Tears of the Neko (2 page)

Harrison's fingers ghosted over several faint
scar lines that marred the boy's pale skin. He felt the shiver than
ran though the neko's body at his touch.

"He came with those," Farth was quick to
state, and Harrison vaguely wondered what the boy could have done
at such a young age to warrant such discipline that it left scars.
A slave master was supposed to be an expert at wielding the whip or
cane and leaving no lasting marks. They knew how to discipline
without causing lasting damage. Whoever had owned this boy was not
a true slave master like their own Jacob Arnett was.

He slowly walked around to the front of the
neko, eyeing the thin ribs and concave belly with disdain.

"Look at me," Harrison ordered to see what
the boy would do.

He watched an ear twitch before the head
slowly started to raise.

But Farth was annoyed that the boy didn't
obey immediately and grabbed the boy's thin chin and yanked it up.
"He said, 'look at him!'"

A gasp escaped the thin lips at the rough
yanking of his chin, and he swallowed hard as he raised his eyes to
meet the Count's.

Harrison shot a quick glare at the slave
master for interfering in his test of the boy's obedience. He was
sure the boy was about to comply on his own. He frowned as he
looked down. His breath hitched as he met the brightest green eyes
he'd ever seen on human or hybrid.

He gently took the boy's chin in his own
hand, lifting it and turning it as if he were looking for flaws,
checking a parcel for damage before purchasing it. He noted that
the collar this slave wore was a choke chain, and not the typical
solid collar. The boy's neck was bruised horribly from where the
chain had obviously tightened on the slender neck.

He glared again at the slave master. "What's
with the collar?"

"I told you, he doesn't listen. It's the only
way to get him to move," Farth defended his tactics in handling the
slave.

"I see," Harrison hummed as he studied the
rest of the slight figure. He was definitely emaciated and
underfed, as evidenced by the concave belly and visible ribs. But
thin slaves weren't that unusual, as many slave sellers fed their
slave just enough to keep them healthy enough to be sold, but this
one looked even worse than that. "Does he have a name?"

"His former owner called him Kayden."

"Hmm," he looked at the boy. "Is that your
name?"

A slight twitch in the right ear, and the
small movement of the boy's chin in his hand indicated that it
was.

"Show some respect, boy!" Farth snapped.

Harrison had no chance to stop the quick whip
of the slave master's small crop against the back of the boy's
thighs. A startled gasp erupted from the neko. He dropped to his
knees, catching himself with his hands.

Harrison snapped a murderous look at the
slave master. "I will thank you not to damage property that I am
considering purchasing," he growled.

The boy dropped carefully to his knees,
timidly placing his shaking hands on his thighs as he ducked his
head. The sleek black tail swished in agitation.

Farth grinned in satisfaction. "Just needed a
little encouragement, as always. Although he doesn't talk at all,
he can hear just fine."

"So, I guess I can get him pretty cheap,
considering you were going to get rid of him and all," Harrison
smiled at the little round man.

He watched the man's face turn red, realizing
he'd get less than he'd hoped for the hybrid now. But it was better
than nothing, and now he wouldn't have to feed it anymore.

"Yes, my Lord, of course," he gritted his
teeth as he stared down at the little neko. He turned to one of his
workers. "Lucas, take this one and add him with the lot for the
Count."

He watched in amusement as Lucus's brows shot
up in surprise that the Count was purchasing the little neko.
"Sir?"

"The Count is purchasing this one as a prank
gift for the Duke's birthday. Wouldn't that be fun to watch," Farth
laughed as Lucus took the chain a little harshly and pulled the boy
to his feet.

Harrison watched the little neko attempt to
stretch his neck inconspicuously to try to loosen the chain as he
was led away. Well, he'd get Arnett to change that collar as soon
as they got back to the manor.

"Come, my Lord," Farth said, "let us conclude
our business."

Harrison straightened his jacket. "Right so.
I believe I am getting rather fatigued and would like to luncheon
soon."

Really, he just needed to be away from this
stifling place, and he didn't think it was because of the unusually
warm early spring air.

