Diamond Kisses (The Jewelry Box #4)

Accept and let it happen.

If I die, I can find him again.

Shifting onto my bloody knees, I held my chin high. “Do it, you sick bastard. Do it so I don’t have to look at you anymore.”

Peter choked. “Ily!”

Roland bared his teeth, stalking into me with fists clenched. “Why, you little—”

“Enough,” Victor hissed. “Decorum, if you please. I’ve had quite enough of brawling for one night.” He pinched the bridge of his nose as if trying to figure out how to salvage his diabolical evening. Dropping his hand, he looked at Henri again where he lay half on his stomach, half twisted on his side.

The angle of his spine once again filled me with horror that his back was broken.

Lowering to his haunches, Victor pressed two fingers against Henri’s blood-soaked neck, checking for his pulse.

I stopped breathing.

Peter stiffened.

Every Master and guard didn’t move as Victor slowly stood, and a smile spread his lips. Pointing at a bucket full to the brim with seawater by the cupboard of skulls, he ordered, “Dump that on him. Now.”

A guard stepped forward, grabbed the bucket, then sloshed his way to Henri. “All of it, Sir?”

Victor nodded and moved back. “Every drop.”

With a nod, the guard lugged the bucket with two hands, then tipped the entire icy contents over Henri.

I waited for him to wake with a gasp. To splutter and shed the lingering shroud of death.

Nothing.

He didn’t even flinch.

My entire heart fractured.

Victor was mistaken.

Whatever pulse he thought he felt—

“Again,” Victor commanded. “Get another bucket from the rockpool.”

With an obedient nod, the guard vanished behind the stone-carved podium—heading in the same direction where we’d followed Peter a few months ago while doing our best to avoid Emerald Bruises—then came back with the bucket glistening and dripping.

“Roll him onto his back this time. Dump it on his face,” Victor ordered.

“Yes, Sir.” Kicking Henri’s shoulder, the guard tripped back as Henri’s dead arm slapped against his boot. His legs remained crossed as his shoulder blades landed against the dampness of the cave’s floor.

“Do it.” Victor rolled his eyes. “I don’t have all night.”

Without a word, the guard upended a waterfall of ocean directly over Henri’s bruised and bleeding face.

Peter stiffened beside me.

My heart stopped beating.

And in a moment of sheer joy and absolute despair, Henri groaned and choked. His chest convulsed upward as if he’d been shocked with electricity. His mouth parted and gasping, his eyes flaring wide as he drowned.

And then, the waterfall was over, and the only sound in the entire cave was Henri learning to breathe again and a few snickers from the Masters.