She nodded and looked back at Jayson on the couch. “I’ll see you later,” she said without emotion and walked out of the apartment.
“You okay?” Richard asked as they walked out to his black sedan. He opened the door and she dropped into the passenger seat.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly as he looked down at her from the sidewalk.
He gave her a warm smile. “Well, I hope I can help you feel better before the evening is over.” He closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side, slid in gracefully, and started the car with the press of a button on the dash. He patted her hand before shifting into gear and driving away from the curb.
Soothing, classical music played on the radio as he maneuvered smoothly through the traffic. The leather seats were soft and supple, molding to her body. Everything reeked of luxury, something she wasn’t quite used to. Her parents hadn’t been poor, but they certainly didn’t drive luxury cars. Chase was obviously well-off, which she was still getting used to.
“Where’s the Manor?” she asked in a soft voice. The car was so quiet, she assumed he’d be able to hear her. It didn’t even sound as if it had an engine.
“In Cambridge. Across the river.” He nodded toward her window. She turned and stared at the Charles River in the setting sunlight as they drove next to it. She saw the twinkling lights of the buildings on the other side.
“What do you do, besides be an Elder?”
Richard smiled. “You don’t think I sit in the Manor all day and dream up nefarious plots?”
She couldn’t stifle her laugh at the image of him sitting like a villain in a cartoon, scribbling plans on big pieces of paper and laughing maniacally.
He laughed softly. “I’m the CEO of a defense contracting company.”
“Like weapons and stuff?”
Richard nodded. “And electronics. We design and manufacture all types of things.”
“So, you could blow up the world?”
“I never thought about it in those terms before,” Richard said, tilting his head. “I suppose I could, but why would I want to?”
Sabrina shrugged.
“I prefer to think about it as helping our military stay strong and equipped.”
“That’s a nicer way to think about it.”
“I think so.”
Thinking of the military made her think of Chase, which made her heart ache again. She stared out the window and blinked back tears.
A while later, they pulled up to a set of wrought-iron gates, which opened a moment later. Richard drove through and down a long driveway that curved in front of an enormous, three-story mansion of white stone. He stopped by a black wooden door and turned the car off.
“We’re here.”
He exited the car and hurried around to open the door for her. She stepped out and stared up at the building for a long moment, until Richard cleared his throat and motioned for her to follow him up the steps.
The foyer was two stories high with a giant crystal chandelier hanging in the center. The floors were polished white marble, the walls paneled in dark wood. Two marble staircases curved around to form an archway over the hallway to the back of the house.
A large man with closely cropped dark hair and wearing a brown tunic and matching pants appeared from a side door. He bowed slightly to Richard. “Good evening, my lord,” he said.
“Good evening, Patrick,” Richard responded in a friendly tone. “How are you?”
The big man smiled. “Good, sir. Thank you for asking.” He looked at Sabrina and his eyes widened. “Is this . . . ?”
Richard nodded. “Patrick, I’d like you to meet Sabrina Mansfield. Sabrina, this is Patrick. He runs the place when I’m not here.”
“It is an honor to meet you, my lady.” When he bowed to her, she looked at Richard, who seemed pleased.
“It’s nice to meet you . . .” She trailed off. He didn’t call her by her name. She didn’t know what she should call him. She looked at Richard.
“In the Manor, you should address all men as ‘my lord,’” Richard explained.
“Seriously?” she asked, thinking he was joking.
But his expression was serious. “For now. It will depend on what position you decide to take here.”
She sobered immediately. “Oh.”
“The Brotherhood is steeped in tradition, which does take some getting used to. Nothing changes quickly, if at all.”
He began walking farther into the building. Under the staircase that bridged the room, he turned right and motioned toward a large dining room. The long, dark wooden table could easily accommodate thirty people. The seats were all white upholstery.
“We often have dinner here before the Gatherings,” Richard explained. “Sometimes it’s only a few people. Sometimes it’s many.”
He crossed to the other side of the hallway to a smaller, more intimate room. It was paneled all in oak and had a bar in the corner. “This is where we have cocktails or informal meetings. These are the public areas of the Manor. I’ll take you to the inner, private areas.”
Richard walked toward the back of the house and around a corner to a doorway hiding a wooden staircase going both up and down. “Upstairs are the guest rooms and dormitories.”
“Dormitories?”
“For my slaves.”
She stared at him. “Slaves?”
Richard nodded. “All Elders have them. Sex slaves.”
She remembered him saying he had slaves, but he spoke of them in such an offhanded way, she could hardly believe it. “How can you have slaves? It’s illegal. It’s immoral!”
“I don’t abuse them, Sabrina. They are well-cared-for. They and their mothers before them have only ever known the Manor. How else do you suppose we keep the men pleased?”
“I thought wives came to the Gatherings.”
“They do, but there aren’t enough women for the men. And wives aren’t always allowed. Not when there is formal business to attend to.”
