by Monica Burns
She had him over a barrel, and she knew it. There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that she’d do exactly what she said, and Emma would follow. As for Cleo, the woman would find it more than amusing to go rogue for a few hours the minute she heard what had happened. It wouldn’t matter to Cleo what penalty she’d have to pay for doing so. And knowing Atia’s sense of humor, the Prima Consul would find it amusing that the women had balked at the reason he and Ares had for refusing to take the two with them. It was unlikely Atia would impose even a small punishment on any of the women if they disobeyed orders to stay in the installation.
“Merda,” he snarled as he turned to Ares. “Suggestions?”
His friend’s expression was one of furious resignation. Ares glared at his wife then his sister. “They don’t leave us much choice. And I’d rather have Emma with me than worry about her traipsing around the city in the middle of the night all by herself.”
“You say that as if you’re the only one who worries,” Emma said sharply. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might spend my nights worrying about you?”
Ares grimaced at the accusatory note in his wife’s voice and released a harsh sigh. Like Ares, Lysander was growing resigned to the fact that they had little choice but to let the women come with them. He sent Phaedra a hard look before turning to Pasquale.
“Get Cleo. She’ll balance out the strength of the team,” he said to the other warrior. “Meet us in the garage. We’ll take the Land Rovers.”
The Sicari fighter nodded and hurried from the room. With the other man gone, he looked at first Emma and then Phaedra. “The two of you are going to do exactly as you’re told or I’m going to see to it that Atia sends both of you to the White Cloud estate until Ares and I are done here in Rome. You got that?”
“I think we can manage that, can’t we, Emma?” Phaedra said as honey dripped off every one of her words.
It set his nerves on edge, and not in a good way. If she could get this furious with him about being left out of an expedition, it was clear the minute she learned his secret her
reaction would be explosive.
Chapter 19
THE cold silence filling the Land Rover made Phaedra extremely uncomfortable. She knew the two men in the front seat were furious with her and Emma, but it couldn’t be helped. The idea of Lysander and her brother going out on a mission without a healer terrified her. There were a hell of a lot more Praetorians here than there were back home in Chicago.
A fact she wondered if Lysander was aware of at a subconscious level. Cleo had been right about Lysander taking more risks over the past year when it came to his fighting Praetorians. She’d gone into the Order’s database and reviewed the past year’s reports on missions where he’d encountered Praetorians. She was certain it was because of what had happened to him, and the thought of him taking on more risk without a healer close enough to keep him alive was terrifying. She jumped as Emma touched her arm. As she met her sister-in-law’s somber gaze, Emma nodded toward the two men in the front seat.
“They’ll get over it,” her sister-in-law whispered with a slight smile.
She nodded. Yes, but at what cost to the precious ground she’d gained with Lysander. He was still skittish about their relationship. While everyone in the installation knew they were involved, he kept his distance from her emotionally when they were in front of others. It made her believe he didn’t want to openly acknowledge they were a couple, and it stung.
Then he’d do something like he did tonight. He’d been protecting her again. She didn’t like the way he’d tried to do it, but his motivation warmed her heart. There was a comforting sensation to being treated like a prized possession he needed to protect. It irritated the hell out of her, but she couldn’t deny that there was a part of her that liked his authoritative manner. It made up for some of the distance he maintained with her in front of others. It showed he cared, and that’s what mattered the most to her.
Lysander suddenly doused the lights of the car and slowly drove about another half-mile farther down the deserted roadway before he pulled off the pavement and proceeded to back the car into a large expanse of foliage until vegetation partially engulfed the vehicle. As he shut off the engine, he shifted in his seat to look at her and Emma.
“Don’t forget what I said,” he said in a terse tone. “I’ll have Atia send you back to White Cloud so fast it’ll make your heads spin if you step out of line tonight. Capicse?”
Beside her, Emma nodded, and she did the same. The look he gave her seemed particularly harsh compared to the look he’d given Emma. How long would it take him to get over being angry with her? At least as long as it took for them to get out of the Circus Maxentius without incident. Fear for her safety was driving his anger, just as her fear for
him drove her to insist on coming with him. He was nervous about the possibility of running into Praetorians, and she understood that.
It wasn’t exactly something she was hoping for, but she sure as hell wouldn’t mind killing one or two of the bastardi for all the pain they’d caused the two of them. With a grunt of irritation, Lysander looked at Ares and jerked his head toward a high wall across the street.
“Let’s do this.” His sharp command made her wince as he got out of the car.
She slipped out of the backseat of the vehicle and closed the door with a quiet thud. In the darkness, the black Land Rover blended in with the foliage, concealing the vehicle to the point that it would go unnoticed by passing cars. Directly beside them, Luciano had parked in the same way, and she saw Cleo getting out of the second Land Rover’s front seat. Cleo sent her a conspiratorial wink as her friend took in Lysander’s grim expression.
