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by Assassin Master [Whispers] (mobi)

  “You don’t just undo these deals. My life would be in danger. Draco wants the girl,” Roll yelled.

  “She belongs to me!” Tyr yelled louder. “Not anymore!” Roll shrieked.

  Carrie crept to the door and, hiding behind it, she watched, terrified, as the two powerful men looked as though they were about to exchange heated blows. Tyr’s red face looked murderous as he glared daggers at Roll. Carrie knew who would prove victorious if they engaged in battle. Though Tyr was more muscular, Roll would prove to be a handful. Tyr looked capable of dealing with a handful. She cowered behind the door, terrified.

  “What the hell do you expect me to tell him?”

  Roll snarled.

  “Tell her she was dead when you got back,” Tyr said, snapping his fingers. “You must have told him she was sick, right?”

  Roll’s head fell back as he took in large breaths, staring up at the ceiling. “Yes, I explained the girl was ill, but didn’t elaborate.” Dropping his head forward and running a hand through his hair, Roll’s look was semi-relenting; his gaze was haggard.

  “I spent a lot of time closing the deal on the girl based mostly on my description alone. The photo wasn’t enough, especially because she was sick when we closed the deal and the only picture I have of her was from nine months ago when I first began tailing her. You know I don’t keep incriminating evidence around, but he knows my reputation. Damn it!” He gave Tyr a calculating look.

  “Draco was paying me a hefty amount,” Roll said, crossing his arms over his chest. His smile twisted and Carrie could tell Tyr was going to pay for this.

  Tyr crossed his arms over his own massive chest.

  “He was paying us a hefty amount,” he countered.

  Shrugging, Roll was watching Tyr shrewdly. “It’s my butt if he ever finds out I lied, I’m the one at risk. He would be angry. I could lose a good business customer. If word got out I lied, can you imagine the hassles, all the trouble it would cause? My reputation could suffer. Not to mention my time and effort...”

  “How much?” Tyr said, annoyed, expelling a large breath. Carrie could tell Roll had him; she held her breath, waiting.

  “Fifty.”

  “You’re insane!” Tyr exploded.

  “Hey, I know my business. I could get fifty for her, and once trained, even more,” Roll said adamantly.

  “Twenty-five.”

  “Listen, since you’re a friend you can have her for forty-five.”

  “Thirty. And you’re no friend of mine.”

  “Forty. You just hurt my fragile feelings.”

  “Thirty-five. You have the feelings of a depraved crocodile.”

  “Deal! I am one happy croc.”

  Carrie watched as both men clasped hands, sealing their deal. She wandered back to bed open- mouthed. Tyr had just paid thirty-five thousand dollars to own her. No wonder he expected her absolute obedience. She also wondered if Roll was right about the fifty thousand; the amount made her head spin. What if someone offered that much to Tyr for her, would he take it?

  Swallowing heavily, she wrapped the blanket

  around her. She rocked back and forth, thinking hard. She was frightened of Tyr. He had been rough with her, but had not harmed her overmuch. What would another do to her? During her illness Tyr had cared for her. She had felt positive he held affection for her. He could have left her alone while sick. He could have let her lie in her own vomit, uncaring. Yet, he had held her and soothed her fears. He had cuddled her shaking body while she wept. If she were to be

  owned, her life would be easier if the man who possessed her also possessed compassion. Tyr was capable of great tenderness and kindness.

  She resolved right then to do as he told her. Perhaps if she obeyed his every command he would not sell her to another. Perhaps if she offered him her absolute obedience he would never feel the need to harm or frighten her again.

  “Carrie!”

  Carrie jumped, hearing Tyr call her. She ran to him and stood before him.

  “I’m hungry,” Tyr demanded, though his face held certain satisfaction she had come running when he called.

  “What would you like me to make for you?” she

  asked, head bowed.

  “Spaghetti and meatballs, the hamburger has thawed in the fridge,” Tyr snapped. “Don’t forget the salad and garlic bread,” he threw over his shoulder as he went and sat down.

  Carrie ventured off into the kitchen. After three years on her own she could cook, and cook well. It helped that Sue had also been teaching her through the years, and she felt comfortable in her setting. She would show him she was worth what he'd paid for

  her…she hoped.

  * * * *

  “Well damn, Tyr, you didn’t mention you had her trained already,” Roll said, astonished at the

  exchange.

  “You didn’t ask,” Tyr said. “Carrie, bring me a beer!”

  Carrie appeared before him immediately. She had removed the cap and looked at Tyr nervously. He sensed her agitation and wondered if she could cook. Perhaps he should have asked her first. He took a long swallow from the bottle and watched as Carrie rocked from foot to foot. The two regarded one another, Carrie from under lowered eyes.

  “What is it, Carrie?” Tyr finally asked, keeping his

  voice calm as he sensed her distress. “Do you want a glass?” she asked.

  “No, just my dinner,” he replied with some relief. She turned and went back to the kitchen.

  Roll chuckled, amused at the exchange. “Are you sure you can do this? If you’re not careful you’ll make her sick.”

