Chapter Thirty
………………………….
Henri
I RESISTED THE URGE TO look over my shoulder as I made my way down the service corridors of Victor’s castle. Guards loitered along the journey, some alert, others bored. At least no one stopped me as I counted off the excruciatingly long minutes since Ily had left my side. I’d lasted eighteen of those damn minutes before stalking after her.
Luckily, Victor hadn’t been around this morning.
The Masters at breakfast were far too interested in playing with their new jewels.
And Peter had given Ily a pointed look as we’d entered the ballroom at nine this morning, confirming whatever appointment they’d made.
Yanking at the collar of my grey t-shirt, I second-guessed the colour. I should’ve worn black to hide the pit stains if I started sweating. I prickled with sickening nerves.
I had no idea where I was going, but I followed the clamouring noises of pots and pans and the whiff of tasty things. Stepping into the kitchens shot me back to medieval times with soot-stained ceilings, coal ranges, and harried servants.
The bricked walls formed a circular shape, reminding me of the caves beneath our feet. The huge slab of beef popping and sizzling in a gigantic hearth turned by itself on an automatic rotisserie. Cooks and sous chefs, pastry artisans, and scullery maids; the entire place bustled with activity.
A short, curvy woman with greying hair and a food-stained apron noticed me first.
Abandoning a bubbling pot and wiping her hands on a tea towel hooked into her apron strings, she hustled toward me and tugged on my wrist for me to duck to her short height.
Scowling, I shot a look at the guard watching the mayhem and the other standing by the open door to the outside. A few chickens squawked beyond, kicked at by a young man as he carried in an armful of greens.
I ducked at the knees and tipped forward.
“They’re by the larder,” she whispered. “The camera only has a narrow dead spot. Send the three girls to me. They’ve been talking for long enough. Ensure your back is to the room and be quick about it.”
Before I could ask anything, she pushed me toward the shadowy left corner.
Ily beckoned from where she stood with Rachel, Mollie, and Peter.
My gut churned as I strode toward them.
Shoving my hands into my jeans pockets, I hoped to God I wouldn’t reach for her, kiss her, or try to snatch her away from Peter. Every instinct surged to keep her close. I hated that she’d been away from my side twice this morning.
Twice too many.
Peter never took his dark eyes off me as I ducked around a girl carrying a large tray of sliced fruit. Skin-coloured fingerless gloves and socks covered his hands and feet. His bare chest didn’t seem too bruised, and his linen pants were free from blood.
He looked a damn sight better than he had when I’d carried him back from the caves. That night, his skin had been grey. Now, it glowed with the same honey tan as Ily. Taller than her but just as lean, he could’ve been her brother.
A cousin.
Family.
Gritting my teeth, I gave myself a stern talking to.
You will forgive him for wanting her.
He isn’t competition. He’s her friend. We are on the same side.
Did Ily know she had two men in love with her?
Did she suspect the depth of his feelings?
My heart fisted with a surge of pity for him.
I was the luckiest motherfucker in the world because she’d chosen me. The threads of fate had given her to me. I had no idea what this twin flame thing meant or if it even existed, but I did know Ily was special. Ily was mine. And I would do whatever it goddamn took to get her free.
Including being kind to the man who would never have her.
Stopping in the shadows of a walk-in pantry, I made eye contact with all of them.
Rachel blushed and dropped her gaze.
All the sickness, depression, and horror of that night in Victor’s chambers came back. I had no control as I stepped into her and whispered, “I am so, so sorry for what I did.”
She froze. Her lips parted in shock. “I-It’s…fine.”
“It’s not fine.” I balled my hands. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But…it happened. I hurt you. And I’m forever in your debt.” I glanced at Mollie. “I’m in both your debts for not ratting me out to Victor about Ky—”
“Ah, the less spoken about that, the better,” Peter interrupted, throwing a look at the camera angled away from us. “Just in case.”
Nodding, I shrugged. “I owe all of you the biggest apology.”
Ily squeezed Mollie’s hand.
Mollie flinched, pain etching her face. I skimmed her body and the skimpy blue lingerie she wore. Bright red handprints painted her belly and thighs.
Roland.
