by Rae, Nikki
But thinking that way was dangerous. He seemed to realize this at the exact moment as I did, because his mask slid firmly into place and he offered me his arm. It wasn’t until now that I took in his appearance. He wore black as well, but his shirt was made of a different, finer material than Mr. B’s. His hair was combed neatly into a knot at the base of his skull and his beard had been neatly trimmed. He was the Owner he needed to be, so now I needed to play my part, no matter the outcome.
“You look beautiful, Doe.” His expression hadn’t shifted, but I could hear that he meant it.
I licked my impossibly dry lips. “Thank you, sir.” Instinctively, I curtseyed.
He nodded his approval. “I’ve requested to say goodbye to you privately,” he announced.
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say. “That’s…very kind, sir.”
“You’ve made me proud.” The mask slipped only for the second his voice broke. “Let’s get your shoes on.” He picked them up from the rug in front of the fireplace where we’d left them and patted the mattress when he returned. I sat down and waited as he fastened the shoes back on my feet. Then he stood in front of me, cupping my cheek and lingering on my skin. “Pretty,” he whispered, but it sounded more like an apology.
With the twitch in the corner of his mouth, he let go of me and I let go of who I had been with him. He held out his arm to me. “Shall we?”
I straightened my spine, pretending standing taller made me any braver. Threading my arm through his, we took a few strides towards the door. I waited for him to give me something—some coded words or actions—but nothing came. The door opened like any other, and we were in the hall in moments. I wanted to grip the statues, claw at the wallpaper, put up a fight and make him have to drag me, but it would change nothing.
I expected Master Lyon to hand me off to Mr. B, but he was nowhere in sight; it seemed he had also requested to deliver me to the Wolf personally.
Before Master Lyon had become more than just my Owner on paper, I’d been skilled at hiding my true emotions. I’d been so good at pushing things down that they rarely reappeared. But he’d shown me it was okay to feel. To hurt, to hate, to be angry, afraid, and on some level, happy, cared for, and loved. It had been a mistake, but one we’d both willingly made.
All the other times I’d had to jump through one of Jäger’s many hoops, I’d had Master Lyon there, telling me as long as I listened, as long as I obeyed, I would be safe. But now I didn’t know if I could do so when he wasn’t the one making the commands.
I had no recollection of walking down the stairs until we were almost at the end of another hall. The double doors were larger than the ones to the entrance of Lyon Estate, and two men I’d never seen before blocked the way. When they caught sight of us, they opened the doors simultaneously.
The first thing I noticed was the heavy, thick smell of incense, and as we entered, I struggled not to choke on it while keeping my eyes open to adjust to the fog. The only lighting provided was a large floor to ceiling window that sat behind a raised platform that was almost like a stage, and around it sat rows of chairs in a half-circle, the Members and their slaves already sitting or kneeling; waiting for my transfer so they could go home.
The view outside was the early morning sky and then an expanse of frost-covered grass with a few dispersed trees spread across the property. As we got closer, I took in the golden chairs that looked more like thrones—two of them with red tufted cushions on the floor beside them.
Master Lyon pointed to one of the cushions and my knees bent before I’d convinced them to do so. The cushion was deceiving; it looked soft, but every few inches were rivets, each one already digging into my skin. It was nothing in comparison to my constricted chest, the pounding in my ears.
Master Lyon smoothed my hair from where he sat beside me, but it was only so he could position my head so I was staring at the ground. This helped ease the wave of dizziness that had begun to overcome me, and I could better pay attention to my surroundings.
Music played from overhead speakers, the notes crashing into each other. Jäger had terrible taste—music being only one example.
The room had returned to muted chatter once they realized I wasn’t going to do anything entertaining. Master Lyon spoke to no one, and even if his expression gave something away, I could only see the tips of his shoes, the dark pant leg riding up just the smallest amount. I burned this image into my mind as one of the last I would have of him.
