Carrick gave a tiny, dark smile. "My body doesn't need guarding. Which isn't to say I don't have enemies. I do. But if I ever grew lax enough to lose a fight to them, I'd richly deserve assassination."
He nodded slightly, his manner thawing very slightly now that he had taken his plesure with the boy.
"I owned a gladiator school once." His voice was almost wistful. "On the outskirts of Rome. I had a small villa on the Capitoline hill and an estate in the country. It was a good life."
Carrick let his eyes pass slowly over the slender limbs and pale skin of his new slave. The boy could take rough handling, that was plain. More, the vampire had a suspicion that Mika craved it.
"Then you've been well used," he said softly. The vampire uncrossed his legs and leaned forwards slightly. "But I am not most Masters, Mika. And I've had time to find ways of using slaves that would make some of those men turn pale."
His cold, merciless eyes met and held Mika's own. "And I suspect that's what you long for. A Master who can use you in ways most of them have never imagined."