At His Throat, a Promise (15 page)

“But it just seemed like no matter how hard I tried, nothing was good enough. I"m not a bad slave. I"m not like Harte, though; I don"t love it. I don"t think it"s right. There must be better ways to teach people. And if there aren"t, there should be protections for slaves that are hurt. What good does it do the slave to give someone total power over them? What good does it do when the slave is beaten and raped and scarred?”

“It"s the master"s right,” Ellis whispered automatically.

“So the only way to get a good job is to submit to a person who could potentially be a maniac for four years and there"s no protection for us? Doesn"t that strike you as a little… insane?” But… that was the way it was. The way it had been for…

always
.

“What do you want me to say?” Ellis asked, unaccountably 122

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annoyed at the conversation. The system usually worked. It had to; why else would it be maintained? Gabriel was just unlucky… and Harte, too. And himself, with his master dying. Those things didn"t happen to
every
slave.

Some slaves were taken care of. Like Harte was now.

He shook his head. Complaining about it wouldn"t help.

Gabriel sighed and turned onto has back. “I don"t even know why I"m saying this. I"ve never told anyone I felt that way; it was always too dangerous. No loyalty among slaves.” He laughed bitterly and turned away from Ellis, but Ellis didn"t let him escape and pressed against his back—slowly, to let the other slave get used to the sensation.

“You have my loyalty,” Ellis said quietly. He kissed Gabriel"s bony shoulder. “I might not be able to help, but I"ll listen.

Always.”

Gabriel sighed and turned again, facing Ellis. “They"d be lucky to have you,” he said quietly.

Ellis closed his eyes. He didn"t want to think about that.

“Don"t.”

Gabriel"s thumb brushed his lip. “You"re so beautiful. I know you think Harte is… I don"t know, better than you? Because of the way he looks. But you"re beautiful, too.” And then Gabriel kissed him.

Ellis meant to pull away. He meant to push Gabriel away. He just meant to stop it. But somehow, he didn"t. Gabriel was warm and inviting, and he thought Ellis was beautiful and deserved a master like William. He felt Gabriel"s tongue touch his lips, and he made himself break the kiss.

“I"m not supposed to,” he said sorrowfully.

Gabriel looked pained. “I"m sorry, I-I should have known that.

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My master never lets his slaves kiss each other.” Ellis pulled farther back, away from temptation. “It isn"t that.

He doesn"t want us to kiss when he"s not there to watch. He even extended the rule to you.”

Ellis suddenly knew how Harte had felt when Ellis had kissed him. Ellis didn"t want to get Gabriel in trouble, but he had to tell the master what had happened.

Gabriel must have seen it in his face because he cringed and said, “Please, don"t tell him.”

“I have to. I can"t lie to him, Gabriel. He won"t be mad at you, I swear. I kissed Harte and he didn"t get upset with me. You didn"t know the rule. I"ll be in trouble, not you.”

“I can"t let you get yourself in trouble!”

“It"s okay. It won"t be that bad. Please don"t worry.” Ellis stroked a finger down Gabriel"s arm but didn"t trust himself to kiss him on the cheek. “I should go.”

“I"m sorry,” Gabriel whispered, staring at the spot on the bed where Ellis had been.

“It isn"t your fault. Just try to get some sleep.” As Ellis left, Harte came in with a glass of warm milk, but Gabriel didn"t want it. Harte drank it instead, watching Ellis carefully as they went to sit outside for a few minutes before the master came home.

“What happened?” Harte asked seriously.

Ellis had to tell the master first. “It"s okay. I just need to talk to Sir a bit when he comes home, all right?”

“Of course.” Harte reached out and took his hand. They both sat by the pool and let the water dance around their legs.

“Whatever it is… he won"t send you away.”

“You have no way of knowing that.”

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“No, but he threatened me with it once, a long time ago, but no matter how bad I was—and sometimes I was really bad, at first—

he never even mentioned it, especially not when I was scared. He doesn"t believe in the Facility, I don"t think. That"s why he went to get Gabriel.”

