Tears of the Neko (3 page)

"Well, more like a companion," Harrison
stated.

"Ooh, you got him whore, even better!" Roman
laughed.

"He's not a whore," Harrison snapped.

"He?"

"Yes, it's a male neko," the blond stated as
they made their way closer to the slave den. Rhys, Arnett's son,
had several of the slaves gathered in the outdoor exercise yard.
Some of the newly collared ones were there as well.

"Ooh, is it that one?" Roman asked, pointing
to a tall, broad feline hybrid with a long burnt orange tail and
brassy hair and ears.

"No."

A loud blast erupted in the air as they heard
the shotgun fire and the splintering of a skeet plate.

"Fuck!" they heard Arnett shout from the
other side of the building. As they exchanged quick looks, they
darted towards the cursing slave master.

"Almost had him too," Arnett growled as he
paced by the tree in the yard, talking to himself. "I'm gonna whip
his ass so hard...."

"What's wrong, Jake?" Roman scanned around
the slave yard but didn't see anything amiss.

Arnett turned a glaring eye on Harrison, not
caring at the moment how insubordinate he might seem. "Now I know
why he had the choke collar on."

"What?" Harrison frowned.

Arnett pointed to the tree. Perched halfway
up the oak was the little neko, clutching the branches.

"What the hell?" Roman squinted at the little
figure. "Is that a slave?"

"Oh, shit," Harrison breathed. He could see
Kayden hugging the tree, shaking, eyes squeezed shut.

"Yes, it's a slave," Jacob growled in
frustration, then added quickly, "sir," before the marquis
noticed--while Harrison and Damien didn't care how informal he
might be, Roman would.

"Did he think he could escape by climbing a
tree?" Roman stared in shock. He'd never seen a neko slave climb a
tree before, even if they were feline in nature. Usually they were
too big and cumbersome to bother.

"No, sir, I was changing his collar, and then
his Grace started shoot the fucking skeet, and the little brat
startled and ran up the damn tree," Arnett snapped, too angry at
the moment to check his tone with the young lords. "He's so
skittish, he needs to be chained or leashed to keep him from
running off."

Roman started laughing loudly, too amused to
care about the slave master's tone, and slowly Arnett joined him,
realizing just how crazy the situation was.

"Tell me, brother, is that the birthday
present?" Roman gasped between breathless laughter.

"Yeah," Harrison grinned, glancing up at the
little neko, who had opened his eyes and was peering down at them
now. "What do you think?"

"Oh, yeah, Damien's just gonna love you."

"Every time I get him to start down, his
Grace blasts another skeet plate and he scampers back up," Arnett
sighed.

Roman could barely breathe, he was laughing
so hard. "Jesus, Harry, what were you thinking with that
thing?"

"Kayden!" Harrison called up to the boy.
"Come on down here!"

When he saw that the ebony haired boy had
moved and started down the tree again, he turned to his brother. "I
thought maybe he might make Damien lighten up a bit. If nothing
else, it will be a great laugh on his birthday when he sees the
boy."

"If he doesn't kill it first," Roman joked,
as they watched the boy deftly making his way down.

Arnett moved closer to grab the boy as soon
as he was down, but another shotgun blast sent the boy skittering
back up.

"Shit!" Arnett cursed.

"No!" Harrison shouted at the same time.

Roman just started laughing even harder.

"Kayden, get down here now!" Harrison yelled,
getting frustrated as well. If this kept up, Damien was sure to see
him when he came back up towards the house and wondered what the
commotion was in the slave yard.

"I don't know," Roman waved, "I say leave him
there. He'll come down eventually or starve."

Harrison just glared at his older brother who
apparently found the whole situation amusing. Then he turned back
to the boy clutching the tree. "Kayden! Get down here right now or
you're going to be punished!" he yelled out of frustration.

All three men gasped as the little feline
practically dropped out of the tree in a couple of well placed
leaps. In the next minute, he was crouched at their feet, shaking
in fear, ready to dart.

Arnett quickly grabbed the thin arm of the
boy and dragged him to the nearby work bench where he had the
collars and his tools laid out.

