At His Throat, a Promise (9 page)

The tears on his cheeks were almost unfamiliar in their rarity as Ellis thought about what he was missing. The master had said he"d been pleasing.

What had he done?

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

The next day, Ellis was the first person up. He silently helped Nell with breakfast, not knowing what else to do with himself.

When the table was set and the food prepared, Nell asked him to wake the master up, but Ellis couldn"t do it. He just couldn"t see them all together, happily entangled and not missing him for a moment, though why they would, he had no idea.

He begged off and said the master had given him other instructions. Nell almost certainly knew he was lying, but she didn"t call him back, yelling for Janine instead.

He went to the hallway bathroom to make it look like he was off doing a chore, and, once sequestered, splashed cold water on his face to cool it.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Voices broke through the sound of the water, and Ellis turned the tap off to better hear. It was Harte and Alastair.

“… said he was looking for a master for him!”

“Yeah, but not
yours
! And if you were worried, you should have said something. You didn"t have to hurt him!”

“Oh, don"t be so dramatic. I couldn"t have hurt him, he"s a
slave.
”

“Shut up, Alastair! Slaves can be hurt, trust me,
I
know that!” Alastair"s voice was immediately contrite. “I know, Harte. I shouldn"t have jumped to conclusions, okay? But I"m not apologising! I just did what I was told.”

“Just back off him, all right? We"ll find the
perfect
master for him, and that wouldn"t be Master Alex. Ellis isn"t even close to his type and you
know
that. You"re stupidly jealous and you"re lucky it didn"t get you into more trouble. If I think you"re hurting Ellis in any way, you"ll have me to deal with, and you know I have no problem telling Master how I feel. And you know he listens.” So at least Ellis wasn"t the only one Harte ratted on, not that he held it against the other slave. Harte didn"t seem embarrassed by this habit, and it was likely that the master encouraged it. Or at least didn"t discourage it, which seemed to be the same thing to Harte.

Heavy feet walked away and a moment later, there was a knock on the bathroom door.

He opened it quickly, lowering his eyes when he saw it was Harte.

“Breakfast is ready!” he announced cheerfully, giving no indication of a suspicion that Ellis had heard the conversation.

“And I talked to Alastair. He thought Master Alex wanted you.

Stupid boy.”

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

Ellis could only smile gratefully. Harte had absolutely no concept of
secret
. Maybe he wasn"t really a rat—maybe he just told everyone everything.

“Does Master Alex want me?” Ellis asked nervously. The other master was nice enough, but he very much did
not
want to go anywhere Alastair was.

“I don"t think so. He"s not interested in another slave.” Harte took Ellis"s hand and began to walk him to the dining room. “It"s funny because Master Alex used to have ten slaves, back when he first got Alastair. Ten! And then they slowly turned of age and left and he never got any new ones to replace them until only Alastair was left, and he"s nineteen. I have no idea what he"ll do once Alastair"s gone. He might not ever get another.” Ellis took all this in without a word, and when they got to the dining room, he knelt by William along with Harte and waited to be permitted to sit. Once the touch was given, Ellis sat beside Harte and across from Alastair with Master Alex at the foot of the table.

Even knowing what had made the other slave act so reprehensibly toward him didn"t make Ellis any more inclined to be nice to him. A slave should never be so attached that it encroaches on proper behaviour. If he"d acted like that with his last master, who"d had many slaves come and go all the time, he would have been one of the ones going, and quick.

“We won"t be staying much longer,” Master Alex was saying.

Ellis tried not to look at the sated expression on his face. He didn"t need reminding that they"d all spent the night together—without him.

“I hope you don"t plan on wasting the weekend with work,” William said, putting food on his plate and gesturing for his slaves 72

AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

to do the same. Ellis only grabbed a couple slices of toast.

“Actually, my old master is coming for a visit.” Ellis looked up in interest. Master Alex looked excited, but Alastair seemed nervous, and rightly so. Master Alex"s old master would surely judge and compare the two, probably to Alastair"s detriment because he was so headstrong.