  “What do you mean?” Tyr asked with trepidation. “Neither of you know what you’re doing. She

  can’t guess, she needs to be told. You need to be consistent. If you’re not and she has to start second guessing herself her stomach will end up in knots from fear and frustration. She’ll get ulcers and you’ll get the bill. You know how expensive the professional doctors are. You not only pay for their services, you pay even more for their silence.”

  Tyr exhaled slowly. Damn! This was getting worse

  by the minute.

  “I could always buy her back off you,” Roll offered.

  “Really! How much? She is trained,” Tyr asked,

  then jumped as a glass crashed to the floor in the kitchen, shattering. Tyr looked at Carrie, who had been watching their exchange. Her terrified eyes rested on him. She sobbed softly, her fingers pressed to her mouth. Her body began to shake. Tyr went to her and pulled her into his arms. He lifted her onto the counter and swept up the glass, not wanting her bare feet to be cut. When finished he placed her back onto her feet and gave her a good squeeze.

  “I won’t give up a good cook,” Tyr whispered into

  her ear. She nodded. When he released her she went back to work on his dinner.

  Roll was smiling at the pair. As Tyr approached him he quietly voiced, “I’m wondering in the end just who will rule whom.” Tyr glared at him.

  * * * *

  Carrie was standing beside Tyr and he could sense it was with bated breath; she rocked from one foot to the other. Tyr took a bite of the food placed before him. Her breath expelled in a loud whoosh when he declared it not half-bad.

  “Get yourself something to eat, Carrie, and come sit beside me,” he directed.

  Carrie retrieved herself a small amount of food and settled herself to Tyr’s left. Roll shoveled food into his mouth as though he had never eaten,

  declaring it was the best spaghetti and meatballs he had ever tasted.

  “Sure you don’t want to sell her?” Roll asked; he

  wolfed down his third piece of roasted garlic bread.

  Carrie’s fork paused before her mouth. Tyr took note of her apprehensive expression.

  “No,” he said around a large mouthful of food.

  “You had best get used to the question, little one. There will be a great many men who will be interested in you in your new circle,” Roll said.
>
  Carrie looked at him. “Why did you do this to me?

  I only wanted to help you. I had never met you before. Did I do something to anger you somehow?”

  “No. Malice was never involved. It was your vulnerability and absolute predictability that got you here. If you had wavered from your routine things may, or may not, have turned out differently,” Roll replied.

  Carrie put her fork down. Tyr handed it back to her. “I’m not hungry,” she said. Her deep sadness caused a tremor in her voice.

  “You will not starve yourself again,” Tyr

  commanded . He felt concerned. She was tiny enough already; her bout with illness had dropped her petite size to doll-like proportions. The small amount of food on her plate had seemed minuscule to begin with and she had hardly touched it.

  Carrie’s woeful look almost shattered his resolve.

  She looked so sad and forlorn. Tyr wanted nothing

  more than to pull her into his arms and hold her, soothing her fears. He knew he could not. Roll, with his eagle eyes, was watching. He also needed to exert control over her, as Roll had suggested. The place he was taking her would frown at him coddling her. Her obedience would be demanded.

  He remembered being around Seth once while

  dealing with a new girl of his. She had also seemed very young. She had been devastated to have been taken from her family. She was not eating, though not out of defiance, but heartbreak. Leniency, to a small extent, was allowed with the new ones. Their terror of the unknown was so great already; a simple show of compassion sometimes helped their transition.

  “Come now, Carrie. If you don’t eat, how will I

  ever be able to pick out new clothes for you if you keep changing sizes?” Tyr said.

  Frowning, Carrie dutifully ate more. Tyr knew it wasn’t the offer of clothes, but the tone of voice he had used with her. He remembered Seth saying once if his girls were happy they were of better use to him and his men. Once they had been frightened sufficiently into obeying, Seth had told him he could relax around them, and they could relax around him. They calmed once knowing what was expected and knew if they did as they were told no harm would come to them.

  “When will you be leaving?” Roll asked.

  “Tomorrow, if the weather holds. I need you to

  fly me to Seth’s,” Tyr replied.

  Nodding, Roll obviously liked the plan. “I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of Seth myself. Seth would have paid a great deal for her, even more than Draco. Seth can teach you better than anyone how to tame the girl. He’s also not a cruel man, just very demanding. He and his men will keep Carrie safe from harm and also keep her from running.”

  Tyr watched Roll closely, knowing he liked the

  plan. Seth’s home was a fortress in the middle of nowhere, a remote desert in the Middle East. She would never be in a position to tell of him and what had transpired. It was important for Roll to feel safe; he would never drop Tyr off at a random site—it had to be a slaver's home. He didn’t want him taking off with Carrie. Roll had so many contacts Tyr would never find her if she vanished. Making people vanish was a profession Roll did well.

  “Seth will teach her a great deal. His women are well-trained. He and his men will be gentle with her once you have first taken her. None of his women are used overmuch, or brutally,” Roll said.