"My lord, can you hold him for a second?"
Arnett requested, instinctively taking a slightly more deferential
tone with Roman who demanded it more often than the other two
brothers.

"Gladly," Roman grinned, looming over the
small creature. His fingers gripped the thin bicep. "He's kinda
cute, Harry. I wouldn't mind having one of these myself. Hey, if
Damien doesn't want him--"

Arnett turned to the table to get the collar
and lock as another shot echoed over the hills. The neko jerked
violently in Roman's hold.

"Fuck!" Roman cursed, almost letting go of
the thin arm when claws scraped across his forearm, drawing blood.
Anger flared across the man's face as he righted the boy struggling
in his hands. A flash of hate spiked in the marquis's eyes at the
thought of being attacked by a slave. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

He suddenly backhanded the neko across the
side of the head, eliciting a squeak of pain as the boy dropped to
the ground. Arnett reacted quickly and placed his booted foot
across the neck of the slave before he could escape again.

"My lord! Are you okay?" Jacob exclaimed.

"Roman!" Harrison jumped forward, at the
sudden outburst of anger by his brother.

"I'm fine," the sandy-haired nobleman
growled, glaring down at the tiny ebony-haired slave. He dabbed at
his arm. "The brat attacked me!"

"I think it was an accident," Harrison
mumbled back, while Arnett straddled the boy's hips to keep him in
place. He could feel the harsh breathing of the boy's lungs under
him.

"Give me the collar and lock, sir," Jacob
demanded of the younger brother, heedless of the formalities of
rank. After Harrison tossed him the collar, he quickly strapped on
the leather collar with a silver tag, locking it in place. He
snapped the leash in place on the silver ring and stood up before
the next shot rang out.

Fortunately, Arnett had a hold of the chain
this time, so when Kayden darted at the loud blast, he didn't get
far, snapping to the end of the chain and falling to the dirt
again. When escaping from the open area didn't work, he scampered
under the table.

Roman glared at his younger brother, then
looked at the exhausted slave master. "I don't know, Arnett. I
think this one's not worth it, he's too unpredictable. Maybe we
should just put him down."

Arnett froze and glanced at Harrison, whose
eyes had clouded with uncertainty as to whether he should give up
his birthday plan. He looked up in surprise at his older brother's
statement.

"My Lord?" Jacob looked to the younger noble
for instruction, who was silently studying the shivering figure who
was looking at him with bright green eyes from under the curtain of
ebony.

Roman's eyes darkened at having his authority
questioned when the slave master looked to his younger brother.
"You do realize my orders outrank my brother's, Arnett."

Jacob straightened suddenly, worried about
having angered his lordship and overstepping his bounds. "Of
course, sir."

"But this one is mine," Harrison snapped
back. "He's not one of the general household slaves."

"He's still a slave," Roman argued, rubbing
his arm. "And dangerous."

"Bullshit, Roman," his brother spit. "He's
just scared at the moment. And he's my gift to Damien. I'll not let
you destroy him before I give him to Damien. If Damien doesn't want
him after that, then we'll see."

The tall noble glared down at the neko, whose
ears drooped back. The thin creature slowly slinked toward Roman's
feet submissively, while Arnett kept a tight hold of his leash. The
neko rose slowly into a low crouch before leaning in.

Roman eyed the feline warily and was shocked
when tiny hands grabbed his arm and a moist tongue slid over the
scratches. He jumped back, shoving the boy away from him.

"What the fuck?!" Roman sputtered, wiping
furiously at his arm as the boy stumbled then fell to his knees,
dropping his head to the ground. "How dare you touch me without
permission?!"

Arnett started laughing, and Harrison held
back a chuckle behind his hand.

"Sorry, my lord," Jacob apologized, sobering
quickly in the face of the marquis's wrath. "It's just their way of
cleaning. He's basically saying he's sorry and trying to help you
with the wound."

Roman scowled.

Arnett cleared his throat and resumed his
stern stance. "Would you like him punished, sir? Or..." he paused,
not wanting to remind the Marquis of his demand to kill the
boy.