Fury howled. My temper exploded. “I promise I’ll kill him for you. Somehow.”
She gave me a conspiratorial glance. “Definitely not a cop if you’re willing to kill for us.”
“Better than a cop,” Ily whispered, smiling at me softly. “He’s a Mercer.”
My heart skipped.
I practically fucking swooned toward her, drawn in by the leash of her love.
Peter looked at both of us as if his favourite puppy had just died.
The moment stretched until Ily shook herself and glanced behind me.
I turned to look, spying the older woman waving at us with her tea towel.
Releasing Mollie’s hand, Ily caught my eyes. “We have to go. I’ll return to the jewel quarters with Mols and Rach.”
I opened my mouth to stop that idea. She might not be safe wandering around the fortress with Masters high on testosterone, but she held up her hand and proved our thoughts were in sync just like our heartbeats and souls.
“I’ll be safe, I swear. We’ll go straight there. I won’t leave until you come to get me.”
Genuine fear cut through me at the thought of her being so far away.
“I’ll talk to you soon then,” Peter murmured, his eyes flicking to Ily’s. “We need to find a way to catch up properly.” His gaze shot to mine, narrowed and cold. “Maybe you can give her more time with us. We can’t liaise properly if you keep her shackled to your bed.”
“Paavak,” Ily grumbled.
“I know. I know.” Giving me a wary look, Peter stepped into her and wrapped his arms around her. “Just be safe, jaanu.”
Ily gave me a guilty wince all while her arms went around him.
Jaanu?
What the hell did that mean?
It took all my willpower to stand by and let Peter hug my reason for existence.
Rachel gave me a sad shrug and Mollie a wry smile before the two jewels broke apart and Peter pushed his luck by kissing Ily on her cheek. He whispered a string of Hindi into her ear.
It was so fucking hard not to grab her.
Breaking apart from him, Ily stepped into me, squeezed my shaking fingers, then darted out of the busy kitchens.
Mollie followed her, but Rachel lingered.
Cupping her lower belly, she struggled for words. “W-We’re trusting you with our lives, Master H.”
“Henri.”
She ducked her chin. She looked so frail and young and afraid.
Sleeping with her meant nothing. It’d been forced on both our accounts. Yet I couldn’t deny a tenderness bloomed inside me. A protectiveness full of despair for how long she’d been Victor’s plaything.
Stepping into me, she kept her voice low. “I see the way you look at her. I know how much it broke you to have to…to have to be with me. But I hope you know I’m grateful it was you he shared me with. You didn’t hurt me. You’re willing to help us. And you’re doing something no one else has done. Ily’s very lucky to have you.”
She scurried away before I could reply.
I exhaled heavily.
My nape prickled as I braced myself and looked at Peter.
Standing with his back against the pantry wall and arms crossed, he arched his chin. “You better come closer so the cameras can’t see you.”
Sucking in a breath and all my restraint, I stepped deeper into the shadows and fought back the shadows within me.
I had no idea how or where to start.
This was his show. His plan.
We didn’t speak for ages, animosity crackling loudly between us.
His fingers dug into his biceps as he crossed his arms tighter. “I’m going to say a few things, and once I’ve said them, that’s it, okay? Bygones.”
I nodded warily. “Okay…”
“Thank you for carrying me back to the castle.” His cheeks pinked. “I hate that it happened but…thank you.”
I reared back, not expecting that. “Eh…you’re welcome?”
“Don’t think that one act of kindness means I suddenly like you. I don’t.” He sniffed with his chin in the air. “In fact, I can’t stand you because I know what you are and this tame front you’re putting on doesn’t fool me. I’ve always told Ily you were the worst of the lot, and I stand by that, even now.”
“You what?” My knuckles cracked as I balled my hands. “You told her I was the worst?”
“I did and I’m right. The way you stabbed…” He shook his head. “The way you shut down your humanity that night. Only a psychopath can do that, and I’m still not convinced that isn’t what you are. This could be some kind of ploy to make us trust you, only for you to deliver us up to Vic.”
I glowered at him. “Then what the fuck am I doing here?”
“Because we don’t have any other choice.”
“So you figured you’d get me on your side by calling me a psychopath and kissing Ily in front of me?” I chuckled blackly. “You’re lucky I don’t punch you.”
