by A. A. Dark
“Do you realize what you’re asking of me? If the Main Master knew why you called me here, and I went along with this, we’d both be dead men.”
There was a pause as the Master studied my face. “You should be one of us. I know that as well as everyone else. I can do that for you. I can make it worth your while.”
“Is that so?”
More hesitation. “Ten million dollars. Half now, half when she’s dead.”
My lips pressed together as I pushed away temptation. Ten million was a lot of money—more than I had earned so far being a scout. But my status…
“Thank you for the offer, but I’ll have to give it consideration.”
“I don’t have time to wait around for your answer. You have until midnight.”
“And if I say no?”
The Master crossed his arms over his chest as he went back to gazing at the television. “You would be wise not to. Accidents happen at Shady Falls Retirement Home all the time.”
A laugh left me. Not from shock or even as a mask to cover the fear of my mother’s wellbeing. The sound was heartless, just like me. “You think I care if you kill that bitch? You must not have dug as deep as you should have. That woman turned her back on me for drugs over thirteen years ago. She’s been dead to me since. She’s a fucking vegetable. End her so-called life if you wish, but it will not sway my decision.”
I left without another word. The surge into the hallway had cold air slamming into my lungs. It got trapped in my chest as I collided with a passing slave. She bounced to the side, crashing into the wall and lowering her head as she caught herself and took off in a jog.
This wasn’t the first time I was asked to do something behind the Main Master’s back. Plenty of times Masters had searched me out because of my bloodline. But this wasn’t scouting. This wasn’t taking a hand-picked innocent off the streets to be introduced to Whitlock. No. This was killing my Main Master’s slave. This was treason in the most corrupt form.
Repeatedly, I clenched my jaw as I headed through the maze of white. A hall this way. One that way. Turning and twisting led me deeper within the fortress while I let the offer sink in. There was a lot I could do with that money, but what was status or cash if I got caught? Bram would kill me. Or worse…Everleigh would. It wasn’t like she was alone. She had men guarding her. How many, there was no telling. And the amount protecting her mattered. Who was I to accomplish something no one else had? I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t think I was smarter or stronger than the highly trained men already searching. If I went, I would more than likely die. Then where would ten million get me?
I found myself slowing at the turn leading to the Main Master’s wing. Should I tell him of this betrayal? Should I—
“Nineteen. Kinda far from Scout Quarters. Bored like me?”
I glanced behind, seeing a fellow scout approach. The weight at my hip registered, but I smiled, even as I stayed on-guard. Trust was for fools at Whitlock. I had learned that in my earliest days.
“You could say that. What are you doing here? I thought you were in New York.”
“I was. Just came in to check with Boss to see how things were going with the search.” Fourteen paused and glanced over his shoulder. “I’m not going to lie, I saw you leaving Master Barclane’s.”
“And?”
Dark eyes narrowed the smallest amount before he threw me a fake smile. “Nothing. Say, you didn’t happen to catch a glimpse of his slave in there, did you? Blonde. Tall. Beautiful.”
“I saw her.”
I started walking as he followed. There was something suspicious as his features tightened in thought.
“How was she? I found her, by the way.”
“Did you? Congrats on that. I’m sure she made you a lot of money.”
“Yeah, it’s whatever. How did she look? Was she doing okay? I mean…”
Glancing over, I slowed as he threw me an angry look.
“What? I can’t ask how she is?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. I see the way you’re looking at me. I’ll be blunt. Charlee is mine. Master Barclane may own her, but I’ll do with her as I please. I want to see her. I want you to help me.”
“You’ve lost your fucking mind. If you were caught, he’d kill you for touching what’s his.”
“She’s mine, or did you miss that part?”
A silent laugh left me. “You fell for a slave. Unbelievable. You, of all people. Do you really think she’d see you after you brought her here? After you ruined her life? If you go to her, she’ll tell him. She’ll tell her Master, and you’ll be as good as dead.”
