“Always.” Bailey moved close and then tilted Ferris’s face up. “I would have you ready for me all the time.”
After a bit more love play, Bailey dressed and moved toward the front of the house. He returned very quickly, frowning.
“What’s wrong?”
“The door is locked.”
“Unlock it,” Ferris suggested playfully.
“If I could, I would, but it locks from the outside only.”
Ferris was not surprised that McBride could lock his slammers in but they couldn’t lock him out. It was the same way at the thrall house. “Well.”
“Well what?”
“Since you can’t go to work, it looks like I’ll have to keep you entertained here.”
A big, welcoming smile transformed Bailey’s face as he stripped back out of his clothes.
Chapter 10
McBride awoke in a panic. He was completely bound and couldn’t move. At first he had no idea where he was because it was pitch black. Fear gave way to chagrin when he realized he was home alone in his own bed. The only thing holding him were the blankets that he’d managed to twist around himself. He must have been having one hell of a terrifying dream to do that, but he couldn’t remember anything in particular about it.
“Lights.”
The lights came on, and he realized what had caused his confusion was the fact he had the shields activated. Rarely did he use them because they blocked out all the light, but he’d wanted to get in a few decent hours before he started another day.
“Shields up.”
Rolls of metal retracted back into the house. He winced when he realized how much of the day was gone. A glance out to the fields showed him his slammers were working, but a quick headcount made him realize two were missing.
“Ah, damn.” Hastily, McBride pulled on fresh clothing. Everything he’d been wearing yesterday had been burned at the scene, including his favorite pair of boots. After getting a distance away, he had stripped out of his temporary paper clothing and burned that, too. He’d arrived home in the wee hours of the morning totally nude. Utterly exhausted, he’d barely gotten into bed when he’d fallen asleep.
He dressed hurriedly, and after yanking on his second-favorite pair of boots, McBride rushed across the yard and unlocked Caleb’s door. He knocked once, sharply, but he moved swiftly away to Bailey’s door. He didn’t look back to see if Caleb got up and got to work. For all he knew or cared, Caleb could be making a series of rude hand gestures behind him. Today, McBride had much bigger issues to deal with. Whatever had happened out at the Larsden house was bad, and it was probably only going to get worse.
McBride knocked politely on Bailey’s door, unlocked it, and then entered. He heard them long before he saw them. They were fornicating up a storm in kitchen. A grin stripped some of his stress away. There was nothing like an amorous start to make any day special. If McBride had had more time, he might have fed from one of his slammers and masturbated, but he simply had too much to do. His aching balls were going to have to keep waiting because finding a release wasn’t a priority.
McBride waited for the moaning to peak and then die down. He cleared his throat.
“Master?” Bailey’s tone was curious and slightly mortified.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to let you out earlier. It was a long night.” McBride cooled his heels in the living room.
Eventually, Bailey entered with a sheepish grin. “We were, uh…”
“Say no more.” McBride lifted his hand. “Did Ferris tell you that I want him to work?”
Bailey made a bit of a face, but he nodded. “I was ready on time, but the door was locked.”
“I know. It’s my fault that I forgot. I wanted you two to have all the privacy you needed for your first night.”
With a sigh, Bailey cast his gaze from the living room toward the bedroom, but McBride didn’t think he was looking at the bed but out the window toward the fields. His suspicion was confirmed when Bailey asked if Ferris really had to work today or any day.
“I don’t expect a great yield from him since he’s new.” McBride wasn’t quite certain what was causing Bailey’s distress.
“But I can earn enough for the both of us.” Bailey kept his voice low, and out the corner of his eye, McBride noticed Ferris’s shadow casting a long slice of darkness as he listened from the kitchen.
Unsure if Bailey just wanted to play breadwinner because of his pride, or if Ferris had put Bailey up to talking McBride out of having him work, McBride erred on the side of caution. “I know you are more than capable of caring for your companion. There is no question in my mind of that. But I don’t think it’s fair for Ferris to be treated like a grinder.”