Overhead, clouds drifted across the moon, affording them just enough light to see without making them obvious targets when they had to cross the ground between them and the circus wall. With everyone gathered around him, Lysander nodded toward the stone fence.
“Okay, we’ve got a mixture of brush and open ground to cover before we reach the circus wall. Phaedra? Anything?” He looked at her in a clear indication he wanted to know if she sensed any Praetorian presence. When she shook her head, he gave her a sharp nod. “All right, let’s move fast and stay alert.”
No one questioned his orders as the team quickly crossed the two-lane highway and headed toward the stone facade that had once housed thousands of spectators. It took several minutes of a steady jog to reach the wall surrounding the ruins. Lysander motioned for Luciano to go over the wall first, and then Cleo. While it would have been easier to move farther down the length of the structure to find an opening in the crumbling wall, she knew it would waste precious time. As the two fighters vanished over the wall, he turned his head toward his shoulder.
“Cleo, Pasquale. Status?” Lysander’s voice echoed softly in her ear through the surveillance gear she wore just like everyone else.
“All clear,” Cleo said in a soft voice.
At the confirmation, Lysander nodded at Ares and Emma. Less than thirty seconds later, Ares used his telekinetic ability to effortlessly lift Emma up over his head until her hands grabbed at the top of the surface. As her sister-in-law disappeared over the stone barrier, Lysander turned to her.
The harsh expression he’d been wearing in the car hadn’t softened as he gestured for her to step into the saddle stirrup he made of his hands. She suppressed a sigh of resignation.
If the man thought to make her regret her decision to force his hand in bringing her with him, he was mistaken. She wasn’t going to let him out of her sight if she could help it.
She stepped forward, and with a small hop into the makeshift step he offered her, she allowed him to propel her upward to the top of the wall. In seconds, she landed on the opposite side, with Lysander and Ares following her in short order.
Stretched out before them was the wide expanse that had once served as a track for chariot races. In the middle were the remains of what had been the spina. Emma looked at Lysander a
nd nodded in the direction of the barrier that ran down the middle of the huge, oval track.
“The obelisk would have been at that end, closest to the imperial box,” she said quietly as she surveyed what was left of the spina. “There’s not much left in the way of a good foundation, but hopefully the Tyet of Isis is still here.”
“Phaedra.” Lysander didn’t look at her, but her entire body vibrated when he spoke her name. He didn’t have to ask the question for her to know he wanted a confirmation of her earlier assessment of any Praetorian presence.
“Nothing. If there’s a Praetorian anywhere nearby, they’re exceptional at disguising their whereabouts.”
She saw him go rigid at her response, and she frowned. It was almost as if he were expecting trouble. He nodded sharply.
“Pasquale, you’re to help Emma with that folding shovel of yours. The rest of us will stand guard.”
Not needing a direct order, the team moved quickly along the remains of the stone divider running down the middle of the circus. The length of the barrier was almost a quarter of a mile long, and as they reached the end, she was marveling at the engineering that had to have gone into the immense complex.
The clouds parted slightly as they reached the end of the stone divide. Emma knelt on the ground and illuminated the stones in front of her with a small penlight. Over the next hour, Emma examined every inch of the ruins at her feet. Occasionally, she’d mutter to herself as she studied the stone foundation. The sudden sound of her sharp inhale made the entire team turn in her direction.
“Give me the shovel.” With a sharp gesture at Pasquale, she extended her hand for the tool. Luciano unfolded the small spade and handed it to her. Ares took a couple of steps closer to her.
“You found something, inamorato?” Phaedra could hear the excitement in her brother’s voice as he leaned down slightly over his wife.
“It’s a metal plate of some sort directly beneath this stone.” Emma said as she gently scraped away at the dirt surrounding the granite.
“Wouldn’t someone have seen it before now?” Pasquale’s cynicism matched Phaedra’s.
“No. It was covered with the mud they used for mortar.” Emma worked carefully to scoop away dirt from under the stone as she continued her explanation. “Whoever put it here had to have dug under the original marble that encased the spina and shoved it under the stone. It might just be a marker or something the engineers used, too. I won’t be sure until I can look at it.”
The excitement in the group resonated across Phaedra’s senses. She knew everyone was hoping they were going to find the Tyet of Isis, but under that exhilaration was a tension that made her nervous as hell. There was a familiarity to it she didn’t like. She slowly turned to study the large, open expanse they were in. Nothing seemed out of place or odd, but the sensation that something was wrong grew inside her. In that instant, Lysander was beside her.
“What is it?”
“I’m not sure. It just doesn’t feel right.”
