Time Raiders: The Seeker

by Lindsay McKenna

  “No disagreement there,” she said drily, glancing at him from across the room. Jake had taken off his armor, and his dark brown tunic stretched across his magnificent chest. A chest she was so familiar with. Delia didn’t try to stop the memories of grazing his taut flesh with her fingertips, or the soft, curly hair that grew there. He was incredibly masculine in all the right ways.

  Jake walked toward the door. “I’m going to find out what’s going on. See if that Egyptian guard talked under torture yet or not. You stay here and rest, okay?”

  Nodding, Delia said, “I’ll be all right, Jake. Just go do your duty. When you get back, we need to plot how to get into that temple. Things are escalating around here and I’m not ready for another attack on Servilia or her household.” Delia patted her wounded leg. “Not now.”

  Grimly, Jake looked into her golden eyes. “No more fighting for you, sweetheart. You’re officially on the disabled list. Got it?”

  For once, Delia didn’t contradict his gruffly spoken words. “Yes, sir.” She saw care in Jake’s eyes, and desire burning there as well. Her skin reacted with a hot flush from the top of her head to her toes. His fervent gaze, the huskiness of his voice were the responses of a lover. Did he know that? No, he couldn’t. She trembled inwardly, knowing that right now she needed whatever Jake could give her.

  The door closed quietly and Delia was alone. Frowning, she rubbed her arms, feeling the chill in the room. Exhaustion was avalanching down upon her as the adrenaline burned out of her system.

  Limping to the couch, she stretched out on it, careful not to bump her sore leg. As she drew the blanket across her shoulders, she worried about Jake.

  And what about that scribe with the red aura? She sensed he was dangerous to them. Was he still in the house? she wondered groggily.

  Moments later, Delia was asleep.

  Torbar knew that Kentar was going to appear shortly in his apartment at General Brutus’s home. He’d received word telepathically an hour ago of his leader’s wish for a mission status report. Torbar sensed a rippling effect in the apartment. Looking toward the door, he saw his leader slowly congeal before him.

  “Welcome, my lord,” Torbar murmured in their language. Kentar stood before him in the guise of a rich shipping merchant. Not only could a Navigator possess a body, he could appear and disappear at will.

  Kentar swept in and waited impatiently as Torbar closed the door and leaned against it. “What is going on?”

  Torbar told him quickly. Once finished, he waited, watching Kentar’s scowl deepen as he thought.

  “I was disturbed by your report on these two Greek soldiers with silver in their auras. You can’t get any information from these two Greek mercenaries protecting Servilia?”

  The lord of the Centaurian system sat down at a marble table and poured himself a cup of red wine. Torbar cringed inwardly at the scathing tone in his voice.

  “My lord, they seem impervious to anything I can do to get a read on their auras or their minds.”

  “Humph. What do you make of this silver lining in their auras?”

  “I’ve never seen it in an Earthling before. Does anything in our historical archives speak to this?”

  Shaking his head, Kentar finished the wine and wiped his mouth. “No. It’s an anomaly as far as I’m concerned.”

  “But something is causing it,” Torbar said, spreading his hands. “I can’t find what. Is it within them? Is it something they are wearing? I just don’t know.”

  “All right,” Kentar growled, “then do it another way. Hire one of the best prostitutes in Rome and send her to lower that soldier’s guard.” The Centaurian snorted. “Tell the woman to seduce him, undress him, and see if he wears a piece of jewelry or a pouch with a fetish in it…whatever…and have her report back to you.”

  “A good tactic,” Torbar mused, then he shook his head. “I’m very frustrated, my lord. My abilities are unquestionable.”

  Waving his hand impatiently, Kentar stood up and strode to the door. “They may be from another galaxy, Torbar. Had you considered that?”

  Stunned, he stared at his leader. “Er…no, I had not, my lord.”

  “For all we know this could be their first foray into our galaxy and they’re snooping around. If it is, we need to know where they are from and what they want.” Rubbing his bearded chin, he added, “What I do not like about this is the fact that this alien race has chosen Earth, of all places. These interlopers may know about Navigator genetics here and may be on a research mission.”

