At His Throat, a Promise (54 page)
Read At His Throat, a Promise Online
Authors: Lilith Grey
It could have been him.
Very easily, too. Without William, Ellis might have met the same fate. The things Jude had done to him, the way he"d just separated from himself… Who could say that he wouldn"t have tried to end it eventually?
Why had William brought him back and not Gabriel? What was better or more special about Ellis? The truth was, there was nothing. There was absolutely no reason that his life should have been deemed more worthy than Gabriel"s. It was pure luck that had 466
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saved Ellis. He didn"t like thinking that Jude dying had been simple luck, but what else could it have been? There was no other way he could have made it out of there. Fen might have been strong enough to survive through four years of that hell, but Ellis wasn"t, and neither was Caleb, who had been facing six years.
Was there no rhyme or reason to these things? Was it just…
Gabriel"s time? Ellis couldn"t believe that. He hated that he couldn"t explain why one slave was gone and he was still there. It wasn"t fair. And yet… he wouldn"t trade places. Maybe that made him greedy and selfish, but he was glad that he hadn"t died, hadn"t slipped under. Gabriel was gone and there was no bringing him back—all Ellis could do now was try to make Harte realise that it wasn"t his fault, and that William had done everything he"d known how and so it wasn"t the master"s fault, either. It was no one"s fault.
It was just one of those things. One of those things where neglect and abuse made a perfectly healthy slave with the potential for happiness kill himself.
The house was so silent with the weight of the news. Harte was upstairs, alone, undoubtedly devastated, and Ellis tried to get himself together enough to go see him. But as much as he wanted to be helpful, he didn"t feel like he"d be able to offer any solace. If anything, his presence might be a painful reminder. He was the saved slave. Harte would be right to wonder why. Ellis certainly did.
He couldn"t stay away for long , though, and eventually made his way up the stairs to knock on Harte"s door. There was no response, but Ellis didn"t let that dissuade him. He opened the door and stepped inside, seeing Harte in his bed beneath the covers.
Perching on the edge of the bed, Ellis didn"t touch him. “Want 467
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company?”
Harte"s face was pale as it peeked from beneath the blankets.
He nodded, red-rimmed eyes empty and glittering.
Ellis pulled back the covers and got beneath them. It was strangely warm next to Harte, as if his grief had manifested itself as a physical thing.
“I"m not really angry at Master,” Harte whispered after a few moments of silence. “I know it"s not his fault. He couldn"t have known any more than we could have. I just… I don"t know.”
“You just wanted him to do something because he"s the only one with any power around here,” Ellis supplied.
Looking a little surprised, Harte nodded. “It"s not that I think he can save the world, I just think… ”
“That he should be able to.”
Harte sighed and rolled onto his back. His cheeks were puffy and stained with salt, but he didn"t look as hopeless as he had.
“You probably think I"m so stupid.”
“Of course not. I wish Master had been able to do something as well.”
“How"d you get to hide your feelings so well?” Harte asked, turning his head to look at Ellis.
“Practise,” he said wryly, avoiding the question.
“From one of those families that knew they"d be sending you away from the minute you showed you were smart enough to be considered?”
“You guessed it.” Ellis hated talking about his family. He"d never been close to them, and he didn"t miss them except in rare shows of homesickness. Even then, he missed the idea more than the real thing—he knew it wouldn"t be the same as what he selectively remembered.
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“Did they tell you?”
“Yeah, I knew.”
“Why didn"t you… I don"t know, act dumb to get out of it?” Ellis chuckled softly. “Well, I was too young to know what it really meant in the first place. My parents told me about a stranger who would take me away and teach me all sorts of things and when I was ready, I"d be a professional, a doctor or an engineer.
And all I had to do was let my master or mistress love me. I didn"t know that what they meant by love was something completely different than what I"d wanted.”
What I still want
, he added mentally.
“If you had known, I mean about Master Jude and your previous master, would you have tried to get out of it?” Feeling bold and too honest for his own good, Ellis told the truth. “No. Because as strange and unappealing as my old master was, my time with him brought me to you and Master. And with Master Jude, it wasn"t really all that bad. I wasn"t really…
there
for a lot of it, you know?”
Harte nodded darkly and Ellis knew he was understood. Harte"s master before William had been almost as bad as Jude—maybe worse.
“And after him, I was brought back to you again,” Ellis continued. “So no, I wouldn"t take it back. I"d do it again.”
“Me, too,” Harte whispered, his eyes unfocused. “Even… yeah.
Me, too.”
* * *
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watched as William spanked Harte for almost half an hour. He wasn"t sure who it was supposed to punish, but both were obviously affected by it. Ellis only watched.
The rest of the week was more of the same. William would come home alternately frustrated or sullen, and neither Harte nor Ellis could coax him out of it. He didn"t ignore them, but he also didn"t give them the attention they"d become accustomed to.
Ellis knew the mood had something to do with Gabriel and his master, Richard Develyn. This suspicion was cemented by the fact that their lessons revolved almost completely around slave law.
* * *
Staring at his food-filled plate, William did not acknowledge his slaves. His hands were clenched into fists on the table, and his eyes were cast in shadow, making him look dangerous and dark.
Sensing Harte was gearing up to say something, Ellis touched his knee lightly as a warning. The master wanted them on their knees for a reason; he hadn"t forgotten them. William glanced down at the movement, his eyes focusing on Ellis"s finger grazing Harte"s leg for a moment before William turned back to his food and began to eat perfunctorily.
Harte"s face bore the expression of a beaten puppy—he wasn"t used to being ignored and neither was Ellis, though he felt better 470
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equipped to deal with it. Their job was to take care of William, and they couldn"t do that if they demanded to be taken care of themselves. Ellis was confident the master would let them know what he needed.
