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Malori pointed at the wall near the door.

Kensley had assumed the large wooden grid there was a wall decoration, but as he looked directly at it, he saw the empty space behind.

“The dumbwaiter. It’s like a little elevator that moves food between floors.

They were popular in very old homes. I guess this one is old, too, because the food is sent up through there. ”

Kensley stood and walked to the dumbwaiter door. He pulled at the wooden frame, but it didn’t budge.

“I tried to get out that way, too,” Malori said. “Trust me, Master has this place escape-proofed.”

“Maybe. Like I said, I’ll never stop trying. Do they ever drug your food?”

“Yes, when they choose to, and before you suggest it, the punishment for not eating is worse than what they occasionally put in the food.”

“Which is what?”

Malori just shook his head. “I suspect they add vitamins or something, because I’m usually healthy. No colds or viruses. Not that I’m around many people I could catch something from.”

“If you’re healthy, then why bring me here?”

“Maybe Master is bored with me. And I’m so tired. My body is tired. I don’t produce lubricant the way I used to. I barely get aroused enough to do it, even with their drugs. My guess is he needs someone with a full tank, so to speak, so he keeps his clients happy.”

That was not a comforting thought, and it increased Kensley’s worry about Malori’s overall state of health.

He was thin, pale, and looked like he’d crumble to dust if shaken too hard.

Kensley had no doubt that if Malori didn’t get out of here soon, he’d probably die of physical exhaustion. And Kensley would not let that happen.

“I hear you, Malori,” Kensley said. “I hear that you’re tired. But I need you to hold on, okay? Even if you don’t believe me, I truly believe that my brother is looking for me. That he’ll find me. I need you to be alive when he does.”

“Why?”

“So you can come with us. So you can be free.”

“But why? My family hates me. I have no friends. My children were taken. What do I have to live for?”

“Live for the hope that once we’re someplace safe, we’ll find your children. We’ll reunite you with them.”

Something flickered in Malori’s eyes. Kensley didn’t dare think it was hope but…

maybe. Maybe Kensley had said the right thing and given Malori something to live for.

A goal to achieve. And Kensley would keep that promise.

Once they were rescued, he’d do everything in his power to reunite Malori with his son and daughter.

They didn’t talk much after that exchange.

Two plates of food arrived, more healthy, boring stuff that Kensley ate simply because he was hungry.

Malori ate, too, with no enthusiasm, but he cleaned his plate.

They were both sent a glass of juice with the meal, and once they were done, Kensley investigated the bathroom so he could relieve his aching bladder.

Pretty basic, and he suspected there had once been a window in a spot where the drywall color didn’t completely match the rest. The sink faucet also had a filter attachment, and there were small paper cups in a wall dispenser.

At least he didn’t have to wait between meals for water, or to drink directly from the bathtub.

Small favors in what Kensley imagined had been a miserable existence for his new friend.

The television got a handful of channels, so they settled in and watched programs together, until they both began yawning.

Malori turned off the TV, but neither of them went to their respective rooms. Now that Kensley had a friend, he hesitated to leave his side.

To try and sleep in this new place where he could wake up completely alone again.

Malori must have been on a similar wavelength, because he said, “We can share. My bed, I mean.”

“I’d like that. In my last prison, I was completely alone for three days. I need to be around someone else.”

“Your last prison?”

“Up until a few weeks ago, I was a part of an Order. I lived in an abbey, away from the world, and then someone tried to kidnap me. They wanted to use me as leverage against my brother, but his top enforcer saved me. We went into hiding together, Bishop and me. I realized he was the other half of my heart and soul. We were each other’s charus.

But someone else found us. Took me. Kept me prisoner.

I thought my brother would be able to pay for my release, but I obviously ended up here.

” And he still had no idea why King hadn’t managed to buy his freedom.

Even more reason to get out of here and demand answers from his brother.

“I’m envious, I think,” Malori said softly. “Not only that you have people looking for you, but it sounds like you found love with Bishop. Hold on to that.”

