And the Abbott who came home to me would be made up of the pieces of others he’d kept. I’d appreciate every one of them for taking care of him, giving him life and energy.
“That’s right.” He said with an affectionate kiss to my temple, his cock still inside me, his upper body draped over mine. “And while I may not come home to the mountain every night, if I know ahead of time where I’ll be staying, I’ll have a driver bring you to me when I can.” He patted my right hip and slowly pulled out of me. “Stay put. I have a plug handy.”
I gasped and yelped when the widest part of the plug held me open, and groaned when my asshole closed around the neck. God, I was so full. It’d been months since I’d been plugged and I wasn’t used to it anymore.
Ten minutes later, wrapped in his arms and snuggled under the covers with him, I was still squirming, trying to adjust. Fuck, it was like having his fist up me, reminding me he was in charge.
“My fist will come later, Dearest.” He brushed his fingers over my cheek and gave me a quick kiss. “I don’t intend to plug you often, and I’m only doing so now because I want my cum to absorb inside you so you’ll smell like me to any and all supernaturals who come within ten yards of you. Count on being plugged for two to three hours after I fuck you for the next couple of months. Maybe longer.”
He sighed. “We have about an hour until the dawn takes me. We need to go over some unpleasant details. Safety precautions, since you’ll be with me while I’m dead to the world.”
“I’ll guard you with my life,” I promised, and I meant every word.
“I know, but it shouldn’t come to it. Multiple failsafes are in place, but you need to know what they are so you don’t unintentionally circumvent them.” He took a breath, as if deciding where to start. “Four people can get into this room — Kendra, Gavin, Josef, and Isaac. You aren’t to open the door to anyone when I’m inanimate. Those four and you are the only ones I inherently trust, and they can get in without your help. If they claim they need you to help, get in bed and touch each of the three fleur-de-lis symbols on the headboard, left to right, one after the other. This will send anyone in the bed to the saferoom.”
He rose, fiddled with the footboard, and pointed to the floor on the other side of the bed as it opened to reveal the saferoom. “In the event of a fire the bed will deposit the mattress into it, the trapdoor will close, and all oxygen will be sucked out. If I’m on fire — or anyone or anything else — it’ll be extinguished when the door closes. If you get dumped in, don’t panic.” He pointed to a keypad on a side wall. “Once the fire’s out, punch in zero-two-enter and oxygen will flow into the room. You need oh-two, thus the combination.”
I’d recently had a lesson with an overview of chemistry, or I wouldn’t have understood. I felt him in my head, making sure I made the connection before he continued.
“The mattress slides into the room and settles without too much of a landing at the bottom, no matter what time of day a fire alarm on the lower level happens. If I’m awake I can punch in the code. No one’s slept with me when I’m inanimate for a long time, so no one’s needed to know about the saferoom. However, if you get dumped in when I’m out of it, you might need to turn it on before the system does two minutes after the oxygen is sucked out. Werewolves can easily survive two minutes, but if there’s no fire then you can turn it on sooner.”
He proceeded to show me the saferoom in the bathroom and in the outer section of his bedroom. Those required you to open and close them, since it was assumed Abbott would be awake when in those rooms. If I was using the bathroom when it dumped Abbott in the saferoom, I’d have to go into a different one.
He walked me to a wall and touched a button to reveal the door of a safe. “Because most of the weapons in this safe are either nine-millimeter or forty-fives, the code is nine-four-five.” He opened it and I saw a few AK type weapons, but most were handguns — several magazines filled with extra ammo beside each. “I’m not asking you to shoot one of these weapons, merely showing you where they are should you feel the need to use them for self-defense. Guns are loaded with every other round silver and lead. Magazines are loaded all silver or all lead, and are labeled on both sides with a white S or black L.”
Abbott knew I’d been trained to use guns and forced to shoot people, and I was certain he knew how I felt about it. I hadn’t done it — my Master had used me as a weapon. I was his puppet, with no choice other than to do his bidding. His leash on my willpower hadn’t given me an option. Still, their faces sometimes invaded my dreams and turned them into nightmares.
“I don’t believe I’ll have an issue killing in self-defense. I won’t know for sure until I’m put into the situation, but I honestly don’t think I’ll freeze if I have to decide whether to kill them or let them kill you.”
“Or yourself, Dearest. I’ll have a hard time forgiving you if you let them take you from me. You’re important. You’re valuable. Not as a slave, but as a person. I care for you a great deal.”
“Who’s Kirsten?”
I caught him off guard, but I wasn’t sorry for it. I’d put my questions about her into a shielded portion of my mind so he didn’t know I had them, and I’d asked the question as it came into my mind, so he didn’t have warning.
“Kirsten is still a dear friend, though I lost my chance at a relationship with her by…” He sighed. “I’m used to making decisions for others, knowing what’s best for the people closest to me and taking steps to make it happen. With most of the people in my life, this is acceptable because I’m their Master. However, Kirsten is human. It didn’t work for her and I lost her trust.”