  Torbar’s mouth dropped open. “That cannot happen, my lord! If anyone in this galaxy or any other gets their hands on Earthling females and engages their talents, our empire will collapse. We will lose our power.”

  Glaring at him, Kentar snarled, “That fact is not lost on me, Torbar. Don’t get dramatic. That’s my job.” He jabbed his finger into the scribe’s chest. “Get the best prostitute to approach the male mercenary. Let’s see if she can melt his barriers.”

  Torbar bowed deeply to Kentar. “It shall be as you instruct, my lord. As soon as I hear back from her, I will contact you.”

  “Good,” Kentar huffed. Turning, he pinned Torbar with a lethal look. “And I do not want to have to come back to this primitive planet ever again. Do you hear me?”

  Tullia strolled through Servilia’s atrium, a bouquet of spring flowers in her hand. The midmorning sun shone brightly in a blue sky that was rare at this time in February. The guards at the gate had allowed her immediate entrance because they recognized her as one of the most skilled women in the arts of love in the city. Tullia was greatly admired and said to be the goddess Venus come to Earth.

  Smiling inwardly, she glowed over the fact that Kapaneus, the scribe, had given her a gold aureus to come here and subdue Philip of Delos. She was to mold him into pliable clay with her soft, creative fingers. Tullia could not discern why it was so important to know what jewelry the mercenary wore. A silly request, she thought, but shrugged it off as a slave brought her to the soldier’s apartment.

  Jake had just returned from the baths, and was standing naked by the table when the door opened. Turning, he scowled. No one was to enter his apartment without knocking first. His brows flew upward when a tall, lithe young woman entered. She was dressed in a pale pink wool tunic and white palla, her black hair brought up on top of her head and anchored in place with a gleaming gold circlet. Her sultry gaze moved from Jake’s feet up to his crotch, where it remained. A very pleased look came to her face.

  “Ah, Philip of Delos,” she whispered, “my name is Tullia and I am a gift for you.” She opened her hands and floated across the room toward the man with the powerful build.

  Swallowing shock, Jake didn’t feel at all concerned about his nakedness. This young woman, whoever she was, had an inviting, husky tone. Her green eyes were huge and outlined with kohl. Her lips were painted a bright red and her cheeks were pink.

  “A gift?” he demanded, ruthlessly probing her mind. Jake instantly saw Tullia wince. She stopped, a confused expression on her smooth, velvety face.

  “I—I was sent here to please you, my lord,” Tullia stammered.

  He easily sifted through the contents of her mind. He saw that the scribe, Kapaneus, was behind this plot. Why? Finding no reason, Jake abruptly withdrew. Doing so would cause her an awful headache, he knew. Almost regretfully he watched Tullia’s face drain of color. Raising her long, graceful hand to her flawless brow, she swayed in the aftermath of his mind probe.

  Before he could order her out of his apartment, the inner door swung open. Delia limped in, dressed in a soft yellow tunic. Sleepy-looking, Jake realized she must have just awakened.

  Delia halted abruptly, her eyes flying wide with surprise.

  “Leave us,” Jake ordered Tullia. “I want nothing you offer.” The young woman gave him a doe-eyed look, but then her gaze cut to where Delia stood just inside the door, staring at them.

  “Ah, my lord, I see,” Tullia murmured, try
ing to speak through the pain in her head. “This gift is not meant for you, after all.” She bowed to both of them, turned and quickly left.

  Delia waited until Jake closed the door. “What was that all about?”

  “Not what you think,” he growled unhappily. He was still naked, and now, beneath Delia’s approving gaze, felt himself responding. There was nothing he could do about it. Grabbing a nearby black wool tunic, Jake quickly threw it over his head, jammed his arms through the openings and tugged it down over his awakened body. When he looked up, he saw a smile on Delia’s face. Feeling heat sweep up his neck into his face, he couldn’t believe he was blushing. Him, of all people! And in front of Delia, who had seen him naked plenty of times in the past.

  “I hope you enjoyed the joke,” he growled, swirling his cloak about his shoulders and pinning it in place.

