The Copper Horse #2 Pride (23 page)

Erik gestured for
Sheppard to come closer. “Do you have a photograph of him?”

“Yes, sir. Here.”
Sheppard walked up to the desk, fishing out a piece of paper from
his jacket. He showed it to Erik and wiped his forehead again.
“Victor Sheppard,” he added, as if he hadn’t already said that
before.

Erik’s brows shot up.
“That is a pretty boy. Would be a shame if he died.”

Sheppard’s lips
trembled. “Mister Dal, please. He is my only son.”

Reuben swallowed,
feeling out of place as witness to such a heart wrenching scene.
Erik turned to look at him and showed him the picture of a pretty
young man with dark, curly hair. “What do you think, Copper? How
hard should I be on Frey for sending such an angelic face off to a
farm?”

Reuben looked up at
him, unsure of what kind of ‘farm’ Erik meant. The moment
Sheppard’s gaze darted to him, he became anxious, as if the
decision suddenly fell on his shoulders. “Maybe there is a way he
could apologize, Master.”

Erik gazed at Sheppard
again and sucked on the spoon of honey, placing the photograph on
his desk. “I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not my brother’s keeper.
He was very upset about this.”

Reuben couldn’t even
comprehend how someone could offer to blow Frey. Victor must have
had a death wish.

“Thank you, sir. I
would be forever in your debt.” Sheppard was on the brink of tears,
and it was painful to watch.

Erik let out a sigh,
tracing the photograph with his finger. “Don’t get your hopes too
high, Mister Sheppard. Frey isn’t the most forgiving man in
Bylondon.”

Sheppard swallowed and
looked at his own shoes. “I trust you will do everything in your
power.”

“Of course. I will
notify you if something comes up. Good, or bad.” Erik straightened
in his chair and ate another spoonful of honey.

Sheppard nodded, they
exchanged a few more words, and Mister Evans escorted the guest
out. Reuben turned on his side and couldn’t stop thinking of how
much love this man must have for his son to grovel with no shame
for his sake. And he did all that knowing his son was a
sodomite.

Erik’s voice was a
cold shower. “Pity on the boy.”

“You know where he
is?” Reuben cowered under his comforter.

“I will.” Erik opened
the top drawer of his desk, taking out a binder. He opened it and
scanned several pages before tapping on the paper. “There he is.
Victor Sheppard.”

Reuben swallowed and
leaned closer to see. “What does it mean?”

Erik gave him a blank
expression. “He’s lost. Someone like him won’t last a month where
he is now.”

Reuben squinted to
decipher the text his master just looked through. There was a thick
pile of documents in the binder, some of them with photographs,
some plain text, but it was too small for him to read. The only
exception was the top of the list in which Erik found Victor’s
name. The thick letters read ‘Honeyhill Farm’.

“Why? Where is he?”
Reuben wasn’t sure if he should be asking about this, but Erik
didn’t shush him. He placed the binder on the side, right under
Reuben’s nose and sighed, staring into space. Reuben bit his lip,
spotting the name of his former friend, Jacob, on the same list. If
Erik sent him there, ‘Honeyhill’ couldn’t be a good place.

“He’s working, but a
pretty boy like that won’t last long.” Erik shrugged. “Damn
shame—he’d make a fine horse.” A cocky smile was the only thing
keeping Reuben from believing Erik was being serious.

“I thought you liked
your stallions big.” Reuben pouted but couldn’t stop glancing back
at the photo of the young man. He was even prettier than Erik.

“I could make an
exception for a beautiful gelding. What do you think?” Erik beamed
at him, undisturbed by Mister Sheppard’s visit. “I could make you
fuck him.”

Reuben didn’t like
that at all. “I think it’s a dumb idea.”

Erik burst out
laughing and rushed to join him in bed. “What about him sucking
your juicy prick? Would you like that? You heard yourself he likes
cock.”

“He might not like
mine,” Reuben muttered. He wouldn’t want someone forced to do that.
“Did he really offer himself to your brother?”

“Indeed.” Erik spooned
Reuben’s side, playing with his mane. “You should have seen how
outraged he was.”

Reuben smirked. He
could imagine. “And... there’s nothing you can do, Master, or do
you not want to?”

Erik slid his hand
down his pet’s chest. “I think that’s not how one should repay for
a generous offer. My brother’s mad.” He shrugged.