“Ily is my friend.”
“Bullshit.” I coughed.
“Excuse me?”
Fine.
He wanted to do this?
Okay then.
I hadn’t come here to hurt him. In fact, I clung to my best behaviour because I felt sorry for the bastard. But…if he wanted to play…I’ll fucking play.
Stepping into him, crowding him against the wall, I smirked from my taller height. “Alright…you asked for this. You say you know me? Well, I know you. I know that you’re in love with her. I know that you want her. You think she’ll choose you over me because you’re the good guy in all of this, and the good guy always wins.”
His eyes flashed, true fury appearing. “You’re right. I am the good guy. So what does that make you?”
“The devil.” I nodded. “I’m fully aware.”
“You’ve hurt her. She’ll never forgive you for that.”
“I’ve already told her I’ll do everything in my power to repent. Including helping get you free.”
“Whatever. You won’t stop. You’ll keep hurting her because that’s who you are.”
“She knows who I am. I haven’t hid a damn thing from her. Unlike you—”
“Me? I’ve hid nothing.”
“Liar.” I squeezed my nape. “Keep telling yourself that. Doesn’t change the fact that we’re both in love with her. Only difference is, I had the guts to tell her. What’s the matter, Pete? Afraid she’ll tell you point blank that she doesn’t feel the same way?”
“Whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “You’re not in love with her. You don’t know a damn thing about her. You’re just in love with the idea of her. You’re like a kid who has a toy for the first time and can’t share.”
“I just shared her with you, didn’t I? I let you hug her. Kiss her. Whisper whatever pet name you used in her ear.”
He smirked. “Jealous?”
“Of you?” I shrugged. “Nope. Actually, you know what? You want the truth? Fine. You’re the only man who has ever threatened me in that way, so yes. You made me jealous. But…” I smiled. “That was before I realised that she loved me back. Before I realised there is no way in hell she wasn’t born to be mine when every cell in my body belongs to her. So…” I stabbed him in the chest with my finger. “Be my guest. Love her without telling her. Believe in your little fantasies that one day she’ll be in your bed, not mine. I won’t stop you. I won’t even hate you for trying to steal her. I know Ily is mine and I know what it’s like to want something you can’t have. It hurts. It hurts so fucking much. So no, I don’t hate you anymore, Peter. I just pity you because I was you.”
He winced and rubbed at where I’d poked him.
Our verbal fight swirled around us.
I braced for more.
A myriad of emotions flashed over his face. Loathing, loss, pain. So, so much pain.
My heart twisted; I backed up a step.
Ah shit.
I hadn’t meant to do that.
For all my conviction, he still threatened me. Still made me worry that despite all the love I had for Ily, it might not be enough. He was the good guy. He was the hero to all the jewels in here. He deserved her. Not me. He was worthy. I wasn’t.
My issue with him went far deeper than just his ability to steal Ily from me. My issue was that I’d actually let him. If Ily one day admitted she’d made a mistake and loved him over me…I—
Fuck, I’d let her go.
I’d stalk the shit out of her to make sure she was safe but…I would let her be his because her happiness was far, far more important than mine, and in the outside world, Peter could make her far happier than I ever could. He’d be good to her. Kind to her. He wouldn’t crave her blood or dream of making her scream.
An image of Ily taking Peter home to meet her parents instead of me caught me around the back of the throat. He probably practiced the same faith. Spoke the same language. Had a good and pure heart.
He would be accepted. Acceptable.
But me? I would always have to hide the depth of what I was when face to face with the wonderful people Ily had descended from.
My chin tipped down.
I pinched the bridge of my nose.
This was pointless.
I’d get the details from Ily.
Just run.
Looking up, I dropped my hand. “I’m gonna go. This…this isn’t gonna work.”
His jaw clenched.
He nodded.
I turned to leave.
His hand latched around my bicep. “Fuck…wait.” Letting me go, he raked his fingerless gloved hands through his thick brown hair. Looking up at the sooty ceiling, he closed his eyes as if begging the Almighty for strength.
When he finally looked at me again, he said stiffly, “I…you threaten me too. And you might be right.”
“That you’re in love with her.”