Bailey’s head snapped up, and Ferris’s shadow yanked back in obvious shock. Being called a grinder was a grievous insult.
“I would never treat him—”
“If all he does is lie on his back and spread his legs for you, then Ferris is essentially a grinder.” At McBride’s harsh words, Bailey hung his head. “Ferris will grow bored and probably resentful. When you are out working, what do you expect him to do all day? With the house completely mechanized, there is no cleaning or cooking that he needs to do. So I suppose he will just stay in bed and wait for your return.”
Ferris entered the living room and took a stance beside Bailey. “He only wants to protect me from his brothers.”
That was something that McBride could totally understand. “I swear to you, they will not touch Ferris.”
After focusing his intense gaze upon him, Bailey lifted his head until he was peering right into McBride’s eyes. “How can you promise that, when your back is turned, Caleb will not attack my mate in the field?”
It was a good question. “You are right to be concerned, especially with Caleb. He’s not the most controlled man.”
“He thrust once into the mechanical man and broke him.” Bailey pulled Ferris close by wrapping his arm around his narrow shoulders. “It wouldn’t even take that for him to kill Ferris.” Bailey’s concerned gaze moved away from McBride and onto Ferris. “All he would have to do is grab him and throw him to the ground and—” Bailey’s voice caught. It was clear that as he spoke he was seeing what he was describing. Worse, McBride did, too. Caleb’s mighty fist clutching at Ferris’s slender body would break his bones. If Ferris survived, he would never be the same. And it would only take once. A spilt second and the damage would be done. Just how was McBride going to stop that? Giving Bailey his word meant nothing if he couldn’t back it up.
He could lock Caleb in his house, but he was one of the best and fastest pickers. And as he’d just pointed out to Bailey, keeping Ferris locked up in the house all day was a sure way to drive him insane. Doing that to Caleb would be worse. Even if McBride provided Ferris with unlimited ways to entertain himself, he would grow bored and resentful with nothing to do, as would Caleb.
“I will find a way to make it clear to Caleb.” McBride already knew of one way, but it was more harsh than using the stocks. “He will leave your companion alone. I swear it.”
It was clear from the look on Bailey’s face that he wanted to believe him, but it was just as obvious he didn’t. And McBride didn’t blame him for being dubious. So far, McBride hadn’t done all that well in making Caleb behave. Everything he tried failed. But there was one solution to all their problems. Although, inflicting that punishment would destroy Caleb. Still, if McBride lost control of him, it wouldn’t be long before the other brothers realized McBride wasn’t a strong master. Shortly after that they would rebel, too.
“I would ask your permission to go into town—”
“Absolutely not.” McBride cut Bailey off. Until he knew what was happening with the crime scene and the potential blood-borne pathogen, he wasn’t letting any of his men leave the vast acreage of his tallos farm. They were safe here. If nothing else, McBride wanted to keep his personal blood supply untainted.
“But I must buy Ferris a collar, clothes, and a cons
ummation gift.” Bailey, who was normally the most easygoing of all the Morgan brothers, was clearly frustrated by McBride’s harsh behavior. “It’s part of the ritual for me to do that.”
McBride had forgotten all about those traditions. Tonight, McBride would remove Ferris’s pink collar, Bailey would drink from him, and then Bailey would put a new collar on Ferris to show his ownership. The clothes were a gift to Ferris for giving himself to Bailey. A consummation gift was usually something for the bedroom, like sheets, a sex toy, or exotic greasers. Sadly, with the potential danger, McBride couldn’t justify going into town for something that wasn’t critical.
“I’m sorry, but due to circumstances beyond my control, you simply can’t go into town. No one can.” Frankly, McBride didn’t even want to go himself. If and when he was called on to do so, he would have to figure out how to do it without endangering himself. Going into town with a biomask on would only spread confusion and fear. The last thing he needed to start was a stampede of the townsfolk toward other cities.
