At His Throat, a Promise (13 page)

“You please me very much,” William said quietly, and the moment was almost like the night before when they"d talked over Harte"s sleeping form.

“I"m glad, Sir,” Ellis said.

William pulled him into his lap, and their breathing matched up as William held him tenderly. This was a softer side to William, something he"d seen in passing—always for Harte—but not something that was really directed toward him. He found he liked being in the arms of the master. He felt safe. It was easy to pretend 104

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there was permanence that didn"t really exist.

“I"ll be taking Harte with me,” William said. He held Ellis"s head against his chest, and Ellis could hear his heartbeat. It felt stronger than his own, more potent and important.

“To get the slave? Will he… ” Ellis trailed off, not certain whether Harte was awake or if he would want Ellis to know what William had said.

But Harte raised himself up on shaky arms and settled beside William. His arm reached out to encircle Ellis, and that elusive permanence teased him again.

“I"ll be okay. Things are different now. And we"re helping someone the way I wish someone had helped me.” William kissed Harte soothingly. There was a look of aged regret on his face. Ellis kissed his chest and wished William knew that Harte was probably glad, in a way, of what had happened because it had brought them together. Or rather that was what he assumed Harte thought—it was the sort of romantic nonsense Harte could spout and make it look genuine.

“When we come home, try not to crowd him, not that I think you would. He"s likely to be a little skittish. He"s been beaten—

badly—and I"m not entirely sure of the state he"ll be in, but I doubt he"ll be able to handle too many people at once. The prosecution is reopening the case of another slave, one who died in the master"s custody, and as a result, this slave was beaten badly.”

“I understand, Sir. Is there anything I can do to get the house ready for him?”

William thought a minute before saying, “Actually, yes. You could choose a room for him. One that"s calming and will help him feel at home. And get together some things for him. Day and night shifts, shower items, things like that.” 105

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“And ask Nell to make some warm bread!” Harte said, and then smiled sheepishly when they turned to look at him. “It always made me feel better.”

Ellis kissed Harte"s lips. Now that he knew the other slave"s story, it was hard not to fall for him a little. He was so strong.

“We should go,” William said, though he made no real effort to move.

Eventually, though, they did leave, and Ellis began the search for the perfect room.

* * *

It had been locked from the outside, so Ellis hadn"t given it another thought. But then he"d been looking in his closet for an extra blanket to put at the foot of the new slave"s bed, when he noticed a door. In the back of his closet.

It seemed a very strange place for a door, so he opened it, only to be confronted with another door. He opened that to see that the other door was the closet door of the
other
room. The room in which he was standing now. It was an exact replica of his own room: all white with cherry wood furniture, only instead of the red bedspread, this one was a rich hunter green.

It looked the ideal place for a scared and hurt slave. And if the slave didn"t want to be alone, there was a secret passage into his own room.

Perfect.

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He put the extra blanket by the bed, stocked the bathroom with necessities, and put the spare sheaths in the bureau. He hoped the slave wasn"t any bigger than him, because the sheaths were formfitting. William might have to buy more.

When the room was set up, Ellis ventured into the kitchen to ask Nell to make some bread in time for when the new slave came home, so he"d enter a house smelling warm and homey. She petted his hair affectionately and set about the chore right away.

Ellis half wanted to return to his own room, but he also wanted to listen to his tapes, and he needed to be able to hear the door open. He wasn"t planning on rushing to it when it opened, but he had to be able to tell the master which room he"d chosen for the new slave.

With his legal pad out, Ellis took meticulous notes and made sure to write down any words and phrases he didn"t understand.

The list was shorter than it usually was; the tapes were really helping.

When the door finally did open, a hush seemed to fall over the house, different from the silence that had settled like a warm blanket. Ellis stood but didn"t immediately approach.

“Ellis?” William called, his voice carrying even though it wasn"t particularly loud.

