Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 101988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 510(@200wpm)___ 408(@250wpm)___ 340(@300wpm)
My heart thundered as she guided me toward the guards and their paint. We held eye contact as red dots were painted right on our sternum and spine, then rings of white and black feathered outward.
On the last circle, a twanging noise rang out across the gardens.
A gong.
Every jewel froze.
The guards smiled.
Peter glittered in sweat, his body beyond abuse and most likely going into shock.
What if he dies today?
What if he died because his heart went into cardiac arrest from running on burned feet?
More tears glossed.
Agony pierced my chest.
I choked on terror as the guards rounded us up at gunpoint then marched us in a neat line away from the service area of the castle and toward the open drawbridge in the far, far distance.
Chapter Twenty
………………………….
Henri
I COULDN’T FUCKING MOVE AS thirty jewels appeared in the distance around the back of the castle. Some hobbled, some shuffled, some cried, some glowered, but all of them were marked with a target.
White and black circles with red marking the spot.
The gun in my hand weighed a million tonnes.
The top canister screwed into place was full of tiny balls containing paint.
I had no idea what colour had been assigned to me.
Didn’t want to know.
For all my urges and all my inhuman tendencies, I wasn’t down with this.
This wasn’t sexy or fun.
This was fucking…barbaric.
Other Masters chuckled and chatted amongst themselves.
Charles tried to strike up a conversation with me, but I turned my back and walked away.
I couldn’t.
Fuck, I could barely stop myself from shooting all these motherfuckers. Let alone indulge in blood sport convo before the big hunt.
Staff in frilly pinafores handed out flasks of liquor. Trays of dainty snacks and cakes were offered.
If the Masters wore tweed and hounds circled our feet, it truly would be a medieval hunt.
Instead of muskets and swords, the Masters mingled in modern dress and patrolled with paintball guns. Everything about it was a farce, a mockery but still so fucking…wrong.
“Ah!” Victor stepped onto the open drawbridge. The sun gilded him in sunshine like a demented god. “Here are my sweetlings now, and don’t they look so fine.”
“They’ll look better covered in my paint!” A Master cackled.
“Do you mean paint or cum?” Another winked.
“Both!”
Laughter broke out.
Sweat rolled down my spine.
My eyes raked down the line of slaves, searching, searching…
Ily.
I froze as our gazes locked.
She stood next to Peter with Rachel on the other side of him. Dressed in hideous underwear that didn’t match her gorgeous rich honey skin, the target lines painted on her chest made me see fucking red.
The treasure hunt had almost gotten her raped and me murdered.
That’d been tame compared to this.
A quick little game of hide-and-seek in thunder and lightning, compared to a full day of ‘shoot the mostly-naked slave’.
Peter limped strangely, his eyes overly wide, his chest dripping with sweat. Part of his target mark had run, streaking down his lean belly.
I waited for the sickening rush of jealousy.
The unquenchable desire to grab Ily and lock her by my side.
But whatever emotions existed within me were mysteriously absent. Buried beneath rapidly growing terror that no matter what happened here today…nothing would be the same afterward.
Counting silently, Victor darted his finger in the air, doing a head count of his jewels. When he reached thirty, he clasped his hands and grinned. “It seems we are all assembled! Who wants to hear what’s in store?”
Every Master apart from me shoved up their hand like a teacher’s pet.
Victor chuckled. “So eager.” Shooting me a questioning look, he said, “The rules are simple. You will have an hour before sundown to hunt. When you hear the gong, you must return.” He swept his stare over everyone, jewels included. “Everyone, do I make myself clear?”
His gems all nodded obediently.
“Good.” Slipping his hand into the pocket of his linen shorts, he held up a familiar black device.
Every jewel tensed. Some even dropped to their knees, anticipating a shock.
“No, no, it’s okay.” Victor soothed in a sinister sing-song voice. “Today, you have no need to fear electricity, my pets. See?” Stabbing his thumb into a second button on the remote, he pointed it at each jewel for a few seconds, slowly working his way down the line.
No one convulsed.
No one fried.
Only once he’d finished did he slip the remote back into his pocket and clasp his hands again. “Your collars have been deactivated.”
Instantly, the jewels looked at one another, sensing a trap.
Victor chuckled. “I’m not lying. For today only, your collars are completely useless in making you compliant. You can run, fight, go wherever you please. The invisible fence is shut off and you have my absolute word as a gentleman that you will not get shocked if you get too close to it. In fact.” He side-stepped on the drawbridge, drawing everyone’s attention to the lush landing strip outside. The tail of his private plane could just be seen peeking from the left. “I’ve decided to give you all a sporting chance.”