“Charlee wouldn’t do that. I’m the only hope she has for believing she can escape this place. She’ll try to play me, and I’ll let her…so long as I get what I want.”
“Have I already said unbelievable? You’re as fucked-up as they come. I’m not helping you.”
“Then let me ask you this. What did he want? A new slave? A secret kidnapping? Would our Main Master approve?”
My feet planted, and before I could stop myself, I had Fourteen’s shirt fisted in my palm as I slammed him against the wall. “Don’t threaten me. I’m not the one trying to fuck a Master’s slave. Stay away. If you come near me again, I will inform Master Barclane. And we both know what will happen then.”
I pushed my fist into his chest, then let go of his shirt before stalking back the way I came. The morning had been too much. No one pushed me around. No one gave me orders I wasn’t okay with. Only one man ran this place, and it was about time he and I had a talk.
“Where are you going? Nineteen!”
The glare I threw had the scout growing quiet. I took a right, heading toward my Main Master’s wing. Guards thickened at every turn. Some nodded, while others eyed me uncertainly. It wasn’t common for scouts to go straight to Bram Whitlock. We went to Mateo, the scout leader, our boss. But not this time. Not for the news I had to share.
The incline in the hall gradually rose and I took a left, bringing me a good twenty feet from his door. Two guards were standing ahead—one on each side.
“Has he returned?”
My question had them standing straighter. “He has, but you’re not on the list. Did you have an appointment?”
“No. He won’t care that I’m here. I think he’ll want to see me.”
There was no response as I stopped short of them. One pulled out a phone.
“Number?”
“Scout Nineteen.”
He dialed, bringing the phone to his ear. “Sorry to bother you, Main Master, but a scout is here. Says he needs to talk to you.” The tall man’s mouth closed. As he reopened it to speak, the door swung open. The anger on the Main Master’s face had us all frozen at his glare.
“This better be good.”
The door opened wider, and I took a deep breath before heading into the large apartment. A little dark-haired boy was rolling a ball across the floor to an older woman in the living area, and the smell of food lingered.
“My office.”
The command had me following down a hall to the first door on the right. Books lined the shelves, covering the entire back wall, and a large desk sat centered before them. Master Whitlock leaned against the desk and cocked his head, waiting for me to begin.
“May I?”
He nodded as I gripped the doorknob. I shut it, swallowing hard. He didn’t fear me, and it showed. The knife he kept under his suit jacket never left him. It was common knowledge, and I wouldn’t have to get close for him to kill me with it.
“Are you here to offer to catch my slave too?”
“Uh…no, Main Master.”
“I haven’t been home but a few hours and two scouts have already come to me. If you’re not here about my slave, then what is it?”
One step. Two. I got closer, letting out a deep breath. “I am actually here about your slave, but not because I want to capture her. I’ve been made an offer.”
&nb
sp; “An offer? An offer for what?”
The interest was there, piqued, as he reached down to grip the edge of the desk with one hand. Whiter, his fingers became as he waited.
“I’ve been offered ten million dollars to kill her.”
Silence.
Blue eyes darkened as he slowly rose from the desk. “Kill her? And who made this offer?”
My mouth opened. “…Master Barclane, sir. Not fifteen minutes ago. He invited me to his apartment where he asked. He believes she’s behind the award he received. A child abuse award because of a donation. It angered him. He thinks she’s a risk not only to him, but Whitlock.
“Is that right? And what did you tell him? Does he know you’re here?”
My head shook. “No, Main Master. I told him I needed time to think over his offer. I have until midnight.”
“I see.” Bram headed for the small bar, pouring a scotch and finishing it in one drink as he kept his back to me. Time seemed to stretch forever.
“At ten-till, you’ll knock on his door. You will accept his offer. You will tell him you’ve already discussed your need to join the search and Mateo will be giving you an answer soon. Then, you will head to the Cradle where I will have your orders and assignment waiting.” He turned, setting down the glass. “I expect you to follow my orders to a T. You may not understand them, or even like them. It doesn’t change the fact that this is what your Main Master expects of you. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. What I’m asking of you will not be an easy task. You could very well die. For that, I’ll triple what Master Barclane offered, along with your rightful title if you so choose to take it. If not, you can pull guard at my side for your loyalty. Now, leave.”
