Chapter 1:

Kurt paced the kitchen frantically. Where was he? He'd told Kurt he was leaving to drive home hours ago but there was still no sign of his father struggling up the path. Clutching the sink, Kurt stared out of the window once again trying to pick out his father's familiar figure against the white quilt that now blanketed the street. The clock registered another hour had passed behind Kurt's head and the young man swallowed heavily at the realisation that something was definitely wrong. Taking a deep breath and hauling on his warmest coat, Kurt grabbed his keys and hurried out into the darkness.

The roads were treacherous although slightly easier to navigate now that the snow had finally stopped. He struggled to maintain traction, grateful at least that it hadn't yet frozen and turned to ice beneath his tires. He knew the route his father had gone and allowed the sat. nav. to direct him as he concentrated on staying on the road. Eventually he spotted a vehicle, trapped in a sheet of snow, abandoned on the roadside.

Immediately slipping into panic mode, Kurt flung himself from his own car and desperately searched the navigator for signs of his father. There was nothing. The keys were gone as were any signs of tracks left in the snow that his father might have made which would have indicated the direction he would have taken. Forcing himself to think logically and gulping down the nausea that threatened when he thought of his father's ill health, Kurt turned back towards the way he'd come. If his father was heading home, then he would have wanted to continue in the same direction to look for help. Kurt knew he was going to have to complete the rest of this on foot if he stood any chance of finding his father and with his own heart thumping in his chest, he set off through the trees, back vaguely in the direction he'd come.

The house seemed to lure Kurt towards it, despite the light having been long extinguished. He seemed to be able to make out the bulk of a building in the distance from the edge of the woods and hurried towards it as best he could, stumbling through the snow. Everything was silent as he started cautiously up a rose rimmed path towards the house. His flesh crawled as the icy weather seeped into his coat and wrapped around his lungs. There was no sign of his father but something about the house made Kurt continue; it seemed to beckon him towards it and he felt almost compelled forward.

Standing on the threshold, Kurt felt his hand tremble at he reached out for the lion shaped knocked on the heavy set wooden door. The deep pounding of the metal handle reverberated through the house, thundering across the silence and shaking Kurt's tiny shred of remaining control.

There was no response. The house sat silent once again after the echoes died.

Kurt's body ached from the exertions of the hunt and he slumped against the wood in utter defeat. It groaned beneath his weight and swung inwards slightly, making the young man stumbled into the deserted hallway in shock. He looked around him nervously, his eyes widening at the opulence that greeted them. The central hall was wide and grand with an elaborate gilt staircase spiralling up either side of the room to an obscured second floor. What had seemed dark from the outside, was now illuminated by the soft glow of lights that trailed up the side of the banisters and overhead an intricate chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling casting a warm glow across the marble floor that Kurt was now sprawled across.

"Hello?"

Kurt's voice, already high pitched and breathy, came out as a tentative squeak and he cleared his throat in an attempt to try again.

 "Is there anyone here? I...I'm sorry to disturb you but well....um...I'm looking for my father."

He stopped, waiting to see if there was any response but the house remained silent and waiting. Dragging himself to his feet again, Kurt moved towards the staircase, glancing around him for any sign of life. "Hello?" he called again, his voice a little firmer now that he'd composed himself.

Something shifted suddenly at the top of the stairs and Kurt could make out a shape in the shadows. His breath hitched as the figure moved into the light and stared down at him. It was a man, not much older than Kurt, with gel slicked hair and dressed immaculately in a beautifully cut black suit and open necked white shirt. Kurt's breath hitched in his throat as the man stared at him from his lofty position. His eyes were hard and cold, dark brown in the shadows of his tanned skin as he penetrated Kurt with a look of disdain. He didn't speak, just raked his eyes over the pale boy at the foot of the stairs and Kurt felt himself rendered silent by the power of this figure before him.

Slowly and with deliberate grace, the man moved down a step, pausing to cock his head to one side and regard Kurt with barely concealed hostility.

"Umm.... s..sorry  to disturb you sir. But um..." Kurt's voice stuttered out between them and he found words failing him as the man moved another step closer, still holding his gaze.

"You've come for your father" the voice was bored, unconcerned as he moved down another step. Kurt's heart leapt at the mention of Burt and he felt himself relax into a smile without really thinking.

"Oh thank god. He's here? Is he ok? Thank you so much for taking him in. God I was so worried.. " he trailed off again as he watched the cold, impassive face stop in front of him, only one step separating them. Face to face, Kurt realised just how young the boy actually was. He was slight of build and shorter than Kurt but neither fact made Kurt feel any more comfortable in his position. Looking into his eyes Kurt felt all further relief knocked out of him. The eyes stared into him; cold, hard and without emotion.   

