Free Knight (An Impossible Novel) by Julia Sykes Page A

shirt as I clutched at him.
    “Master,” I whispered desperately, voicing his title aloud to reassure myself that he was real.  I belonged to him now, and I would never be forced to go back to that place.
    This time he didn’t admonish me for saying the word.
    “It’s okay, little one.  He can’t hurt you anymore.  You’re safe with me.”  His deep voice rumbled over my skin like a soothing balm.
    “James.”  Clayton’s sharply spoken word was imbued with warning.
    “Get out, Vaughn,” Master growled.
    “You can’t let her call you ‘Master.’”  Heat colored Clayton’s usually calm tone.  “She doesn’t understand what that means.  Not in the same way you understand it.”
    “I know that,” Master snapped.  “But she needs this.”
    I clung to Master more tightly.  I couldn’t allow Clayton to convince him to leave me.  I peeked up at Master’s friend, staring into his blue eyes imploringly.
    “Please.  I’m sorry I said ‘Master.’  I know it’s against the rules.  I promise I’ll do better.  I’ll be good.”
    The light in Clayton’s eyes was deeply sad and more than a little horrified.  “Okay,” he conceded.  “It’s okay, Jane.  No one is going to punish you.  But you can’t call Smith ‘Master.’  You’re not a slave.”
    My mind couldn’t comprehend his firm declaration.  If I wasn’t a slave, then I didn’t know what I was.  I didn’t know how to exist as anything else.  The concept of no longer belonging to Master terrified me.  I brushed Clayton’s words from my conscious mind.
    He glanced over at Master.  “I suppose you’re going to stay here again tonight.”
    “Yes,” Master replied roughly.  “And don’t you dare try to tell me not to.”
    Clayton shook his head.  “No.  I wouldn’t do that.  I think it’s actually a good thing that you’re staying.”
    Master’s arms tightened around me.  I turned my face into his chest, inhaling his comforting scent.  It was warm and rich with a hint of a sharp edge, like a smooth whisk ey that burns deliciously as it slides down your throat.
    “I’ll see you in the morning, then, Smith,” Clayton said, weariness roughening his voice.
    “Definitely,” Master growled.  “We’re going to catch the Bastard.  I thought he had taken advantage of her, but he fucking abducted her, Clayton.”
    “I know.  We’ll bring in the guys from NYPD Missing Persons.”
    “I won’t turn down the extra manpower, but this is our collar, Clayton.  We’re going to be the ones who bring him in.  I won’t let the NYPD treat him gently.”
    “Agreed,” Clayton said firmly.  His chair scraped against the floor as he stood to leave.  I didn’t watch him as he walked away; I kept my face firmly pressed agains t Master’s chest.
    “Clayton,” Master called after his friend.  “Thanks.”
    I breathed Master’s scent in greedily as Clayton’s footsteps retreated, allowing him to claim all of my senses.  No matter what Clayton said, I belonged to Master.  And I wasn’t ever going to let anyone take me from him.
    Over the next four days, Master guided me through the challenges of my new life.  My schedule was carefully regimented, and Master’s orders for compliance with Susan’s wishes made tackling the unfamiliar less terrifying. 
    The greatest difficulties came from the requests of the FBI agents who came to see me.  A strange woman came to take my fingerprints.  I would have been frightened of her touch if Master hadn’t assured me that my compliance would please him.
    It was much more difficult to obey the sketch artist.  She wanted to know what that Bastard looked like, and recalling his appearance in detail had been traumatic.  Master held me for hours afterward, stroking my hair and whispering words of comfort.  He didn’t say it aloud, but his touch and promise of safety reassured me that I belonged to him now.
    Clayton came to check in on me frequently, but he didn’t