by Vivian Arend
Over and over again, he hit the place inside her sex that sent little sparks of pleasure seeping into her blood. With each stroke, he brought her closer to the edge. She tightened around him, the tension coiling inside her womb. And when she reached the tipping point, she clung to him before surrendering to the ecstasy.
He quickly followed, burying himself deep inside her with a guttural cry.
The comforting weight of his body on hers was the first thing she noticed when the haze cleared. She ran her hands up and down his spine, coaxing him back to coherent words. “Point proven,” she murmured.
“If I wasn’t so exhausted from the last few days, I could’ve lasted longer.”
“You’ll have another chance to show me again.”
He lifted his head from her chest and brushed a lock of her tangled hair from her face. Lines of worry creased his forehead. “Sexta, please be honest with me. Did you order your men to attack my ship?”
The warm glow fled when she saw the doubt still lingering in his eyes. She shook her head. “No, I told you what I saw. Barbarians took over my ship and fired the cannons, not my men. Furthermore, Djer and I saw something else we haven’t told you.”
He propped himself up on his elbow. “What?”
She shifted under him, already sensing his disbelief before she’d even had a chance to describe what she’d seen. “As we were pulling out of the docks, I saw a Barbarian lean over a fallen soldier and take his form.”
Marcus bolted up, his brows bunched together. “Are you joking?”
“I wish I were. He dissolved the soldier’s body and used it to disguise his own like a mask.” She sat up and reached for him. If they were to have any chance at stopping the Barbarians, she needed to convince him first. “Please, Marcus, you have to believe me. What if that’s the reason we couldn’t find any bodies? What if the Barbarians took the forms of the citizens of Shalfak? How many of them could be living here in Emona, ready to strike?”
He backed away as if she were a madwoman and stood at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. “It just seems too preposterous.”
“So was the idea of the Barbarians sneaking past the barrier, but you and I both saw how they found a way around that.” She held the sheet to her chest and got up on her knees, edging closer to him. “Please, Marcus, no matter what the emperor chooses to believe when he finally questions me, please remember this. If we can find a way to spot them before they attack—”
“And what do you suggest I do? Douse everyone in the empire with water to see how they react? Slice open their wrists to see what color their blood is?” He paced alongside the bed with quick, jerky strides. “I want to believe you, but...”
“But it’s too ridiculous, right?” She sat back on her heels and stared at the rumpled sheets. “Djer and I ran into the same problem when we were trying to come up with a way to expose the Barbarians who might already be around us. But we both know what we saw, and we’re both determined to stop them, one way or another. I’d just hoped you’d believe me.”
He paused and threw his hands up into the air with an exasperated curse. Then he leaned forward on the edge of the mattress. “Let me guess—you’re already coming up with some crazy scheme to escape and go hunting for them yourselves.”
“We talked about it, but I reminded him of my promise to you.” She looked him in the eye, hoping she’d finally be able to get him to believe her. “But the one place we would start would be with Numicius Aculeo.”
He straightened. “Why?”
“He’s the one who hired us, and he’s the one who outfitted my ship with an engine unlike any in the empire. If anyone might have ties to the Barbarians, it would be him.”
“Damn it.” He resumed pacing. “And I suppose you’d like me to bring him in for questioning?”
“More like keep an eye on him. But if you approach him, don’t go alone.” She caught him and pulled him back into the bed. Her chest tightened as she ran her hand along the side of his cheeks. She hadn’t thought it possible to fall even more deeply in love with him. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
He brought her hand to his lips. “I promise, so long as you agree to stay safely within these walls.”
“And are these walls safe for me?”
His expression darkened. “I’ll do my best to make it so.”
“Then I trust that you will.” She wrapped his arms around her shoulder and curled her body into his, pressing her ear against his chest. “But for now, we both need sleep.”
The steady drum of his heart eased her worries and lulled her to sleep. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but as long as Marcus was beside her, she felt protected.
Less than a week ago, she’d feared losing her ship, her freedom. She’d feared the dark and being trapped in a small space. Now, the only thing she feared was losing the man who possessed her heart.
CHAPTER TEN
Marcus tried to crawl out of bed without waking Sexta, but as soon as he moved, she opened her eyes. “Trying to sneak out on me?”
“More like trying to speak to Titus before he questions you. I want to tell him about the whole Barbarians in disguise thing and see how he reacts.”
“And if he doesn’t believe you?”
Marcus’s shoulders tensed. Would Titus believe something when he barely believed it himself? He reached for a clean tunic and pulled it on. “I’ll do my best.”
He turned around to find Sexta reclining in his bed, the sheet barely covering the most tempting parts of her body. His cock began to stiffen at the thought of yanking off his clothes and making love to her one more time, but he forced himself to turn away before he gave into the temptation. The empire was still in danger.
