An hour passed.
A full hour of waltzing down rows upon rows of diamonds while wearing sunglasses indoors. I’d never seen so much wealth in one place and in so many varieties.
There were cloudy, uncut rocks that looked like any old stone. There were brilliantly faceted marquise, cushion, and princess.
Each and every one sent my heart throbbing, because each and every one symbolised just how much wealth the Hawks had and the lengths they would go to protect it.
I snorted. They value rocks more than human life.
My mind skipped back to Jethro and the tablets he’d taken. Were they the reason for his dramatic change? And if so…what could I do to detox him and make him mine again?
The staff smiled as I made my way through the middle of the warehouse. I walked strictly down the centre, not wanting to get too close to the desks and black velvet just in case I was accused of stealing.
I would never do such a thing, but for now, I had no clue what went on inside Jethro’s head. Cut might be biding his time for me to screw up to hurt me. This might be some crazy test.
I dawdled as long as I could, before turning and making my way back toward the office. Looking into the heights of the building, I frowned. The shutters were still in place, no hint of life.
How much longer is he going to be?
“You can touch, you know.”
My attention whipped to the side. A man with a beer gut and goatee motioned me closer. “They’re not poisonous.”
I shook my head, keeping my hands behind my back. “It’s okay. I’m more of a looker than a toucher.”
The man grinned, showing a gold-capped tooth and lines around his mouth. With stubby fingers, he chose a stone from the tray in front of him and placed it on his palm. The brilliant lights highlighted the dull quartz, and despite myself, I drifted closer.
“Give me your hand.”
“No, really—”
“Look, you came with the owner. You wear millions of their diamonds around your neck. I think they’ll let you hold a boring rock like this.”
My hand shot to the collar. The diamonds were warm beneath my touch, humming with vitality—almost as if they recognised their kin.
“When you put it that way.” Taking my sunglasses off, I pushed them on top of my head and hesitantly held out my hand.
“There you go.” He plopped the rock into my palm. I tried to ignore how strange it was to be talking to a half-naked man in a sweltering diamond factory.
When I just stood there, fearing that any moment Kes would arrive with a gun or Cut would chuckle and hurt me, the man shook his head. “Nothing to be scared of.” He pointed at the stone. “Roll it between your fingers, feel the smoothness even though it hasn’t been cut yet.”
I obeyed, stroking the cloudy diamond and feeling the same strange warmth emitting as my necklace. “It feels alive.”
The man nodded. “The heat from the lamps keep them temperate, but it also comes from the diamond itself. There’s an old tale that true diamonds could heat the world. That they hold enough life and love in each stone that we would never be cold again.”
Sadness fell over me. Jethro worked with heat-giving diamonds, yet I’d never known anyone so cold. “If that’s true, I should be forever hot.”
The man chuckled, reaching to stroke my collar. His chair squeaked as his belly dug into the table. “That you should.” His head cocked, eyes feasting on the Weaver Wailer. “I’ve seen those stones before. They’re old…very old.” He frowned, then his face shocked white as he stole the rock from my hand.
My heart raced. “When…when did you see them?”
He pursed his lips, keeping his eyes downcast. “Never mind. Forget I said anything. Go on, carry on looking…there are much prettier rocks a few trays away.”
I touched his knuckles, sickness and dread swimming in my veins. “You saw her, didn’t you?”
He froze. “Saw who?”
I sighed heavily as my mother appeared in my mind. She’d been here. She’d lived through everything I had—a carbon copy of myself. “A woman with shoulder-length black hair, dark eyes, and high cheekbones.” My voice trailed to a whisper. “I’ve been told we look similar…you don’t need to deny it. You saw my mother.”
The man swallowed. “I don’t think I’m allowed to talk about the past, Miss.” His eyes shot upward to the office. “Shit.”
His curse was out of character. I looked up.
My heart fell into my toes.
Jethro.
He stood on the metal staircase, halfway down. One hand on the banister, the other in his trouser pocket. His requisite diamond pin glinted on his lapel looking small compared to the size of some of the stones surrounding us. The lights dazzled, causing his golden eyes to sparkle like the champagne diamonds on the tray before me—just as unique and perfectly cold. Unlike the diamond I’d held, there was nothing flawed about this man.
Apart from his mind, of course.
The more time I spent with him, the more confident I was that Jethro and I were the same in that respect.
I had a physical imbalance. My body hadn’t mastered the art of equilibrium and occasionally malfunctioned. Jethro, on the other hand, had a mental imbalance but in what I hadn’t figured out.
You have a sneaking suspicion, though.
Ever since speaking to Vaughn when we watched one line instead of two appear on the pregnancy test, I’d wondered. Could it be that obvious? Or that surprising?