Chapter 3
Bram
Desperation was the downfall of all men. Master Barclane knew better than to betray me. For hours, he had watched me kill the members closest to him. Yet, when his secrets were put to the test, he went into a panic, ignoring his allegiance to the one person who held his life in the palm of their hands. He reacted, and it was in the wrong way. The death threat may have been to Everleigh, but she was mine, and he knew that.
After his call informing me of her arrival at his apartment, I knew his loyalty had to be tested. I had to know where he stood concerning my slave. After all, someday she would return. With him on the board, and her at my side, he wouldn’t overlook her blackmail. He’d never trust her. For that, I needed to make sure I could trust him when he assumed she was at her worst.
He failed. And in more ways than one. It wasn’t Everleigh who donated in his name, it was me. Had he brought his concerns to me, I would have told him I was responsible.
Taking my phone from my pocket, I bit my bottom lip and hit the button for the millionth time since I had landed. Ringing met me as I brought it to my ear, and the voicemail shortly followed.
“I have to know you’re okay.” My breath caught at the turmoil twisting my gut. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry. I love you, slave. You have to call me.”
A squeal of laughter broke through my private barrier, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from rising to the cracked door. Alvin was happy at my return. He’d rushed into my arms the moment I walked through the door and spent a good five minutes holding my leg as I’d checked the news my second-in-command had left me. It was hard adjusting to the emotions the child brought out in me, but I couldn’t deny they were there. I was getting attached. A part of me might have even loved him.
Love…
Slipping the phone back in my pocket, I headed into the living area where Alvin was molded around a ball, letting it roll him off to the side. The moment he tumbled to the floor, the giggling continued. My smile was automatic, and warmth webbed in my chest.
Blue eyes lifted to mine, and he quickly got up, lifting his arms. Somewhere deep within, I knew he was too old to be held like a child. The future Master shouldn’t have such coddling, but I couldn’t overlook the tragedy his little mind had suffered so far. The poor child had been taken from his parents. Endured a trip all the way here with cold scouts and sobbing, hysterical slaves.
“Only for a moment.” I lifted him in my arms, unable to ignore the softening at the end of my stern statement. “There’s work to do. There’s always lots of work.”
“Play, Bram.”
“I don’t play. I work.”
Lids narrowed, but his smile returned. “Sing to Al-vin.”
“I don’t sing either. I’ll read to you.”
The smile fell as he looked toward his room. “Ev-leigh reads. Ever-leigh.”
More warmth appeared, tinted with an aching mourning. “She does. Did you like when Everleigh read to you?”
A nod was the only response he gave as he began to wiggle. The moment I placed him down, Alvin raced for his room. Within seconds, he was back, waving his book.
“Ev-leigh. I want Ever-leigh to read.”
“She can’t read to you, Alvin. She’s not here.”
“Ever-leigh. Read to Alvin.”
My head shook as I glanced at his nurse.
“He’s asked about her nonstop since she left.”
A curse was on the tip of my tongue, but I held it in, keeping my temper calm as the child began to yell her name and look around the room.
“Ev-leigh! Ever! Leigh!”
“Alvin.”
“Ever!”
“Alvin,” I said louder, nearly snatching the book. “We don’t throw fits. If you throw a fit, I won’t read you the book. You can play on the floor by yourself. We are leaders. You,” I emphasized, “will be a leader someday. I will not have some spoiled, little…person running this place. We can’t afford that. You must be reserved, but direct. If you want Everleigh, you have to make that happen. We Whitlocks do that.”
A pouty lip was paired with tear-filled eyes as he watched me pull out my phone.