“How long has it been since you"ve seen Pearce, anyway?” William asked. He frowned at Ellis"s plate and reached across Harte to heap some bacon and scrambled eggs onto it while Ellis watched in dismay. He knew what happened to slaves who didn"t eat what was on their plates, but his stomach already felt full with nerves.

“A few years, anyway. Can you believe he"s still taking slaves?”

Ellis tried to picture William as a slave. Because slaves were apprentices, after their four years of enslavement, they were fully trained and competent to enter the work force. Most current masters were former slaves. But then he remembered Harte saying William was from Menson, and they didn"t abide slavery there. It showed in their crime and unemployment rate, too. No wonder the master had come to Spire.

As the masters talked, Ellis forced himself to eat as much as possible. The scrambled eggs made his mouth dry and he could barely force them down. He had to wait for the master to fill his water glass twice, and that just wasn"t acceptable.

Finally, he could eat no more. There were a couple scoops of eggs and a piece of bacon left, but he knew if he tried, he would vomit. He hoped that he looked pathetic enough to stave off any sort of punishment, but the image of William with his hand on Harte"s throat was fresh in his mind.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

His heart dropped when the master said, “Ellis, go up to your room. Harte, go with him.”

Ellis felt clammy all over as he walked as quickly as possible up the stairs to his room, Harte at his heels. He went straight into the adjoined bathroom and closed the door to Harte, hoping that even without a lock the other slave would stay out. For once, Harte didn"t push.

“Are you okay, Ellis?” Harte asked softly through the door.

With his hands braced on the sink, Ellis asked himself the same question. Why was he so upset? The master had more than enough reason to want Harte in his bed and not Ellis. And of course he would want his old friend there, and his friend"s slave. They had likely done that a hundred times; he had no right to want that for himself.

Looking into the mirror, Ellis tried to view himself objectively.

His features were a little angular, a little sharp. His high cheekbones gave him a kind of snooty look, but his full lips and wide eyes diminished that effect. He noticed that under his eyes were two purple smudges. He really did look ill.

“I"m fine,” he said hoarsely.

He could hear Harte shuffling outside the door and then his hand on the doorknob. But he didn"t turn it.

Standing up straight, Ellis slid the old mask in place. He could get through this. This wasn"t his home. It was like a hotel, people came and went and he was no more important than the last.

William was very kind to let him in and try to find a master for him, and Harte was sweet to stick up for him and help him, but they weren"t his
friends
.

And he"d do well to remember that before he let them hurt him.

Opening the door, he passed Harte and lay down on the bed.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

“Is everything all right?” Harte asked, sitting tentatively on the side of the bed.

“Just feeling a little under the weather,” Ellis said, turning onto his side and away from Harte.

“Oh, okay.”

Ellis thought the other slave would leave, but he just got onto the bed and stretched out behind Ellis, a slender arm curving over his waist. Ellis furrowed his brow and tried not to think of how the gesture seemed so natural to Harte. Giving and receiving affection should never be so easy for a slave. It was a complication.

“Master was worried about you last night,” Harte whispered, snuggling closer. “I was, too.”

“Why? I was perfectly fine.”

Ellis felt Harte shrug. “You didn"t seem fine. And Master was really mad at Alastair for the way he treated you. He thought that you… you know, liked it. But then he said he talked to you and you didn"t… ”

Letting his silence answer for him, Ellis wondered exactly what Harte was getting at. What did it
matter
whether he liked it or not?

He"d done what the master had said to do, and then he was punished for it by not being allowed to be with them the night before.

“I wanted to stay with you last night, but Master said that Master Alex had invited us to his bed. And when I came to get you, Master stopped me because he said you wouldn"t want to be near Alastair that way again.”

It doesn’t matter
, Ellis told himself. Even if that was the reason he"d been left alone, his previous decision still stood. He was getting too attached to a fleeting thing. That never boded well, and especially not for a slave.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

“It is not my place to decide whether I want to be around someone or not,” Ellis said stiffly.

