Leashed (Dark Underbelly Book 3)

by Candace Blevins

  I looked at my hands and realized my fingernails were red, too. He’d filed and smoothed them. It looked like a professional job.

  “Who are you? Where am I?”

  “Ah,” said the older man with the crazy tie, still towering over me. “We finally get the right questions. Do you think you can hold food down, Holly?”

  I’d lost my wallet and ID months ago, but since I didn’t have a car or a job, I hadn’t needed it. How did he know my name? Had they run my fingerprints? No, this wasn’t jail. Where was I? How did they know who I was?

  As if he’d heard my thoughts, he said, “I’ll explain in due time. I believe you can handle some toast and perhaps a few bites of egg. We’ll start slow.”

  I shook my head, nauseated at the thought of eggs. “Do you have watermelon?”

  “I can send someone to the store. What else would you like?”

  “If I get whatever I want, a fruit smoothie with bananas, blueberries, and milk.”

  “We have those items. Can you walk to the dining room?”

  Spencer offered his hand. “I’ll help you up.”

  The boy was stronger than he looked, and he was taller than I’d first assumed, too. I’m five foot seven inches and he was about three inches taller than me.

  He looked fifteen but I had a feeling he was older. His eyes looked as if he’d lived several lifetimes, which told me this was likely some kind of rehab, and I’d been right about him being a recovering addict.

  Spencer

  I helped the girl up and aimed her towards the door. I still didn’t know much about my new Master, but I’d known right away he was a good man. He’d proven me right at first, but now I worried perhaps I’d been wrong.

  I’d spent time here, and then had been moved with the other wolves to the local coterie house. I’d been terrified when a vampire I didn’t know had told me to pack my things, but I’d obeyed. It wasn’t until we were in the car that he’d told me he was returning me to Master Abbott’s home.

  All the shapeshifters I’d seen when I’d been here before had either been guards or part of his flock.

  I’ve been a dishwasher and a fuckboy-pleasure-slave. Nothing else. I don’t have the skills to be a guard. Despair soaked into my soul, but I’d remained quiet and stared out the window at the dark, dark night on the drive up the mountain. I’d hoped things might be different under Master Abbott. I’d enjoyed the time spent learning math, reading, and even all the tests to see how well I could read, what I knew of history, and how much science I remembered. I’d gotten my hopes up I might be more than a fuckboy under this new Master.

  Slaves don’t ask questions, so I remained silent.

  However, upon arrival, Master Abbott had shown me the unconscious girl and said, “You’ve had experience helping the humans detox when your former Master brought them in to be trained as slaves?”

  “Yes, Master.” My heart had fallen into my feet. I had a skill I hadn’t considered, but I didn’t want to have to train his new slaves. Also, I’d believed the gossip and thought Master Abbott didn’t allow humans to be taken as slaves unless they were a danger to society.

  My heart broke at the idea of being forced to help train humans in the proper way to please a vampire. I’d rather be a fuckboy.

  “Look at me, Spencer.”

  I lifted my gaze and met Master Abbott’s cool, clear eyes.

  “I don’t have long before dawn. Have breakfast with my flock and ask them any questions you wish. I’ll put out the word they’re to answer and be honest. I can’t stand the taste of Holly’s blood just yet, but I’ve been in her mind and she won’t wake until we can greet her together. Get her cleaned up and into a gown. My housekeeper will get you anything you need, including a guard to help maneuver her if you need help. We’ll plan to wake her and feed her around four this evening, so be sure you get plenty of sleep before then. Once you’ve talked to my flock and dealt with Holly, you may continue your lessons if you have time before you sleep. If you’d like to work out, any of my flock can show you to their workout room. Again, ask them any questions. They’re all here because they wish to be.”

  A guard had walked me to a bedroom on a lower level, waited outside my room while I stowed my few personal items in the closet, and then led me to the kitchen.

