Bailey Morgan [Seven Brothers for McBride 1] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic ManLove) (13 page)

“Zeth was a thrall.”

“What?” McBride was so shocked he instantly wanted to naysay what the butler claimed. Owning a thrall was illegal for a member of the landed gentry. It was as disgusting as McBride going over to Bailey’s house and removing Ferris from him to use him in his own bed. As cute as Ferris was, McBride simply had no interest in him. What in the world his father saw in one was beyond imagining.

“You can understand now why we did not show this to you when you first came.” The butler lowered his head as if he were ashamed, which was curious to McBride since he was a bot without emotions. His subtle showing of disgrace had to have been programed into him, because the butler was incapable of having genuine feelings of any sort.

“Why in the world would my father have a thrall when he had a companion?” It simply didn’t make sense. All his father’s blood and sexual needs should have been assuaged by his slammers and his mate. “I recently found out my father wasn’t drinking from his slammers, but having Jonas do it. Was it Jonas’s idea to get a thrall, too?”

Again, the valet and butler exchanged glances.

“Tell me the truth now, or I’ll have both of you decommissioned.” McBride kept his voice low, but he filled it with fire. He was sick of having everyone around him know far more intimate details about his father than he did. At this point, McBride would be questioning if he was actually a descendant of him but for the fact they looked so much alike. There was no truth more obvious than he was his father’s clone.

“Jonas bought Zeth,” the butler said. “Your father and Jonas used Zeth for blood and sex. That’s all I know.”

It was more than enough. His father had been breaking the law. Whether Jonas had brought Zeth into the mix or not was immaterial. His father had used him and that made him culpable in the crime. Although, since he was dead, it didn’t matter in the least. The only thing that could happen to his father now was his reputation was utterly destroyed in his son’s eyes. Not that McBride thought his father would care even if he were alive, considering how distant he had been. Not all men showed affection toward their clones, but McBride knew several boys whose fathers had doted on them. But for McBride’s father, having a son was far more a legal matter than one of love and a longing to nurture, especially since McBride had only seen the man once.

“Where is Jonas now?”

“I do not know, sir.”

McBride looked at the valet, who shook his head. “I do not know either, sir.”

Right then and there, McBride knew he had to decide what was more important. He’d had more than enough going on when he woke up, and taking on the job of hunting down Jonas seemed pointless. He was gone with his thrall, and it was highly unlikely McBride would ever see either one of them again. Given the weight already on his shoulders, he decided he’d let that particular problem go. So what if Jonas was breaking the law? He was no different from the thousands who probably did so on a daily basis. McBride wasn’t a fool. He knew the landed gentrymen crossed the lines. The only thing he could do was make sure he didn’t join their criminal ranks.

McBride dismissed the two bots, but he didn’t deactivate them. He set them to find and bring him any personal items owned by his father, his mate, or their thrall. “I want to see everything that’s left.” Not that he thought there would be a lot hanging around the house. Jonas knew when his father died that he had only days to gather his things and go. He’d probably sanitized what was left.

Clearly, someone had taken a great deal of items from the secret closet. There were gaps in the neat row of clothing. Since he couldn’t take it all, Jonas had taken the bare minimum that he would need. McBride realized that there were gaps in his father’s closet as well. Had Jonas taken that clothing for himself or in an attempt to pass his thrall off as a member of the landed gentry?

“It doesn’t matter now.” McBride shoved his curiosity aside. If someday he became a man of leisure, he might pursue the matter but not today. He considered the row of garments and selected the very best items he could for Ferris. Three pairs of pants, three shirts, a sleeping shirt, and—oh. McBride took what he’d gathered out of the little room and tossed it on his father’s bed. He then returned to the closet and examined what he’d seen.

“Oh, my.” McBride held up the curious leather-and-chrome suit. It was like a restrictor, but made for more sensual restraint of a partner. So his father, his mate, and their thrall had been into some very kinky forms of sex. He was on the verge of tossing it aside when he had a sudden vision of Caleb bound up in something similar. His muscles would bulge and the straps would be barely able to contain him. McBride would suck his blood and tease him until Caleb was half-mad with a need for release.