He just shrugged so fucking sadly, I had the crazy urge to pat him on the shoulder.
Sniffing back whatever emotions he refused to share, he braced himself. “Look, I’m sorry. This is asking a lot of me. To trust a Master? To trust you? I know what I saw in that cave and know that Ily sees the good in you, but…it’s hard.”
“I get it.” I crossed my arms. “More than you know.”
He huffed. “I…I’ve always been sceptical and have a habit of trusting the wrong people. That’s how I ended up here so…I can’t really claim I have good instincts. So…fuck it. I’m going to ignore those instincts and trust what I see instead.”
“And what do you see?”
He gave me a twisted smile. “I wished I didn’t…believe me. But I see a man who is so fucking in love with Ilyana he’d carve out his heart and slap it onto a plate for her to eat if she told him she was even slightly peckish.”
I stiffened.
Not what I expected him to say.
“I see a man who killed out of pure passion not psychopathic joy. I see a man who’s made mistakes and definitely has a shit ton of issues but…a man who wants to be good despite every part of him being dark.”
My spine tingled. “I didn’t come here for the shrink special—”
“You don’t understand how much it meant to me that Kyle got what he deserved. He’s cut so many of us. He’s burned us, brutalised us, and has torn my body in two each time he fucked me.” His limbs started to shake as he dug his hands into his linen pockets. “I wanted to die that day. Pretty sure I would’ve if it wasn’t for Ily, Rach, Mollie…and you. I’m kinda mad at all of you if I’m honest. I could’ve been free by now, and…seeing as I can’t say this to them, I’ll say it to you.” He snickered. “Isn’t that fucking hilarious? Can’t be honest with the people I love the most, yet I’ll confess all this shit to the man who has everything I want.”
He looked at the floor.
I waited.
I’d been where he was so many fucking times.
The least I could do was be patient.
Finally, he choked, “I’m so close to being done, man. I-I’m barely holding on.”
I rocked back on my heels.
Yet another thing I definitely hadn’t expected.
But…I probably should have.
Peter came across as flippant and bold, but wasn’t everyone hiding something in this godforsaken place? All of them just hanging on, surviving, hiding, hoping?
Standing there in a busy kitchen with steam and sugar and salt, I saw everything he’d done his best to hide.
Everything Ily probably saw. Everything mirrored in me.
And all that tenderness inside me welled up to include him.
The guy in love with my girl.
The one man who had the power to rip out my heart if Ily ever chose him.
“You’re not allowed to give up yet,” I whispered, my voice rough.
He laughed under his breath, trying to hide his despair. His brown eyes met mine as he flashed his gloved palms in a sad shrug. “When?”
Fuck.
That one word.
It cut me.
Stepping into him, all those urges to protect my siblings when I was younger surged. I fought the very real need to hug the bastard. “I don’t know. But not yet.”
He sniffed and nodded.
It took him a moment, but his shoulders straightened. “I did not mean to say any of that. What the hell?”
“It’s fine.”
He narrowed his eyes with a flash of rage. “You’re good, I’ll give you that.”
“Good at what?”
“Making people hope.”
I flinched.
“You tortured Ily with that hope when you first arrived. I hated you for that. I still do. Hope is the worst fucking emotion in here and I was perfectly fine before Ily infected me with that disease. She gave me hope. And God, it’s ruined me.” A deeper flush of anger on his face. “You know, I was coping just fine before she came along. Of course, for the first year, I fought. I got my ass handed to me over and over again. But by the time I realised I couldn’t win, Victor started rewarding me. Trusting me. Making me do things I can never undo.”
He shook his head, unable to stop now he’d started. “But the thing about hope is…it’s too fucking powerful to stop once someone dangles it in front of you. It spreads like the flu. It kills the weak and weakens the strong. So I hope to fucking God you’re going to see this through with us, because if you don’t? If you decide the darkness is easier and keeping Ily collared is better than all the other shit that might follow, then you might as well just kill us now because we won’t survive. Not after this.”
His words hovered in the air between us.
I swallowed hard.
I had no idea what to say.
For a moment, I wanted to run again but then I found myself saying, “I get that asking you to trust me when I’m a Master and you’re a slave isn’t easy. But we’re more similar than you think.”