“There’s more.” I’m not sure how I knew, but I’m pretty sure it was one of those times where my wolf let me know. I silently thanked him, realized he might not understand, and visualized giving him a rabbit. I felt his happy response, but Abbott spoke again and I returned my attention to him.
“Yes. She’s studied martial arts and various religions. She can shield her brain so I can’t get in. Not knowing what she was thinking, the inability to bend her thoughts where I wanted them…” He shrugged. “I didn’t realize how much I’d depended on it until I couldn’t do it. I’ve been in your head as an observer a lot, as you know. However, I haven’t put thoughts in your head or changed any of your memories to suit my purposes. For too long, I’ve manipulated lovers instead of doing the hard work of compromise and negotiation. She reminded me of what I was missing in my relationships. Why the ones in recent centuries hadn’t been fulfilling.”
“You still care for her.”
I didn’t ask it as a question. I could tell he did by the way he talked about her.
“Yes and no. She broke up with me. This hasn’t happened in so long, I didn’t know how to act. I couldn’t accept it, at first. Over time we’ve been friendly with each other — or rather she’s been patient with me until I could get there. Now, I consider her both a friend and a political ally. You have no reason to be jealous of her, though you’ll need to know she’ll be at most meetings to discuss the safety of our area.”
“A human attends your monthly meeting of powerful supernaturals?”
“She has skills we need. Not my secret to tell, even though she’s human. The Concilio hasn’t made the decree, but the leading Supernaturals here have, and I agree with it.”
It didn’t make sense, but I wasn’t going to learn more tonight. I changed the subject. “Is there a place I can target practice?”
“Isaac has a range on his property. I can set a night with him, so I can take you and we can both shoot. If you’d like to carry a gun, I’ll buy you what you want and we’ll figure out the optimum storage spots.” He sighed. “You have an appointment with one of my lawyers the day after tomorrow. You’ll have four guards, one of them will drive you in the limo. Jeans or a suit are fine. Whichever you’ll be more comfortable in. Once you’ve had the discussion with the attorney and made some decisions, you can let me know whether you want to g
et a concealed carry license. I’ve ordered two credit cards for you, and I’ll explain when to use each. No limits on your spending, though if you put more than ten grand on them a month, I’ll need a heads up.”
8
Spence
The lawyer walked me through two ways for me to become official — so I could get a driver’s license, open my own bank account, and even get a license to carry a concealed weapon if I wanted.
The first was to wander down the street naked and dazed, and tell the police my original name and birthdate when they asked. I’d claim to have been held prisoner all this time — my kidnappers had drugged me and the next thing I knew, I was walking down the road. I had no idea where they’d kept me. I hadn’t been allowed clothes the whole time. The lawyer would go over which stories I could tell from my days with my former master, as things done to me. We’d say it was a man and woman, husband and wife, and I’d pick two of my master’s former guards we were certain were now dead to use for my descriptions. How they talked, what they looked like, etc. This plan would return my original identity to me. However, I’d be kept in the hospital and then some kind of home for a little while, and watched carefully to be sure I was safe. Someone would likely want to be sure I had a way to survive before they let me go. Sometimes people are sent out to survive on their own, but if the media got wind of it then it’d take a while before I’d be back with Abbott.
The second way involved Abbott purchasing the identity of a man dying from cancer. He was four years older than me, my height and weight, same eye and hair color, same basic jaw and nose. Our eyes and lips were different, but Abbott had people who could insert medical records with a plastic surgeon to show I’d had some work done, should anyone question the difference.
The choice seemed a no-brainer to me. “The second option. Abbott introduced me as Spencer August last night and I hadn’t even known what my last name used to be. My former Master must’ve removed it from my memories.”
“Your name was Michael Thomas Brown. You were known as Mike. Renaming kids while you brainwash them is part of the process. However, you self-define as Spence now, so unless you wish to change your first name, there’s no need to.”
“Why did Abbott introduce me as…” Understanding dawned. “What’s the name of the man who’s dying?”
“Spiros Christian August. Close enough you can continue to use Spencer and Spence.”
“When did Abbott make this appointment? With you. Today.”
“His daytime assistant contacted me yesterday and told me I needed to fit you in today. I didn’t plan to arrive until my first appointment at nine, so I opened an hour early for you.”
Which meant Abbott had decided I’d be Spencer August, realized during our conversation night-before-last that he should give me a choice, and arranged for me to talk to the attorney so it would be my choice without his interference. Also, it would keep him from having to admit he’d already made the decision and was backtracking.
I couldn’t be mad at him. After all, the decision he’d made was the one I chose. We’d need another conversation though, so he’d understand I wanted to make these big decisions with him and not with his attorney.
“Okay,” I told the attorney. “We’ll go with the second option. Spencer August.”
