Prologue

 

The woman knelt before him on the soft pillow, her head bowed in total submission. Three months in training and she’d shown herself to be one of the quickest and most graceful he’d ever had the privilege to teach. Her short hair, growing out from its initial shaving, curled around her head in tight curls to frame a pixie-like face. A face now bent towards the floor, her arms resting behind her back, her knees spread wide to show her master her offerings. Yes, indeed. This one would bring a high price at auction tomorrow.

Her trainer smiled and stood. “Good, little one. You are ready.” He took a step towards the door, pausing beside her one second too long. A fast movement and pain shot through his arm as her teeth sank in, breaking the skin. He hollered in surprise and grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.

But she didn’t let go. Her teeth sank deeper, blood spattering her face as she attempted to wrest a large chunk of skin from his arm. She gnawed like a dog, shaking her head, intending to damage him.

So docile, so obedient she’d been after the first week; he wasn’t prepared for her attack. With an oath he pushed her to the floor, wrestling to get his free hand around her throat. Instinctively he understood that trying to pry open her teeth would only get his fingers bitten off. He went for her throat instead, wrapping his hand around her slender neck. Squeezing tight, he noted the panic in her eyes as her air was cut off. She could neither get rid of what air she’d sucked into her lungs nor pull in fresh. After several long seconds, her jaw relaxed as her eyes rolled back in her head.

Prying her teeth out of his arm, he let her fall onto the pillow, staggering up and jabbing at the intercom. The blood flowed in spurts, which meant she’d gotten an artery.

“Traitor,” he managed to croak into the intercom before he slid down along the wall, the world going dark.

Chapter One

 

Len looked over the offerings of the slave auction. Usually here to sell, today he and his boss Jake had come empty-handed. It wouldn’t do, however, for Jake to lose contact with the men who bought and sold here on a regular basis. They tended to be a fickle lot, skittish of the law while flouting it. Men whose good side you always wanted to stay on the right side of.

He and Jake now meandered around the nearly-empty warehouse, idly looking over the items on display. Though a different warehouse was used each time, Len had gotten used to the same feel each auction shared. A cold, somewhat drafty space with widely-spaced posts and high rafters overhead, naked slaves bound in some fashion at the whim of their owners but always on the platforms that ringed the seating area – platforms high enough for all to see. Depending on their placement around the open space, one could tell the slave’s expected value. Closer they were to the front by the stage, the more money the slaves were expected to fetch.

Jake’s slaves always held a place of prominence. Len glanced at his boss as they sauntered with apparent casualness. Although he and Jake were nearly the same height, there the similarities ended. Where Jake’s healthy head of black hair curled over his ears, Len’s bald pate glimmered in the dim lighting. His own frame had run hundreds of yards as a linebacker in his youth, a sport he doubted his boss had ever played. Jake’s physique seemed more suited to tennis and golf. Yet Len knew full well the deceptive strength of his boss’s muscles, though they were currently hidden under a crisp white shirt, the sleeves neatly buttoned and hiding a wound only Len knew was there.

“Jake, no sale this time ‘round?”

A tall, slender man stepped away from the slave he’d been inspecting and approached them. Jake put out his hand in a friendly greeting.

“Joseph, a pleasure as always. You remember Len?”

Josef, looking Nordic and regal, shook hands with Len. “Of course. Good to see you again.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Although he wanted to ask after the slave they’d sold at the last auction, Len kept his mouth shut. He had no illusions about his role here. Jake was boss, he was muscle. His job was simply to watch and learn. And one thing he’d learned was to keep his questions to himself. There’d be plenty of time to ask Jake in private later.

“So, no slave this time? Why? I can’t remember the last time you didn’t have someone trained and ready.”

“I’ve been shorthanded. You know Tony died?”

Josef’s face fell. “No, I didn’t. I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. He was a good man.”

“How did it happen?”

“His heart gave out on him. Went to bed with indigestion one night in the middle of the winter and didn’t get up the next morning.”

Josef shook his head. “Hard. But that’s the way I want to go. Old and comfortable and in my sleep.”

Len saw the tight smile on Jake’s face. Although Tony had been in Jake’s employ, Len knew the old man had been more a mentor to Jake than an employee. With the old man’s contacts in the underworld of gangsters and mobsters, he’d taught Jake ways to finesse his business that had reaped many monetary rewards.

But Tony was gone now and Carl, their last recruit, hadn’t worked out well. Again Len was tempted to ask about the slave they’d sold to Josef, but again he pushed down the thought when Jake changed the subject.

“So, Josef, you selling any tonight?”