  “Hey, you look good naked,” she murmured, limping to the couch and sitting down. “And obviously, that young woman thought so, too. Who was she, Jake?”

  Frustrated by her teasing, he sat down next to her and pulled on his leather boots. “Kapaneus, that scribe we saw last night at the party, sent her here. Her name is Tullia. She’s a prostitute.”

  “I didn’t know you were paying for sex, Jake. That isn’t at all like you.”

  Seeing the laughter in her gold eyes, Jake swore softly. “I did not pay for anything. Listen to me, will you? I read her mind and found that Kapaneus had paid her to undress me and make love to me. Why, I don’t know. All I could get out of her was that she was supposed to look for any jewelry I might be wearing.” He put on his second boot and then ran his fingers through his drying hair.

  “Jewelry?” Delia glanced around. “Was Kapaneus paying her to come here to steal from you? Does this scribe think you’re rich?”

  “That seems a stupid assumption for him to make,” Jake muttered. He took a deep breath, starting to relax. “You don’t really think I would do anything with Tullia, do you?”

  Shrugging, Delia said lightly, “Hey, we’re not a couple anymore, Jake. What you do isn’t my business any longer.” That was a lie, but she couldn’t admit it.

  Giving her a grim look, Jake stood up. He reached for his belt and scabbard and settled them around his waist. “I have never had to pay any woman to go to bed with me and you know it.”

  Laughing, Delia enjoyed Jake’s discomfort. The belt cinching his tunic made his broad, deep chest seem even more pronounced. A beautiful male chest that held a massive heart she used to listen to after making love with him, a drum that had lulled her to sleep.

  Pulling herself out of the past, she said teasingly, “I’m sure this gift hurt your male feelings.”

  “It was a shock,” Jake admitted. He picked up his sword from atop the dresser and slid it into the scabbard. “She just waltzed in here without knocking.”

  “What a trauma!”

  “Stop laughing, Del….”

  Covering her grin with her hand, Delia tried to comply, but it was impossible. “I’m sure under any other circumstances you’d have jumped her, Jake.”

  “Give me a break!”

  “She’s very beautiful.”

  “So what?”

  “You like good-looking women.”

  He gave her a flat, harried glance. “I like some good-looking women. Not all of them. You are the one I like.”

  Chapter 11

  “W hat did you find out about the survivor of that attack last night?” Delia asked as Jake entered her apartment later. She was still exhausted, and needed more sleep. But first she wanted to know if the enemy had revealed that Queen Cleopatra had hired assassins to attack Servilia’s home during the party.

  Shutting the door, Jake gave Delia a grim look. She’d bathed while he was gone and slipped into a soft green cotton tunic that brushed her feet. Thinking she looked pale due to the wound she’d endured, he tried to focus on responding to her questions. “He didn’t talk, Del. Didn’t speak a word. Needless to say, Servilia and the entire household are upset by the attack last night. Everyone is edgy and tense.”

  Watching as he took off his heavy woolen cloak and dropped it on the couch, Delia asked, “Did the prisoner confess to anything?”

  “No. And these people aren’t reticent about cutting up a person to get what they want. He didn’t reveal anything, which has really infuriated Julius Caesar. A slave overheard the emperor talking to one of his guards, and he wasn’t happy.”

  Watching Jake unbuckle his sword belt and set it on top of his cloak, Delia studied his drawn features. She had no idea what time it was; perhaps around noon. The attack last night had left them both feeling an adrenaline letdown that wasn’t at all unexpected. She patted the couch. “Come, sit down for a moment. Are you thirsty?” She pointed to a cup and pitcher on the table nearby.

  Shaking his head, Jake ran his fingers through his hair as he settled beside her. There was no way he wanted Delia to find out about the gory torture their attacker had experienced before dying. Jake could see the translucent quality to her flesh, the shadows beneath her eyes. As he sat back, he gripped Delia’s hand momentarily and gave it a gentle squeeze. He didn’t want to release it, but knew he had to. “No, not thirsty. Helluva day so far.”

  “That’s very true,” she whispered, searching his blue eyes, which were murky with worry. Her hand tingled where he’d gripped it for a moment. Secretly, she loved his touch. It made her feel so much better.