"Got a new batch to collar?" Arnett greeted
him as his carriage pulled up near the stables.

Harrison had directed the driver to not stop
in the front and to just take him around to the back with the
wagonload of slaves and supplies. There was no point in going in
the house first.

"Yes, Damien instructed me to pick up some
new ones for the work on the east wing. Most are good for heavy
labor and building, but I got a couple females to help with the
decorating as well," Harrison stated as he stepped from his coach
and walked back to the wagon carrying the slaves.

"Good, good," Jacob Arnett nodded. He eyed
the fit, healthy slaves making their way easily out of the wagon,
being herded by his son, Rhys, toward the slave's den where they
would be outfitted for their collars and fed.

Even though the market always shackled slaves
as they were sold, he had no worry of any of them attempting to
escape, or even wanting to. Slaves in Marsten were slaves for a
reason--either they were hybrids who had no place in society and no
desire to live in the wilds, or they were humans who lived in such
poverty slavery was preferable. Either way, they were there because
they couldn't survive on their own; they relied on their owners for
food, shelter and protection.

While occasionally there were slave owners
who had had their slaves taken away from them for excessive
cruelty, most owners took their ownership of other beings
seriously. In return, the slaves respected that their owners would
take care of them.

Jacob Arnett had been the slave master for
the Duke of Marsten's estate for over twenty years now--having
served Damien's father before him. In many ways, Arnett was
probably a little too familiar with the three brothers, having
known them since they were all very young. Occasionally, Arnett did
overstep his station, but he was quick to step back into place with
a stern look if he did.

When Damien had taken over the duchy when
their parents died suddenly over five years ago, he had changed
very little in the way things were run at the manor. The servants
and slaves loved working at the Marsten manor because, even though
Damien was tough, he was also very fair and expected his
subordinates to do the same.

In fact, Jacob found his job rather easy for
the most part. He rarely had to deal out any discipline. Five
lashes here or there for the occasional rebellious attitude. But
usually that and the promise that if it continued they would be
turned out and left on their own--with no food or shelter--the
slave's attitude changed quickly.

As the last one climbed down, Arnett started
to follow the last one to get them settled. "Good choices, sir.
I'll go get them collared and fed. I'll send Rhys back to unload
those crates of supplies in a few minutes."

"Wait," Harrison frowned, "There should be
one more."

He noted that Kayden had not climbed down
from the wagon.

"Really?" Arnett peeked in the wagon but
didn't see anyone else.

"Yes," Harrison stormed over to the wagon,
furious that Farth may have cheated him and not put the boy in with
his lot of slaves.

Jacob quickly climbed in the wagon, glancing
around. It seemed obvious there wasn't anyone else sitting in
there. He turned around in the enclosure with a quick glance and
then looked back at Lord Harrison. "I don't see--"

He stopped suddenly seeing movement between
the crates of supplies. He laughed as he noticed the tiny creature
curled up between the boxes.

He turned to Harrison frowning at him. "What
the hell were you thinking, Harrison?" he guffawed. "What am I
supposed to do with that little thing?"

The tall blond jumped up into the wagon and
spotted the little neko curled up sleeping, his black tail flipping
absently and his shackled hands tucked up under his chin.

Harrison grinned. At least he hadn't been
left behind. "Guess he got tired on the trip."

Arnett scoffed, his hand falling on his hips.
"Really, if he can't even stay awake on the trip here, what use can
he really be?"

Harrison laid a hand on the shoulder of the
slave master. "Don't worry, Jacob, he's not meant for the work on
the east wing. I'm giving him to Damien for his birthday."

At that, Jacob burst out into even louder
laughter. "My Lord, you do have a sense of humor."

Harrison grinned wickedly. "I know,
right."

"Alright, well, let's get him out of here and
fed. What do you want me to do with him then?" Arnett reached
absently and tugged the chain to wake the slave.

"No! Wait!" Harrison tried to stop him,
knowing the tug on the chain would choke the little feline.

