Page 33 of Forge the Blade

Lisa nodded, eyes on where Sevastyan held his hand. “Some flinching will be reasonable after the attack, right?”

“Yes. I’ll go get bandages,” Sevastyan said. If Lisa was willing, waiting would only make giving up his autonomy and dignity more difficult. Rei never wanted to wait if he knew he and Sevastyan were training for a public display. If it was humiliating or difficult, he didn’t want to know until it was time, and then he just wanted to be in it.

Lisa had stayed where he left him. Sevastyan sat against the headboard and pulled Lisa in between the V of his legs, his back to Sevastyan’s chest. He took Lisa’s hands, already bruised and hurt, and turned them this way and that, studying the injuries. “We’ll tie your wrists at night and unwrap your fingers then, so these get some air,” he said.

Lisa said nothing. He held still as ointment was applied and the binding started. It took time, bending in one each of Lisa’s fingers, creating soft fists and wrapping them until they resembled paws more than hands. Lisa looked at them and shuddered as the last of the bandages were set aside.

Sevastyan moved, bringing his hands to Lisa’s arms and stroking. Lisa curled in on himself. Sevastyan drew him in against his chest, raising his knees and caging him.

Lisa braced himself, forehead against Sevastyan’s shoulder for a long time. When he spoke, it was low and slow. “Alexi is going to wonder why I’m not fighting you.”

“Tell him the truth,” Sevastyan murmured into Lisa’s hair, stroking the other man’s back gently, mindful of the bruising. “Tell him you cracked and threw things and that I punished you, that you were tired. That I’m taking credit for killing Dirk’s men instead of you. That I’m letting you be with Rei.”

Lisa took a shuddering breath. “It would have been enough. I hate that it would have been enough.”

Sevastyan

They ate breakfast, the three of them, in the kitchen. Ellisandre had already left in the early hours of the morning. With Alexi coming, they were back to protocol: Master at the table and slaves on the floor. With their injuries, it was hazardous to do a normal kneel. Sevastyan had Lisa and Rei stay on their hands and knees. He fed them from his plate, holding morsels in his palm and leaning down to feed one and then the other as he worked his way through the meal. It required time, but it was worth the quiet easing back into their roles. He took their permission to speak away, leaving them only the option of silently approaching his feet and waiting. Cuddling and affection seeking was left open for both of them, both towards him and each other. Instead of giving Rei crutches, he left him to crawl or carried him. The crutches stayed in the closet.

Rei and Lisa spent hours curled up on the floor at his feet in the pile of blankets and pillows, sleeping. While they rested and healed, Sevastyan worked on something different: Dirk. Even if his own wound itched and the ache of the bruises lingered, now that the drugs were long gone from his system and he’d had a blood infusion, he was nowhere near as injured as Rei and Lisa, and merely waiting was not something he could tolerate. Nor could he afford to hesitate. While his body rested, his mind worked.

There was an outline of a plan in him, one that lent itself well to what was coming. He wrote messages, took calls, and ordered jewelry from one of his storage vaults. When there remained nothing more to do, he closed his eyes and let himself sleep.

Whispers woke him.

“You have to ask.” That was Rei.

Lisa’s voice responded, miserable and low. “Don’t want to.”

“It’s the whole point.” Rei’s tone was anxious and breathy. “Don’t hold it.”

“You could help me.”

“You know I can’t,” Rei retorted. “That’s . . . that’s . . .”

“Defeats the whole point, I know,” Lisa muttered.

Time to interrupt. The anxiety already spiraling between the two had soared too high. “I can always bind and muzzle Rei too, Lisa, if that will make it easier on you.”

“No,” Lisa snapped. “This isn’t about him.”

“And you’re making it about him.” Sevastyan sat up. “Neither of you are supposed to be speaking. Do you need the facilities?”

Lisa nodded miserably.

Sevastyan stood and leaned down, pulling Lisa to his feet, careful of his injured thigh. Lisa went with Sevastyan’s lead, eyes wide. Sevastyan picked him up, an arm under Lisa’s rear. “Believe me, there is nothing about the human body and fluids I haven’t seen.” He moved towards the bathroom.

Lisa was mute by way of humiliation instead of submission when they were finished. He tried to pull away and curl up on the floor apart from both Rei and Sevastyan when they returned to the living room. That was not going to happen. Sevastyan brought Lisa with him, forcing the other man to lie with him on the couch, his leg thrown over Sevastyan’s own, and his head on Sevastyan’s shoulder, his back against the cushions. It trapped Lisa and kept him close. Then he ignored the slave, going back to reading a writeup about an upcoming auction in Brazil. In time, as Sevastyan had hoped, Lisa softened, exhaustion and pain breaking him down and making him rest against Sevastyan. Rei stayed close, leaning against the side of the couch from his place on the floor. Now and then Sevastyan dropped his hand and stroked Rei’s cheek or played with his hair. He didn’t deserve the pleased smile Rei shot him each time. But he treasured them anyway, smiling back and tracing the arch of Rei’s neck with his finger, just to see him lift his chin and his eyes slide shut, enjoying the touch.

Sevastyan

The hotel Sevastyan chose for receiving Alexi had excellent service. Which was helpful as the man was arriving in a few hours. Sevastyan nodded to the staff dropping their bags on the bench in the new room. “Would you like us to unpack, sir?” the most senior staff member inquired.

Sevastyan shook his head. Ellisandre was staying with Lisa and Rei back at the Bolthole, which gave him time to prep the hotel room for Alexi’s visit and a several days’ stay. His bruises were finally starting to hurt a little less and he could move more easily. The bullet wound in his side was completely scabbed over. It would be weeks before it was completely healed, and the skin stopped pulling with any major move, but it was mending without infection. There was nothing to stop what needed to be done from getting done.

He started with a check for surveillance devices. No one should have guessed he was going to take this room at the last minute, but caution was the winning choice. There were cameras to install on his own network, tied to his phone, and with all traffic encrypted. Food and supplies were delivered to the front desk of the hotel as ordered and were brought up by the valet service. That stocked the fridge with Alexi’s favorite beer, enough food for almost a week, and added pillows and blankets to the floor in strategic places. As a last touch, weapons were hidden in easy reach. Dirk’s resources in the area probably hadn’t recovered from the loss of so many goons, but who knew. While it was unlikely they’d gotten a lead on Sevastyan again, Alexi would be trackable. His trip to Chicago would probably not go unnoticed. Whether or not the wrong people would notice was another question.

Satisfied, Sevastyan threw on an entirely different coat and hat with an added beard and took the elevator to the lobby, heading back out onto the street. His phone buzzed as he approached the Bolthole. A text from Alexi: .