Deal with the Devil

Chapter 21

Tom gave her time to calm down, thinking. He supposed it shouldn't have surprised him, given the times she had sneered at Aurek Vablatsky's name, her insisted distance from the man, her odd reactions to affection and certain pet names, the first memory he'd seen of hers months ago. It all fit together.

He was strangely calm, having just learned someone who belonged to him was being abused in such a way. There were few acts which Tom found truly depraved, depths of evil to which he would not descend. What had happened to Elena throughout her childhood was one. Magical children were a treasure to be molded, not receptacles for a deviant's pleasure.

Leaving magical children to starve in orphanages, abusing them... these were all wrong.

Something dripped down his hand and he looked down. He'd apparently clenched his hand so hard blood had started to leak from it. He waved his wand then stood and walked out of the parlor. He smiled at the Notts and Leticia, bade them goodnight, and went upstairs.

He listened at her door for a moment, wondering if he could make out soft sobs, or if he was mishearing the wind outside in the eaves. From what he'd seen of her in the past, Elena was quiet in her pain. Tom slowly swung the door open and he could see her back turned toward him from where she lay on the bed. She stiffened.

"Get out," Elena's voice rasped.

The door closed behind him and he sat on the bed, laid a hand on her shoulder, turned her toward him. Her face was dry now, though he could see the tracks from her tears. She stared past him.

"I don't allow others to touch what's mine," he said.

A bitter laugh choked its way from her throat. "Are you going to punish me for it, then?"

"No. I'm going to stop it from happening."

She hesitantly inspected his expression. "Why?"

He arched his brow. "I told you. You are mine, and no one touches what is mine. What that— man— did..." Tom's nostrils flared as he sucked in air. "There are things even I find distasteful, Elena." His hand stroked over her salty cheek. "That is one of them. When I am done with him, Aurek Vablatsky will never think of touching a child again. He will certainly know better than to touch you."

"Oh."

"I would kill him, but," he watched as panic set in, then said, "that might risk your deal with them. I know you do not want that."

Elena swallowed, nodded. She laid there like that for a while, and he sat beside her, idly petting her cheek, her neck, her soft hair. Her breathing deepened, her eyelids growing heavier and fluttering until they shut completely. Tom watched her as she drifted, her face at peace, then gently removed himself from beside her. As he neared the door, her soft voice said, "Thank you."

--

To anyone who did not know Tom Riddle, they might think he cared for the small young woman he'd collected. He was attentive during the few days before they would leave to her family home. He woke her for breakfast if she slept too late, encouraged her to rest, to eat regular meals.

When she trudged downstairs on her own the morning they were due to leave, he raised a brow and said, "Sleeping beauty awakens, and graces us with her presence." He stood and pulled out a chair for her. "Good morning, pet."

"Good morning," Elena responded primly, reaching toward the water pitcher. Tom got there first, filling her glass. She rubbed at her temple, but murmured, "Thank you," lest he dislike her lack of manners. Tom was unfailingly polite, and expected his followers to be the same.