Sabrina couldn’t believe what she was hearing and shook her head. “Chase knows about this?”
“Of course. All those in the Brotherhood do.” He studied her face for a long moment. “Slavery isn’t always bad, Sabrina. As I said before, I care for them. They’re happy. Would you like to meet them?”
She didn’t believe him for one moment. “Yes.”
An amused look appeared on his face as he motioned to the stairs. “Third floor.”
She turned and walked up the circular staircase, Richard following behind, and stopped at the closed door at the top.
“Open it. It’s not locked.”
“They’re not locked in?”
Richard shook his head. She opened the door into a large, sunlit room full of skylights and windows. It was bright and cheery, with sheer curtains that gave it a feminine feel. Women and girls lounged on couches, chairs, and the floor, chatting and giggling. In the corner, a large TV had a movie playing.
Someone noticed them and clapped twice. Immediately, every face turned to them. The next moment, seventy-five females were on their knees with their hands placed, palms together, under their chins, eyes downcast.
“Hello, girls,” Richard said pleasantly, a warm expression on his face.
“Good evening, Master,” they respond in unison.
Richard walked among them, stroking heads and asking questions. Each one of them looked up at him with absolute adoration, and Sabrina could do nothing but stare. When he got to the middle of the room, he turned and smiled at her, as if saying, See? They’re happy. And she had to admit, he was right.
“Girls, this is Miss Sabrina Mansfield.”
“Good evening, my lady,” they said, all of them looking at her curiously.
“She is Master Chase’s special lady.”
Several of them c
lapped in delight and soft murmurs filled the room. Sabrina had expected jealousy, but she sensed none of that. On the contrary. They seemed genuinely happy to hear that Chase had a “special lady.”
Richard asked about someone in particular and one of the girls responded that the girl in question was ill. He immediately motioned for Sabrina to follow. She picked her way through the room to follow him down a hallway to a closed door. He opened it and sighed when he saw a girl in bed, sleeping. He walked over and sat down on the bed, stroking her hair gently until she opened her eyes. When she saw him, she tried to get out of bed, but Richard shook his head.
“Stay in bed, Cara,” he said softly. “Nadia said you weren’t feeling well. Has Dr. Weston been in to see you?”
Cara nodded. “Yes, Master. He says it’s just a bad cold and bed rest is the best thing.”
“He’s right,” Richard agreed. “Have you been eating?”
“I had a little soup earlier, but I couldn’t finish it.”
“All right. I wanted to check on you.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Do you need anything?”
“No, Master,” she said, adoration in her tired eyes.
“If you need anything, tell Patrick and he’ll get it for you.”
“Yes, Master.” Cara stifled a yawn and Richard stood.
“Get some sleep. I’ll check on you Friday.”
“Yes, Master,” she said sleepily and closed her eyes. Richard pulled the covers up to her chest and smoothed her hair before walking back to Sabrina. He opened the door and they walked out into the hallway.
She followed him back to the large room, her head full of new thoughts. The girls were still on their knees, but had started talking again in his absence. They returned to silence when they walked into the room. Richard spoke to a few more of the girls as they made their way across the room and through the door.
“Do you still feel the same indignation as before?” Richard asked as they walked down the stairs.
“No,” she whispered. There was something free in their manners. They had none of the burdens she felt. They were happy and obviously loved Richard.
*****
Richard led her back down the way they had come and out the door to the hallway. At the very back of the house was a wide marble staircase that wound down until they arrived at a medium-sized waiting area that had a heavy white curtain on one side.
“This is the Gathering room,” he said, pulling back the curtain. A wide staircase led down to a room the size of a large movie theater.
On a platform surrounded by a low, black-stone wall, a golden statue of an enormous eagle occupied most of the far wall. It half-crouched, poised as though ready to launch itself into the air, wings caught forever in the act of spreading, its head tipped defiantly, raised beak inches from touching the twenty-foot ceiling.
The walls of the room were paneled oak, the floor covered with red carpeting, except for the outer five feet or so, which was white marble. In front of the eagle was a platform with two chairs that remind her of thrones. Around the room, clusters of couches and comfortable chairs formed intimate zones within the larger, more impersonal space. On one side, a large opening led to a hallway of some sort. But she couldn’t be sure because of the lack of light.
As she took in every detail, dizziness crept over her like a blanket. She felt the same light-headedness Ramon often induced when he deprived her of oxygen during one of his sex games. She blinked, trying to clear the gray film from her vision, and gasped for breath, but a tightness in her chest denied her vital air.
Then she felt something else. The energy of the room swirled around her. She leaned back and closed her eyes, arms spreading wide as it caressed her. Soft sounds surrounded her, then she felt ghostly hands on her body. She forced her eyes open, but saw no one.
Richard spoke as he stood next to her, but her ears failed her. She may as well be underwater, trying to understand someone talking from above the surface.