Maybe, but what Harte called
bad,
Ellis would probably call
normal
. And the master had gotten Gabriel because it was his case.

There was absolutely no reason for the master to forgive his mistake. He hadn"t made himself indispensable like Harte.

By the time the master finally came home, Ellis was a mess.

His stomach was cramped and sore, he felt nauseous, and his forehead hurt from creasing so much.

Harte and Ellis ran to the front door and knelt to greet him. His fingers brushed Harte"s cheek, then Ellis"s. Harte took the briefcase that William held out and took it into the dining room where they would have a lesson later.

“How is he?” William asked Ellis quietly, looking up the stairs.

“He"s resting now, Sir,” Ellis said. He bit his lip. Best just to say it, he knew, but he"d never invited punishment before. He"d always just waited to be discovered because there was the chance his mistake wouldn"t be noted.

But even though there was no way for William to find out about the kiss—Ellis didn"t think Gabriel would ever tell—he wanted to be a good slave. He wanted to tell the truth. And he was
wrong
. He"d broken a rule.

He
should
be punished.

“Sir, I need to speak with you,” Ellis said, voice barely more than a whisper.

William seemed to take stock of him. “Do you want to go to your bedroom to talk?”

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Ellis knew the master was offering him protection by suggesting his safe place. But it would be redundant; they"d just have to go somewhere else to discuss punishment. “No, Sir.”

“Come with me, then.”

Ellis followed William as he walked with purpose to the study.

He sat behind his desk and folded his hands together on top of it.

Ellis moved to kneel beside him, but William grabbed his arms and put him on his lap. Sitting stiffly, Ellis fought the instinctual urge to slide back down to the floor. If this was where the master wanted him, this was where he would stay.

“Now, what is it you need to talk about?” His voice was soft but stern.

Forcing himself to look into the master"s eyes—so dark they were almost black, but the warmth was there around the edges and Ellis knew they were brown—Ellis said, “Punishment, Sir.”

“Oh? And who am I to punish?”

“Me, Sir.”

“Before we get to that, how about a kiss? See, I"ve had a long, difficult day, and I"d like nothing more than a kiss from my slave.” Ellis wanted to protest and suggest that Harte was what the master must really want, but that wasn"t his place. “Anything you want, Sir,” he said honestly.

William cupped his cheek and leaned in to kiss him. Ellis tried not to think about kissing—that was what he was to be punished for, after all—and just let the master use his mouth.

“Ellis, I know you"re scared, but it"s all right. Whatever it is won"t make me not want to kiss you.”

Feeling reassured but doubly guilty, Ellis fought to kiss the master to his satisfaction. When William made a little noise of approval, Ellis melted into the embrace. As long as they were 126

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

kissing, Ellis wasn"t confessing.

When William pulled away, Ellis tried to follow, to entice him back, but William stopped him with a gentle squeeze on his arm.

“Do you feel better about telling me now?” Ellis shook his head miserably, which made William chuckle.

“Go ahead,” the master said, his hand warm on Ellis"s arm.

“Gabriel kissed me, Sir, and I didn"t stop him. I kissed him back a little, too.”

Ellis didn"t cringe when William"s soothing grip turned painful or even when his face became closed off.

“I told you that the rules applied to him. You remember the rules, don"t you?”

“No kissing except in front of or with you, Sir,” Ellis whispered, his throat scratchy.

“Then you deliberately and knowingly broke the rule?”

“I… I didn"t mean to, Sir… but yes, I did. Deliberately and knowingly but
not
to hurt you.” Ellis closed his eyes; of course William wasn"t
hurt
by Ellis kissing someone else. He just didn"t like rules to be broken. He must think Ellis so stupid to break the same rule twice. Although the first time he hadn"t known about it, but he
should
have—a good slave anticipates the master"s rules and preferences.

“Thank you for telling me,” William said, his familiar control back in place. “Go help Harte set up for the lesson.” Ellis stood hastily and backed away. “My punishment, Sir?”

“Has begun.”

“Oh,” he said in a small voice.

William looked at him icily. “Did you not understand my request to help Harte?”

