Page 895 of Coal Hearts

She called him Asher. Apparently, it meant happy one or blessed.

On our weekly video calls, Rachel slowly shed the past and the lines around her eyes smoothed into laughter instead of fear. Her uncle played a huge role in Asher’s life, taking him to work on the small farmlet he had, bouncing him on his hip as he fed the two horses their daily hay. She hadn’t met anyone romantically. She said she didn’t want to. But she was content and safe and happy.

Most of the jewels were.

Henri had even tracked down Faiza (she’d returned home to Abu Dhabi) and May (the cook who’d helped so much) had been reunited with her daughter in England. He’d also found Melanie and Rose—the two doctors who’d patched up our many wounds. We sent them gifts and money, worthless things after what they’d done for us. Melanie had kept me alive and one day, we’d visit as many of the jewels and friends we could to make sure they were as happy as we were.

PETE AKA ‘THE GOOD GUY’: How’s that going by the way? They still catching bad guys?

ILY AKA ‘THE NIGHTMARE’: Good! Ben and Stew finished writing the software two months ago, so the Mercer men can track every trade that flags certain keywords. They’ve already caught so many. I hate that there’s so many. But I’m glad they’re getting what they’re owed.

PETE AKA ‘THE GOOD GUY’: Nice of Victor to tell us how to track them down, huh?

I doubted that was his intention, but Victor had been fundamental in increasing the extermination rate. Thanks to him sharing his business endeavours the night he raped me, we had insider information on how traffickers traded these days. Peter might have saved my life by stepping in front of a bullet, but Ben and Stewart? They’d been the ones to tell everyone to engage when Victor went to cut my throat.

Because of them, we’d all won that night.

Because of them, we were able to put down all the men who thought they could trade and mutilate a human being.

ILY AKA ‘THE NIGHTMARE’: I still have nightmares about those keywords we all brainstormed. Little girl’s dress. Gracie skirt. Ages instead of sizes. All that code.

PETE AKA ‘THE GOOD GUY’: Yeah, but how many has Henri ‘visited’ now? Fifteen? Twenty? Just off tracking online sales? That’s obviously not including the other thirty-four when he went a little crazy. Your fault, by the way. Poor chap thinking you’d died on him.

ILY AKA ‘THE NIGHTMARE’: Ha ha. I think it’s seventeen. And you’re right. It’s a great start to a partnership that I think will do really well. Anywho...are you in France yet? Tell me you are. I can’t wait to see you!

PETE AKA ‘THE GOOD GUY’: Jeez, calm down. You saw me last month. Having contacts with billionaires has made me accustomed to the high-roller lifestyle. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fly coach after this private plane nonsense.

I laughed and threw the final beaded cushion onto the bed. Paavak despised throw cushions. The first thing he did when he stayed with us was shove them all on the floor and forbid me from ever putting them back.

Of course, it only made me cover the bed with so many there was literally no room for him at all.

It’s the little things.

Standing by the window, I sighed and drank in the green meadows and late summer sunshine. My fingers fluttered to my stomach and the surprise tucked deep inside.

We’d been so busy.

We thought we’d have time to pause and breathe then decide what jobs to get and how we wanted domestication to go. But that was before Ben and Stewart badgered Henri to let them visit. Before the four men—Q and Henri, Ben and Stew—sat in Q’s office for hours and somehow came out as business associates.

Ben and Stew’s guilty conscience after going to Victor’s island for so many years and sleeping with Abby and Pen while they were collared—two women who were now their devoted, happy wives—needed a way to clean their karma.

That was how Q committed his team of mercenaries. Henri agreed to play the role of Master long enough to get in the front door. And Ben and Stew used their hacking abilities to break into the bank accounts of rapists and steal their funds.

Not only did the bastards lose their lives, but they also lost every penny to those they’d ever hurt.

Henri had found a job playing his true self: slaughtering the monsters and saving their slaves. When he was at home with me, he was just Hen. If we weren’t playing of course. But when he was out hunting, he was the blackhearted monster who fed on pain with no remorse.

The first few times he’d flown off with his brother to do a ‘job’, I’d huddled in front of the fireplace in panic. Tess had come to visit. She’d plied me with enough wine to ensure I was giggling instead of crying and kept me sane enough to accept that we’d fallen in love with men who would never have a desk job.

PETE AKA ‘THE GOOD GUY’: You still alright if I crash with you guys? I never like to assume.

ILY AKA ‘THE NIGHTMARE’: You know if you tried to stay anywhere else, we’d come over there and kidnap you.

PETE AKA ‘THE GOOD GUY’: Careful. You might give me flashbacks.

ILY AKA ‘THE NIGHTMARE’: Doubt it, you’re far too stubborn for that. How’s the bar work at the local pub going by the way?

My mind slipped down memory lane. When Peter called us from dropping in on his parents unannounced, everything about the prickly proud man who’d taken me under his wing on Victor’s island had changed.