Hastily, McBride hung up the garment, grabbed two pairs of shoes from the neat row under the clothes, and then exited the room. He closed the door then leaned against it. He thought of having the bots destroy everything within, but it would be wasteful and wouldn’t remove the items from his mind. Once seen, it could not be unseen. And given the potential collapse of civilization if a new virus were unleashed, he would need everything he had to keep himself and his men alive.

With the clothing bundled up in his arms, McBride exited the house. The very first thing he saw was Caleb. He’d peeled his
tallos
suit off his shoulders and down to his hips. Sweat gleamed over his powerful bronzed body. As McBride considered his stunning form, he thought that maybe perversion ran in the blood, because all McBride could think of was trussing Caleb up for their very mutual and law-breaking pleasure.

McBride had kept his word and brought Ferris some temporary clothing. As angry as Bailey was that he couldn’t buy him a closet full of fine new things, he didn’t say anything but
thank you
after his outburst this morning. Generally, McBride had been a kind and considerate master. Only in the last day had he turned sour. Something was wrong, but Bailey couldn’t ask because it would be rude of him to pry into McBride’s private life. He just hoped that whatever was causing him distress was over soon so things could go back to normal.

All of those thoughts fled from his mind when night fell and the time to bloodbond to his companion came. Anxiety pushed up Bailey’s pulse, making him shake as he washed the fine, black dust off his body. Remembering what had happened last night, he brushed his teeth before leaving the bathroom. He was perfectly clean and ready.

Bailey entered the bedroom and found that Ferris was waiting for him. He was lying in the center of the bed with his eyes closed. McBride was sitting on the edge of the mattress, fully dressed, his eyes more careworn than normal. For a moment, Bailey considered calling the event off. McBride looked ready to fall asleep at any moment. However, Bailey’s genuine concern for his master was pushed aside by his dire hunger for his mate. Today, while he’d been working in the field, he’d noticed that his canines had extended and the tips of them itched. The feeling wasn’t unpleasant, but more sort of strange. As the day progressed, the itch deepened into a powerful craving. It wasn’t the need to feed for nourishment, but a longing to cement his ownership of his mate.

“Are you ready?” McBride stood and moved toward the doorway.

Swallowing hard, Bailey nodded.

“If you have any doubts, now is the time to state them.”

“No doubts.” Bailey looked at Ferris, and his heart did a funny little flip-flop at the mere suggestion of letting him go. “I’m ready.”

Ferris stayed right where he was, took a deep breath, and whispered, “I’m ready.”

“Stand at the end of the bed, Bailey.”

As soon as Bailey got into position, McBride turned off the lights. There was a flash of fire in the dark as McBride flicked a lighter and touched it to a black candle. As the wick caught the flame, it sputtered then grew solid. McBride placed it on the left bedside table.

“This is for the binding of the body.” McBride pocketed the lighter, took a white candle, lit it off the black candle, then placed it on the right bedside table. “This is for the binding of the soul.” From that candle he lit a red one and placed it on the dresser across from the bed. “This is for the binding of the blood.”

Bailey waited for his eyes to adjust to the flickering light. His mate looked almost peach colored in the candlelight. Little dots sparkled along his skin. And now Bailey understood what the strange bar of soap was in the shower. McBride must have given it to Ferris so he could do something special for tonight. Glitter made his flesh seem even more special than it already was.

“Sit up, Ferris.”

He moved with the grace of a petal dancing in the wind. Once he was vertical, McBride got behind him. With an economy of movement, McBride removed the pink collar around Ferris’s neck. Tenderly, he kissed the spot above his jugular vein. A momentary surge of jealousy tightened Bailey’s chest, but it vanished as quickly as it had risen. McBride was only following his part of the ritual.

“I freely give what I have bought to you.” McBride rose and handed Ferris’s collar to Bailey.

