by L. S. O'Dea
“Exactly what did you tell him, Trinity?” Ray’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Because either he’s daft—and I don’t think he is—or he’s belittling our struggles which could get him killed and would make him daft again, or he wasn’t told everything.”
“Dad was supposed to tell him everything. I tried not to say anything but he got suspicious about why Almightys weren’t in control of all sections of the city.”
“So, you told him what?” Ray waved his hand for her to hurry and explain.
“I told him we were fighting and that we needed his help.” She glared at Hugh. “He refused then like he’s refusing now. Coward.”
“How is not wanting to be responsible for the slaughter of numerous Guards and Servants being a coward?” He leaned toward to her. “You can’t win against the Almightys. I’m surprised that they’ve allowed these little sections of the city to survive, but they won’t if they think you’re joining together to fight them.” He glanced around the table. “You don’t want to start a war you can’t win.”
“Too late,” said Jackson, watching him closely.
“No. Please tell me that you aren’t at war or at least that the Almightys don’t realize that you think you’re at war with them.”
“Oh, they know. You don’t think the Almighys just handed over these sections of the city, do you?” Tim’s eyes pinned him in place. “After news of your findings trickled out, the other classes rebelled, and started fighting for their rights.”
“Rights to do what?” This was worse than he’d imagined. When Trinity had told him that they were fighting, he’d thought she’d meant a few kids, not a real war.
“Like the right to live free and keep our children,” said Ray, the words hushed and harsh.
“I can understand that, but there has to be another way.” Because war with the Almightys was suicide.
“Really? How? Almightys will not cede control, not even a little.” Ray spit on the ground. “They should all be killed.” He smirked. “Present company excluded, of course.”
Ray wasn’t fooling anyone. The Servant hated Almightys and would kill Hugh in an instant, but he wanted something and it wasn’t just help with the war. Ray’s business would prosper with strife.
“We’ve been hunted,” said Trinity. “In the forest and in the city. This area is one of the few that is still held by the Allied Classes.” She looked directly at him, her eyes pleading. “Many have died on both sides but mainly ours. We need your help.”
“To do what exactly?” He still didn’t understand what they wanted from him. Maybe the beatings in jail had softened his brain. “I have no power any more. I told you that.”
“Lead our army. Plan our attacks,” said Tim.
“What? Why would you think I could do that better than any of you?”
There was a murmur amongst the House Servants. Tim looked at Jackson. The Guard shrugged.
“We have noticed that although our class”—Tim nodded at Ray and then the collection of House Servants—“is great in combat and seeing in the dark, we aren’t very good at leading troops or planning attacks.” He looked at Jackson. “The Guards are better at it than we are.”
There was a chatter of discontent from the surrounding Servants.
“It’s true,” snapped Tim. “Lying to ourselves isn’t doing us any good.”
“We may be better at it than House Servants,” said Jackson. “But we can’t compete with Almightys and that’s who’s leading the other side.”
“Plus, the House Servants refuse to take orders from the Guards,” said Trinity.
“That’s not surprising.” He pushed back from the table and started to stand. The Servants behind him moved closer. He sat back down. “Why would they follow me? I’m an Almighty.” His eyes met Ray’s. “One of the hated. Isn’t the point of this war to remove you from Almighty rule?”
“We’re not opposed to working with Almightys.” Ray’s tone was calm, almost pleasant but his eyes gleam with hatred. “As long as you don’t steer us wrong.”
“Will you do it?” asked Tim.
“I...I’m sorry but I can’t.”
“Why?” asked Ray. “You still consider yourself above us, High Hugh?” He almost spat the words. “You don’t believe we deserve to be treated as equals.”
“No. I mean, yes.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Yes, we should all be treated the same, but—”
“But what?” Ray leaned toward him, fangs peeking from under his top lip.
If he’d thought the tension was high before he’d been mistaken. It was almost crackling in the room now. He needed to be very clear, very politically correct. He took a deep breath. “I don’t believe that the best place for me is fighting with you. I should be in the lab, running my tests and proving my claims.” He leaned forward. “I can bring the scientific proof to light and then—”
“Then what?” Ray’s lips curled in a sneer. “Don’t tell me you believe that there won’t be a war if you can offer proof.”
That had been what he was going to say, but it was a fool’s belief. “In an ideal world, yes. The scientific proof would be enough, but, we don’t live in an ideal world.”
Ray leaned back, waving the brunette female over to him. “No, we don’t. There’s no way to avoid this war. It’s too late for that.”
He nodded. Freedom always had a price.
“If you understand this, and you agree with our cause, then why won’t you join us?” Trinity’s voice was soft—confused and hurt at his refusal.
“I’d be of better use in the lab.” He held up his hand to stop the protests from Tim and Trinity. “Proof of our genetic relationships won’t eliminate the battle ahead but it will persuade some to join us or to at least not fight against us and I have no experience with war. I’d be worse at leading your army than any of you.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue. He’d often complained about the shortsightedness of his Guards and their illogical thinking. The House Servants were sneaky and could carry out underhanded plans to steal food or escape from the house, but large scale battles and attacks would be beyond them.
