The doctor had come and gone. Alfred sat on one of the full beds in a large room, on the other laid Ivan. Expensive linen covered the mattress, luxuries decor and furniture were placed throughout the room. The sweet smell of cinnamon came from a nearby candle on the end-table beside a pair of glasses that had been left for Alfred.

There was a tap at the half parted door. Alfred's gaze snapped up from the elaborate gold and brown rug.

"Clothing has been ordered for the both of you, it will arrive tomorrow morning." Spoke Kirkland, he walked inside.

"I wish I had died."

The Englishman sighed, taking the spectacles from the end-table. Although the man before him was much older than he appeared, he was truly just a young lad in a foreign world.

"Perhaps, there is a reason you were born this way. Maybe you were born at the wrong moment and have a purpose in this time."

"To what? Wash dishes?" He glared at the Brit. "You know nothing."

"I know much more than you think I do. My son and myself have both inherited the Soulless gene, although the boy does not know this. Neither of us are on record."

"Is that right?" Sneered the American. He stood, a good foot taller than Arthur. "You filth, you would enslave one of your own?"

"I have never partaken in buying, before now. That was only to keep Toby quiet. He believes his mother was a Soulless, even untrue, he would have to be tested for the gene. I must keep him safe."

"Well then, if that is the case, I don't feel so bad about this!"

Alfred swung his fist at Arthur's head, but missed. He stumbled into the end-table knocking red wax out of the candle holder and onto its surface.

With anger, Kirkland grabbed the youth by his arm and raised the back of his hand.

"Go ahead, hit me!" Yelled Alfred. "Do it!"

Arthur could not.

He pushed him away making him fall onto the bed.

"I am not a bad person, Mr. Jones." Said Arthur. "You are lucky to have been bought by me, instead of being used in a test lab, or even worse, a toy for a modern day gladiator. You have lost dinner for the night, clean the mess you have made."

With as much gentleness he could muster, the Englishman slide the spectacles onto Alfred's face. They suited him rather well. Now that Alfred could see, he saw his buyers face clearly. The man's voice was brassy and hinted of age, but, he did not appear any older than himself. He was short and had the greenest eyes Alfred had ever seen. His hair was of a yellowed blonde cut short to show his thick eyebrows; his only manly feature.

"How old are you?"

Asked the American.

Arthur smoothed back his fringe, "Much older than yourself." He stated and took his leave.