“One more thing. If Abbott were able to make a will, he’d leave you enough money to live comfortably for a century, as well as two of his downtown businesses. However, wills don’t work with a Master of the City because whoever takes him out inherits his territories and assets. He wanted me to explain this to you, because he intends to set up bank accounts for you once you have your identity, and he’ll transfer ownership of two businesses as well. For now, if something happens to him before then, I have access to corporate accounts of his that aren’t associated with his name, and I’ve been instructed to finish your identity change and then find a way to get your name onto the corporate records so you can access the funds.”
I shook my head, but didn’t bother arguing with this man. He was the messenger.
The guards drove me home, I showered, checked on the flock, and sat under a cerulean blue sky on the back deck while I thought. The Tennessee River glistened in the sunlight, tiny cars inched along the roads and highways below. So many lives down there, moving through their day.
I wanted to be here, in this house, with Abbott. Once I had a driver’s license and all that money, I could leave and do whatever I wanted, go wherever I wanted… but I wanted to share my life with Abbott. I couldn’t remember when my feelings changed from respect to adoration to love, but over the weeks and months I’d fallen for him from a distance. Falling asleep with him and then being awakened by him had been a gift.
Last night, I’d fallen asleep with him and then gone through a chamber to get out of his room. It was designed to keep someone from rushing in when I opened the door to leave. I went from his room into the brick chamber, the door locked behind me, I walked ten feet to the end, punched in a code, and a secret door opened to let me into the stairway to the garage. It would only let me out when motion sensors said there was no one in the stairwell.
Now, I fixed three bacon cheeseburgers with all the fixings, took them back outside to eat, and finally went downstairs so I’d be in Abbott’s bed when he rose in the next hour or two. I grabbed my Chromebook, so I could work until he reanimated.
Getting in was a lot more complicated than getting out, though I used the same route. I skipped specific steps on the way down, and pressed about two inches to the right of a barely discernible flaw in the paint. The outer door opened and I was in the chamber, in pitch black this time. My werewolf vision let me see faint marks on the floor. I stepped on them in the right rhythm, which I was told would change weekly. When I reached the end, I looked to the bar ten feet over my head, spotted the lighter marks, and jumped. I grabbed the bar just inside the marks without touching them, squeezed my hands three times, let go, landed on both feet, and pressed my forehead and right knee on the door.
I almost couldn’t believe it opened on my first attempt — I’d had to do it four times before I got it open when Abbott was coaching me.
9
Abbott
I awakened to the sounds of Spencer typing on his Chromebook. I needed to get him a laptop so he’d have access to more tools. Also, he needed a phone. With Eric in Maryland, I wasn’t sure who to ask to teach him, though it was possible I could just give them to him and he’d figure it out.
If I worked out a deal with Brain to teach him, it’d give me an opportunity to introduce him to more of the RTMC.
“I know you’re awake.”
“And how do you know this, dear boy?”
I smelled his confusion before he admitted. “I don’t know. I felt you reanimate.”
Interesting. We’d need to explore that, but later. “What are you working on?”
“A long list of vampires I believe Kendra should be wary of, and a short list of the ones who were there because they were still obligated or attached to their Sire, but who didn’t appear to approve of the way things were done. It’s likely she’s already figured this out, but it occurred to me I have knowledge that might help.”
I sat up. “You do, indeed. Just how much high-level information did you pick up on?”
He shrugged. “I was one of the favorite sex toys. The highest-ranking vampire who wanted me, got me. They rarely guarded their talk when I was around.”
“I’ve been in your head to see what was done to you. I didn’t see or hear…”
He projected what had been hidden, and I suddenly understood. The boy had learned how to compartmentalize memories. This was how he’d surprised me by asking about Kirsten the other night. Also, in this area of his head, I saw what had made him figure out how to do it.
A vampire had seen people making fun of him through Spencer’s memories. It looked like this had been soon after my boy had been put into the sex slave rotations — when he was still young eno
ugh so his brain was malleable. The vampire had beaten Spencer in a fit of rage. As a result, the boy had learned how to wall off certain memories, and how to direct a probing vampire the direction he wanted. Queenie had learned to do this, but another vampire had taught her. Spencer had figured it out on his own. I’d never known of a wolf to figure it out without instructions, but I didn’t see it in his head. I wasn’t sure what else he was hiding, but I couldn’t imagine he’d hide something like that.
I sighed. “You knew when I was in your head? Every time?”
“Not at first. You come in differently, more subtle. I was probably here a month before I sensed you and figured out how you came in. After, I knew when you came back. I watched to see what you were looking for and let you see it. It’d become habit to block gossip, but now I’m letting you see it.”
Had I sensed this ability, somehow? Was I attracted to Spencer for the same reason I’d been attracted to Kirsten? Spencer couldn’t keep me out, but he could decide which memories I saw. No, if he could do that, he could keep me out. It took more control to direct my probes than it would to keep them out in the first place.
“Could you keep me out of your head if you wanted?”
“I’ve never tried.”
“Try.”
I felt him lock it down, and suddenly he was a blank canvas. Nothing.
Leashed (Dark Underbelly Book 3) Page 7
