Passions of New Pompeii (14 page)

In a world filled with brutality and death,
rape should not have impacted him. Even so, Theos found himself
shaken and tense. He clasped his hands behind his back and stared
past Max, unsure how to respond to his friend. “I apologize. I
spoke out of turn.”

Stepping into Theos’ line of sight, Max
managed a wan smile. “Apology accepted. We are all prisoners of
this wretched world. Still, I do not see how one man can make any
meaningful change.”

“How about two men working with two women,
one of whom happens to be the emperor’s daughter?”

Emotion shadowed Max’s gaze. His features
remained impassive, but his eyes softened and warmed. “You are
working with Princess Naloni?” In an instant the warmth vanished
and bitterness tainted his words. How odd.

“You know her?”

“That’s a complicated question. As far as
she’s concerned, we have never met.” He went on before Theos could
ask him to clarify. “She doesn’t have as much influence over her
father as she likes to think she does.”

“Are you sure you are the best person to
determine her effectiveness? It is obvious you have some sort of
history with the princess.”

“I never met Princess Naloni.” Again his tone
hinted at hidden meaning. “I have no opinion of her whatsoever. If
she can help you, wonderful. I just wouldn’t expect miracles from a
female.”

Theos inclined his head, accepting the
suggestion without agreeing with it. He took a step toward the
archway then paused. “I have to get a message to
domina
. Do
you have any suggestions?”

“Do not approach her directly. Send it though
her guard. His name is Quade. He is never far from her side, or her
bed.”

“Sound advice, as usual.”

Max chuckled when Theos still didn’t leave.
“Was there something else?”

“A young girl stopped me outside the market.
She was very upset about the recent disappearance of her sister and
several other girls. She said I had fought her brother, but I’m not
sure who her brother is.”

“What was her name?”

“Lavinia. She was perhaps ten or eleven.
Yellow hair and green eyes.”

Max indulged in a derisive snort. “I can
understand not remembering all of your victims’ names, but not
remembering your last?”

“Dario is her brother?”

“Yes. If you spoke with Lavinia, then Arllo
must be missing.”

Theos fidgeted uncomfortably. “I should have
realized.”

“You were distracted by your ladylove no
doubt.”

“That is no excuse.”

Max shrugged. “Will you fight harder now that
you know the identity of one of the victims?”

“No. This is bigger than any of us.” Theos
looked at Max for a long moment before he asked, “If we need your
assistance, can we count on your help?”

“I might be a skeptic, but I’ll always have
your back.” Max flashed an uncharacteristic smile then added, “I
hope you prove me wrong.”

Elaina impatiently paced the blue salon,
waiting for Princess Naloni. Plush carpets cushioned her steps and
the subtle tone-on-tone wall coverings should have soothed her, but
Elaina’s mood was simply too agitated for her to appreciate the
ostentatious glory of Olla Palace.

Dressed in a figure-hugging dress of emerald
green and gravity-defying heels, Naloni strolled in a few minutes
later. Elaina lashed out at the princess with more intensity than
she’d intended. “Why wouldn’t you receive me last night? I left
Theos so I could bring you this information.”

Naloni’s hazel eyes widened and her sleek
black hair swished as she shook her head. “Oh Elaina, you aren’t
falling for this gladiator. Are you? I thought you were smarter
than that.”

Her chin came up and defiance smoldered in
her belly. Naloni was echoing the warning her own brain had been
shouting all morning, which made the concept all the more
irritating. “I thought you were happy that I was ‘back in the
game’.”

“I encouraged you to enjoy the fantasy, but
that is all these men can ever be. Surely you understand that.
There is no place in our world for one of them.”

Understanding spread through Elaina, guided
by years of friendship. Naloni was far from perfect, but she had
never been an elitist. Only personal experience could lead a
tolerant person to abandon their compassion. Elaina stared at her
friend hard, seeing past her superficial concern. “Who was he,
Naloni? Which one of the gladiators broke your heart?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Naloni insisted, but
the pain in her gaze told a different story. “If anything, I broke
his heart.” She took a deep, shuddering breath and said, “But we’re
not talking about me.”

“We are now.” Elaina took her by the hand and
led her to the sofa. “I can’t believe you kept something like this
from me. I thought we were best friends.”

“It was a long time ago, before you married
Vito.” Naloni sighed, obviously loath to discuss the long-ago
events. “In fact, Vito was the only one who knew anything about
it.”

“The gladiator knew,” Elaina reminded.

“He wasn’t a gladiator. He was a
doctore
.” Her tone turned soft and memories clouded her wide
hazel eyes. Whoever he was, Naloni wasn’t over him. That much was
obvious from the conflict on her face.

A
doctore
? Elaina puzzled through the
clues. That narrowed down the field considerably. “You said ‘was’.
Is he still alive?”