And that was when his gut seemed to turn to water. If word got out that there might be a virus in the small city of Woven Spire, government officials would have no choice but to quarantine the town, if not the entire planet. Even though he was lucky enough to call Earth home, the powers that be didn’t hold the planet any more sacred than the rest of the worlds. McBride knew if the situation were dire enough, they wouldn’t hesitate to obliterate the entire populace of Woven Spire and all the outlying areas. After a virus had destroyed the old world, taking away all the women, modifying many of the plants and animals, and turning most of the survivors into blood drinkers, there was simply no way the government wouldn’t take extreme measures if there was another potentially devastating virus detected.
“I promise to do it after work and I won’t linger,” Bailey said. “Just a fast trip. I swear it because I will rush back so you can train me through my first drinking.”
McBride shook his head. “We will have to make do with what we have here. Again, Bailey, if I could do things differently I would, but my hands are tied.”
“I don’t mind waiting.” Ferris hugged Bailey sideways. “I know that you will do that for me when you can.”
“I can do it now,” Bailey said pointedly.
“It’s not about the money, Bailey. You do indeed have plenty of funds.” As the owner of the Morgan brothers, one of McBride’s duties was to oversee their accounts. He could put money in, but only the owner of the account could take money out, which prevented the landed gentry from taking financial advantage of their slammers. Bailey wasn’t the best saver of the group, especially since he liked to spend his funds on somewhat frivolous items, but he had plenty of money to outfit Ferris in style.
“Then why can’t I—”
“I’ve said no. I’m not going to explain myself again.” McBride had had enough of being whined at and back talked. “You are going to stay here while I go find suitable items in the big house. For today, Ferris will stay inside while you work.” McBride made a point of looking at Ferris. “You will be spending the day getting to know how the house works and trying on the items I bring you.” Now his gaze encompassed both of them. “Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” they mumbled in sync.
“Good. Tonight we will do the ceremony and you will have all the accoutrements you need. They will be temporary. When I can take you into town, I will.” McBride turned on his heel and left the house. Only by years of stern discipline did he not slam the door. Normally, he’d be far kinder in his chastisement, but he was exhausted from the long night and genuinely afraid that whatever happened at the Larsden place was going to spread. As much as he hoped it was an isolated incident, he sincerely doubted it was.
He crossed the road and entered his house without bothering to look back and see if Bailey followed orders. McBride knew he was disappointed, but Bailey was still a dedicated worker. He would be out in the field where he would then be pelted with teasing jibs about his mate while he picked tallos.
Moving swiftly up the stairs to the top floor, McBride activated the butler.
“Good afternoon, sir. How may I be of assistance?” There was a thin coating of dust on the bot, but nothing drastic.
“I am in need of clothing that will fit a man of this height.” McBride held his hand up to Ferris’s height. “I would say he’s about six feet and maybe one eighty in weight.”
The butler hesitated and McBride almost repeated his request, but he realized the butler was going through the inventory list that was etched into his circuits. After a moment, he went over to a discreet wall socket, extended his finger, and inserted it. No doubt, he was conferring with the house and possibly the other servants.
“With your permission, sir, I would like to activate the valet. He was the one who dressed your father and his companion.”
“Sure. Of course.” When nothing happened, McBride remembered he had to be very clear with his bots and not use any slang or euphemisms because they didn’t understand them. “You have my permission to activate the valet.”
After a few moments, another bot entered the upper wing. He bowed to McBride and then conversed with the butler.
“Please follow me, sir.” The valet moved down the hallway toward McBride’s father’s room. He’d been in there once, very briefly, but he hadn’t given it a good look. Grief hadn’t been what overwhelmed him, but a slow-burning kind of fury at having so much dumped into his lap without his knowledge. His father had rarely spoken to McBride, preferring to correspond electronically with messages that were so brief they were more instructional than familial. Only once had McBride met his father. It had been a tense moment. McBride was going from the decanting farm to the academy and his father came to witness his graduation. A handshake and verbal pat on the back were all that McBride really remembered. He’d been thirteen then. What had shocked him was realizing that someday, he would look exactly like his father. Clones were exact physical replicas, so it was a given they’d have a similar appearance, barring anything such as disease or extreme weight fluctuations, but as far as McBride could tell, they were very different in temperament and deportment.