“No, no.” The tall man chuckled. “Only auctioneering as usual. By the way, that slave you sold me before – the fucktoy? She’s very, very good. You outdid yourself with her.”

Len beamed with pride. He’d liked the last woman they had; he’d been glad to see her go, as his heart had started to become entangled. Jake’s rule had never made more sense: slaves must be out to auction within three months of capture. Longer than that, Len realized, and friendships formed, relationships developed and putting a slave out for auction became difficult. Josef’s fucktoy had come far too close his heart. And while a part of him wished he could still be enjoying her favors himself, Len was grateful to hear she did well under Josef’s domination.

“Good to hear. Always great to know a slave meets expectations.”

A small bell chimed from the area of the stage and all three glanced in that direction. Josef held out his hand. “I must go. Everyone’s gathering. Come to dinner afterward?”

“Thank you, we will.”

Len watched Josef make his royal way to the stage, stopping to greet both men and women who approached him to give their regards. The man had been running these semi-annual auctions for over a decade and knew every single person now headed toward seats as the auction prepared to get under way.

“No slave tonight?”

Len turned at the deep voice, the oily implication dripping from the man’s three words.  He felt Jake stiffen beside him before turning to face the man neither liked and both knew better than to cross. Neither the three-piece suit nor the black hair tied in a neat ponytail, not even the debonair ease with which the man moved, could hide the cruelty that emanated from his slender body. Len knew Jake had business dealings with the man before, but also knew the man could be dangerous on many levels. Even as he went on his guard, Jake had his hand out.

“Salah, I thought you might not make it tonight. Rumor has it you’re in hot water at home.”

The dark man waved one hand in dismissal as he shook Jake’s hand with his other. “It is nothing. I throw a little more money into the right laps and it all goes away.” His voice dropped as he leaned toward Jake. “Or perhaps I throw them a problem I got rid of for you? He screams so very nicely when I whip his cock.”

Len suppressed the malevolent smile that threatened to escape the servant demeanor he tried to project. Carl had become a problem for them when he decided he didn’t need to follow Jake’s orders in training a slave. One time could be forgiven, two times elicited a punishment. A third offence meant being sent – elsewhere. Jake wasn’t a killer, even though Tony had given him advice in how to get rid of a body. No, Jake preferred to let the offender live – although the offender might have preferred Tony’s choice after Jake was done. No doubt Carl often wished for death over Salah’s treatment. Served him right. Len still remembered Carl’s mistreatment of the fucktoy they’d sold to Josef. He only wished he could wield the whip himself and make the man’s cock bloody.

Jake nodded, smiling grimly. “No matter what you do with him or to him, he deserves every bit of it.”

“So what brings you to auction with no slave to sell? Or did you sell to Rodriquez again, the swine?”

Jake shook his head. “No, I’m afraid he’s is still rotting in a Mexican jail. Tried to get slaves cheap about a month before the last auction and got caught. He’ll be out soon, from what I hear, but he’ll have a houseful of slaves to retrain. I don’t envy him.”

Salah laughed, a large laugh that echoed through the room. Several heads swiveled to see who enjoyed life so much, but Len kept an eye on the two pieces of muscle Salah always had with him. He respected what these men could do to a person, but it was his duty to be sure they didn’t try anything on Jake. Not that he was the boss’s bodyguard or anything, but he owed a lot to the man and would go down fighting for him. Even if Jake gave no sign of mistrust, Len trusted Salah about as far as he could toss him. And with the two goons there, that wouldn’t be far.

Another bell rang from the front, and those not already in their seats now moved to find them. Salah’s voice dropped as people settled. “Come, sit with me, my friend…” He put his hand on Jake’s arm, raising his eyebrow when his touch produced a wince.

“Sorry.” Jake pulled his left arm free with some difficulty. “Hurt it a few days ago. Moving a piece of furniture.”

Salah clearly didn’t believe him, but Josef walked onto the stage at that moment and rang the bell three times, signaling the start of the auction. Jake motioned for Salah to go before him, but didn’t follow after. Instead he jerked his head toward the back of the closed area and Len moved with him towards the slave platforms in the rear.

Once they were clear of the crowd, Len put his mouth near Jake’s ear. “Did the stitches pull?”

Jake shook his head, but his jaw was tight. “Coming was a mistake. But leaving now would be worse.”

Len nodded, then noticed that the slave on the platform beside them had moved as close as her chains allowed. “Get back, slave. This is private.”

She was a little thing, he saw as she backed away. “Yes, sir – but if you need mending, I’m the one to do it.”

Jake leaned against the platform and Len realized his face had gone white. A glance at his sleeve showed fresh blood staining the white shirt. He glanced up at the slave, who looked at him and nodded. She’d seen it. If she told her owner… Damn the man and his stubbornness.

