"Is that really the legendary Shinigami?" I couldn't help but ask the Duke.

"The one and only," he replied, smirking. "Don't let his size fool you. He's a killer, and has been ever since his first master died. Completely savage, so bad that he has to be drugged before anyone can even handle him. He's injured several slaves and masters this year alone."

"So he's yours?" I asked, and the Duke actually laughed.

"Not on your life. The Shinigami is fun for a party, but he's notorious for getting into trouble, and usually distracts a master so much that he can't train his other slaves. That's why no one takes him as their own. At least, those who have enough money to buy him are usually pretty serious about Collar. A first place winner in three sections? That means that the Collar staff is selling him as a Collar slave, and won't take less than a Collar price even though nobody wants him. So, to offset the cost of keeping him, they rent him out for functions like this. As long as he comes back without a scar, the price is only a percentage of what his buying price is."

"It seems cruel, to move him around so."

"Well if he behaved he'd certainly have a permanent place to stay, but he won't. He brings it on himself. They all do," he assured. I nodded with fake understanding and knelt next to the boy, who was pulling against his bonds. I could see, as I looked at his eyes, that he was mildly drugged.

"I'll let my slaves give him another dose of drugs," the Duke commented, motioning to a pair of slaves. "It should be enough to keep him quiet for the rest of the night."

"Are you sure that's necessary?"

"It's for the best. He'll only hurt himself fighting us if we left him lucid."

"Ah," I responded and watched as the slaves moved in on Shinigami. He watched them intently. From my studies of the martial arts and fighting techniques, I could see, just before he lashed out at the pair, his muscles tensing in preparation. Then he kicked at the pair, sending the two sprawling backwards, and all hell broke loose as they attempted to retaliate. Shinigami was vicious, moving spastically, with a strength I hadn't expected to come out of the small body. The three slaves suddenly became a tangled mass of limbs and bodies. Though Shinigami was obviously at a disadvantage, he was holding his own against the two bigger slaves, but it was useless. He would only get himself hurt with the constant fighting. And, from the angry looks the other two slaves had begun to give him, he might get hurt badly.

It was with that thought fueling my resolve that I decided to intervene. Quickly stepping into the fray, I inserted myself between the Duke's two slaves and Shinigami. I motioned for them to stay put and, though they cast heated glares behind me, they did as commanded. Behind me, Shinigami was on his back, biting down on the gag in his mouth and staring at me with the gaze of a rabid wolf. I moved slowly toward him, watching his body, so that when he lashed at me with his legs I could easily dodge and grab him around the middle. I pulled him up, getting him off the floor so that he could not kick with any power, then pulled his legs to my side so that he could not kick at all. With his size and weight, he was not able to kick out my hold, though he tried valiantly. Giving up with his legs, he attempted to head-butt me, so I grabbed his head with my other hand. The final product was me holding most of his weight with my hand on his thighs, keeping him still with a hand on his forehead, while the two slaves injected him with the drugs as he thrashed against me.

When it was over, I pulled him down to the floor, for he was much easier to hold while I was sitting. I continued to keep him locked in my embrace as he thrashed, resisting the drugs. But even the legend was only human, and eventually he succumbed. I watched the energy drain out of him, until he was calm and placid as any house-pet. He gazed up at me with the same affection I had seen in my favorite hunting dog. Somewhere underneath all the bravado I saw the same hopes, dreams, and desire to be loved as any other human, but as the cloud of drugs took hold of his conscious there was nothing but an animalistic haze. It was sickening to see one with such a strong soul brought so low by means as dirty as drugs and abuse.

I stayed there for a moment, rocking the boy as he leaned his head dizzily against my chest. A ghost of a smile crossed his face, which was gratitude enough for the small pleasure I was giving him. I wanted to protect him, just as I wanted to protect all the slaves.

Removed for content.