Page 361 of Coal Hearts

“And you.” Victor pointed at me. “Explain.”

“I told you.” I shrugged, my biceps bunching with Ily’s weight. “She makes me irrational.”

“Mon Dieu, you test me. Je deviens trop vieux pour ces conneries.” (I’m getting too old for this fucking shit.) His eyes narrowed on the two men who hadn’t moved. “Whatever you’ve done seem beyond the capabilities of Dr Belford.” Pulling out a walkie-talkie from his blazer, he cupped it to avoid the rain. “Call Captain Roderigo. Two need to be airlifted to the hospital.”

A crackle and a response. “Yes, Sir.”

Shoving the walkie-talkie back into his pocket, he pinched the bridge of his nose as if I’d once again tried his infamous patience. Finally, he sighed, dropped his arm, and glowered. “If they’re dead, you and I are having yet another fucking conversation.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

“Just...” He flung up his hands, hitting the brolly edges. “Just go to bloody bed, Henri. Before I shoot you.”

I bowed my head. “As you wish.” My eyes caught the discarded gem that I’d found and hurled at some Master’s head. Clutching Ily tight to my chest, I grabbed it, placed it awkwardly on her stomach, then stalked through the thunderstorm. “Goodnight.”

I didn’t stop until I’d dripped all over Victor’s stone pavers in the foyer, left a path of rain up the stairs, and sloshed my way down the storm-drafty corridor.

My hand slipped on my doorknob as I shifted Ily’s weight in my arms.

She tried to get down, but I just shook my head, opened the door, kicked it closed, and carried her into the bathroom.

Placing her gently on her feet in the shower, I turned the water as hot as she liked it—boiling brimstone—and unbuttoned the same shirt I’d only buttoned up a few moments ago.

She didn’t say a word as I stripped her.

Didn’t move as I tossed the soaking material out of the shower, then tore off my own clothing. Only once I was bare as her did I reach for the sweet-smelling body wash and fill my palm.

Her eyes squeezed closed as I gently rubbed suds into her grass-stained skin. My teeth gritted as I fought prehistoric urges and focused on cleansing her from that other bastard.

I didn’t look at her face. Didn’t dare study her eyes. The only thing I could focus on was ensuring her bones weren’t broken and her body wasn’t destroyed. Her soul would come next...only once I was sure she was physically in one piece.

Keeping my attention on where I washed, I glowered at her shoulders, arms, wrists, and hands. My soapy fingers covered her in fragrant bubbles.

The cuts I’d given her a few days ago had healed nicely, slowly fading my autograph.

Was it wrong to hope those little slices would scar?

A permanent reminder that she belonged to me?

“Henri...I’m fine. You don’t need—”

“I have to,” I growled. “Just...let me, okay?”

Sighing, she nodded.

Her permission waked around me as I bathed her, scrutinised her, and kept my touch as detached as possible.

Her right arm was intact.

Good.

I turned to her left and repeated the inspection. Rinsing away green smudges, I glared at a couple of small scratches. A faint bruise on her elbow. A wince as I massaged her hand.

“That hurt?” I asked.

Her back tensed. “I hit Larry. I-I think something cracked.”

“You hit him?”