  Carrie stopped eating again. Her eyes were widening in horror at the implication. It was apparent she came to the horrible realization as to where he was taking her. The terrifying reality of her situation must have sunk in like a large stone. She was owned; he could do whatever he liked with her, he could give her to whomever he chose. She was powerless to stop

  him. She would be at the complete mercy of men.

  Carrie swallowed heavily. Looking at her, Tyr thought she might vomit or faint. Feeling distressed himself, he wondered how he was going to keep Seth and the others from touching her. Seth would not like it if he was forbidden to touch her. Especially since he would be keeping her while Tyr changed her identity and found her a safe place to live. This was a dilemma.

  Tyr reached to clutch Carrie’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m certain Seth will understand if I choose not to share my prize just yet,” he said with agitation and some jealousy.

  Roll chuckled, his gaze settling onto Tyr. “I’m certain he will oblige, for a little while. Even Seth has had a few he was loathe to share.” Tyr’s cheeks brightened.

  Carrie was looking from Roll to Tyr. “Carrie, finish your dinner,” Tyr snapped. She bowed her head, picked up her fork and began eating. Tyr offered Roll a triumphant glance; Roll just laughed.

  * * * *

  Tyr rose from his chair and ordered Carrie to clean up. Once finished he put her to bed with a stern warning, his look and posture intimidating. Consequences, if she ran, would be harsh this time. He would find her and she would be dealt with. Although he said nothing specific, Carrie knew the term ‘dealt with’ would involve a great deal of

  punishment and pain. Also she knew firsthand how cold it was outside from experience.

  The small wood stove in the cabin was added to

  regularly; both men took turns stocking it to keep them warm and comfortable. Her shoes had been taken from her. Tyr allowed her a pair of socks often enough, as the floor was cold and not insulated, and one of his shirts to wear. Otherwise she was bare; Roll had refused to return with any clothing for her, wanting absolutely no connections to a woman, although he had enough compassion to buy her a thicker, warmer blanket. Running naked through the frozen forest was somehow neither an inviting nor an appealing thought.

  She also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt Tyr

  would track her again and as he warned, he would definitely find her. Thirty-five thousand dollars was a lot of money. She also doubted Roll gave refunds or exchanges. Though frightened of what tomorrow would bring, Carrie determined to stay put. She curled up into a small ball after Tyr settled the new thick blanket over her. He ran a hand down her hair in a familiar comforting gesture. He settled himself beside her, perched on the side of her bed, stroking her back. Feeling somewhat comforted, Carrie slept.

  Chapter Seven

  Carrie stood plastered to Tyr’s side. She had awoken from a drugged stupor in a mammoth of a house, surrounded by a sea of desolate desert and blue, endless skies. The impressive room where she stood expanded a great distance, with openings in numerous directions, spanning down long, intricate halls. Sunlight streamed down upon them through skylights—although Carrie detected not one window in the main room—from a long side window.

  Towards another room she could see green foliage, massive stone fencing, and beyond, endless white sand. Light blue marble tile covered the expansive floor, shined to a high polish. An immense, stunning fountain trickled as the room’s glorious centerpiece. The clear water flowed from the mouth of a beautiful angel with wide fanning wings. The imposing statue was painted in realistic colors, a sight Carrie had never before beheld.

  Tyr had been talking to a large, well built, tall,

  handsome, older, blond-haired man. The two had been laughing about something, but quieted as she had approached Tyr on silent feet.

  “Come to me, Carrie,” Tyr had encouraged in a

  tender voice, reaching for her. She had raced to him.

  The large blond man regarded her with great interest. Carrie regarded him with equal amounts of trepidation.

  “Carrie, this is Seth. You will obey all of his

  commands. Do you understand?” Tyr said sternly. “Yes,” she replied. Seth’s ice blue, enchanting

  eyes were devouring her petite figure. She swallowed heavily, feeling as though she were being eaten alive.

  Seth pulled her gently but firmly from Tyr’s side. She cast her frightened eyes to Tyr, who remained motionless, obviously knowing what was to come, and from his stiff posture she knew he would not interfere. She realized this was to be one of her first lessons while sequestered wit
hin these walls. She hoped she would not become hysterical; she waited anxiously, wondering what the man before her was about to do.

  Seth turned her around, looking at her from behind and sideways. Carrie was barefoot and wearing one of Tyr’s flannel shirts, which hung slightly past her hips, scarcely covering her bare bottom. Seth undid the buttons of the shirt with practiced ease and let the fabric fall to the floor, exposing her before him.

  Carrie blushed crimson, but knew not to cover

  herself. She ducked her head, wondering at his intent; her blond hair fell over one of her exposed breasts. Her body began to shake from fear. Seth placed a

  large hand onto her slender shoulder, holding her firmly in place, as though sensing she might bolt. The other hand trailed down her waist, his hand remaining for a moment, before lowering to delve between her thighs, spreading her legs carefully.

  Horrified, she cried out and pushed at him when he explored her intimately. Her body flinched as though under attack, and Seth released her shoulder, catching her wrists within one strong hand, pulling them up high over her head to keep her from moving away.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she wept, terrified. “Tyr!” she cried out while squirming, to no avail.