Read A Most Personal Property (Ganymede Quartet Book 1) for Free Online Page B

gob of food in his mouth, poking the boy in the shoulder. “Go on, do it!”
    “Good morning, Sir. I-I’m Sam. At your service.” He gave Henry a little bow, then darted a nervous glance at his master. Henry noted that Sam had dark circles beneath his eyes and his lip looked chewed and raw. The black-and-red sigil of House Apollo was tattooed below the hollow of his throat. Henry acknowledged him with a nod.
    “He’s not very smart.” Adam gave him another poke and Sam flinched. “Stupid, really. But attractive enough, don’t you think?” Henry shrugged again, unwilling to concede. Adam continued, saying, “My father says I can have another if I want. A better one, smarter.” At this, two bright spots of red bloomed in Sam’s pale cheeks and he ducked his head in shame. “Not some leftover,” Adam jeered, jabbing at Sam again. “I’ll be looking to replace him today when the good ones are up for sale. I’ve got one picked out already, and my father says he’ll bid high.”
    Adam’s callous indifference in the face of Sam’s obvious misery made Henry extremely uncomfortable. “Well, all right, then. I’d best be going—”
    Adam was not willing to let him get away so easily, not when he felt he had an advantage. “You know, I’ve been letting all my friends have a go at him, at least until they get their own.”
    “Generous of you,” Henry allowed, with an ill-hidden moue of distaste. If this was meant to make him jealous, it was not a good ploy. Henry was not at all comfortable with the idea of sharing slaves, even between friends. The stories he’d heard from Louis’ brother James and other older boys made him shudder. It seemed unsavory to play at extremes with slaves’ bodies; they were, after all, people.
    “Damn right about that!” Adam’s fat face was split by an unbecoming smirk. “Now they’ll all have to pay me back! Well, I’ll be seeing you, Blackwell.” He looked back over his shoulder at little Sam. “Come on, you!” He set off down the sidewalk, Sam close on his heels.
    After this encounter with Adam and his Sam, Henry stumbled blindly in the direction of his father’s building, all hopes of diversion forgotten. All he could think of was fair Martin standing poised on the dais. By the end of the day, every one of his friends would have an impressive new companion to serve him when they returned to school next week. If Father didn’t win Martin, Henry would have no slave at all, and even Adam with his leftover slave would be in a better position.
    Henry recalled there was a soda fountain on the next block and picked up his pace, looking forward to a cool drink. He took a seat at the counter and watched in the mirror behind the bar as three boys a year or two older than himself drank their sodas at a table near the window, their slaves standing attendance. One of the slaves, a blond bearing the lyre mark of House Orpheus, wore gold hoops in his ears, a fashion Henry had not seen on male slaves before, and he wasn’t sure whether or not he liked the look. It didn’t matter, of course; without his own slave to bedizen, his opinions on such matters were irrelevant.
    He drank a lemon phosphate and watched the other customers in the mirror, idly wondering what Martin might look like with earrings. The idea of owning Martin, of having the right to pierce his flesh, was overwhelmingly arousing and Henry felt a furious blush bloom on his cheeks. He kept very still, hoping his condition would go unnoticed, and when he glanced furtively around the shop he was relieved to see that no one was paying him any mind.
    Henry sipped the last of his soda while fretting about the likelihood that Father would be willing to bid high. Henry was not really the sort of person who could be spoiled, being neither acquisitive nor mercenary, but he had always been given the things he wanted; still, he worried that Father would not indulge him in this one terribly important thing.
    Henry ordered