“Jake, you stay and you show blood. Literally. Not a good thing in this pool of sharks.” Len looked around. No one yet paid them any attention -- the first frightened slave had been pushed onto the stage and that held them in thrall. Damaged slaves were sold first. These were women that either had their best years behind them or were such emotional wrecks they would need major work in order to serve their owners properly. Watching them being auctioned off was like watching a train wreck. You wanted to look away, but the drama was just too intense. You had to watch.

Next would come the menial slaves - good for general housekeeping, but not ones you’d show off in public. Not that they were ugly. Some of them were actually quite good looking and could be useful as wait staff for parties. But they weren’t the centerpieces of a collection. Those came last -- the best of the lot, the beautiful sex slaves who would to anything their owners required of them, and who would do it not only without complaint, but with grace and style as well. Those slaves made their owners a great deal of money at auction. Money he and Jake weren’t going to be making this time around.

“Let me get you to the van. I can come back and say you had an important phone call, cover for you. I won’t stay long and we can get you back and stitch you up again.”

Len knew his boss was in pain when he nodded and agreed to Len’s plan. In the two years he’d been working for the man, Len had never once seen Jake back down from anything. The fact that he understood he needed to leave now somehow made the situation all the more grave. Jake pushed himself up and Len followed as they slipped between the platforms and headed for the warehouse entrance, intending to simply slip out quietly. The two burly guards at the door had other orders, however.

“Sorry, gentlemen, you know the rules. No one leaves till the auction’s finished. Then everyone leaves.”

Jake nodded, keeping his arm down and turned in so the blood wouldn’t show. “I need to take this call for a buyer and the warehouse is playing havoc with my reception. I’ll just step outside to take the call and get instructions. Won’t leave your sight. I promise.”

Both men, chosen more for their brawn than brain, nodded. “For you, Jake. ‘Cause we know you. But stay where we can see ya.”

“I’ll go back and keep an eye on the one the buyer wants in the meantime,” Len improvised.

“Don’t go over the amount we’re allowed. But Salah’s here and our buyer may want to go over anything that sheik offers.” Nodding to the two at the door, Jake walked out the door. Len watched him go until he was sure his boss wasn’t going to fall over, then turned away without another word to the guards.

He headed back the same way they’d left, coming back into the auction space beside the same platform as before. No one seemed to have noticed their departure or his return. Except for the slave on the platform. Once again, she sidled up to him.

“Buy me. I can help your friend.”

“He’s not my friend, he’s my boss.” Len looked at the brazen slave. “And we don’t buy, we sell.”

The platform on his right sat empty and as Len’s gaze took in the crowd, he saw the escort guards handing over the slave who had been there before. Her head bowed, she walked with the gait of a menial slave, meek and humble before her betters.

“You’re buying me today or I’m telling everyone your master’s covering something up.”

Len’s head snapped around, anger twisting his face. “You will not, slave, or I’ll have you whipped for lying.”

She shrugged. “You won’t. You have no power. I’ve been watching. Your master’s the one with all the contacts here. He’s glad-handed everyone of importance.” Her voice dropped in the dim light. “But all I need to do is whisper a hint of weakness to those very same men …”

Len knew she’d do it, too. No matter who bought her, all she had to do was plant seeds of doubt. No outright accusations would be needed to ruin their business, only uncertainty. Trust reigned supreme. This bitch of a slave could bring their world crashing with just a few well-chosen words.

“Shit.”

“Buy me and I’m no longer a problem.”

“We don’t need a menial.”

“But you do need a healer, and in a past life, I was an RN.”

Len eyed her petite form, noting the chains hung loosely around her wrists and ankles. More for show than actual restraint. Whoever her owner was, he apparently didn’t worry about her running away. Not that escape from the auction house was possible, with every door sealed and guarded.

The escort guards had turned to come back for the next slave…the obnoxious one next to him. Len ran another eye over her. Perhaps Jake could train out that brazen streak of hers – turn a menial into a sex slave? He said nothing, only stepping to the side when the guards unlocked her chains and led her off the platform. As she passed Len, her walk became a saunter and she looked up at him with big, dark eyes that sparkled with invitation. Her voice purred her demand in the guise of a promise: “Buy me, big boy – and your troubles are at an end.”

Len watched her back go ramrod straight as soon as she reached the first row of chairs. Keeping her eyes downcast and her posture correct, she looked every inch the housekeeping slave she had been labeled. But the brief glimpses he’d had of her other facets certainly implied intelligence. And if she really had nursing skills and could take care of Jake…