But he was too late, and the boy hissed and
gasped as the chain jerked around his neck, cutting into his
airway. He tried to right himself and lessen the pressure, but his
shackled hands kept him off balance in his sleepy state, and he
nearly strangled himself as he fell back over.

"What the hell?" Arnett snapped as he dropped
the chain. "Why is he wearing a choke chain?"

"Because Farth is an idiot," Harrison
growled, watching the boy push back up now that the chain had
loosened its hold on his neck.

The green eyes looked up at the two men from
under a curtain of black hair as he knelt at their feet.

"Get up, Kayden," Harrison ordered. "Master
Arnett here is going to fit you with a new collar."

Warily, the boy moved to a crouch, looking
almost like he was going to bound away before he rose fluidly to
his feet. When Harrison moved to exit the wagon, he followed
obediently behind the man.

Jacob took the boy by the arm instead of the
leash. "Since he's for Master Damien, do you want his collar
stamped with the master's personal mark?"

The blond nodded. "Yes, a nice soft leather
collar with silver markings would look good, I think. When you're
done, keep him there until I come get him. I want to keep him
hidden from Damien until his birthday celebration."

Jacob chuckled at the young count. "I can't
wait to see his reaction to this gift. You are very brave,
Harrison. You know he's going to kill you for this."

The tall Count laughed and petted the fine
hair of the neko. "I suspect he will have a few words to say."

****@@@

"Well, well, Roman," Harrison greeted as he
shed his jacket. He hated wearing the ostentatious thing, but knew
he need to look his part when he was out and about. "Are you
finally rolling out of bed?"

His second eldest brother looked hungover as
he sat in the dining room, loading his plate with cold cuts and
fruit. He knew the dark haired young man had been out late at a
soiree at the Countess Priscella's home. His brown hair still
seemed a bit mussed from sleep, his hazel eyes bloodshot.

"Shut up, Harry," Roman growled. "I have a
hard job keeping up with the political alliances and cliques among
our contemporaries. I guarantee that Damien couldn't make the
connections that I do each night."

"I see, drinking and carousing all night must
be difficult."

"It is, my dear brother, it is!" Roman
grinned as he downed a glass of water.

"So where is Damien this afternoon?" Harrison
gathered together some cold cuts to make a sandwich.

"He's been holed up in his study with the
attorneys all morning. It seems like he's getting bitchier and
bitchier, never taking a fucking break. Maybe he should just let me
take over and he'd have more time to enjoy himself," the Marquis
grinned, chomping on a carrot stick.

Harrison snorted. "Yeah, okay. You know
that's not going to happen."

Roman shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it will.
You know he'd be more relaxed if he just let go."

"Probably," Harrison agreed, "But you know he
feels it's his duty. He's not going to burden you with all that
responsibility."

Roman eyed his younger brother. "And if I'm
willing to take it on? You know, so Damien can have a life
again."

Harrison chuckled. "He
can
have a
life. He just chooses not to."

Roman huffed, taking a bite of his
sandwich.

"So where is Damien, anyway?" Harrison
finished slapping together the parts of his sandwich.

"I think that the attorneys just left a few
minutes ago, and that Damien headed out to shoot skeet."

"Shit," Harrison cursed, taking a bite of his
sandwich before plopping it back down and heading toward the
kitchen door.

"What?" Roman jumped up after him,
following.

He hadn't expected Damien to go out and just
hoped that he didn't decide to go by the slave quarters.
Fortunately, the skeet shoot was not near the slave quarters, so it
was unlikely that his brother had seen the new slaves.

"The new slaves are here," Harrison stated.
"Arnett is collaring and feeding them."

"And... Damien isn't allowed to see the new
slaves you got? What did you get--a whole bunch of whores?" Roman
joked, as they stalked past the kitchen staff to the back exit.

Harrison shot his brother a condescending
glare. "No, but I did get one for his birthday and I don't want him
to know."

The tall, handsome Marquis scoffed. "You
bought him a personal slave? Have you lost your mind?"