"He was trespassing." The man said levelly and without feeling. "He is being held in a cell until I say what is to be done with him."

Kurt's pale blue eyes involuntarily swam with frustrated tears and anger as he took in the words of the arrogant stranger before him.

"How dare you!" he exploded, annoyed at the slight sob that escaped at the same time. "he's a frail old man and he's got a heart condition. He came here for help because he was trapped in the snow! How dare you.." he sobbed and swiped angrily at the tears that had escaped down his cheeks. He watched a tiny flash of something flit across the other man's eyes before it was replaced by cold indifference once more.

"He stole from my garden. He trespassed on private property and therefore has been arrested." He said simply. "I suggest you leave or else I could say the same for his son."

Kurt's anger was seething through him and he balled his fists at his sides, a motion that afforded a smirk from the other boy.

"I have guards here who will do anything I request at the touch of a button so I suggest you desist with those little notions of violence flirting around that pretty head of yours." He inched another step closer to Kurt and moved his head nearer until only a fraction of air passed between them. "Actually," He paused, moving his lips even closer till he was breathing the words into Kurt's mouth. "I think I'd quite like to have you tied up in a cell next to your father's." Kurt's skin prickled at the words and he felt his own breath catch in his throat before he flicked his eyes up to look into the dark, dilated pupils of the other man.

"Who are you?" he breathed, shuddering at the cold glint that spread across the face, millimetres from his own. A harsh laugh utterly devoid of any humour, erupted from the other man's lips.

"I'm Lord Anderson Mr Hummel. Perhaps you've heard of me? My father was ruler of this city for the last forty years before he died last month. Now it's all come to me. I own this city Mr Hummel and everyone in it."

Kurt reeled backwards away from the man, taking a large gulp of air as his eyes widened in shock. Of course he'd heard of him. Richard Anderson had been notorious for his cruel and selfish rule over the city and it was widely attributed to him that all of its people were suffering from the recession in various stages of poverty and unemployment. He looked around him at the gilded luxury of this house and felt bile rise in his throat. The younger Anderson watched him in mild amusement at the obvious recognition flashing across his face before he brushed past him and moved across the hallway towards another door on the left hand side of the room.

"Of course, I am far more reasonable than my father was, so perhaps we could come to some kind of an arrangement." He threw the words over his shoulder, not even bothering to look at the Kurt, as he entered what looked to be an office. Kurt had little choice but to follow; his father was desperately sick at the moment and prolonged exposure to cold and harsh conditions would undoubtedly kill him. He forced himself to stand up to his full height and confront the other man now sat casually in a large dark green leather chair behind a mahogany desk.

"What sort of arrangement?"

Dark eyes raked over him yet again and Kurt fought the urge to squirm as he felt like a slab of meat ready for dissection. "I'll let him go on one condition."

Kurt sucked on his breath, knowing that the condition was going to be a heavy price; one that he was sure he would have to pay many times over judging by the look of dark victory already spread across the other man's hard features.

"I'll free him, without charge, but you must come and work for me."

Kurt's mouth fell open and he felt the nausea rising in his throat again. He clamped his jaw shut, unwilling to show this man any weakness. "What do you mean work for you?" he whispered, steeling himself against the answer.

Blaine Anderson smiled, a slow and twisted movement that curled his lips up into a sneer.

"You will live here with me. You will have a room here with every luxury you could wish for. In return, I will free your father. I will ensure his business continues and he will have proper medical assistance."

"Why would you do that? You don't know me. You know nothing about me. Why would you want me to live here with you? What will my ‘work' entail?" he spat out the last words knowing the answer already from the way that the other man was currently looking at him; devouring him with his eyes.  

"You will live here Kurt. You will serve me. You will serve me in any way I require and you will never be allowed to leave."

Tears welled again in Kurt's eyes as the words seared through him. He felt them spill over his cheeks and didn't even bother to brush them away. He'd known life was hard in these times. His father had tried to protect him so many times from the realities of the world and had told him over and over how they would fight the oppression of the people from the ruling classes; the Lords of each city and their tyranny. He had spent so many nights with his father telling him stories of how they were going to be different, live their own lives and now he had to protect his father instead. It was his fight now.

 He looked across at the Blaine Anderson's emotionless face, impassive and bored, as his own heart disintegrated into ash at his feet.

"Ok." He whispered, barely audible. "I agree to your conditions."