Chapter 2
“One of your flock told me she was an addict when you found her, Master, and said you held her prisoner for six months before you gave her the option to stay or go. Is that what you intend to do with Holly?”
“It is.”
“Then we do what we can for her, Master.”
You know I can speak to you like this, yes?
I froze at the sound of his voice in my head, but tried not to react with fear. He’s a powerful Strigorii. Of course I’d known.
I do, Master.
Feel free to take the initiative with Holly when we go in. If I need you to do something, or to back off, I’ll speak with you this way. I’d like Holly to see you as safe, and me as a bit of a mystery for now.
“As you wish, Master.”
He’d watched her a few more seconds, her head completely in the refrigerator, her body sprawled on the floor.
“Let’s go, then.”
I’d hated reassuring newly captured humans before, but this was different. I could take care of her knowing she wasn’t destined to a life of hell. If she kept up with the drugs, she was, but it’d be her decision. Abbott was giving her another chance, and I got to help facilitate the chance.
She let me help her up off the floor, but she pushed me away once we were in the hallway and she’d found her balance.
“You never told me where I am.”
“You’re in my home,” Abbott told her. He motioned us into a small dining room with the table set for two, though six could sit around it. “Let’s sit so you and Spencer can eat.”
I would be honored to nourish you, Master.
Master Abbott had bitten me and had me drink from him every day for nearly a week, but it’d only been to form and ensure the blood bond.
He’d never taken more than a few sips. However, those days had made me want to feed him.
I wanted his hands on my body, his lips at my neck.
And more. I knew the blood bond made me want him, but I didn’t care. I wanted him.
I wanted to serve him. I wanted to please him. I wanted it to be my blood coursing through his body.
Your feelings aren’t from the bond, Spencer. We’ll speak more of it later.
“As you wish, my Master.”
Holly had been wary, but now I smelled fear rolling off her in waves.
“That master stuff is danged creepy.” Her country accent was so thick I had to run the sentence through my head twice to understand her.
Master and danged were both said with a long a, and no one spoke like that in Maryland.
I’m not sure the vowel she used in creepy is even in the English language.
The dining room was decked out as if for a fancy dinner party. Or, breakfast party. Fine china, heavy crystal drinkware, cloth napkins, and candles instead of electricity.
“Whoa. Fancy.” Again, I had to translate FAIN-see in my head to fancy.
Abbott lifted the domes from both our plates, set them on a side table, and motioned for us to sit.
“Holly, you have the toast and eggs, should you change your mind. If not, the smoothie you requested should arrive shortly.” He lifted the domes from several serving dishes in the center of the table. “Spencer, feel free to load your plate.”
Someone had put a half-dozen fried eggs and at least a pound of bacon on my plate. The serving dishes held biscuits, sausage gravy, and fried potatoes. An assortment of jams was in a little metal stand.
Thank you for the food, Master. I didn’t want Holly to freak over me calling him Master again, but I couldn’t speak without using an honorific. This seemed the best option.
You’re welcome. We’ll discuss when it’s appropriate to thank me. I’m responsible for taking care of you, so breakfast is something I’m obligated to provide.
Not like this, Master.
“What time is it?” Holly asked.
“Time is immaterial to you, for now,” Abbott answered. Someone entered with the smoothie, settled it in front of Holly, and left.
“Is it day or night?” Holly asked. “How much time did I lose? Why are there no windows?”
“Drink your smoothie, and I’ll give you information on my terms. Sit and stare at it, and I’ll converse with Spencer.”
I was about to lean in and help her, but Abbott spoke in my head. Give her a little more time to make a decision.
As you wish, my Master.
I’m pleased with the attention you gave her while she slept. The nails were a nice touch. They’ve lessened her fear a little.
Thank you for your kind words, Master Abbott.
Holly took a small sip, and Abbott told her, “I found you passed out in a wooded area of Miller Park. Eight cents in your satchel, no identification, and strung out on meth — which you appear to have run out of and crashed after being awake no telling how many days. I’ve helped people get clean before, and I brought you to my home in the hopes I can help. ”
“Who says I need to get clean?”