All conversation ceased a few minutes later, and I could hear everyone standing. I squeezed my eyes shut for just a moment. He was here. The man I’d thought I’d never see again. The one I’d run from. I had lived a lifetime within my short nineteen years, yet it was far too soon to end it.
I’d had to kill part of myself for Master Lyon, and I would kill the rest of her for the Wolf.
“I’m here, sir,” I heard Mr. B murmur behind me, and for whatever reason I was glad he was here. Master Lyon didn’t reply. The next time I heard him speak, it was to address the Wolf himself.
“Good afternoon, Master Jäger.” The name on his tongue sounded grotesque; something vulgar that only offended me.
“And you.” The craggy voice had only become deeper, older since I’d last heard it.
I remembered it so vividly. The boiling water, the red, blistering skin as he screamed, “Get back here, bitch!”
If I didn’t keep it in my mind, hold onto that sense of urgent freedom I’d felt as I fled, I wouldn’t be able to address him as was expected of me.
The two men were silent and the crowd around us didn’t say much either. I couldn’t tell if they were standing or sitting in their thrones, if Jäger had brought Master Lyon’s wife with him or if he was alone. The fact that I would not only have to lose my Owner, but face the woman he’d sacrificed me for finally hit me and I had to consciously remind myself to take deep breaths. I could still hear the music, but it was softer now, not as intrusive as it had been before Jäger arrived. This was an advantage, because now I could hear their quiet conversation.
Unlike my Owner, the Wolf loved to hear himself talk. I just hoped he would provide me with something useful.
“What a well behaved little whore,” he praised my Owner.
I’d expected something worse. I wondered if it bothered the two men from Lyon estate, but it was nothing new for a Jäger slave.
Master Lyon said nothing. He didn’t touch me—it would display too much, and that was a weakness we both couldn’t afford to reveal. Not when he was so close to getting back his wife.
“A broken girl is much more preferable to the mutt you choose to keep you company.” The audience laughed, but it was palpable how uncertain many of them were that they were doing the right thing.
Once it died down, Master Lyon replied without the mock-friendliness. “I train my girls to think for themselves. The ones I keep, anyway.”
Jäger gave pause and then released a laugh that sounded more like a coughing fit.
“Always so serious.” It was Gregor’s voice I heard now. I wasn’t sure whether he just arrived or had been there all along. “And modest. None of the others you’ve been so kind to offer as tribute for that boy have been so strong willed. It’s truly an accomplishment. Don’t you agree?” Gregor had raised his voice to the other Members and they clapped in response.
Others? All sound faded into the abyss. Had he tried to hand over other girls besides me? What number was I?
This whole thing had been a lie then. Odette wasn’t his wife; just another girl he liked better—one he wanted more than me. This man had never been in the resistance and he’d fooled me into it all.
I didn’t know how the Chaos connected to all this, but they were two separate things, and since this one was real, I decided to deal with it first.
“Anyway,” Jäger said, “I’m all too happy to return her to you. Gregor has told me how well you’ve trained my dog and I am pleased.”
Despite the bla
nket of edginess descending upon the room, Jäger sounded elated, blissfully unaware of how uncomfortable the majority of us were. Why wouldn’t he be excited? Any child would be in good spirits when they were about to receive the most coveted toy of their friend.
“Well,” I heard him clap his hands together once, “We should start. I’m sure you’re eager to get back to your life—as am I.” The last sentence was heavier; I could feel its lead-like weight in my stomach.
“As you wish, Master Jäger.” My current Owner sounded bored. This was probably a mundane task to him. He’d apparently performed quite often.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Gregor announced, “if you would take your seats, the ceremony is about to begin.”
