will matter.” Rachel dropped her arms and balled her hands. “Victor has a soft spot for him. I’ve never seen him be so tolerant to another Master before. That has to count for something.”
“What about Peter?” I glanced at our comatose friend. “We can’t shoot him while he’s borderline dead.”
Mollie nodded and pinned her brown eyes on Henri. “I agree with Ily. Just shoot us. Make every bullet count. But leave Peter alone.”
Henri merely nodded.
And then, he let fire.
The canister held far more rounds than I could’ve counted. His aim stayed accurate as he worked his way down each girl’s legs and then shot at their shoulders and arms. At the end, he shot once…directly at their bullseye. They staggered back in matching pain, but at least he hadn’t shot anywhere in their soft middles.
Who was this ice-cold man who moved like rigor mortis had set in, yet had the foresight not to hurt unnecessarily?
I wished Kyle had been that considerate.
Every organ throbbed. My liver and kidneys, stomach and womb. Perfectly round bruises swelled and grew hotter the deeper night fell.
Tossing the empty gun at Mollie, Henri muttered, “Bring that with us.” Then he strode toward the eviscerated corpse that used to be Kyle and hauled him over his shoulder like a dead deer.
My eyes widened as he headed toward the hidden exit where the other Masters had gone.
He disappeared, leaving the three of us to blink in exhaustion and try to figure out our next step.
I couldn’t get a read on him.
I daren’t ask him if he’d suddenly switched back to our side.
When he came back, minus a body, and headed toward the other Master he’d dispatched with a log to his head, he ordered, “Stay here.”
Those two words ignited a fire within us.
We didn’t listen.
All three of us fell into helping.
Henri staggered with his own injuries and exhaustion but didn’t order us to stop as Rachel and Mollie took a dead Master’s arm, and I helped Henri with the legs.
Silently, we’d carried the Master, slung like a hammock, out of the cave via a civilised tunnel and heaved our way up rough-hewn stairs that hinted the open-top cave was known and used, even if its wild appearance said otherwise.
Every step cost me.
Every shallow, painful breath not nearly enough for my winded, wounded frame.
I existed purely in the numbing shock of adrenaline.
At the top, we cut through the sparse trees and ended up at the cliffs.
Down below, the angry tide frothed and crashed.
Dusk had well and truly become night, and the half-moon granted just enough light to catch Henri’s nod. Without a word, we all joined in the rhythmic swing as we gathered up enough momentum to toss the body over the side.
We let go.
The body went sailing through the air.
No splash.
No sign he’d fallen.
Henri raked both hands through his blood-soaked hair, looked at the moon with a heavy exhale, then slowly led us back to the cave.
Peter lay in a small puddle of moonlight, looking as if this wasn’t just a resting spot but his new grave.
None of us said a word as Henri stumbled, righted himself, then headed toward Peter. His shoulders sagged with tiredness; his arm oozed with blood.
He towered over Peter with hands fisted and an unreadable black look. He studied my friend for so long, I feared he meant to dispatch him and leave him there.
Worry crawled up my spine.
If he means to kill him…
Both Rachel and I darted forward and barricaded ourselves in front of him. “What are you doing?”
He blinked as if the answer was obvious even though he didn’t speak.
Pushing us aside, Henri ducked to his haunches, gathered Peter’s unconscious limbs, and hoisted him into his arms.
My heart squeezed.
Hope, delicious hope.
All the pressure, the pain, and the fear of the day threatened to become too much as I witnessed a man who’d willingly bullied this jewel. A Master who’d judged him, ridiculed him, and been jealous of him—cradle him close as if he was a brother.
Tears stung my eyes as Henri swayed a little before clutching Peter closer to his chest.
Peter’s head flopped back, his shoulders supported by Henri’s arm and his legs draped over another.
Was Henri helping him because of tactic and schemes? Did he do this to stay in Victor’s good graces? Or was he helping because none of this was right? All of this was wrong. So very, very wrong.
And…he’d participated.
Silently, we followed him as he carried Peter out through the tunnel and up the stairs. I’d left the knife tucked discreetly behind a rock, aware the guards would steal it the moment I stepped foot into the stronghold.
Every instinct ordered me not to go back there, but…what choice did we have?
Enter with Henri as our reigning winner and trust him to keep us safe or…risk our lives by swimming.
Krish would never forgive me if I drowned.
No one spoke as we padded silently through the forest, climbing higher and higher, following the same paths we’d sprinted down this morning.
Every day since I’d arrived here, the hours had defied the usual length of a normal trip around the sun. It felt as if I’d been a prisoner for years, yet that journey through the woods felt like it lasted an eternity.
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.”
Victor huffed. “Please tell me you haven’t killed any more of my guests, mon ami.”
“No.” Henri kept a cool expression. “I’ve learned my lesson not to disobey you. I…I merely defended myself. I got injured for the effort, but I left him alive. He was still in the cave when the tide came in. I didn’t see what happened after that.”