He sat down in a chair across the room and strapped on his sandals. “I’ll have Varro find you a dress to wear before Titus sends for you.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“And I’ll relieve you of this.” He picked up the dagger she’d kept under her pillow last night and recognized it as one of the weapons he’d hidden in his cabin. “Care to declare any more knives?”
“Just that one.”
He tucked it into a sheath and secured it to his thigh under his tunic. “I’m also thinking of following up on your suspicions about Numicius. I’d asked Varro to send a member of the Legion in disguise to spy on him, and once I get the report, I’ll probably take over.”
Her eyes widened with panic, but part of him wondered if it was for him or herself. “Please, don’t go alone. If there’s any truth to my theory—”
“I work better alone.” He straightened his tunic. “Less noticeable.”
“And if you get into trouble?”
“I’ll get out of it, just like I always do.”
“Even a cat reaches the end of their nine lives, Marcus.”
He closed his eyes and pushed down the storm of emotion swirling in the pit of his stomach. He’d never shied away from danger before, but now, he was having second thoughts. All because of her. Selfish bastard. You’re willing to duck duty to be with her. “Let me talk with Titus first, and if he agrees with you, I’ll bring backup.”
He unlocked the door and turned around after he opened it. “Stay here, please.”
She bit her lip and lifted her chin as though she was about to challenge him, but then lowered it in a slow nod. “I’ll stay as long as it’s safe for me to do so.”
Not what I wanted to hear. He gave her a stern look before he closed the door behind him and locked it again. Even with the guards posted outside his door, it would probably take a special miracle from the gods if he found her there tonight.
After a quick stop to one of the fountains to wash his face, he made his way to the throne room. Titus stood by the massive bronze globe in the center of the room. Every morning, he ran his fingers over the glowing lines that represented the barrier, reinforcing it with his magic—one of the imperial duties Marcus did not envy. But the glowing lines burned wi
th the same intensity they had since Azurha arrived. No flickering. No signs of weakness. No breaches detected.
Marcus waited outside the revolving rings that surrounded the globe for Titus to finish. No one dared to step into the sacred space except for the emperor or empress. “How are you holding up?”
“Very well, considering how little sleep I got last night.” Titus ducked under the rings and motioned for Marcus to follow him to the private room off to the side.
“The baby kept you up with the screaming?”
“Hardly,” he replied with a chuckle. “More like I couldn’t take my eyes off of him as he slept.”
“I hope you’re not planning on doing that every night. You can’t run an empire without some sleep.” Marcus picked up an apple from the food table and polished it on his tunic. “Does he have a name yet?”
“Manius Ranefer Sergius Flavus.”
“Quite a mouthful.”
“He’ll grow into it.” Titus sank into a chair and leaned his head on his hand. “I was thinking about what you told me last night.”
“Good, because Sexta was kind enough to reveal some disturbing information she’d been withholding from me.”
His best friend lifted his head. “What?”
As tempting as the apple looked, he couldn’t bring himself to bite into it. His stomach was too knotted for food. “She claims she saw a Barbarian assume the appearance of an Elymanian.”
Titus straightened in his chair and gripped the arms. “Say that again?”
“You heard me. She has this crazy notion that the Barbarians are trying to infiltrate the empire under these disguises.” He glanced at the apple one more time before placing it back in the bowl.
“And do you believe her?”
The tough question he’d been dreading since last night. His heart and mind warred with each other until he finally silenced both of them and listened to his gut. “Sexta is a great many things, but she’s not a traitor.”
Titus leaned back in the chair and rested his chin in his hand. A lone finger pressed against his lips the way he always did when he was reminding himself to think before speaking. A long minute stretched by. “Then I will have to pay close attention to what she says when I question her today. You, of course, will not be allowed inside the room when I do.”
“You think I’d be too emotionally involved, right?” Marcus asked with a wry smile.
“Are you going to argue that you wouldn’t be?”
He shook his head. Sexta had him both by the balls and the heartstring. “I’ve already made other plans for the day.”
“Doing what?”
“My own little investigation into Numicius Aculeo.”
“Then perhaps you’d like to know what we’ve observed so far. He’s remained inside his villa since you left. Several Elymanians and Alpirions—common laborers, from the look of them—have been spotted going in, but none have left.”
A new level of unease stirred in his already unquiet mind. “I doubt they’d be honored guests of a Deizian lord.”
“I agree, but they could be doing renovations to his villa.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why the interest in him?”
“Because he’s the one who hired Sexta to make that delivery to Shalfak.” And if she’s right about him being one of the Barbarians, the gods help us all.
His best friend frowned. “Perhaps it would be easier to bring him here.”
“No, don’t. As far as we know, he doesn’t realize Sexta has turned on him. It will be much easier to uncover the truth if he’s not on the defensive.”
Titus’s frown deepened. “Are you planning on sneaking into his villa?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he replied, wondering if Rufius had shared the predicament he’d gotten himself into the other night.
“I know this goes without saying, but be careful.”