Ellis was in the foyer in seconds. He halted at the door and walked slowly, not wanting to startle the slave that was holding on to William with both arms and staring at Ellis. Harte stood to the side, looking thoroughly shaken but strong.

“Sir?” Ellis asked as quietly as possible. The slave didn"t look away from Ellis. He was about Ellis"s height and even skinnier. A grey sheath hung off his rack-like form, and both the garment and the body looked like they hadn"t been washed in weeks. He had 107

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shoulder-length, light brown hair and eyes to match. His sculpted cheekbones and pointed chin made him look androgynous if not outright feminine. Under the proper circumstances, he might have been pretty—beautiful, even. At the moment he just looked hungry and tired, right down to his soul.

“It"s all right, we told him about you. Gabriel, this is Ellis.

Ellis, Gabriel.”

Gabriel nodded and Ellis closed the distance. The slave didn"t huddle closer to William, but he didn"t really look welcoming, either. Not really knowing what else to do, Ellis touched the boy"s cheek and pushed his lank hair behind one ear. To his relief, Gabriel seemed to calm at the touch.

“I chose the room next to mine for him,” Ellis whispered, not looking away from Gabriel"s haunted eyes.

“The locked room?” Harte said, and Gabriel jumped at his high voice. Harte looked abashed and his eyes were a little shiny.

“I got in through the door in my closet,” Ellis explained.

Harte looked confused, but William only nodded and led Gabriel up the stairs, half-carrying him. Ellis and Harte followed close behind. Harte looked like he wanted to talk, but Ellis hoped he didn"t; Gabriel seemed uncomfortable with Harte for some reason. But Harte seemed to notice as well, and he kept his mouth closed, not entering when William unlocked the door to the room that would be Gabriel"s and guided the boy inside.

“Just try to get some sleep,” William said, his tone lighter than Ellis had ever heard. “Ellis will be staying with you. Harte will be coming to work with me. All right?”

Gabriel nodded, looking tiny in the huge bed.

“Good boy. Ellis, don"t let him eat too much today, but bring him something. If he wants a bath, go with him. Don"t leave him 108

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alone. Harte and I will be home a little later than usual so I can catch up on what I missed this morning.” Harte waved good-bye from in the hallway, and William kissed him, saying, “Thank you,” but not waiting for a response.

Ellis nodded dumbly as they left. Harte had never gone to work with William before. Slaves weren"t even really supposed to until the last year of service, and even that was rare.

Ellis turned back to Gabriel, who was sitting in the middle of the bed with his knees pulled up, arms around them and head resting on them.

“Was the drive okay?” he asked softly, uncertain of what to do.

“Fine,” Gabriel said in a raspy tone, lower than Ellis had expected.

“I know this must be scary for you. I know it is for me; we"re in sort of the same position. But Sir is a good master, and Harte"s sweet as can be. You"re going to be okay.”

“I"ll have to go back to him,” Gabriel said, and it took Ellis a moment to realise he was talking about his master.

“No, you won"t,” Ellis said with certainty. He didn"t know the details, only what William had told him the day before, but he knew there was no way William would allow that master to take his slave back after what he did. “He"ll find you a new master, like he is with me.”

A complaint had been filed about excessive abuse.
Excessive
.

William said that abuse against slaves was not illegal and even par for the course, but
excessive
abuse meant that it was quite possible the slave wouldn"t make it to twenty. That defeated the purpose of slavery, which was to create strong bonds and willing workers. If the master killed the slave, society lost out on a worker. The complaint had been the driving force behind reopening the case of 109

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the slave who"d died from pneumonia after another
excessive
punishment.

“Did your old master hurt you?” Gabriel asked, loosening the hold on his legs and stretching out a little. Ellis moved forward until he was beside the bed; Gabriel didn"t seem to mind.

“Yeah, but not like you. No, he died. That"s why William took me in. He didn"t have to, but Harte pretty much convinced him to.” Ellis felt like he was talking more than he had since he"d arrived in his new home.