  “You’re right about things being in chaos,” Delia said. “I’m afraid to ask what else can happen in a twenty-four-hour period around here. Who ever said Rome was a dull place to live?” She smiled wryly.

  His mouth flexed. “It’s been hectic, that’s for sure.” Jake leaned back on the curved end of the couch and simply observed Delia’s softness. There was no question she was the ultimate woman warrior—fearless, smart and quick-thinking. As he gazed at her full lips, noting the way they curved upward at the corners, he found himself wanting to simply hold her. He needed Delia now as never before. What had happened to that attacker could happen to them if they were ever discovered.

  Jake couldn’t bear the possibility of them losing their ESC armbands or being separated from one another on this mission. Of Delia being tortured…

  “Are you all right, Jake? You look…upset.”

  He gave her a teasing glance and deliberately lied. “I’m still in shock over Tullia’s arrival. Who really sent her?”

  Shaking her head, Delia looked mystified. “And why did they send her?”

  “I don’t know, but I intend to do a little questioning of the household slaves later today, when things settle down around here.” He gave Delia an oblique look. “Despite Tullia showing up, you still love me just the same, right?”

  Delia rolled her eyes. “I’ll plead the Fifth on that one.”

  “But we aren’t in the twenty-first century U.S.A. The Fifth Amendment didn’t exist in this era.” Jake grinned at her.

  Holding up her hand, Delia insisted, “I’ll still take the Fifth.”

  Okay, he could handle that. “At least you didn’t say no,” he stated.

  “Don’t read anything into that,” Delia warned. When she saw his wonderful mouth lift, she couldn’t help but laugh. “You have a nice way of making things light when the situation is heavy, Jake.” Reaching out, she grazed his hand, which was resting on his large, strong thigh. “Thank you.”

  “Anytime,” he answered, his voice rough with emotion. Jake would give anything for Delia to continue running her fingers over his body. Her touch ignited an instant fire, an ache in his lower body. “How is your leg doing?”

  Delia shrugged. “It’s aching a little, but that’s to be expected. I’m taking antibiotics faithfully, so don’t worry. Plus I got a good night’s sleep. But I’m still tired, and I want to nap off and on today, to lessen the shock of the incident.”

  “No more bleeding?” he asked, peering down at where her tunic covered her thighs.

  She s
hook her head. “No, it’s fine. I checked the dressing and it’s clean.”

  “We should change the bandage daily, add more antibiotic to the area, to keep it that way.”

  Delia nodded. “Not a bad idea.” Then she frowned. “Jake, do you think Caesar suspects Cleopatra of planning that attack last night?”

  “No. I was reading his mind yesterday after I left you. He’s baffled. He still loves Servilia, although much less than he does the Egyptian queen. He thinks a small group of senators who don’t want him as dictator and emperor of Rome might be behind that attack.”

  “Politics.”

  “When isn’t it?”

  “Historically, it was Brutus along with a group of other senators who stabbed him to death on March 15. And Marcus Brutus was here at the banquet.”

  “But Caesar does not suspect his old friend.”

  “Isn’t that amazing, Jake? A few years ago, Brutus left Caesar and teamed up with Senator Pompey to fight Caesar in Greece, hoping to get the republic back. He was accused by Caesar’s other generals of being a traitor.”

  “Yes,” Jake murmured, “that’s all historically true. And when Caesar gathered his legions, sailed to Greece and met with Pompey in battle at Pharsalus, it was Julius who won.”

  “I don’t know how he could take Brutus back as a friend after he’d betrayed him,” Delia said, shaking her head. Giving Jake a searching look, she said, “Do you have any idea how he could do that? Forgive a lifelong friend for turning traitor, joining the enemy and going to war against him?”

  “I watched Brutus last night,” Jake told her, “and there is an obvious connection between them. The general loves Julius, and at the same time I felt his concern that Rome needed a republic, not an emperor. I could feel Brutus being torn by these two things.”

  “Could it be that Julius forgave Brutus because of his own long liaison with Servilia? Could that be why he forgave the general for deserting him and fighting a war against him over in Greece? Brutus is, after all, her son.”