“Maybe, but it"s Master"s place, and he made the decision for you. I also think he"s a little angry at himself.” Unable to help himself, Ellis asked, “Why?” After a frustratingly long pause, Harte finally said, “I think—

and he didn"t say this, but I know him well enough to think I"m right—I think that he liked seeing you get roughed up a little. He likes it rough, you know. So that"s why he didn"t tell Alastair to back off when it was kind of obvious he was being too forceful.

And I heard him tell Master Alex you were
fragile
—I wanted to tell them that you weren"t, not by half—and so I think he was worried about hurting you, and letting Alastair do it took some of the onus off of him. Remember what onus is?” Ellis nodded dumbly. Harte might seem a little thoughtless at times, but he had a pretty good grasp on master-slave relations.

Ellis hated that the master thought him
fragile.
He rather thought he was quite strong.

He would just have to prove himself.

Harte started tugging at the hem of Ellis"s sheath, and when it was bunched around his hips, he put his hand flat on Ellis"s belly, rubbing in small, smooth circles. “Does that feel okay?” he asked gently.

“Feels good,” he said truthfully. He wasn"t sure if it was Harte"s words or his actions, but the tight knot of bitter disappointment loosened just a little.

Harte turned him onto his back, and Ellis went willingly. He shouldn"t be upset at Harte for doing the best he could. Different slaves adapted differently, he"d seen a hundred different coping strategies since his servitude had begun.

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

The circles grew larger and Harte"s hand caressed and soothed his stomach, but it never turned into a more intimate touch, and he was glad for that. Harte just kissed him softly on his cheek, told him he was beautiful, and eventually, Ellis fell asleep.

* * *

Feigning sleep—something he"d learned to do in his first few weeks as a slave in order to give himself more time to adapt—Ellis listened as William approached the bed and gently shook Harte awake. Ellis felt that cold feeling return; William wanted Harte in
his
bed, not Ellis"s.

“Wha… ?” Harte murmured, smacking his lips.

Ellis could tell the exact moment when Harte realised it was his master waking him, because he sat up straight and said, “Do you need me?”

“No, Harte. How is he?”

There was a silence during which Ellis was sure they were looking at him. He breathed as evenly as possible.

“I think he"s okay now. He didn"t say anything, but I think he wanted to be with us last night.”

The master sighed reproachfully. “Harte, you know you don"t have to
know
everything.”

“I like to know, Master.”

“I know you do, but you also don"t have to
tell
everything.” Harte"s voice changed in an instant. “Please, Master, please don"t make me keep secrets.”

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AT HIS THROAT, A PROMISE

There was a rustle and Ellis wondered if William was touching Harte reassuringly.

“You know I won"t, but these things aren"t really secrets. No one will get hurt if you keep some things to yourself.”

“I"m sorry, I-I can"t. If you need to punish me—”

“Stop that,” William whispered harshly. The bed jerked a little as if Harte had frozen. “I told you that I wouldn"t punish you for that, all right? I"m just trying to give Ellis a little privacy. Speaking of which, I"d like to be with him now, so you need to go to your bed, or better yet, get some studying done.” Ellis heard a soft kiss and a moment later, the door opening and closing. Nothing happened for some time, and Ellis had to wonder if William had left as well. But then the bed dipped a little and William was at his back. Again there was nothing until a single finger ran from the back of his neck to just above his tailbone.

“Ellis,” William said, his hand moving to give his shoulder a gentle shake.

Pretending to startle awake, Ellis turned to face William. “Yes, Sir?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Much better, Sir.”

“I"m glad. And are you… sore, from yesterday?”

“Um, no, Sir.”

“Because I"d like to use you now.”

Ellis shivered a little at the matter-of-fact tone, but he just nodded and slipped his sheath off, baring himself. William watched him and then began to unbutton his shirt, but Ellis stopped him and took over, chewing his lower lip nervously at his boldness. But William looked approving, and Ellis continued.