“Yeah, okay.” His rolled his eyes. “Sure.”
“I have shit in my past that I can’t undo as well. The things I’ve participated in…” I shuddered. “I’ll take most of them to my grave.”
“What could you have possibly done to say we’re similar?”
I stiffened. I didn’t want to tell him, but words tumbled anyway. “There was no one to protect me either. No one to stop him. I cried as I hurt women who’d only ever been nice to me. I had to live with those same women afterward and rightly deserved their hate. Not one of them dared look in my direction. No one talked to me, hugged me. The loneliness of being ostracised—” I cut myself off with a sneer. “Fuck. That’s not important. What is important is—”
“You were raised in a place like this?” Peter sniffed, his face guarded.
“Not as grand or with lots of guests, but yes.”
“So you admit it’s not just a desire but in your fucking genes? And you think you can ride off into the sunset with Ily and what? Forget who you are? Put aside all that shit? All this power?”
“I know enough of my needs that I never want to break her. I need her to fight back—”
“Wow, you truly are sick.” He almost spat on my feet. “I hope she leaves you. She deserves better.”
“I agree. She does deserve better.” A wash of remorse chilled me. I snorted with disbelief as I confessed. “And if she chose you over me, I wouldn’t stop her.”
“What?” He eyes popped wide. “Y-You’re saying you’d step aside?”
“I am.” I fought the jittery mess of my pulse. “But I would also fight like hell because what you saw is true. I would cut out my heart if she wanted to dine on it. I would cut out the heart of all those she asked me to. I’m twisted, I won’t deny that. But what you didn’t see is…when I love someone, I become the most faithful son of a bitch. And Ily loves you. Therefore, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.”
He staggered a little. “She said that? That she loves me?”
I sighed.
I really, really didn’t want to hurt him.
I tried not to say it.
I said it anyway. “As a friend. A cousin perhaps.”
“A cousin?” He winced. “She said she loves me like a cousin?”
“Fuck’s sake.” Raking both hands through my hair, I glowered. “No, you fool. We don’t exactly lie around talking about you. I have no idea how she feels about you. I just…I saw the way she looked at you before Emerald Bruises started. You were high and hurting and her heart fucking broke for you.”
“Because she loves me…”
“Because she cares about you. Look, I have to go. I don’t trust anyone in this godforsaken place and can’t think straight when she isn’t near me. Are we doing this or not?”
“You think a sob story of you as a kid is gonna earn my trust?”
“Merde, you’re hard work.” Crowding him, I held out my hand. “You need a vow? Fine. I’m in. I’m all fucking in. I’m doing this—not for you or for her—but for my brothers and sisters who I failed when I was younger. I’m in, alright?”
Peter never broke eye contact.
His worry and fear faded a little as he looked at my outstretched hand.
“Come on, Peter…” Ticking time scratched against my nerves. “Do we have a deal or not?”
Swallowing hard, he studied me.
He saw me.
Judged me.
And then, he softened.
His hate turned to hope.
His loathing to trust.
And for the first time in my pitiful life, I felt a brotherly bond.
The same bond I’d tried to cultivate with Q.
I hated that it was with the man who wanted what I had, but…it also made sense.
We were the same in that respect.
Slowly, he inserted his gloved hand into mine.
We both winced at the contact.
Both cringed away from the sensation of signing our lives over to each other.
“It’s Paavak,” he said with a proud edge, shaking my hand. “Paavak Chauhan.”
“Henri Mercer.”
His lips twitched. “And you’re not a cop.”
“Better.” I grinned and broke the shake. “I have no laws I need to follow and already have blood on my hands. What’s a little more?”
Stepping into me, his voice dropped to a quieter whisper. “When the time comes to kill Victor…I-I want that right.”
My eyes flared. “Fine.”
“In that case…” Stepping back, he nodded at the cook beckoning us to hurry. “So far, we’ve made twenty-three small bombs and hidden them in the bedrooms that aren’t used. We’re on track to making eighty of the damn things, including a few sketchy ones that Mollie doesn’t want to make but Rachel says are needed if we want to cause structural damage. We have a few cleaners on our side and most of the jewels. We haven’t told the new slaves yet for obvious reasons. We have two gardeners working for us and most of the kitchen staff. And are currently trying to figure out what guards could be turned. If you can get a guard or two on our side, then it would mean we had a few guns for when the time comes.”