"Roman," Harrison nearly begged for the
neko's life, but he knew his brother needed to feel in control,
powerful.

"Fine. You can keep him for now, Harrison.
But he stays locked up. And if there's any more trouble from him,
I'll make sure he regrets it."

He turned and started to stomp back to the
main house. He paused, turned and smiled. "Oh, and it sounds like
Damien is done shooting, so you might want to hurry up and hide
your little present."

Harrison cursed under his breath as he
realized they hadn't heard any more shots being fired. That meant
Damien would be returning to the house soon and he ran the risk
that his brother might see the neko.

"Good luck with this one, my lord," Arnett
laughed, tugging the neko up to his feet, relaxing now that the
Marquis had made his departure.

"He's just a little scared right now," the
Count grinned. "He'll settle down soon. Let me get him inside and
cleaned up."

Jacob handed over the leash, smiling at the
easy-going young man. "Keep a hold of that. I would recommend
locking the chain, so he doesn't dart off again."

****

"That was good shooting, my lord."

The tall, dark Duke grunted at the Captain of
his guard as he handed over the reins of his beautiful black
stallion to the stable groom.

"Maybe you need to go for a run too, my
lord," Captain Brenner teased, sensing the tension in his master.
"Or we could arrange a little sparring match?"

Damien glared at his guard. The man followed
him anytime he left the immediate vicinity of the manor house, and
Damien trusted him with his life. But the man could be annoying
too.

"Geoff, you really don't want to offer me the
opportunity to beat the crap out of you right now," Damien warned.
The meeting with the solicitors for the northern plantation had not
gone well, and he was in no mood to play nice. Not that he usually
was anyway.

Geoff Brenner grinned, slapping his lord on
the back. He was well versed in all of Damien's moods, and today
the man was in a particularly dark one.

"Well, then, maybe I'll just come with you
and grab something to eat," the captain cajoled, knowing that the
Duke was probably looking to get rid of him--but the captain hated
to see his lord so alone all the time.

Damien just glared at him and set off at a
quicker pace, silently cursing the man and his need to not let
Damien be alone. He was glad when Geoff took the hint and kept his
pace a few feet back.

Damien just rubbed his hands through his rich
black hair, trying to find some tiny bit of the peace and
complacency he'd had before their parents had been killed. It had
been years since he'd felt any measure of true leisure and
contentment. Since his father's passing, he worried constantly over
making life easier for his brothers and fulfilling his duty to his
uncle, the king.

Today, he'd been frustrated with work that
had stalled on one of the plantations and had needed a break. And a
release of his frustrations. Skeet and riding on Jester were his
most common outlets. Sometimes he enjoyed running or swimming in
the lake as well, but he knew Captain Brenner loved a good ride
better, and since the captain of his guard insisted on going with
him whenever he ventured too far from the manor house, he tended to
defer to something they'd both enjoy.

On his way back from skeet shooting, he
figured he'd stop by the slave barracks. He knew Harrison was
supposed to pick up more help for work on the East wing, so he
detoured by the slave den and was surprised by how flustered the
slave master appeared. Jacob Arnett didn't usually get wound up
over much of anything. Most of the slaves behaved well, enjoying
the freedom of not having to worry about where their next meal
would come from or if they would be warm that night.

So it was rare that Arnett had to deal with
any problems. At most, it might be a couple of lashes for fighting
with other slaves or servants, or maybe a slave who had stolen
items. Since slaves could request their freedom after a year of
servitude, they didn't usually have to worry about runaway slaves,
unless they were stealing in the process. Slaves that ran away
without asking for their freedom were usually tracked down, checked
for stolen items, and their collar removed before they were
imprisoned for theft.

In their society, the slave collar offered
many protections--food, shelter, clothing--but it also told people
outside the estate (should a slave be sent on errands off the
manor) that the slave was acting on behalf of his master. If the
slave requested items from the tailor or baker, or such, the collar
acted like payment as the business man would know who to send the
charge to. So occasionally, a slave might try to runaway after
being collared in an attempt use the collar to get items for free
and had to be tracked down.