Page 706 of Coal Hearts

Henri’s head lolled forward; his knees buckled.

I was glad he passed out again.

At least he wouldn’t feel—

He woke with another scream as Ian yanked his arm forward. The pop of Henri’s shoulder locking back into place made my stomach roil.

But relief filled me too.

Now his joint was back in position his spine looked okay.

Thank God.

“There.” Ian backed up. “Happy now?”

Victor smirked. “Very. Thank you.” Nodding at the guards, he said, “Altar. Do it.”

Henri’s left shoe dragged along the ground as the two guards lugged him toward the stone platform. He’d lost his right shoe and his sock.

Another two guards stepped forward and grabbed his legs. As one, they slung him like a carcass, reminding me of how we’d thrown Kyle over the cliff.

The heavy thud of his body as Henri landed.

The dangle of his dirt and blood-covered limbs.

He flickered in and out of awareness and agony. Cradling his newly set arm, he groaned and did his best to sit up but failed.

My heart wrenched in my chest; I couldn’t breathe.

Seeing him on the altar made every part of me howl for help.

Removing his handkerchief again, Victor dabbed at his face as he stood over Henri. He studied him for a moment as if trying to decide what to do.

Henri spasmed. Rolling over, he almost fell off the stone table as he convulsed and spat up a huge glob of blood.

“Easy, easy.” Victor pressed Henri’s no-longer-dislocated shoulder down. “Breathe.”

Henri cried out. He licked his split lip. “Vic—”

“I know.” Victor’s tone was soft and consoling. His touch as he cupped Henri’s bloody cheek fatherly and gentle.

Henri twitched and moaned, his face swollen from so many punches, his jaw puffy, his shirt torn and cape missing.

“There, there,” Victor crooned as Henri sucked in a breath and cracked open blood-shot eyes. He flinched as he noticed Victor touching him. A heavy groan escaped him as he wrapped his good arm around his chest.

Had the guards broken a few ribs too?

What else had they broken?

“He needs to see Dr Belford,” I snapped, gagging on fear all while trying to be brave. “You have to help him.”

Victor sighed and caught my eyes. “Oh, I have to help, do I?” He clucked his tongue. “Did I have to play nice when I knew all along he was consorting with you? Did I have to be the better person when he betrayed me? Did I have to silently forgive him when Kyle’s body washed up covered in stab wounds? Did I have to pretend he didn’t lie to my face about what happened in the caves that day? Did I have to hope that my offer to make him family—to make him godfather to my son—would sway him to forsake you and choose me instead?”

Peter sucked in a gasp beside me.

So Victor knew Henri was complicit all along.

We were so stupid.