He gave me a weary look. “That reminds me. The night of the treasure hunt, Ily and I overheard Master L—Larry—say that he has a guard on retainer and plans on killing you with their gun.”
“Wait, what?”
“Keep your wits about you and stay alert. Not sure who he’s bribed, but…I’ll let you know if I find out anything more.”
“Gee thanks.”
His eyes got shifty as he glanced around the kitchens. “Joyero will be busy until Christmas, especially now that Victor has allowed his guests back. We need you to keep him distracted. Listen if he starts making noises about anything we’re doing. If he sounds suspicious or gives you any reason to think he’s onto us, let us know immediately.”
My heart thudded painfully. “You’re planning on blowing the place up?”
He nodded. “Christmas Day Victor will be here, mostly alone. A few stragglers will be here too—those without a family or kids to entertain on the big day. We’ll have all the presents go off at noon. And then…we just have to hope.”
Shit.
I didn’t speak, absorbing the mess he’d just described.
Fidgeting, Peter asked quietly, “So…what do you think of the plan?”
Yes, the plan.
I had a fuck ton of issues with it.
I’d read enough books to know that the grand plans of attack and surprise never went like the characters expected them to.
Especially a ragtag bunch of people who had no experience in war.
I exhaled hard. “Want my honest opinion?”
“I don’t know…do I?”
“I’m assuming by bombs you mean smoky things that have to be lit by hand? Little fire starters that are more of a nuisance than catastrophic?”
“We’ve got all the usual household cleaning supplies. Diesel and petrol from the different generators and Styrofoam that Rachel says will make—”
“Homemade napalm.”
His eyebrows knitted together. “You know how to make it too?”
“I read. And if you intend on setting yourself on fire along with the entire island, then sure, make that. Napalm spreads in a second, melts even stone, and cannot be put out.” I struggled with another wash of despair. The waves weren’t as thick now that Ily and I had talked, but I still suffered beneath the crushing, miserable weight.
Especially now.
Especially now that I’d heard their plan and came face to face with the very real notion that…there was no plan.
Not one that would work anyway.
“Even if you do manage to fly under Victor’s radar long enough to make your little ‘presents’, hide them, and find a way to light them all at the right time, unless you have weapons, you’re just as dead.”
“Well, you’re a bag of fucking positivity.”
“I’m only trying to help. Even if you succeeded and pulled off the impossible—because it is impossible unless you have proper ignition, fuses, fuel, correct placement, structural blueprints, etcetera—it’s a waste of bloody time.”
“You got a better idea?” Peter scowled.
“Nope, but I’ll think about it. I need to know every little detail. How are you keeping the chemicals separate before detonation? What fuses are you using? Do you have checkpoints and timeframes mapped out? Who lights what? What if one doesn’t go off and—?”
“Rachel is a chemist. Mollie is a quantum physicist. I’m leaving the finer details to them.”
“Still won’t work.” I checked my watch.
Too long.
Time to go.
Peter looked as if he’d punch me, but then he groaned and scrubbed his face. Thick depression rose up and choked him. “So you’re saying to give up before we’ve even begun? What the fuck sort of advice is that? I told you…I won’t survive. I’m done. I’m so fucking done that I’m ready to do anything, even if I die while doing it.”
I fought the urge to leave. “Want to know what I’d do? What all the successful breakouts in the books I’ve read have done?”
“I’m dying with suspense.”
“Keep it simple. If this was an old castle with old wiring, that would be your ticket. Short-circuit the switchboard and start an electrical fire. Maybe try to blow up the generator tanks. Diesel doesn’t ignite easily, though, so you’d have to consider that. But this place isn’t old, and Victor is far too sly for you to underestimate him. He’s always one step ahead, and you know as well as I do that it will be a fucking miracle if you manage to get a fart past him, let alone a fucking coup.”
Peter hung his head and didn’t say anything.
I’d hurt him again.
I didn’t like it…but it was necessary.