“Your father was a general and an exceptional strategian and tactician,” said Tim.
“My father was an ass. How can you, of all people, defend him?”
“One quality doesn’t cancel out the other.” Tim smiled slightly.
“I’m not my father and military excellence is not passed down like hair color.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I have little knowledge of strategies and warfare.” Another lie. He’d been drilled in those exact subjects by his father. Lucky for him, Tim had been banned to the Servant quarters when his father had been home. “The best use for me in this war is in the lab where I can gather blood evidence and expose the results to society.”
“What good will that do?” Trinity stood, claws out and golden eyes sparking with anger. “They already know the truth. You showed them and they buried it.” She slammed her hand against the table. “Fighting is the only way. Once we win, we’ll make them accept the truth.”
She bristled with righteousness. She was young and innocent and filled with passion. After all she’d seen and all she’d been through, she still believed that good conquered evil and those in the right always won. This fight, this war would change her. It’d tarnish her and break her and he didn’t want any part of it. He forced his eyes back to the others. He was tired and bitter, a shell of the man he’d once been. He hated what High Hugh Truent represented, what he’d accepted without question, but at least High Hugh had been ambitious and passionate. That was gone now, wiped out by deceit. All he had left was vengeance.
Ray whispered in the ear of the petite female by his side and she strolled away.
“You don’t understand the severity of our situation,” said Tim.
“We need your help,” said Jackson.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” They’d risked their lives to free him, but he wouldn’t be responsible for any more d
eaths. He’d filled his quota.
Two young, attractive, female House Servants sauntered across the room. Ray nodded in Hugh’s direction and they walked over to him, stopping one on each side.
“Please, everyone,” said Ray.
The room fell silent.
“High Hugh has made his choice. It’s not what we wanted, but he deserves a choice as much as anyone, even if he is an Almighty.” Ray smiled. “Plus, he is a male and he’s been locked away without any female companionship for”—he turned toward Hugh—“how long?”
Hugh stared at the black-haired House Servant on his left. Her shirt hung unbuttoned almost to her navel and she wasn’t wearing a bra. He swallowed, unable to look away. Even if someone put a knife to his throat, he didn’t think he could stop staring.
“Too long,” said Jackson, chuckling.
“Obviously,” said Ray. “Girls, take him upstairs. Give him a bath and whatever else he requires.”
The females slid their arms through his and led him toward the stairs. He’d owe Ray for this, but even that didn’t stop him.
“Males,” Trinity said disgustedly.
He didn’t care what she thought. He needed this. Some of his college friends had experimented with cross-class mating, but he’d never been interested. Looking at these two beauties, he had no idea why.
CHAPTER 13: HUGH
THE TWO FEMALE SERVANTS led Hugh into a small room with a large bed. It looked soft and inviting and big enough for three.
“Bath first,” whispered the brunette on his right, her lips caressing his ear.
Her hot breath and the earthy smell of her was almost his undoing. It’d been so long. He didn’t want a bath, but he’d do whatever she said. They guided him behind a room divider where a tub filled with steaming, hot water was waiting. He hadn’t had a hot bath in almost as long as he’d been without a woman.
The two females began undressing him, their hands straying from his clothes to caress his skin as it was bared. He shut his eyes, refusing to think about how vulnerable he was here, alone with them. One of the Servants unbuttoned his pants. No matter what happened, this would be worth it.
One of them took his hand, giving him a slight tug. “Get in.”
He opened his eyes and stepped into the tub. Warmth flooded him as he sank down, groaning in pleasure as the heat soaked into his bones. He hadn’t realized how cold he’d been. Both of the females picked up rags and began bathing him slowly, each swipe of the rough cloth a hidden caress. He leaned his head against the tub, closed his eyes and let the pleasure overtake him.
After they were done bathing him and washing his hair, he stayed in the water, his eyes closed and his head resting on the back of the tub. He was full, clean and satiated. He didn’t want to move but curling up in the soft bed with two willing females sounded like an excellent next step. Tomorrow, he’d worry about what he owed Ray and how he was going to fund a new lab, but tonight was for him. He opened his eyes, pushing up from the tub and stopped. The older, exquisite female that he’d seen earlier sat on a chair across from him.
“Come.” She held a large, fluffy towel as her gaze roamed over his body. She smiled. It was a knowing smile.
He grinned and stepped out of the tub.
“I see you are almost ready for another round.” She handed him the towel.
“It’s been a long time.” He wrapped it around his waist.
“Of course, but first things first.” She walked around the divider.
He followed. The room was empty except for them. She sat on the edge of the bed, skimming her hand across the blanket.
“Where are the other two?” he asked.
“I promise, you do not need them or want them. I am much better.” She walked to the nightstand, opened a drawer and pulled out a glass and a decanter. She poured a couple of inches of alcohol into the glass and strolled toward him, hips rolling with each step. Her every movement was calculated for his pleasure. He suspected that she was right and he wouldn’t miss the other two. She stopped in front of him and took a small sip of the drink and then licked her lips. He stared at her lush mouth. It offered so many promises.
