Read Online The Flesh Cartel, #10: False Gods by Rachel Haimowitz, Heidi Belleau - Free Book Online
Authors: Rachel Haimowitz, Heidi Belleau
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hardly be faulted for loving his master too much, could he?
Wait, hadn’t that been Lucifer’s “crime,” too?
God, he’d even miss Jeremy. And Roger, of course. And that big antique piano in the parlor; he was getting pretty good, actually, and treasured his quiet time to practice. Would his new master have a piano too? Would he let him play?
He realized he’d been standing outside the door of Nikolai’s study, tea tray growing heavy in his hands, for God knew how long while he’d moped and felt sorry for himself. Shit. He’d go in, and lay out Nikolai’s tea, and then he’d fetch the cane from the umbrella stand in the corner, the fat one that left bruises for days, and beg Nikolai to correct him for forgetting himself.
Then everything would be okay again. Everything would be okay and maybe Nikolai would find someone else to keep his stupid awful brother in line and not make Douglas go.
But when Douglas nudged the door open with his foot and rushed inside, Nikolai was too distracted to disturb with a request for discipline, so Douglas just set the tea tray at his desk, prepared Nikolai a cup—one sugar cube, tiny splash of milk—and settled silently onto his knees at Nikolai’s feet. Nikolai was on the phone, visibly bothered by whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying, but his tone was calm and even when he responded. “Yes, I understand,” he said, the crease between his brows deepening, “but you know my work, Allen, and you know that when I tell you he’ll make you happy, he’ll make you happy. He’s one of a kind, Allen.”
Douglas closed his eyes, trying to let the words wash over him. Trying to ignore them outright; a good slave was invisible, after all, never spoke out of turn, never heard what he wasn’t supposed to hear. By holding this conversation in front of him, Nikolai was trusting him to behave like he should. So he wouldn’t let himself be upset, even knowing that right now, Nikolai was trying to sell him. To someone who, apparently, didn’t even want him. But Nikolai thought he’d be a good fit for this man, and Nikolai knew best.
Master knows best. Master knows best. Master knows best.
Besides, Nikolai needed him. Needed him .
“I understand that you’re bored with complacent pups, Allen. And I promise, the man I’m training for you now will fit your exact specifications in that regard. But this other boy is so much more than just complacent, Allen. He’s exquisite.” Nikolai took a quiet sip of his tea; the right corner of his mouth quirked up in brief satisfaction, and Douglas’s whole center pulsed with pride, relief, though equally brief given the circumstances. “Yes. Yes. I understand.”
No mistaking the disappointment in Nikolai’s tone. Did this Allen man not want Douglas even after Nikolai’s reassurances?
God, he shouldn’t be feeling so thankful right now. What would happen if Mat went to Allen alone? Who would keep him under control then? Who would stop him from doing all the stupid shit he’d done here and worse? And what would happen to Nikolai, then? Would people still trust him to train their slaves? He was the best—the best . Douglas couldn’t allow Mat to ruin that. He needed to convince Allen he was worth taking. Not just a complacent pup.
“Well, listen. Let me make it up to you. I’m having a debut party for this new boy, with all the usual clients. Show him off, find him some interested buyers, you know how it goes. Jeremy will pull out all the stops on the hors d’oeuvres, of course, and I’ll pull your favorite Château Margaux out of my cellar. Best of all, your little investment will be there. Not quite ready to go home with you yet, but I think I could arrange a private preview for you. Supervised, of course, but that shouldn’t affect your enjoyment, I don’t think?” He laughed at whatever Allen said in reply, but when Douglas darted his eyes up to Nikolai’s face, the little furrow was still marring
Wait, hadn’t that been Lucifer’s “crime,” too?
God, he’d even miss Jeremy. And Roger, of course. And that big antique piano in the parlor; he was getting pretty good, actually, and treasured his quiet time to practice. Would his new master have a piano too? Would he let him play?
He realized he’d been standing outside the door of Nikolai’s study, tea tray growing heavy in his hands, for God knew how long while he’d moped and felt sorry for himself. Shit. He’d go in, and lay out Nikolai’s tea, and then he’d fetch the cane from the umbrella stand in the corner, the fat one that left bruises for days, and beg Nikolai to correct him for forgetting himself.
Then everything would be okay again. Everything would be okay and maybe Nikolai would find someone else to keep his stupid awful brother in line and not make Douglas go.
But when Douglas nudged the door open with his foot and rushed inside, Nikolai was too distracted to disturb with a request for discipline, so Douglas just set the tea tray at his desk, prepared Nikolai a cup—one sugar cube, tiny splash of milk—and settled silently onto his knees at Nikolai’s feet. Nikolai was on the phone, visibly bothered by whatever the person on the other end of the line was saying, but his tone was calm and even when he responded. “Yes, I understand,” he said, the crease between his brows deepening, “but you know my work, Allen, and you know that when I tell you he’ll make you happy, he’ll make you happy. He’s one of a kind, Allen.”
Douglas closed his eyes, trying to let the words wash over him. Trying to ignore them outright; a good slave was invisible, after all, never spoke out of turn, never heard what he wasn’t supposed to hear. By holding this conversation in front of him, Nikolai was trusting him to behave like he should. So he wouldn’t let himself be upset, even knowing that right now, Nikolai was trying to sell him. To someone who, apparently, didn’t even want him. But Nikolai thought he’d be a good fit for this man, and Nikolai knew best.
Master knows best. Master knows best. Master knows best.
Besides, Nikolai needed him. Needed him .
“I understand that you’re bored with complacent pups, Allen. And I promise, the man I’m training for you now will fit your exact specifications in that regard. But this other boy is so much more than just complacent, Allen. He’s exquisite.” Nikolai took a quiet sip of his tea; the right corner of his mouth quirked up in brief satisfaction, and Douglas’s whole center pulsed with pride, relief, though equally brief given the circumstances. “Yes. Yes. I understand.”
No mistaking the disappointment in Nikolai’s tone. Did this Allen man not want Douglas even after Nikolai’s reassurances?
God, he shouldn’t be feeling so thankful right now. What would happen if Mat went to Allen alone? Who would keep him under control then? Who would stop him from doing all the stupid shit he’d done here and worse? And what would happen to Nikolai, then? Would people still trust him to train their slaves? He was the best—the best . Douglas couldn’t allow Mat to ruin that. He needed to convince Allen he was worth taking. Not just a complacent pup.
“Well, listen. Let me make it up to you. I’m having a debut party for this new boy, with all the usual clients. Show him off, find him some interested buyers, you know how it goes. Jeremy will pull out all the stops on the hors d’oeuvres, of course, and I’ll pull your favorite Château Margaux out of my cellar. Best of all, your little investment will be there. Not quite ready to go home with you yet, but I think I could arrange a private preview for you. Supervised, of course, but that shouldn’t affect your enjoyment, I don’t think?” He laughed at whatever Allen said in reply, but when Douglas darted his eyes up to Nikolai’s face, the little furrow was still marring
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