Black Dog(142)

Taken utterly by surprise, Alejandro said nothing at all.

“You will not answer? Well, then, tell me this: why were you downstairs just now, when my order was that Ezekiel was to be let alone, that no black dog should approach him?” The Master added, with heavy sarcasm, “Perhaps you believe my orders do not include you? You have certainly appeared to believe that you have special dispensation to defy me. How many times have you disobeyed me in this week?”

Alejandro still said nothing. He had no idea what to say. He dropped to one knee instead, turning his head to expose his throat. He had known he risked punishment for disobedience. He had believed Grayson had brought him away from the house to punish him. But he thought now this might be worse. He was now almost sure that the Dimilioc Master meant to send him away. The Master wanted Natividad and probably didn’t care about Miguel, but a young black dog who wouldn’t take orders? A black pup who argued and lied and defied him and would not obey; who went out windows and pulled all of Dimilioc after him into ill-considered danger?

Now Malvern Vonhausel was dead, and Grayson had all those other black dogs, at least any of them he decided to keep, and also the ones James Mallory was supposed to bring when the roads opened… maybe the Dimilioc Master thought he could dispense with one disobedient black dog pup. Alejandro shut his eyes, breathing slowly, trying not to show his dismay. He knew he should be grateful that Grayson couldn’t actually kill him without offending Natividad. She and Miguel would be safe, that was the important thing. But Alejandro’s heart sank at the thought that the Master might send him away – he would be alone, just another solitary stray black dog, maybe for the rest of his life. He did not know what to say to make Grayson change his mind.

“You are loyal to your sister,” Grayson rumbled. “And to your brother. That does you credit. But Dimilioc itself is nothing to you. Can you broaden that loyalty of yours to encompass Dimilioc entire? I wonder about that.”

Alejandro opened his mouth, but closed it again without speaking. He had realized as Grayson had spoken that the Master was wrong; that Dimilioc was important to him, that he wanted it to belong to him as a home, that he wanted to belong to it in turn. But he did not know how to say any of this. He did not even know when the change had happened, or exactly why. It was Natividad who immediately cared what happened to anybody and everybody she met, and it was Miguel who cared about Dimilioc as an institution, as a concept. But he… Grayson had been right about him: he had not cared about Dimilioc at all.

When he had told Miguel he had to warn Grayson about Natividad being gone, he should have realized then that this had changed. When he had found himself utterly dismayed to think first that Ezekiel might kill Grayson, and then the reverse: he should have realized it then. But he had not known it until now, and now it was too late. He did not have his brother’s quick tongue or his sister’s charm, and he was sure that Grayson would not believe any protest he made.

Grayson’s voice dropped into an even lower tone. “Keziah cares about herself and her sister, no one else. Andrew and Russell Meade will care about their sisters and possibly about each other. Thaddeus is less limited. He cares about his family, but also he wishes to be a man his wife will respect and love. He, I believe, will be a great asset to Dimilioc. You…” He turned his heavy gaze on Alejandro and fell silent.

“I care about Dimilioc.” Even to himself, Alejandro sounded defensive.

“Do you?” Grayson studied him. “Perhaps you do. Or perhaps you might, in time. Your Pure sister may offer you both a good example and an incentive. That seems possible to me. Dimilioc’s previous Master… Thos Korte was strong, but he cared for nothing but strength. In his mind, Dimilioc owned resources. Those included its black wolves, which, as with all his resources, he put to hard use. He was not a good Master for Dimilioc. But he was strong.”

Alejandro glanced at the Master, confused by the change of topic and doubtful of the implication he thought he’d heard. Just as quickly, he looked away. He tried to imagine anyone thinking Grayson weak, and failed completely. Ezekiel might outfight the Master. But Ezekiel was not stronger. He tried to think how to say this, realized he did not dare say anything of the kind, and was silent.

“I think you will develop considerable strength,” Grayson said, with no great emphasis. He was no longer looking at Alejandro, but again at the house. “And you have the gift of forcing down the shadows of other black dogs. That gift, too, will become more powerful with age.”

Worse and worse. Grayson saw him, then, not merely as a disobedient black pup, but also as a potential rival…