The next few silent minutes struck me like a fist, sending needles of pain throughout my chest. I was almost relieved when he started speaking again. Anything was better than kneeling, having to stay completely still when I everything in my body told me to run. To fight. It was more obvious than ever why I’d been given this drug; I could tell myself to flee this very second and be unable to do so. This entire time, Master Lyon had dangled my freedom in front of my face like a spider spinning a web. He’d distracted me so thoroughly that I hadn’t seen what else lay ahead. There was no freedom. There was no safe. There was this life in the Order and then death. I was to be a slave and then fade into the many others who had served House Wolf, replaced by a new girl who would then be replaced by another and another.
The drugs were good for one thing: paralyzing my tears along with my body. I needed to shut that part of myself away. Look at her a different time, when I’d wrapped my head around all of this and was able to pick out what was genuine and what had been an elaborate act to get me to this point.
“Will the present Owners please rise,” Gregor said.
Master Lyon glided out of his seat as if I wasn’t there, brushing my thigh with the side of his shoe. I assumed Jäger had done the same, but I couldn’t hear him.
“Do you, Master Jäger of House Wolf, place your hand on this sacred copy of The Grim Order’s Children's and Household Tales and declare before all that you renounce your Ownership of Odette Lyon of House Chimera?”
Children's and Household Tales—the Grim Order’s bible. In the Mainworld, this was the original version of Grimm’s fairytales which included fables with sexual themes that were revised in favor of emphasizing violence; the version The Order used was an exaggerated version of both. It had been rewritten each century to better suit the needs and whims of the powerful, yet actual volumes were so rare, only a few privileged souls owned one. So how would a blacklisted Member have a copy?
“I renounce my Ownership of Odette Lyon of House Chimera willingly. In so doing, vow to uphold and protect the values of the Order.”
I’d never been to a ceremony among the higher ranking Members. Most of ours at the Compound were centered around being a “good, obedient companion” and preserving our virginity. I supposed people like them had their own sets of rules within the ones that had already been laid out for others. They had the privilege of such ceremonies as these, where they could make things up and call it devotion.
There was a pause, and although it only lasted as long as it took Gregor to flip a page, no one spoke and the lack of sound burned my ears and throat. When I blinked, staring at the floor below me, my hands didn’t belong to my body. I couldn’t feel myself sitting on the cold floor any longer. Nothing was real and I didn’t know if it was because of the chemicals in my veins or something else.
Then Gregor was speaking again. “Master Elliot Lyon of House Chimera,” he said in what he probably thought was his most commanding tone, but to me it was just loud. “Do you place your hand on this sacred copy of The Grim Order’s Children's and Household Tales —the one you’ve been so gracious to provide for this occasion—and renounce your Ownership of girl number 257 of Compound B31 of the California, USA Compound?”
I swayed on my arms but stilled myself before anyone could see. Of course it was his copy. Had anything about his past been real? Had he been Owned by the former Master Lyon, tortured, and then adopted, or had he always been part of the Chimera fold, the way I’d originally thought?
He answered the question before I could think about it more. “I relinquish Ownership of Doe Lyon, House Chimera, and I vow to uphold and protect the values of the Order.”
I wouldn’t let myself believe the cracking of his voice when he said the name he’d given me meant anything, so I resigned myself to feel nothing. In the instant it took between his declaration and the next part of the ceremony, I became a pretty shell of a girl so it wouldn’t hurt until Jäger cracked me open and dug out all that Master Lyon hadn’t already taken.
I’d been so wrong. A Lyon could be a Vulture just the same as a Wolf. They were just better at hiding it.
“Will the girls please rise?” It was phrased as a question but there was no mistaking the demand. So Odette was here, only a few feet away, and I heard her shoes make contact with the floor.
I wobbled to my feet without thought, listening to the pacing of her steps so I could match them with my eyes still directed at the floor.
I stopped when I was close enough to Master Lyon’s shoes and felt the warmth of his hand on the small of my back. He inched me forward and positioned me where I was supposed to kneel on another tufted cushion in front of him and I couldn’t breathe until he stopped touching me.
“Will the girls look to their Owners for one last collaring,” Gregor instructed.