“I am. It’s kept me sane this week.” He glanced at the bathroom door. “Please, tell me there are toothbrushes available. My teeth are so fuzzy I could knit a sweater out of them.” He hadn’t thought earlier to investigate the small cupboard for other supplies.

Malori smiled. “We have toothbrushes. Mouthwash, too. And floss. Your teeth are in good hands.”

“Floss is a little too fussy for me, but yay to the rest. Dibs to brush first?”

“Have at it. You might even want to take a shower. You’re a touch ripe.” A bit of light seemed to return to Malori’s eyes, but it dimmed quickly.

Kensley briefly squeezed his shoulder, and then went into the bathroom to finally clean up.

Morning arrived too fast for Kensley, and he woke to the pleasant sound of steady breathing beside him.

Malori was asleep, so close to the edge of the mattress he might fall off if he stretched too hard, but he seemed peaceful.

Or as peaceful as he could be, given the circumstances.

Kensley suspected that Malori had learned to find fragments of peace wherever he could.

His room was as bland as the one Kensley had woken up in yesterday, despite Malori existing here for three years.

Then again, where was Malori supposed to acquire any sort of decorations?

Especially if he only left these few rooms for the mysterious “downstairs” that existed for one specific purpose.

That purpose made Kensley’s gut roil. He eased out of bed and went into the bathroom to do his morning business.

Last night’s shower had felt amazing, so he took another one, because why not?

It wasn’t his water bill, and he wanted to wake up a little more.

Since he had no other clothes, he put the simple linen pajamas back on.

Malori was still asleep, and the room had no clocks anywhere.

Kensley flipped through the few TV channels, but nothing seemed to be local enough to give either a time stamp or weather report.

Based on the channels, though, he was pretty sure they were still in the States.

Kensley chose a program at random, mostly for the noise.

His previous prison had been so silent that he’d wanted to scream.

At least he no longer had to recite scriptures to stay sane.

He had a friend to converse with. He investigated the TV cabinet and discovered a handful of single-player card games and puzzles.

It gave him a tiny spark of hope that this Master didn’t want to torture them with complete boredom.

No books or magazines anywhere he could find, though, and he searched everywhere, including the closet in “his” bedroom.

The only things in there were a few more sets of those same pajamas and a pair of tan slippers. No socks, no underwear.

Prison garb. Nothing to individualize or humanize himself or Malori. Nothing besides their names. And Malori admitted that Master only referred to him as “Omega.”

So gross.

The rattle of the dumbwaiter drew him back into the main room. Malori joined him for oatmeal and fruit, which had some flavor to it. “How varied is the menu here?” Kensley asked, despite having no desire to be around long enough to experience multiple meals. He just hated oatmeal.

“Not much,” Malori replied. “Except for when I was pregnant. Then they sent small treats, like cookies or ice cream.”

“Did you ever see a doctor?”

“A few times, but she didn’t speak to me a lot, other than during the births. Her accent was muddled, too, like she was trying to disguise it.”

“I guess you never got her name.”

“She said Dr. Luther, but who knows if it was real?”

Kensley thought back to the brief glimpses of Marta he’d seen before she (at least, he assumed that had been Marta) drugged him at the beach house. “What does she look like? The doctor?”

“I’m not sure. Average height, white, I think, but she also wore a cap over her hair and a mask, like a surgeon.

Same as when she coached me through my births.

” Malori’s voice cracked. “I hoped my second birth would be different, that I’d actually get to keep my son.

I thought…but I was wrong. I was wrong about so much. ”

“I’m so sorry.” Kensley squeezed Malori’s wrist, not surprised when Malori flinched and shifted farther away.

“Master will probably come today. To see you.”

“Fantastic.” Kensley grunted then studied his spoon, curious what sort of weapon it would make.

As if reading his mind, Malori sighed. “Don’t even consider it.

They have cameras all over the place. If all the utensils and plates aren’t returned to the dumbwaiter, they’ll know.

They won’t send any more food until you do, and they’ll shut off the water to the bathroom.

Trust me, I tried everything my first few weeks. ”