The Master opened up a pathway so I could hear into Holly’s mind. Even her thoughts had that thick, redneck accent.
Did you miss the part where I found you in the woods with no money? Abbott asked her telepathically.
“So? It’s a free country and that park’s public property. I can sleep there if I want.”
Everyone was silent for a handful of seconds while we waited for her to realize he’d asked the question in her head. When she didn’t, Abbott spoke in her head again.
How long has it been since you saw your son?
“How do you know about…” She stopped talking as fear spiked through her body. Abbott froze her legs so she couldn’t run.
I’ve been all through your head, Holly. I know you quit school and ran away in the tenth grade, so you only have a ninth-grade education.
Your parents hired a private detective when the cops didn’t seem interested in looking for a screw-up kid who’d been failing classes and doing drugs.
When the PI found you nearly a year later, your parents put you in a rehab facility.
You were released a few months before you turned eighteen and went right back to drugs.
They’re raising your son and have had to cut you out of their lives to protect him from your stupidity.
You have supervised visitation rights, but you haven’t seen him since Christmas.
Your big brother’s been helping you, but now that you’ve stolen from his daughter, it’s likely you won’t be able to crash on his sofa anymore, either.
She glowered at the smoothie and didn’t drink anymore. Her thoughts were all over the place, but seemed to focus on the fact he’d called her stupid, instead of the rest.
“You will live with me for six months,” Abbott said, “after which time you’ll be given a choice of whether to leave or stay. If you leave, you’ll remember being placed in a rehab facility to get clean. You’ll remember group therapy. You’ll be happy, and will have plans to stay clean.”
“Forced rehab? That’s illegal if you aren’t a judge.”
My former master would’ve slapped her so hard she’d have landed on the floor. Abbott didn’t seem pissed, though.
“No one knows where you are, Holly. I could keep you forever if I wanted.” His voice was matter of fact with no emotions, and yet it came off as a statement instead of a threat.
Sharp fear rolled off her and I had to hold my breath a few seconds to keep from gagging on the stench of rotten cabbage and bad eggs.
She didn’t look terrified, though. She lifted her chin and met his gaze as if she wasn’t the least bit worried.
“You can screw me any way you want if you give me a hit. Cleaning me up isn’t the way you want to go. ”
He spoke with a touch of power. “Drink your smoothie, Holly.”
She drank it down in four gulps, and I rubbed her back as I marveled he’d aimed the power of his voice to her without it doing more than making me shiver. I hadn’t felt the need to take a drink. Master Abbott wasn’t just scary-powerful, he wielded his power with tight control.
“You must feel awful,” I told Holly as she set the glass back on the table. “Some food in your stomach and calories for energy will help. We’ll have watermelon for you soon, but I’m sure we have grapes and bananas in the kitchen if you’d like some more fruit?”
She turned to slap me and I caught her wrist. Her eyes shot open wider than I’d thought possible, and I kissed the fingertips of the hand she’d meant to slap me with.
“You never said if the red is good or if you wanted another color.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Who undressed me and cleaned me?”
“I believe I’m to be your caretaker, so the job fell to me.”
Abbott sighed, and I picked up a hint of sorrow from his scent.
“Spencer was sold into slavery at eleven, as he was finishing the sixth grade. He was in the foster care system and was assumed to be a runaway, so no one ever looked for him.” Abbott looked to me a brief second before returning his gaze to Holly.
He spoke to me telepathically while he looked at her.
I hope you don’t mind, but I believe knowing your story will let her know you’ve had it worse than her, and could help the two of you bond.
Also, it will remind her she had every opportunity and squandered it, while you had none and you’re solid — a good head on your shoulders and in complete control of your words and temper.
I trust your judgment in all things, My Master.
I sensed a micro-second of frustration before he continued talking to Holly. “He was trained to be a sex slave without anyone actually taking his virginity, and his Master took it on Spencer’s twelfth birthday.”
My former master had lived in a time when children could marry at twelve. In his mind, waiting until I was ‘of age’ had meant he wasn’t a pedophile. I was fairly certain my new Master wasn’t ready to tell Holly about vampires just yet though.
I could still hear Holly’s thoughts, and though they were jumbled, she was horrified.