“His father was so
desperate...” Maybe if Reuben nudged Erik about it, his master
would find a way?

Erik rolled his eyes.
“Wish my mother was like that. Haven’t seen her in months.”

“I... um... I don’t
miss my father,” Reuben confessed quietly, but before Erik could
react, the door opened with a slam, and no one other than Frey Dal
walked in as if this were his house. The scowl on his face deepened
the moment he laid eyes on the bed.

“The fuck is this,
Erik?”

The butler followed
him in, clearly unsure about the etiquette he should use, but Erik
solved that problem for him, gesturing for him to leave. “Isn’t it
obvious? My stallion had an accident.”

“What? No, I don’t
want to know.” Frey came closer and sat on Erik’s desk. “I’ve got a
job for you.”

“What a lucky
coincidence,” Erik exclaimed, hugging Reuben’s body tight. “I have
one for you as well!”

Frey narrowed his eyes
and folded his arms across his chest. “What?” he barked.

“Your precious
cocksucking boy. I want him back in Bylondon.” Erik cupped Reuben’s
nape, soothingly squeezing his skin.

“I don’t have a
‘cocksucking boy’,” snarled Frey. “Don’t you get enough filth from
that thing over there?” He pointed at Reuben, who tried not to
smirk. He felt safe with Erik, and the fact that his master was
actually trying to get the boy back made his heart flutter. Deep
down Erik was a good person.

“Come on, Frey, don’t
be so hard on him.” Erik shrugged and gave his brother a brilliant
smile. “All he did was pick the wrong Dal—a youngster’s
mistake.”

Frey didn’t even try
to hide his disgust. “Yeah, your blue fingers would be all over
him.”

“Come on, brother. You
scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” Erik reached out and slid his
fingers down Frey’s thigh in a gesture so obscene Reuben felt his
face heat up.

Frey jumped off the
desk and took a step back, almost falling over. “The fuck’s wrong
with you?” he yelled in what looked like genuine panic.

Erik beamed,
undisturbed by the display. “Say ‘yes’.”

“Listen. I’ve got an
important task for you.” Frey took a deep breath and ran his
fingers through his hair. “You do it well, and I’ll get the little
cocksucker back.”

“All right, but I want
that in writing.” Erik slid out of bed and walked behind his desk
again, only to retrieve a blank sheet of paper.

Reuben could see Frey
boiling, and he hid a smile behind a pillow.

“Yeah. Listen, we need
to get rid of Gregorovich.”

“In writing, Frey.”
Erik shoved the page towards him and put a pen on the table. “We
cocksuckers need to help one another. I’m sure your wives would
agree with me.”

“Don’t you dare cross
that line,” Frey grumbled, but he snatched the pen and scribbled.
It was slow, and the writing looked sloppy even from the bed,
nothing like Erik’s work. “There’s a lot of tension around the
Humanists. They’re as strong as ever under Gregorovich, and they
need to be stopped. I thought we could work something out, but he
is one dangerous fucker.”

Erik relaxed. Reuben
had been certain he’d been completely at ease, but now he knew that
wasn’t the case.

“What do you have in
mind, brother?” His intelligent eyes darted up to lock with
Frey’s.

“Mother wants him
gone. It’s all arranged. His suspicious behavior was reported in
the papers quite a few times, and he’s been arrested more than once
before. Make more evidence that he’s mad. There’s a new procedure
they’ll do on him in Bedlam. Lobotomy, he’ll be as dumb as a zombie
after that, apparently, and our hands will be clean. No one will
say he was assassinated, and he won’t become a martyr either. No
one likes a madman.” Frey kept writing, and it was obvious Reuben’s
presence was like air to him. He didn’t care what a horse would
hear.

Erik shrugged, darting
a look at Reuben, but only to give him a calming smile. “I’ll see
it done.”

“Check the newspapers
from the last few months to make it all believable. Sometimes he’s
completely disappeared for days. Those could have been the moments
his mental state worsened.” Frey finally signed the piece of paper.
Erik snatched it from the table and took a brief moment to read
through it before nodding.

“I have all the London
papers stocked, so it won’t be a problem.” He picked up his honey
again. “How quick do you want him removed from the scene?”

“Next week at the
latest. Let me know when you have all the paperwork done, so I can
get it to our contact in Bedlam.”