  Every human I spoke to claimed to be there of his or her own will. I knew it was possible Abbott had gone into their heads and made them think they’d decided to live this way, but I didn’t think it was the case. I discovered most of Master Abbott’s flock offered blood and sex in return for a place to live, but some only offered blood. Many were in college, and Master Abbott even paid their tuition.

  They were required to eat most meals at his home or from a specific menu in one of the many restaurants he owned, though they were allowed to eat out with friends as long as they avoided certain foods and weren’t up on the schedule in the next couple of days.

  One of the women had been a drug addict when Abbott had found her. He’d cleaned her up and kept her prisoner six months, but then had given her an offer to stay. She’d refused and moved out, but had come back three weeks later to see if the offer was still open. She’d managed to stay off drugs, but she couldn’t get a job and had no hope for the future. Now, she was three years into her undergraduate degree and felt confident she’d be accepted into the Master’s program so she could be a therapist.

  Everyone I spoke to truly seemed to have their free will. They openly spoke of Abbott’s quirks, but there were far more positive things said than negative. Still, if he’d been controlling them, they’d have never even seen some of the more personal, humorous eccentricities they joked about with affection as a group.

  The way he controls me — a bonded werewolf blood slave — is different than the way he’d control a human. I’m a magical creature and humans are not. He owns me, and the blood bond is like a leash around my willpower. In some ways, it isn’t wound as tightly as I’m used to, but in other ways it feels more like steel than leather. However, the point is, the way I’m bound, my thoughts are my own but I have to do as he orders — or even asks. He’s more likely to put ideas into a human’s head so he can control the direction of their thoughts.

  My old Master had put thoughts into my head when it suited him, but most of the time it was about breaking me. Humiliating me.

  Abbott’s leash so far only pertained to the four orders he’d given me when he’d first exchanged blood with me: I’m not to harm anyone important to him politically, financially, or socially, including myself. I’m not to share supernatural secrets. I’m not to try to escape. The fourth order was more to my wolf than me — a command to stay in the background. I heard the directive but it didn’t seem to apply to me. I could sense the leash, but I didn’t feel it constraining me.

  My orders from that morning were different — more request than command. I was still obligated to do as he’d asked, but it didn’t feel the same.

  I hadn’t argued when he’d said we’d wake the girl at four. My old master didn’t awaken until around six at the earliest this time of year, but I’d heard Abbott was much stronger.

  A guard had knocked on the wall beside my open door this afternoon, and waited until I looked up from my Chromebook to step inside and ask me to walk with him to the observation room. This, too, was a new experience. Slaves don’t get to do things in their own time. Guards grab you and march you to your assignment, or order you to follow them, turn and leave, and if you aren’t right behind them, you’re punished.

  I wasn’t used to clothes, either. I was always naked at my former Master’s home.

  The guard pointed me into a room, and I saw Master Abbott from the back, observing a wall packed with video monitors. He was looking at two screens, both of Holly’s room but from different angles. Master Abbott is beautiful. Tall, black hair, and a chiseled face more beautiful than any master sculptor could possibly create.

  “Ah. I’m about to wake her,” he said with his back
to me. “Will you tell me about your day while we watch?”

  “Of course, Master. Thank you for allowing me the freedom to talk to your flock. They adore you, but not as humans would who’ve been mind-controlled into it. They see the good and the…” Not the bad. I searched for the right word and said, “Quirks. The archaic words you use when you’re relaxed. Foreign phrases you mutter when you’re really pleased or terribly aggravated. Also, you make them feel as if you value them. Birthdays, painful anniversaries when they need emotional support. Favorite meals.” I shrugged. “What do you want to hear, Master?”

  “I don’t want you to fear me when you haven’t done anything wrong. You’re still a blood-bonded slave for two reasons. It would be cruel to release you when you have few skills and no way to make your way in the world as a free man. We could get beyond that, eventually, but unfortunately there’s no way to get around the fact you need me to control your wolf. You’ve never met him and he’s quite feral. This means you’ll likely belong to me the rest of your life, but it doesn’t mean you have to live the life of a slave. You’re mine and I’m responsible for you. We’ll determine what you’re good at and what you enjoy doing. With any luck, the answer to both will be the same. If not, we’ll figure it out.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond. He wanted to give me freedom to be who I wanted? “Thank you, Master.” It wasn’t enough, but it was all I could come up with.