“I always am.” As he made his way to the door, he remembered his promise to Sexta. “And I’ll bring Rufius for backup.”
Some of the tension eased from Titus’s face. “I think that’s a much better plan. Just make sure you’re back for Manius’s official presentation this evening.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
“It would be much easier if we stormed the walls with a regiment of the Legion and took him out,” Rufius muttered as they crept through the thick brush in the ravine behind Numicius’s villa.
“That’s more Galerius’s style, not mine. I prefer stealth.”
“And a lot of scratches.”
Marcus ignored the soldier’s complaints and stared up the face of the cliff. The morning sun was glowing on the other side of the villa, bathing the ravine in dark shadows. They had until noon to get inside, and he offered a silent prayer to the gods they wouldn’t get caught. “Fine. You can stay down here while I go in.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you brought me along to be your nanny.” Rufius set down the bag of gear he’d insisted on bringing with a grunt.
“If the sandal fits...” He gave Rufius a cheeky grin and began plotting his ascent, mentally marking the best places for finger- and footholds. “If I’m not back in an hour, I want you to report back to the emperor.”
“Without trying to rescue you first? What kind of rotten excuse for a soldier do you take me for?”
“The kind that would put the safety of the empire first.”
Rufius scowled, but said nothing as he laced his fingers together to give Marcus a boost.
He’d forgotten what arduous work it was to climb a cliff without a rope, not to mention nerve-racking. Sweat beaded along his forehead as he carefully inched along the soft rock, searching for a sturdy ledge that would support his weight. His shoulder protested every foot he climbed with a deep burning pain. But even as he crested the top, he had little time to rest. He had less than an hour to find out if Numicius was connected to the Barbarians.
He stood and brushed the dust off his tunic. If there was one small blessing about the climb, it made him look more like a common laborer. He pulled out a leather cap from his pocket and pulled it lower over his head. As long as he kept his eyes down, perhaps no one would notice their color.
The grounds were uncommonly quiet for this time of day. By now the lord of the manor should be awake and receiving guests. The slaves should be busy with their chores. But as he approached the villa, he didn’t see a single soul.
The hairs on his arm rose in warning, but he pressed on. The only way to find answers was to seek them out himself. He slipped through a side door that led to the empty kitchen and paused.
The fires had gone out.
He stiffened his legs to keep from running back to the cliff. This reminded him too much of Shalfak.
His stomach dropped. Maybe Sexta was right about everything. And if she was...
He spun around to leave, but found a soldier standing in the doorway. His uniform matched the squadron stationed at Shalfak, but his eyes were flat and dark, his face void of emotion. He drew his gladius and advanced.
Marcus’s throat tightened, and he backed away, his gaze focused on the approaching soldier. By the gods, Sexta’s story was looking more and more plausible. And he was the only one who could warn Titus.
He turned to run the other way, but found himself face to face with another soldier with flat, black eyes. His breath caught. Trapped. He searched the kitchen for a weapon, something he could use to waylay his attackers and escape. When he spotted the pitcher of water, his heart danced a little jig. He dove for it and hurled its contents on his attackers.
They both backed away with a hiss. Gray skin appeared where the droplets landed, confirming what he hadn’t been ready to admit.
The Barbarians shook off the water, and the patches of gray skin vanished. Their lips curled up into cruel smiles, and they continued to come after him at the same steady pace.
His pulse quickened. If they wanted him dead, they would’ve charged by now. Something was very wrong about
this.
Another Elymanian appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, a woman this time, but still with the same black eyes. No escape there. The only other way out led right into the heart of the villa, and who knew how many more Barbarians waited for him inside. He feinted toward the outside door and then reversed, making a break for the only escape he could find.
The interior courtyard was empty, and he dashed across it to the silent fountain in the center to scoop what was left of the water into his pitcher. If they chased him, he’d be more than happy to give them another bath.
The next doorway led to a side room filled with abandoned embroidery frames and half-finished tapestries. He sprinted past them and into the next room before skidding to a halt.
It was the chamber that had been filled with wealthy Deizians the other night, but now, the occupants appeared to be some of the missing citizens of Shalfak.
And sitting on a daïs on the far side of the room like a false emperor was Numicius.
A cold grin matched the light in his eyes. They were still blue, but when he blinked, Marcus caught a flash of black.
His mouth went dry. If I get out of here alive, I’ll never doubt Sexta again.
“Marcus, so kind of you to pay me a visit.”
The tip of a blade poked the flesh between his shoulder blades, and Marcus took a step forward. The crowd parted as he passed, their expressions matching their leader’s.
“Quite the crew you have here,” he joked while his mind raced for options. The soldiers behind him continued to nudge him forward with their weapons. There were two doorways behind Numicius, but the only way he could see getting through the crowd would be to sprinkle them with water like a high priest and pray it distracted them enough for him to plow his way through them. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d smuggled half the city of Shalfak here.”