I needed to shut my eyes for just a moment. Not long ago, I’d wanted to get on with this so it would finally be over, but now everything moved far too fast.
Gentle fingers raised my head to meet his gaze. His eyes remained steady, only looking at me as the ceremony dictated. No sympathy, no secret message. However, I was unable to resist conveying just how angry, hurt, and confused I was, even if I refused to fully feel these emotions for longer than that.
“You may remove the collars and switch,” Gregor said, not even trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.
Master Lyon reached into his pocket and produced the same key he’d shown me on the drive here. He would replace it with the same golden collar he’d shown me, but I was anything but prepared. One small, quiet click and the lock unlatched; a turn of his fingers and the weight of his collar left my skin.
Mr. B appeared beside him, expression unreadable as he held a red satin pillow on which Master Lyon placed the collar. Then without a glance, he walked behind me as Gregor came to our side of the makeshift stage. He had an identical pillow with the golden collar I’d already become acquainted with. Now it made sense how he’d gotten it before now; he wasn’t being forced to come here. He had planned it, just like everything else.
He focused on his task, open the mechanism so he could wrap my new Master’s mark of Ownership around my throat. He lifted my hair as an afterthought, tossing it carelessly over one shoulder before the lock was engaged and my chin was thrust upward so I could look nowhere else but at him.
Though my vision had begun to blur, I saw him. Truly saw him for all he was and all he’d lied about. I didn’t know this person. I never had. He was the same man who had bought me in that abandoned office building, no one else. Another Member capable of shape shifting according to his agenda.
“Girls,” Jäger said, again too loud, yet this time with his eyes glued to me. “Stand and meet your savior, your god, your Owner.”
This time when I looked back to Master Lyon, I didn’t bother to hold back my tears. I didn’t belong to him anymore; I no longer had to obey him.
However, I quickly wiped them away, lingering on his unchanging expression as he stared past me to where his supposed wife stood, so close to being back in his arms.
I wouldn’t let her have my tears, and I wouldn’t let Jäger, Gregor, or any of their friends have them either.
As I turned on my heel, Mr. B was the first person I saw, and he
didn’t pretend to be all right with this, staring at the ground when everyone else watched me with attentive eyes.
The woman taking my place wore tall heels, a gold dress so thin I could make out all of her curves, and her skin was a light mocha. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of me, more apologetic than anyone else in the room. She was beautiful, this woman taking my place. No wonder Master Lyon had chosen her over me.
Then she focused on her new Owner, so I turned my detached head towards mine.
The scuff marks on his shoes, his bony bare ankles among red socks too short, I almost didn’t recognize the wheels on either side of them. I hadn’t been aware the Wolf could no longer use his legs, and the weak old man before me suddenly wasn’t so frightening. At least for the briefest of moments, I was brave enough to meet his eyes.
I’d expected anger and disgust, the promise of revenge written all over his face, but he was just the opposite. He looked back at me through one squinted right eye and a scarred, less flexible left. I’d done that to him, and I needed to remember that. I thought I had done a good job of this, but the blisters and redness I recalled from the day I ran hadn’t accurately hinted at the mass of scar tissue that had become his left eye. I had more or less taken this eye from him. Would he bestow upon me the same honor?
“Congratulations, Master Jäger and Master Lyon.” Gregor’s voice boomed behind me as I lowered my gaze to the floor. “Girls, serve your Masters well, and they will protect you from every evil of the Mainworld. Gentlemen, you may assume Ownership.”
It was a crude version of “you may kiss the bride” only I wasn’t expecting a kiss. The phrase meant more than that: you now Own the girl who ran; there’s nothing protecting her now.
The room was silent except for the same faint music I’d heard before. Beside me, I could hear footsteps, then the gust of air scented with cloves and earth as Master Lyon embraced his wife. Since everything Jäger and Master Lyon had done this far had been identical, I wasn’t afraid to look at the elderly Wolf before me as I waited for a direction from him the way a good companion would.