As Ellis had predicted, once William"s plate was empty, he stood. “To my bedroom, both of you.” His voice was tired and strained.
Ellis rose quickly, though his knees and back made their discomfort known. Harte cast a longing glance at his still-full plate before following Ellis out of the room.
“What do you think that was about?” Harte asked once they were out of hearing distance of the master.
“Master needs us,” Ellis said simply. He hoped that whatever was needed he"d be able to provide. There had been times with Jude that, after a long, hard day for the master, Ellis just hadn"t been able to keep up with the demands, the precision, the perfection.
But William had never demanded that from him before. Ellis was good enough without being perfect.
They ascended the stairs quickly, both eager and anxious to serve. Harte had that buzzing excitement about him, his eyes bright but his hands trembling a little as he fingered the hem of his shift.
Ellis preceded him into the room—it always looked so much smaller when William wasn"t there.
“Should we undress?” Harte asked.
Ellis considered. William was usually more specific in his commands. “No,” he said, erring on the side of caution. “Better not be presumptuous. Let"s just kneel by the bed.” They did. And waited.
“Master seems really upset about something. I can"t remember 471
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the last time he didn"t let me eat.”
Ellis didn"t answer, only arranged his clothing and smoothed down his hair. It was getting so long and William didn"t like it when it got into his eyes.
When William entered the room, it was amid a flurry of near-electrical tension. He held himself stiffly, seeming awkward in his own flesh. The nod of approval he gave Ellis and Harte made Ellis relax somewhat.
This is Master
, he reminded himself. There would be no punishment without crime.
William arranged himself on the bed against the headboard.
Ellis could only see him from the corner of his eye, but the rigidity was still there in his body and all around them.
“Come here,” he said a few moments later.
Ellis and Harte rose as one and crawled onto the bed, Harte on the master"s left, Ellis on the right. Harte was bold enough to press a kiss to William"s shoulder, but Ellis didn"t take any such liberties. He suspected what was desired of him was perfect submission.
“Ellis, kiss me.”
Leaning over, Ellis placed his lips against William"s, smoothing over them, trying to coax the hardness away. Something was obviously bothering William. After a few long moments during which there was nothing but kisses, Ellis tentatively touched his tongue against William"s lips. It wasn"t something he did often; William was usually only too happy to take the initiative, and Ellis never needed to. Only when he was told did he act more aggressive with William, and even then it was an order, not something he desired.
William"s lips parted under his, and Ellis almost drew back in surprise. Did William want him to… ? Without agonising over it, 472
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Ellis pushed his tongue inside William"s mouth. It occurred to him how seldom he"d done something like that. The master tasted like the dinner Ellis hadn"t gotten to enjoy, but that wasn"t why the kiss set Ellis aflame so quickly. It was being encouraged to be dominant, something he"d only ever been with Harte.
Despite the fact that Ellis was guiding the kiss, there was nothing really submissive about William. He was always in control—a sharp word from him would send Ellis facedown on the bed in supplication.
Finally, William"s hand slipped over his side and up his back to cup the back of his neck. The kiss changed and Ellis was no longer in control. He opened his eyes briefly to see what Harte was doing and was startled to see William"s eyes open as well.
“Are you all right?” William asked, breath hot against Ellis"s lip.
Ellis nodded slowly, feeling dazed. “Yes, Master.”
“Good.”
The kiss began again and before Ellis"s eyes slipped closed he saw Harte watching them, his hands tucked between his knees as if he couldn"t trust himself not to touch.
As the kiss went on, William"s dominance faltered and faded until Ellis was guiding it. Not that he minded, not at all—but it seemed William did.
With a sigh, the master sat against the headboard without opening his eyes.
Pressing his numb lips together, Ellis held still and waited for further instruction, knowing Harte was doing the same.
“Ellis, just… kiss Harte.”
Frowning but quick to obey, Ellis leaned over William and pulled Harte into a kiss. As always, Harte folded into it, his head 473
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tipping back, his mouth opening and accepting. His submission was so flawless.
“Down at the bottom of the bed,” William clarified.
Harte scrambled down to the foot of the bed and waited for Ellis to follow. Ellis wanted to say something to William, to ask him if everything was okay, even though it obviously wasn"t. But William didn"t give him any sort of opening—he was as unapproachable as he"d been the very first time they"d met. Ellis crawled down the bed and met Harte, who smiled and let himself be kissed.
What does he want?
Ellis asked himself, ruling the kiss with Harte as his mind tried to riddle out what the master needed.
William had tried to be strong during their kiss, had tried to be forceful as usual, but he"d failed. Did William want Ellis to be in control because he couldn"t, for whatever reason?
Channelling William"s dominating personality, Ellis took a deep breath and held the back of Harte"s neck as William had done to him. He pressed forward, crushing Harte"s lips with his, biting and sucking and changing the rhythm too quickly for Harte to keep up, so all the smaller slave could do was open his mouth and accept the assault. The master made an approving noise, and Ellis continued.
He pushed Harte onto his back with a hand on his chest, holding him down—the action was symbolic more than necessary, because Harte would never struggle under domination from anyone he cared about.
A look to William told Ellis he was doing the right thing. Like an actor on a stage, Ellis positioned himself so William could clearly see everything he was doing. His hand smoothed over Harte"s shift, tugging at the hem as Ellis looked at William. It was 474
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a very bold hint for a slave to make, but if William didn"t have the energy to dominate, Ellis would do it for him.
“Harte, take off your shift,” William said.
Harte tried to sit up but Ellis didn"t let him, his hand flat and firm on his chest. Harte looked confused but he needed to obey, so he began to slither and worm out of his shift, yanking and twisting until it bunched around Ellis"s hand.