Page 27 of Bottoms Up
Marco pointed for me to sit in a chair, so I did, though I wanted to go to Silver and give him a proper greeting, but his body language didn’t invite me to while he sat in his dress pants and dress shirt.
“I don’t want to give the impression this is going to happen today, or even this month, or next month,” Marco said, “but I need you to tell me what you’re willing to do in order to fast-track your path toward freedom.”
My gut cartwheeled, anxiety and hope tangling in my throat. Marco, unlike previous Masters, explained to me why he’d made various offers and counteroffers during the course of everyday business, teaching me how to negotiate, and I figured he’d expect me to speak with the wisdom he’d taught me, so I considered my words before saying, “I know better than to sayanything, Master, but there isn’t a lot I’d take off the table.”
A tiny nod, and from Marco, it meant he was pleased with my answer.
“I’m prepared to allow you to take the level thirty-one test with the new Senatus, so you can legally be around humans without supervision. I’ll still be held responsible if you fuck up, and you will pay dearly for it, if it comes to pass, but this will allow me to send you out in public without a vampire escort capable of containing you.”
I swallowed hard and managed to speak with a steady voice. “I look forward to proving myself, Master.” The test would be absolute hell, and I was going to have to do it sooner or later, but everything inside me coiled tight. Shame, hope, dread. Emotions swirled in my mind, but I focused on Marco, wondering why Silver was here but not daring to ask.
“Assuming you pass this first test with flying colors, meaning if it’s close, everything is off the table, but if you pass it with ease, I’m prepared to give you some incremental freedoms, much as teenagers are given more and more responsibility on their way to becoming an adult, learning to make wise choices along the way.”
Teenager.
The word hit wrong. An old ache. A reminder of what had been stolen. What I’d neverreallybeen, forced to grow up fast in a body mutilated so it would never mature in the normal way.
My palms were damp, but I didn’t move to wipe them. Didn’t shift in the chair. Just kept statue-still and tried to make sense of whatincremental freedomsmight mean.
While I was trying to sort it through in my head, Silver finally spoke. “What he isn’t telling you, is that he wants someone else to oversee you.”
My gaze snapped to him. His voice was eerily calm, his scent a little sad, and it unsettled me.
“While you’ll have a bank account of your own, and checks deposited into it as an employee rather than a slave, you’ll have a contract with me that’ll give me the power to keep you…” Hesighed. “A TPE contract with me. You won’t be allowed to spend your money without my permission.”
My chest squeezed tight. Why would it be Silver and not Marco? Or someone else? I didn’t understand, so I sat still and nodded, hoping it would make sense soon.
I thought Silver would keep talking, but it was Marco who said, “I have some conditions, of course, and as Silver said, one of them will mean you’ll sign a TPE contract, so she’ll have total control of you. She and I will discuss when to give you more freedoms, but it’ll be her decision, not mine. I’ll act as advisor, certainly, but Silver will be the one deciding whether you’re trustworthy with more responsibilities, or whether you’ve created doubts as to whether you can handle what’s already been given, so she should tighten your leash again.”
“Marco will be your boss, but under our agreement, I’ll be your legal owner. I’ll handle punishments, consequences, and rewards.”
I started to shake my head, but froze before I did.
I absolutely didn’t want to force Silver into that position, saddled with so much weight and responsibility, but the two of them had obviously talked about this, and Silver seemed to be on board with it. Silver wanted me free, too. If he was willing to carry this burden for my sake, the least I could do was hear them out. Marco’s original question came back to me —how much would I agree to in order to fast-track my freedom?
“What kind of timeline are you thinking, Master?” I asked Marco.
“From nine to eighteen months. I have some specific goals I need to see you meet. If you meet them at six months, I won’t agree to send you to the final testing until nine months. If you haven’t met them at eighteen months, we’ll go to Plan B, which I’m not prepared to speak of at this time.”
Silver looked to Marco, and I felt the silence stretch. They were telepathing — I was sure of it, and I hated that I couldn’t hear. I resented not knowing what was being decided about me. It’s the life of a slave, and I’m used to it. It’s nothing for Marco to do so, but Silver had never treated me like a slave before, and it rankled. I understood she was in a difficult place, and I could scent her revulsion and unease so I knew this wasn’t easy for her, but still.It rankled.
It wouldn’t do for me to complain, though. Like it or not, this was my station in life, so I sat still, hands flat on my thighs to hide their shake, and waited.
“Marco has another really big condition, one that almost made me refuse the whole thing, but then I decided…” She shrugged. “I’ll let him explain.”
My pulse stuttered. Her scent told me how upset she was, how uncomfortable, and Iknewwhatever they were about to say would be bad.
“I’m aware of the failed scene the two of you attempted,” Marco said, smooth as ever, “reenacting the destruction of your balls. For a number of reasons, I feel as if you need to get through that scene with your Silver.”
My mouth went dry. My balls shrank into my body.
He leaned back, calm and merciless, unruffled. “I’ve set an appointment with you at five tomorrow morning in Dr. Woods’ office. Therapy, so you can talk to him about your feelings during the failed scene, and your feelings about going through it again.”
The wordagainhit like a punch to the gut.
“In a nutshell,” Marco continued, “Silver will be leaving Homewood after our meeting, before you’ll have a chance to talk to her. She’ll be gone ten days. No contact, giving you plenty of time to come to a decision on your own, with Dr. Woods’ help.”
I don’t need to breathe unless I’m speaking, but I took slow, deep breaths to try to stem the anxiety climbing up my spine.