  “Tell me about your day with Holly. What did you learn?”

  “The blonde is natural but it’s been chemically treated a while back, Master. Probably two years? Hard to say, but I’m guessing she had highlights, lowlights, or both. Her nails were in terrible shape. She’s had a whole lot of sex in the previous days — anal and vaginal. Both are raw. I observed and cleaned the external areas but didn’t do an internal exam. Your housekeeper had one of the guards help move her around so I could get her clean without unintentionally injuring her. I didn’t have a camera, so I sketched moles and freckles. I also sketched her teeth, to give us a record of how they looked upon arrival.” The guard hadn’t been willing to answer any questions about Abbott’s expectations, but I didn’t mention his unhelpfulness to Master Abbott.

  “I’m impressed with your thorough approach. We don’t take pictures of people when they’re unconscious if it can be helped. A doctor will see her once she’s awake. He’ll handle the pictures.”

  We watched her awaken in silence. I cringed when she fell, and Abbott put his hand on my shoulder.

  “So compassionate. She’s put herself in this position. How much help should we give her?”

  “One of your flock told me she was an addict when you found her, Master, and said you held her prisoner for six months before you gave her the option to stay or go. Is that what you intend to do with Holly?”

  “It is.”

  “Then we do what we can for her, Master.”

  You know I can speak to you like this, yes?

  I froze at the sound of his voice in my head, but tried not to react with fear. He’s a powerful Strigorii. Of course I’d known.

  I do, Master.

  Feel free to take the initiative with Holly when we go in. If I need you to do something, or to back off, I’ll speak with you this way. I’d like Holly to see you as safe, and me as a bit of a mystery for now.

  “As you wish, Master.”

  He’d watched her a few more seconds, her head completely in the refrigerator, her body sprawled on the floor.

  “Let’s go, then.”

  I’d hated reassuring newly captured humans before, but this was different. I could take care of her knowing she wasn’t destined to a life of hell. If she kept up with the drugs, she was, but it’d be her decision. Abbott was giving her another chance, and I got to help facilitate the chance.

  She let me help her up off the floor, but she pushed me away once we were in the hallway and she’d found her balance.

  “You never told me where I am.”

  “You’re in my home,” said Abbott. He motioned us into a small dining room with the table set for two, though six could sit around it. “Let’s sit so you and Spencer can eat.”

  I would be honored to nourish you, Master.

  Master Abbott had bitten me and had me drink from him every day for nearly a week, but it’d only been to form and ensure the blood bond. He’d never taken more than a few sips. However, those days had made me want to feed him. I wanted his hands on my body, his lips at my neck. And more. I knew the blood bond made me want him, but I didn’t care. I wanted him.

  I wanted to serve him. I wanted to please him. I wanted it to be my blood coursing through his body.

  Your feelings aren’t from the bond, Spencer. We’ll speak more of it later.

  “As you wish, my Master.”

  Holly had been wary, but now I smelled fear rolling off her in waves. “That master stuff is danged creepy.” Her country accent was so thick I had to run the sentence through my head twice to understand her. Master and danged were both said with a long a, and no one spoke like that in Maryland. I’m not sure the vowel she used in creepy is even in the English language.

  The dining room was decked out as if for a fancy dinner party. Or, breakfast party. Fine china, heavy crystal drinkware, cloth napkins, and candles instead of electricity.

  “Whoa. Fancy.” Again, I had to translate FAIN-see in my head to fancy.

  Abbott lifted the domes from both of our plates, set them on a side table, and motioned for us to sit.