McBride followed the valet into his father’s closet. It was long and narrow, but both sides were filled with clothes. The garments ranged from extremely fancy to casual to ripped and stained items that he must have worn to do chores around the farm. Beneath the outfits were the appropriate shoes. McBride figured all of it would fit him perfectly, but something about wearing a dead man’s clothing gave him the creeps. He wasn’t certain why. He didn’t believe in ghosts or anything like that, just something about knowing what he wore used to adorn a man now gone bothered him.
At the very back of the closet, the valet pressed against the wall, opening the room up into another. Stunned, McBride followed the bot into a much smaller closet, but it was just as meticulously organized.
“Whose things were these?” Given the much smaller size, they wouldn’t have fit his father’s companion. According to Caleb, Jonas was shorter and lighter than McBride’s father but not this much. Jonas’s closet was on the other side of the bed, and it had been completely empty when McBride took possession of the house. These items would fit young Ferris so perfectly it was as if they’d been tailor made for him.
“This wardrobe was for Zeth.”
“Who the hell was Zeth?”
The valet turned and looked beyond McBride’s shoulder. When McBride turned, he found the butler had joined them in the closet.
“I was told to be discreet about this matter, but given that your father is dead, his companion is gone, presumably with Zeth, then there is no reason for me to keep circumspect any longer.”
“There isn’t. You served my father very well, but now you need to tell me the truth.” McBride felt a tightening in his gut. His bad night had given way to what was turning into a very unpleasant day. Learning that his father had secrets so dire he hid them behind walls was truly deva
stating.
“Zeth was a thrall.”
“What?” McBride was so shocked he instantly wanted to naysay what the butler claimed. Owning a thrall was illegal for a member of the landed gentry. It was as disgusting as McBride going over to Bailey’s house and removing Ferris from him to use him in his own bed. As cute as Ferris was, McBride simply had no interest in him. What in the world his father saw in one was beyond imagining.
“You can understand now why we did not show this to you when you first came.” The butler lowered his head as if he were ashamed, which was curious to McBride since he was a bot without emotions. His subtle showing of disgrace had to have been programed into him, because the butler was incapable of having genuine feelings of any sort.
“Why in the world would my father have a thrall when he had a companion?” It simply didn’t make sense. All his father’s blood and sexual needs should have been assuaged by his slammers and his mate. “I recently found out my father wasn’t drinking from his slammers, but having Jonas do it. Was it Jonas’s idea to get a thrall, too?”
Again, the valet and butler exchanged glances.
“Tell me the truth now, or I’ll have both of you decommissioned.” McBride kept his voice low, but he filled it with fire. He was sick of having everyone around him know far more intimate details about his father than he did. At this point, McBride would be questioning if he was actually a descendant of him but for the fact they looked so much alike. There was no truth more obvious than he was his father’s clone.
“Jonas bought Zeth,” the butler said. “Your father and Jonas used Zeth for blood and sex. That’s all I know.”
It was more than enough. His father had been breaking the law. Whether Jonas had brought Zeth into the mix or not was immaterial. His father had used him and that made him culpable in the crime. Although, since he was dead, it didn’t matter in the least. The only thing that could happen to his father now was his reputation was utterly destroyed in his son’s eyes. Not that McBride thought his father would care even if he were alive, considering how distant he had been. Not all men showed affection toward their clones, but McBride knew several boys whose fathers had doted on them. But for McBride’s father, having a son was far more a legal matter than one of love and a longing to nurture, especially since McBride had only seen the man once.
Bailey Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) Page 9