If they continued running around thinking they were all James fucking Bond, someone would slip up and we’d all die.
“Stop making the bombs. Focus more on what’s going to happen on Christmas Day. Where will the guards be? How many jewels per guard are needed to overwhelm him and grab his gun? You don’t need bombs if you plan it right.”
“We’re out-numbered. Of course we need bombs.”
“No, you need distractions. Set some fires. Splash some petrol around to make it spread. Distract and disorient. Get as many weapons as you can and be prepared to actually use them—”
“Peter. Peter.” One of the girls working at the stainless-steel bench threw a peeled onion at us.
His eyes shot behind me. “Ah, shit.” Bolting away from the larder, he skidded to a stop beside the pretty cook seasoning a huge tray of vegetables. The girl gave him a worried look. He shook his head.
I spun on my heel just as the other cook collided with me and shoved a shiny green apple into my hands. “Here.”
I went to ask—
The guard by the door stood to full attention.
And in walked Victor.
A surge of fear swamped me, followed by an ice-cold blanket of detachment. Perhaps I was a psychopath after all, because the dissociation between planning a war with Peter and my current snowy calm couldn’t exist in the same person.
“Victor!” I strolled toward him, tossing my apple into the air before catching it and taking a big juicy bite. “You hungry too?”
He scowled, looking me up and down. “Henri. What on earth are you doing down here?” He eyed my apple. “Didn’t you find enough to eat at breakfast?”
I took another bite, smacking obnoxiously. “Of course I did. Your staff put on a fabulous spread. I was just craving some fruit is all.”
“Humpf.” His gaze left mine, distracted and not interested.
His face slipped into a snide, cruel smile the minute he found who he was looking for. “Peter. There you are.”
Peter had enough acting ability to look up in pure, perfected shock. “Me, Sir V?”
“Branson said he sent you on an errand thirty minutes ago and you haven’t returned to him. There better be a good reason for the delay.”
“Sorry, Sir V.” Ducking around the bench, he stopped in front of Victor. “I…Master B asked me to grab some of his favourite tartlets. I didn’t see them at breakfast, so I came here to see if any had been made.”
“Tartlets? What tartlets?”
“These, Sir.” The short cook bustled forward with a steamy tray of lemon custard things. “Guest Branson asked me to make them when he arrived yesterday morning. I’ve only just had time.” She bowed over the tray. “Forgive me, Sir. We’re just so busy with how many guests are here and—”
“Yes, yes. That’s quite enough.” Victor snagged a tart for himself and pointed at Peter. “Take a plate to him immediately. How dare you fucking dilly-dally as if you own the place.” He looked past him to the pretty girl who kept seasoning the vegetables. They’d be inedible with the amount of salt she’d sprinkled. “I might think you came down here because you’ve decided to tup the scullery maid.”
Peter shook his head. “No, Sir V. Never.”
Victor studied him carefully. “Remember what happened when you kissed Ily in the vault?” He clucked his tongue and tapped Peter on the cheek. “Do you want to be reminded that fraternizing with any jewel or staff upsets me?”
“No, Sir V.”
“Well then. Run along.”
“Yes, Sir V.”
Peter grabbed a few tarts and took off.
He didn’t look in my direction.
I took another bite of my apple all while my stomach snarled and my old friend nausea came thick.
Sighing heavily as if he was sick of unruly jewels, Victor rolled his eyes in my direction. “Honestly, how am I supposed to provide a good fuck to my guests when my jewels are running around like cockroaches?”
“I hear you.” I nodded. “Hard to find good slaves these days.”
Victor snickered. “That it is, my friend. That it is. No matter.” Clapping his hands, he twisted his wrist and looked at his sparkly Rolex. “Damn, I have a phone conference I need to attend. No time to play for me today, but…if you’re interested. We could maybe catch up tonight? A few drinks? Another evening with just the four of us?”
“Sounds great.” I toasted him with my apple.
“Fantastique.” Squeezing my elbow, he grinned. “See you later then, Mercer. Don’t have too much fun without me.”
I watched him go.
I didn’t move until the guard stopped puffing out his chest and slouched again.
And then I moved as slowly and as inconspicuously as possible toward the jewel quarters and Ily.