  “Holly, you have the toast and eggs, should you change your mind. If not, the smoothie you requested should arrive shortly.” He lifted the domes from several serving dishes in the center of the table. “Spencer, feel free to load your plate.”

  Someone had put a half-dozen fried eggs and at least a pound of bacon on my plate. The serving dishes held biscuits, sausage gravy, and fried potatoes. An assortment of jams was in a little metal stand.

  Thank you for the food, Master. I didn’t want Holly to freak over me calling him Master again, but I couldn’t speak without using an honorific. This seemed the best option.

  You’re welcome. We’ll discuss when it’s appropriate to thank me. I’m responsible for taking care of you, so breakfast is something I’m obligated to provide.

  Not like this, Master.

  “What time is it?” Holly asked.

  “Time is immaterial to you, for now,” Abbott answered. Someone entered with the smoothie, settled it in front of Holly, and left.

  “Is it day or night?” Holly asked. “How much time did I lose? Why are there no windows?”

  “Drink your smoothie, and I’ll give you information on my terms. Sit and stare at it, and I’ll converse with Spencer.”

  I was about to lean in and help her, but Abbott spoke in his head. Give her a little more time to make a decision.

  As you wish, my Master.

  I’m pleased with the attention you gave her while she slept. The nails were a nice touch. They’ve lessened her fear a little.

  Thank you for your kind words, Master Abbott.

  Holly took a small sip, and Abbott told her, “I found you passed out in a wooded area of Miller Park. Eight cents in your satchel, no identification, and strung out on meth — which you appear to have run out of and crashed after being awake no telling how many days. I’ve helped people get clean before, and I brought you to my home in the hopes I can help.”

  “Who says I need to get clean?”

  The Master opened up a pathway so I could hear into Holly’s mind.

  Did you miss the part where I found you in the woods with no money? Abbott asked her telepathically.

  “So? It’s a free country and that park’s public property. I can sleep there if I want.” Even her thoughts had that thick, redneck accent.

  Everyone was silent for a handful of seconds while we waited for her to realize he’d asked the question in her head. When she didn’t, Abbott spoke in her head again.

  How long has
it been since you saw your son?

  “How do you know about…” She stopped talking as fear spiked through her body. Abbott froze her legs so she couldn’t run.

  I’ve been all through your head, Holly. I know you quit school and ran away in the tenth grade, so you only have a ninth-grade education. Your parents hired a private detective when the cops didn’t seem interested in looking for a screw-up kid who’d been failing classes and doing drugs. When the PI found you nearly a year later, your parents put you in a rehab facility. You were released a few months before you turned eighteen and went right back to drugs. They’re raising your son and have had to cut you out of their lives to protect him from your stupidity. You have supervised visitation rights, but you haven’t seen him since Christmas. Your big brother’s been helping you, but now that you’ve stolen from his daughter, it’s likely you won’t be able to crash on his sofa anymore, either.

  She glowered at the smoothie and didn’t drink anymore. Her thoughts were all over the place, but seemed to focus on the fact he’d called her stupid, instead of the rest.

  “You will live with me for six months,” Abbott said, “after which time you’ll be given a choice of whether to leave or stay. If you leave, you’ll remember being placed in a rehab facility to get clean. You’ll remember group therapy. You’ll be happy, and will have plans to stay clean.”

  “Forced rehab? That’s illegal if you aren’t a judge.”

  My former master would’ve slapped her so hard she’d have landed on the floor. Abbott didn’t seem pissed, though.

  “No one knows where you are, Holly. I could keep you forever if I wanted.” His voice was matter of fact with no emotions, and yet it came off as a statement instead of a threat.

  Sharp fear rolled off her and I had to hold my breath a few seconds to keep from gagging on the stench of rotten cabbage and bad eggs. She didn’t look terrified, though. She lifted her chin and met his gaze as if she wasn’t the least bit worried. “You can screw me any way you want if you give me a hit. Cleaning me up isn’t the way you want to go.”

  His spoke with a touch of power. “Drink your smoothie, Holly.”