He didn’t wait for further details. He simply dipped his head toward the mike he wore on his shoulder. “Emma, we don’t have time to be cautious here. Dig fast.”
As she turned back toward her brother and sister-in-law, Phaedra caught a glimpse of movement at one of the main towers that stood at one end of the circus. Her nerve endings screamed a warning, and she automatically drew her sword. The minute she did so, the soft whisper of other swords leaving their leather casings echoed in her ears.
She took a couple of steps toward the tower as the clouds parted so the moon could illuminate the landscape. The shadowy figure moving near the tower made her suck in her breath with relief. A cow. Il Christi omnipotentia, it was just a cow. All around her, she could sense the relief, and she was certain it was Cleo whose amusement was filtering through the group’s sudden release of tension. Behind her, she heard her sister-in-law’s exclamation of triumph and turned back toward her at the same time as the rest of the small party.
“Got it,” Emma said with a strong note of satisfaction. Her fingers gently brushed across the dirt-encrusted metal as Ares’s hand caught his wife’s elbow and pulled her to her feet.
“You can look at it later,” he said gruffly. Despite the brusque note of concern in his voice, there was a hint of pride as well.
Lysander nodded at Ares’s statement. “Okay, we got what we came for, so let’s move.”
“And what if it isn’t what we came for? At least let me figure out what I’m holding.” The moonlight illuminated Emma’s stubborn expression as she glared up at Ares. The minute she saw her brother hesitate, Phaedra nodded.
“She’s right. If it’s not what we came for, we’ll have to do this all over again. We’re here, let’s finish it.” She met Lysander’s hard gaze steadily. They both knew Emma was right, but she could tell he didn’t want to admit it.
“Va bene,” he snapped with a note of disgust in his voice. “Quickly. The longer we stay here, the greater our chances of running into trouble.”
Emma hadn’t waited for his approval and had already pulled a small brush from the backpack she carried. She thrust her penlight into her husband’s hand and forced him to hold it so the light shone on the metal plate’s encrusted surface.
“Damn it, it’s all in Latin. Give me a tablet of hieroglyphs, and I can rattle it off like the alphabet,” Emma sighed with disgust as she looked up at her husband. “Latin never held any interest for me, until I met you, mio amor.”
“Let me try,” Ares murmured. He directed a steady beam of light down at the piece of metal as he studied the artifact Emma tilted in his direction. “The Tyet of Isis … Octavian … center of all that is Sicari.”
Phaedra jumped the instant her brother said Octavian’s name. Without thinking, she jerked her head in Lysander’s direction. Did he recognize the name, too? A flash of indefinable emotion flitted across his face before he assumed the stoic look he’d perfected. It didn’t matter how much he tried to hide it, she was certain he’d recognized Octavian’s name and its significance.
“Who the fuck is Octavian?” Cleo asked in an irritated manner. “Christus, this clue isn’t any clearer than the ones we already have.”
“Octavian is the Praetorian who betrayed Maxentius at the Battle of Milvian Bridge,” Lysander murmured then stiffened as if suddenly realizing he’d spoken out loud.
“How do you know that?” Ares frowned as he stared at his friend in surprise, and the question made Lysander’s scarred cheek muscles grow taut across his cheekbone.
“Something I read somewhere, I think.” Lysander shrugged, and Phaedra was certain he made it a point not to look in her direction as he turned to Emma. “Are you satisfied this is what we came for?”
“Yes. It might not be what we were hoping to find, but it tells us we’re on the right track,” her sister-in-law said as Lysander nodded then glanced around at the team.
“All right, everyone. We’re done here. Let’s move.” He sheathed his sword and waited for the others to follow suit. “Pasquale. Take point.”
Like a well-oiled machine, they all turned and headed back the way they’d come. The distance between them and the wall closed rapidly as the group maintained a steady jog. Beside him, Lysander could sense Phaedra’s gaze on him every few seconds. Up until he’d heard Octavian’s name, his anger at the way she’d wrangled her way onto this expedition had been at a steady boil. But the instant he heard Ares read the plate, resignation, and more than a hint of panic, had replaced his anger.
The minute she got him alone, she was going to force him to admit that their dreams were interconnected. And at the moment, he didn’t have a leg to stand on when it came to arguing against her logic. When he’d heard Octavian’s name, it had been like having someone kick him in the teeth. He’d known exactly who the bastardo was and what he’d done to Maximus’s men at that last battle.
Vivid images of Quinton being struck down by a fireball from a catapult and dead bodies floating in t
he Tiber River swept through his head until a chill slid down his back. They were dreams, nothing more. He knew it was a tired argument, and Phaedra wasn’t about to let him dodge the bullet this time. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to like admitting it either.