She fell to her knees, struggling to breathe. Hands . . . So many hands touching her, caressing her, feeling her. She moaned as she felt a hand between her legs. The energy touched her. It wanted her, and she wanted it.
Then she was jerked back to reality and found herself looking into the golden eyes of Theo.
“Theo,” she moaned, her voice hoarse. “I . . .” She looked around wildly, confused. “Someone was touching me.”
She felt the hands trying to reach her again. Her vision clouded and her body collapsed to the floor.
“She is unprotected,” she heard Theo say. “You must take her.”
“I can’t do that to Chase.”
“She is here without a Master. She is vulnerable and will succumb if you do not.”
Sabrina didn’t understand what they were saying.
“I didn’t know . . . ,” she heard Richard say.
“That does not matter right now. You must take her before they do.”
Suddenly, the ghostly hands felt insignificant compared to the new hands on her body. A mouth on hers, arms wrapped around her, a hot, solid body against her. She wrapped her arms around it and kissed back . . . hard. She could breathe again. She wanted him. She needed him.
Hands caressed her breasts and she sighed. A mouth on her nipple made her whimper with desire. She felt cool air against her skin, then hot skin against hers. He pressed against her pussy, then he was inside her. Her eyes closed as he whispered into her ear, but she didn’t understand the words. She concentrated on the sensation of him inside her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and thrust up against him.
I want him deeper, deeper. I want all of him.
Then another mouth on hers. A different mouth. Different hands. The first man was still inside her, but this second man . . .
I want him, too.
“Take me,” she whispered, opening herself to both of them.
And they did.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Sabrina woke with a start. She was lying on a bed. Naked. And she felt two bodies on either side of her. Male bodies. She felt peaceful. And aroused. She squeezed her legs together and sighed. She felt a little sore, but in a good way.
She turned her head to see who was next to her. Richard? She turned to the other side. Tom? What the heck is Tom doing here? And how did I end up in bed with them?
She heard a movement across the room. She looked and saw Theo, wearing a white linen tunic and pants, standing by a window. The room was only lit by a small, bedside lamp, but his body emanated a soothing golden glow. He motioned to her, and she carefully crept over Richard, trying not to wake him.
Theo held out a soft white robe. She wrapped it around herself before following him into an adjoining sitting room adorned with red velvet curtains and richly upholstered chairs near a marble fireplace. The thick carpeting cushioned her feet as she walked.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, gesturing to a chair and sitting in the one next to it.
She sat down and stared at him, trying to figure out exactly what she was feeling. She rubbed her face again. “Confused,” she said finally.
“I sense that. Why?”
She looked up at him. “I have no idea how I got here. The last thing I remember is being in that big room with Richard.” Couldn’t he read her mind and figure it out?
“I can, Sabrina. But it is important to say what is on your mind. Not just think it.”
“Oh.”
“So, you remember being in the room. What happened?”
“I—” She shook her head. “I remember being touched by unseen hands.”
Theo nodded. “Anything else?”
“Then it felt as if someone really was touching me.” She rubbed her eyes again, then snapped her head up. “Richard?”
“Yes. Do you know what was happening to you? The unseen hands?”
She shook her head.
“The Gathering rooms in the Manors are centers of power. Many rituals take place there. Many have occurred in the past.” He leaned back in the chair and steepled his fingers. “In those rooms, the veil between my world—our world—and this one is the thinnest. My brothers sensed you and came for you.”
“Why?”
“Because you are a rare jewel among women,” Theo answered with a smile. “Richard did what he did to protect you. To keep you here.” He leaned forward, his face turning serious. “Like it or not, Sabrina, you are a Koriathanati without a Master, and that is a dangerous position to be in.”
“I have a Master, whoever he is,” she said sadly.
“The bond between you and him is not very strong. If it were, my brothers would not have been able to try and take you.” Theo paused. “That is a good thing. It means there is a chance to permanently dissolve what happened in the past. But it is dangerous. It leaves you vulnerable.”
“You’re saying I need to be a slave?” she asked, offended.
Theo shook his head. “Elder-Mistresses are not slaves in the strict sense of the word. They serve their Elder, who becomes their guardian. By choice. For protection, yes, but also to be useful. To be fulfilled.”
“I don’t want to be an Elder-Mistress,” she whispered, remembering her conversation with Chase. “I don’t want anything to do with this world.” She looked up at Theo. “Richard has slaves. He says all Elders do.”
Theo nodded. “Yes. It is the way things are done. It will not change. But you saw them. They are happy, yes?”
“They seem so. But they’re not free.”
“Why do freedom and contentment have to be mutually exclusive?”
“Because they . . . they don’t have a choice in their life. How can they truly be happy if they don’t know all their choices?”
“Are you happy dancing with your dance company?”
“Yes,” she answered slowly, confused at the sudden change of subject.
“But you have not danced with all the dance companies in the world. How can you be happy if you do not know what it is like to dance with the Kirov or in New York?”
Master of My Heart Page 42