Bailey stood there, holding the small scrap of pink leather, feeling the heat from Ferris’s body against his palm. He felt tears threaten and blinked them away. “I am so blessed.” Saying it wasn’t a part of the ritual, but Bailey felt that he owed an enormous debt of gratitude toward his master. McBride had been short and annoyed this morning, but he had been very indulgent the night before. Bailey didn’t think there were many landed gentrymen who would have taken the time to show him how to handle his companion with such care and compassion. “You are kind and gracious to me. I will gladly follow you for the rest of my life.”

“Thank you.” Clearly touched, McBride smiled and nodded. Whatever the issue was this morning, it was still there, but McBride seemed more than willing to let Bailey’s show of defiance drop. That was one of the best things about his master. McBride didn’t hold a grudge. “When you’re ready, Bailey, climb up onto the bed and sit across from your chosen.”

Bailey considered the collar in his hand for a moment then turned, placing it on the dresser with the red candle. When he turned back, he caught Ferris licking his lips.

“Are you nervous?” Bailey asked. A burst of doubt made him offer, “If I am not what you want, you should say.”

Ferris startled back just a bit.

“I know that my master was very generous to give you to me, but I will not bind you to me unless you’re sure that you want me.”

“Do you love me?” Ferris met Bailey’s eyes, and he looked so tormented it almost broke Bailey’s heart. “You do not have to love me completely, but even a little bit would reassure me that full love could bloom between us.”

“I think I am starting to fall in love with you.”

Ferris looked slightly disappointed but hopeful nonetheless.

Bailey could barely contain himself from bursting out with a dozen explanations for what he’d said. “When I first saw you sitting in front of my master on the
dressiter
, I swore that if he gave you to me, I would forever after be his willing servant because you were so beautiful. The sunlight gleamed against your dirty-blond hair, but it was your copper eyes that riveted my attention.” Drawing a deep breath, Bailey confessed the truth. “I dreamed of a mate with molten-copper eyes. But then, you came into my home, into my bed, and it was so much more than what you looked like.”

“Truly?”

“Oh, yes.” Bailey placed his hand against his heart. “You were submissive and sweet. Even though you were afraid, you trusted McBride and me to show you the way. Willingly you gave yourself to me. You honored me with your trust.”

“You treated me as if I were of the finest spun glass.”

“Because you are.”

Ferris smiled.

“Even today, at first meal, when you stood up to me, you did so with honor.”

Ducking his head, Ferris looked away. “I should have submitted to your will.”

“No!” At Bailey’s cry, Ferris lifted his head and met his searching gaze. “I will own you after this ritual, but you should never be anything but who you are. I am proud that you questioned me. You didn’t openly defy me in front of others. You talked to me in the privacy of our kitchen.” Bailey sighed. “Just as McBride said, we should do what we feel in the bedroom, you should say what you feel in our kitchen. Or here. I do not want to destroy who you are.”

Tears filmed Ferris’s stunning eyes.

“I have hurt you?”

“Not at all.” With a hasty motion, he wiped both his eyes. “Everything you’ve said only makes me realize that I am starting to fall in love with you, too.” Ferris lifted his arms as if he would embrace Bailey.

In the golden light, Ferris’s molten-copper eyes seemed even more becoming. Though Bailey had already known him fully, sexually, he felt that this was once again their first time. In many ways, it was. Easing his way up onto the bed, Bailey eventually settled himself crossed-legged across from his special mate.

“Take his hands in yours.” McBride’s voice was husky, but Bailey was too enchanted to spare him a glance. Bailey reached out and clasped Ferris’s hands. They were warm but not sweaty, indicating he was as expectant as Bailey. “You may kiss him if you wish.”

Like they had this morning after their brief argument, they were eager to press close to reassure one another. Bailey leaned into Ferris as he moved closer. They met in the middle and kissed. Ferris’s lips were soft, urging Bailey to open his mouth. When their tongues touched, he was stunned that his mate tasted sweet. Not overly so, only slightly, but it was like the glitter that turned his pale skin golden. All it did was make the moment more memorable.