“Probably not the best lesson, but what the hell.” I crouched, showing him the black device in my hand. “You want Everleigh?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to make a call, and you tell her. You tell her exactly what you want. That’s what we do. We voice our wants. And we get what we want, Alvin. It may not be when we want it, but we don’t give up, do we?”
A few seconds passed before he shook his head.
“That’s right. Now, I’m going to dial this number and when I put the phone to your mouth and ear, you tell Everleigh what you want her to know.”
Once again, I hit the button. Ringing sounded, and just like before: voicemail. I sighed, moving the cell to Alvin’s ear. The beep was distant, but I nodded to him.
“Ever-leigh read.” His lip quivered. “Ev-leigh read Alvin’s book…Ever?”
The tears racing from his eyes about did me in. What had she done by coming here? She had done something to this child in minutes that me and his nurse couldn’t.
“Jesus,” I whispered, pulling back the phone and bringing it to my mouth as I stood. “Do you hear him? You did this. You better call. If not for me, at least talk to him.” A wale burst through the room and my teeth ground as I angrily hung up the phone. “No. You did great. She’ll call. She better call,” I mumbled. “Come. I’ll read your book. Ms. Pat, will you make us a snack?”
“Of course, Main Master.”
I barely had Alvin to my sofa before my phone had my heart exploding in rhythm. The ringing was different. It was a video call from an unknown number.
“Sit. Let’s just…” I paused, “sit.” Trembling took over my hand as I pressed the button. Faster, my thumping pulse left me shaking, and it all came to a crashing stop as Everleigh’s pale face came into view. She was in a bed, and what looked to be half-conscious. Mascara was stained around her eyes and her hair was in a haloed mess around her head.
“Oh, God. Everleigh.”
“Alvin…asked for me. I want to talk to him.”
“You called.”
“For him.” A small cry left her
as she shifted and blinked heavily. “You’re an evil man using a child to get me to respond. For that, I’m not speaking to you yet.”
“Everleigh—”
“Don’t. Don’t…you dare.”
The slur was evident, and she yawned, only to grimace. The hint of a bandage covered her shoulder. I quickly memorized everything I could about her and the luxurious, red velvet throw pillow she had to the right of her own golden pillow.
“Ever!” Alvin thrust himself in front of me, climbing onto my lap in his excitement.
“Hey, sweetie. You called me?”
“Ever-leigh read to Alvin.”
“You want me to read your book? But…I don’t have a copy here.” Her mouth tightened as her eyes rose up to mine. “What’s the book called?”
Before I could speak, Alvin held it up, pushing the cover right up against the phone. A pained laugh sounded as she repeated the title.
“Got it. I will get that book so next time I can read it to you. How…about this?”
At her break in talking, I lowered the book so I could see her again. I had to see her. To watch her lips move as that haunting voice came through.
“How about Bram reads the book this time, and you and I listen. Is that okay?”
Alvin nodded eagerly, bouncing even more in his excitement.
“Alright, Bram. Let’s hear it.”
“First, tell me how you are.”
Tears trailed down her cheeks as she tried to move into more of a sitting position. A hand thrust into the camera’s view, gripping just below her breasts to help lift her higher. As it did, the camera flashed to the ceiling. My growl was immediate, making Alvin jump.
“Is that him? Luke, that bast—”
“Don’t you dare say it in front of the child. Read, Bram.”
Deep breaths left me as my adrenaline soared for an entirely different reason. She came back into view, and I tried to calm myself. With one hand, I managed to open the book and start on the first sentence, but I never stopped stealing glances up. “Engine Six is red.” Quick glance up. Everleigh threw a weak smile at Alvin, but lifted an eyebrow as she gave her attention to me. I looked back at the book, continuing again. “Engine six puts out fires.” Easing the book to the sofa, I turned the page, lifting it awkwardly again. “Courage rides on Engine Six. He’s a Dalmatian.” Another glance. Everleigh was back to smiling at Alvin, but she could barely stay awake. I battled holding the phone in one hand and the book in the other. Another flip. “Courage’s best friend is Phil, the firefighter. Phil is a hero.”