“I"m so sorry, Sir. I"ll go right now.” But he didn"t. “Are you 127

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

going to—”

“Go!” William shouted, and Ellis fairly ran from the room. He stopped in the hallway bathroom to collect himself and heard William"s study door slam shut and then William storm by.

Straining his ears, he knew William had gone upstairs and not to the dining room.

He was going to talk to Gabriel.

It’s okay,
he told him sternly. When Harte had told William about their kiss, Ellis hadn"t been punished. In fact, it had brought about his first kiss with the master. The master surely wouldn"t punish Gabriel.

Would he kiss him?

Knowing he had absolutely no right to the painful squirm in his stomach at the thought, Ellis splashed water on his face and wondered about his punishment. He couldn"t leave the bathroom for a few moments, but eventually he forced himself to open the door.

When he met Harte in the dining room, Harte greeted him with a smile. “All sorted, then?” he asked brightly.

“I"m being punished,” Ellis said in a tight voice.

“For what?” Harte asked, sounding aghast.

“For disobeying me,” William said, entering the room with long strides. “Harte, he"s getting the second punishment. Am I understood?”

Harte"s face dropped and he clenched his fists, making Ellis"s heart sink. If Harte hated it, it had to be bad.

“And that means you, too,” William said cryptically.

“Yes, Master,” Harte whispered, seeming to fall into his chair.

Ellis stood a moment longer, trembling with not knowing what was happening and the fear that he couldn"t handle it.

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“Sit, slave,” William snapped.

“I"m sorry, Sir,” Ellis said quickly, sitting.

The lesson went on interminably. Ellis was certain it would never end. Harte seemed to be falling apart, which made Ellis all the more nervous. He wouldn"t speak to or even look at Ellis.

William lectured them almost the entire time, stopping only to answer Harte"s subdued questions. Ellis didn"t ask any.

Dinner was more of the same. Ellis hadn"t expected to be able to eat; missing out on meals was the punishment of choice for many masters. But his plate was filled as usual, and he ate as much as possible, somehow knowing he"d need the strength.

He tried to remember what William had said about punishment—that it would be the lash until he knew what would really keep him in line. Had William figured that out already? Had he given something vital away?

William retired to his study for the evening and Harte went up to bed early, so Ellis had no choice, really, but to go to bed himself. He hesitated outside Harte"s door—he knew the other slave could tell him what was going on, what to expect. But if William didn"t want him to know, then he shouldn"t know.

He also paused outside of Gabriel"s door. His nap had probably been more than long enough. He might be up at some ungodly hour because he couldn"t get back to sleep. But Ellis didn"t go in to wake him. He knew that would be the worst thing he could do.

He just went into his room and tried not to cry. Somehow his bedroom didn"t feel all that safe anymore.

* * *

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

punishment for dallying in the morning.

But it wasn"t morning.

He looked around the still-dark room and tried to figure out what had woken him up, but there was nothing. There was enough light to reveal that no one was in the room, and there were no noises in the house, so he got back under the covers to go back to sleep.

Just as he was drifting off, he heard what must have interrupted his sleep. It sounded like crying, but it was more frantic. It seemed to be coming from Gabriel"s room.

Ellis slipped from the bed and went into the closet, pressing his ear against the shared door.

Gabriel was definitely making crying noises. A nightmare?

But when he went to open the door so he could calm the other slave—hopefully without him ever knowing Ellis had been there—

it was locked.

Ellis wasted time staring at the knob. Had Gabriel locked it?

But that didn"t make sense because all the locks in the house were the type that needed a key, even the bathrooms. As a result, none of the doors were ever locked because it was so inconvenient.

The hallway was pitch black so he turned on his bedroom light and left the door open to see. When he tried Gabriel"s main door, it was locked, too. The sounds from within were getting louder.

He would have to tell the master.

The very thought made his stomach roil. Harte. He could tell Harte to tell the master, and William wouldn"t look at him with those cool eyes.

But Harte"s door was locked as well. Ellis almost fell to his knees in frustration and confusion. In all the time he"d been with them, Harte"s door had
never
been locked. He was always 130