Gabriel had flinched a little at Harte"s name, and Ellis frowned.

“Can I sit?”

Gabriel shrugged and Ellis took that as permission. “How come you don"t like Harte? You don"t even know him.” But Gabriel looked at him with sorrowful eyes, and Ellis wondered.

“Do you?”

“I did.”

“When?”

“I was in the Facility before. Just temporarily while my master was investigated in my first year with him. One of his slaves had died, and they took the rest of us away while they figured out what had happened. It was ruled pneumonia, and no one seemed to care that she"d gotten it because she"d been tied to a tree outside for three days. As long as
he
didn"t kill her, it was okay. That"s the case they reopened.”

Ellis shuddered; Gabriel"s master seemed horrible. “And Harte?”

“He was there when I was there. I didn"t really know him. We all thought we were better than the Facility kids because we
had
a master. Harte was being… used. By the guards, by the other kids.

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No one cared and he didn"t complain, not really. I mean, it was obvious he didn"t
want
any of it, but who could he tell? Everyone did it.”

Ellis"s heart sank. “Did you?”

Gabriel buried his face in his hands. “I knew I"d never have the chance to, you know, fuck anyone. And he didn"t… didn"t seem to really mind. He"d just lie there. And everyone would take him.

And when it was over, he"d shower and go to bed like nothing had happened. He didn"t… he didn"t say stop.”
Because there would have been no point
. But Ellis didn"t need to say it. Gabriel knew.

“And he recognised me as soon as he saw me. I could tell right away. He looks different now. He was like a ghost before. But he"s beautiful, isn"t he?” Gabriel smiled bitterly. “And even though he knew what I"d done to him, he told his master that they had to help.
Told
him, like he had a place, a voice. But he did.” Ellis had been in that uncertain place where you didn"t have a master but you were still a slave. It was scary, that limbo. He could definitely see himself doing crazy things. Forcing himself on a mere child? No, not that. But Gabriel seemed genuinely sorry. “He wouldn"t hold it against you, you know. Harte"s not like that. He wouldn"t know a grudge if it slapped him in the face.”

“You know what was worse than fucking him, though?” Gabriel said as if Ellis hadn"t spoken. “Leaving him there. Just going away with my master after the investigation ended,
knowing
that things were only going to get worse for him until a master picked him up, and even then there was no guarantee it would get better. I thought about him a lot. When my master was punishing me, it felt like… penance.”

Ellis didn"t know what to say. Gabriel was deep into his own 111

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grief at having to face Harte, not to mention whatever trauma had brought him here in the first place.

“Tell him that I"m sorry?” Gabriel whispered pleadingly.

Shaking his head, Ellis said, “That"s not my place. Tell him yourself. Then you"ll know for sure that he forgives you.” Gabriel looked tired and suddenly older than his years. The servitude weighed more heavily on some slaves than others, and Gabriel just didn"t seem fit for the job. But it was almost over for him. He was nineteen. He only had a year left until he could really be free.

“Go ahead and sleep,” Ellis said. He tried to quell the anger at the thought of what Harte had been through. He couldn"t really blame Gabriel. Being a slave was confusing and fucked-up at the best of times. Finally having someone beneath you in rank was a heady feeling. But the guards…

Harte had saved both Ellis and Gabriel from his own fate.

“Will you be here?” Gabriel asked.

“Right here,” he assured.

“You can lay down with me if you want.”

Ellis hesitated but figured the master wouldn"t be angry with him for that.

As he watched Gabriel drift off to sleep, he heard him whisper,

“I"m sorry.”

Ellis only hoped he had the guts to say it to Harte"s face.

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When Ellis awoke in Gabriel"s bed to see Harte standing just beyond the doorjamb, he knew the confrontation between the two slaves had to happen immediately or there would be unbearable tension.

He beckoned Harte in, hoping he knew enough about the other slave"s personality to correctly assume that Harte had no interest in holding a grudge against Gabriel.