She placed the glass in his hand and led him to the bed. She touched his chest—her hand cool on his skin—and gently pushed him down to sit. “Drink and we shall talk.”
Talking was not what he had in mind. His thoughts must have shown on his face because she laughed.
“First, we shall talk. Just a little.” She leaned down and whispered in his ear. “Then, I shall mate with you. Have you ever been with a House Servant?” Her tongue dipped into his ear and he moaned.
“Tonight was my first time.” He took a sip of the alcohol. It was a whiskey, smooth and dark. He coughed slightly, no longer used to liquor.
She leaned back, tipping her head slightly. “What happened in the bathroom does not count. You did not mate. They only pleasured you. No?”
Her eyes had hardened. He wasn’t sure why she cared what he’d done with the other females but it was obvious that she did. “I have not had sex tonight.”
“Good.” She went behind the divider and brought out the chair. She placed it in front of him and sat down close enough that their knees brushed. “I have a proposition for you.”
He took another sip of his drink. She was wrong. He wanted the other two back. They would’ve had sex and then left. He had an idea that it wasn’t going to be so simple with this one. She wanted something from him, but he couldn’t think of anything he had to offer. No money, no power, no home. “Go on.”
“You need a lab. No?”
He nodded. So, she’d been listening in the other room.
“I can get you a lab. You give me a list of equipment and I will get it and a building for you.”
“What do you want in return?” When something sounded too good to be true, it always was.
“We can discuss that later.” She placed her hands on his legs and ran them under the towel and up his thighs, her claws gently raking his skin.
“I’d prefer to discuss it now.” It took all his willpower but he grabbed her hands, placing them on his knees. He couldn’t bring himself to push her away.
She pursed her lips in a pout, sending all sorts of images of things that mouth could do flashing through his mind.
He tossed back the rest of the drink, the burn wiping away his fantasies. “I don’t want to be indebted to you and not be able to pay.”
She took the glass from him and walked to the dresser, promising pleasure with every step. She re-filled the glass and returned to sit on the bed next to him. “You’ll be able to pay. I promise.” She took another small sip of the alcohol, leaning against him.
He refused to play this game. He stood. “Where are my clothes?”
She grabbed his wrist, claws out in warning. “I want you to free my daughter.” Emotions fought for control in her vivid green eyes. Fear. Loathing. Hatred and love.
“Free her from where?” He pulled his hand from her grasp. He’d been clawed enough for one day.
She placed the glass on the floor as she stood and began pacing. “She is being held in the home of an Almighty.”
He was impressed that she didn’t attempt to use tears to persuade him. It wouldn’t have worked for her. She was too seasoned, too hard, but she was lovely. However, her daughter’s situation was the fate of most House Servants. “Is he unkind to her?” Many Almightys considered the other classes as their property, but most of them weren’t cruel to those in their care. Still, if the girl wanted to leave, she should be allowed to go.
“He is planning on selling her to the highest bidder.”
It wasn’t accepted by polite society, but he’d heard rumors about Almightys who used and sold their Servants and Guards into sexual servitude. His eyes darted to the divider and his mind to his bath.
“This is not the same.” She grabbed his hands, pulling them to her chest.
He struggled to free himself, but her grip was str
ong and he liked where his hands rested. “The only difference is that these females are owned by a House Servant instead of an Almighty.” He couldn’t keep the self-loathing from his tone. He’d done this, but she and Ray had orchestrated it.
“They chose this life.”
This time, he did break free, sending her stumbling back a step. “They’re too young to understand a choice like that.” He ran his hand through his hair. They were about Trinity’s age, too young to know better.
“They chose this life because they had nowhere else to go.” She sat on the bed, her face once again a placid mask. “They had no home. No skill. They were on the street when Ray found them and offered his protection.”
“For a fee.” The worst part was that he’d eagerly participated.
“Of course. Everything has a price.” She leaned back slightly, highlighting her curves. “You should understand that better than most.” She picked up the glass of whiskey and walked over to him. “Are you still the High Hugh Truent who dictates the lives of the other classes?” There was a smile on her lips but her eyes were hard like jade. “Who are you to decide how they choose to live?” She handed him the glass and then waved her hand toward the door. “There are others here who cook and clean. Some females do not want to contribute in those ways.”
He took another sip of the whiskey. If they chose to earn their keep in this manner instead of performing other chores, then it wasn’t so bad. “They were given a choice? Truly?”
She stood on her tip-toes, her lips near his ear. “We are all given choices.”
He pulled her flush against him, relishing the feel of her soft curves. “All of us but your daughter? That seems unlikely.”
Her eyes sparked green fire and she almost spit as she pushed away from him. “No! It is not the same. She is a child, not yet having her first courses. Once she does, he will sell her. She has no choice.”
He’d only heard whispers about the black market for young House Servants and Guards. It was a vile trade and he was stuck now. He had to help if he could. “What’s your name?” It seemed odd that he didn’t know it.