“Is that all?” Erik
licked some honey from the spoon, the golden syrup pooling on his
tongue. “My stallion feels neglected.”

“Well,
I’m
not
gonna fuck him, so yeah, that’s all. Contact me if you need
anything for this job. It has to be beyond suspicion.” Frey didn’t
even look at Reuben.

Erik blinked, gritting
his teeth. “My work is always perfect.”

It wasn’t the first
time he’d said that in Reuben’s presence, but then again Erik did
take pride in his craftsmanship.

Frey gave Erik an
unpleasant smile. “Less thinking about cocks and asses, more about
ink and wax, little brother.”

“Says the man with
five cunts to distract him.”

Frey tapped his
fingers on the desk, and to Reuben’s astonishment, for once Frey
didn’t lose his temper after Erik insulted his wives. “One of
them’s pregnant. They don’t wanna tell me which one,” he
grumbled.

Erik blinked, losing
his composure. “Oh... did they say why?”

“Yeah, they want me to
guess. Women.” Frey looked at Erik as if he knew anything about
women and might understand. Reuben certainly didn’t, and just
cocked his head.

Erik shook his head
slowly, poking his own lips with the spoon. “Can’t you... feel
something’s different inside?” His eyelid twitched.

Frey frowned and
scratched his nape. “Not yet. But yeah, let’s hope it’s a boy. They
wanna make a bet with me. I have a week to guess which one’s
pregnant.”

Erik leaned forward,
placing his elbows on the desktop. “What’s the prize?”

“If I guess wrong,
they all get jewelry.” Frey sighed and shook his head. “If I guess
right, I get to name the baby.”

Reuben was baffled. A
man like Frey had to fight for the privilege of naming his own
child? Why wouldn’t he do whatever he wanted?

Judging from the frown
marring his master’s forehead, they shared that sentiment. “You
don’t get to name your own son?”

Frey grumbled. “Never
mind. I knew you wouldn’t understand.”

“When my neighbor was
pregnant, she kept throwing up in the morning,” Reuben said, but
his courage disappeared when Frey’s gaze turned to him.

Erik’s eyes lit up.
“See? I told you horses are smart!”

Frey gave them a blank
stare. “I’ll be going.”

“So that’s your clue,
find out which one throws up all the time, and you’ll have your
prize.” Erik took the honeypot to bed, joining Reuben on the
mattress.

“Do your job, Erik,”
was all Frey said on his way out, but he didn’t seem as angry as
usual.

Reuben smiled and
leaned in for some honey. Erik chuckled and pressed the pot against
his face so that Reuben’s nose dipped in the sticky liquid.

“See you soon,
brother.”

Reuben tried to reach
his nose with his tongue, but it wasn’t long enough, and the lovely
nectar teased his senses mercilessly. “Get it off.”

Erik complied, hugging
Reuben with a wide smile. “Did I make the pony angry?”

“I do like my honey.
I’m so happy the boy will get back to his father, Master.”

“That’s where he’ll
return. I can’t have you both competing for my attention. You’d
milk me dry.” Erik wiggled his brows and leaned in to lick the
honey off Reuben’s nose.

Reuben couldn’t help
but laugh. Erik could be so stern and serious at times, yet so
childish at others. “Milk and honey. Perfect combination.” Reuben
grinned at him.

His master yawned.
“You’ll get plenty of milk later. If you’re up for it.”

“Is Gregorovich really
that evil?” Reuben decided changing the topic was the best
policy.

Erik blinked and drew
back a few inches to look him in the face. “He’s not evil, but we
can’t have him undermine our efforts. Sometimes things just need to
be done, Copper.”

That answer was
good enough for Reuben, and he decided tasting Erik’s honey-sweet
lips was better than talking anyway.

When Reuben
awoke, he realized there was someone with him in the hay, but he
was much smaller than Erik. The person also smelled different.
Strange. It couldn’t be Jack either.

There was a low
snort, and Reuben felt smooth hair brushing against the skin of his
back. When he opened his eyes though, for a moment he didn’t know
what he was looking at. There was a young boy staring at him, not
more than five years old, with a mane of red hair just like his,
sleek and shiny. It was the eyes that were jarring. They were pitch
black and huge, with long eyelashes. There was an oddness to the
child’s face. With his eyes very wide apart, he looked strangely
inhuman. The boy snorted again and nudged Reuben’s arm with his
nose.