“The details are not important.” And the
stubborn flash in Naloni’s eyes warned Elaina that the details
would not be arriving anytime soon. “We had an affair and Vito
found out. He was furious. That’s all you need to know. Despite his
anger, I convinced Vito I couldn’t live without my lover, that I
would intentionally ruin my reputation if he didn’t allow me to
take my lover away from the danger and humiliation of the gladiator
games.”

Suddenly the pieces slid into place and
awareness jolted through Elaina. “You’re talking about Max, aren’t
you? Theos said Max had been beyond the barrier.”

Naloni folded her hands in her lap, suddenly
fascinated with her fingernails. “It actually happened before the
city was built, but the effect was the same. I offered him Fedoros
with all its technological wonders and he chose a prison cell over
me.” Her lips trembled, but she stubbornly blinked her tears
away.

“He was overwhelmed. He chose to return to
the world he knew, the reality he understood.”

“I agree.” She paused, crossing her long legs
as she asked, “Why do you think Theos will be able to deal with the
transition any better than Max?”

“I don’t know that he will.” The words
slipped out easily enough, but then her throat tightened and her
mouth dried up, making it hard to speak. “We have barely begun to
consider what our future might look like.” She paused to lick her
lips. “We only know we want to be together.”

Naloni pivoted toward Elaina and grasped her
hand. “I know this is wildly romantic. You desperately want what
you’re feeling to be real. I’ve been there. I understand what
you’re feeling. But you have to be sensible. You’ve only known this
man for a few days. Don’t make any rash decisions.”

“The only decision I’ve made is to gather
information about what’s really going on inside New Pompeii. If I
happen to keep crossing paths with Theos in the process, that’s
fine by me.”

With a frustrated sigh, Naloni surrendered.
“I’ve said my peace. My conscience is clear. So tell me what you’ve
learned.”

Elaina quickly filled her in on all that
they’d uncovered the day before.

“I’ll see what I can find out about the
missing girls, and I’ll ask Father to put some pressure on the
magistrate.” She tapped her chin with her index finger, the long
nail gleaming in the salon’s soft light. “But I don’t want to use
him until we really need him. Cry wolf syndrome and all that.”

“I hate not being able to communicate. If I
go back inside, I won’t be able to find out what you learn, yet if
I wait out here, I don’t know what’s going on with Theos and
Laetif.”

“It’s a definite disadvantage.” She scooted
to the edge of her seat then said, “Give me another day to dig into
these names. I’ll track you down inside the city late tomorrow
afternoon.”

“Come on, Arllo. Give us a name and we’ll let
you go.” Mikko circled the girl, cursing her stubbornness.

“You have no intention of letting me go.”
Arllo’s voice was strong and steady though her head hung down, long
auburn hair concealing her face. “I’m only alive because I’m a
virgin and you have a buyer ready to defile me.”

“Right you are.” Prince Tarhee moved out of
the shadows, his jewel-encrusted doublet glistening. The garment
was more appropriate for the Distarian Renaissance than ancient
Rome, but no one dared to question any of his decisions. “We still
need to decide what becomes of you after you’ve been defiled. You
can return to your family, or you can be taken to a brothel on one
of the colony outposts. As young and beautiful as you are, I’m sure
you’ll be very popular.”

Her dark eyes glared through the strands of
her hair. “Do what you like. I will not damn another girl to this
fate!”

With a frustrated hiss, Mikko turned to
Tarhee and switched to Fedoros so the chit couldn’t understand. “If
there was more time before the festival, I could extract the
information in a number of ways, but…”

“Her wounds wouldn’t have time to heal. I
understand.”

“Quite frankly, I don’t understand the
obsession with virgins. They just lie there and shriek.”

Tarhee shrugged, his eyes intent on the girl.
“It’s not our place to question the fantasies, only to fulfill
every facet of them.” Arllo stood before him naked, arms chained
above her head. Her slim, young body was pale and smooth in the
wavering torchlight of the underground chamber. “Does she know any
of the other captives?”

“I believe so.”

“Then let her watch while we—motivate one of
them.”

“If we do that, I’ll have to replace
whichever one we use. I was hoping not to have to capture anyone
else before the festival. Everyone is especially suspicious and
Elaina’s visit could not have come at a worse time. She was
traipsing all over the city today ‘interviewing’ people. Thankfully
she can’t speak Latin and Pompeiians have grown distrustful of
outsiders.”

“All I’m hearing is excuses.” Tarhee turned
from the girl and focused his intense stare on Mikko. “Can you do
this or not? We need two more virgins before the festival. We’re
running out of time.”

“It’s harder than you think. The inhabitants
are on to us. The fathers and older brothers guard the virgins like
the city’s greatest treasure.”

Tarhee’s brow arched dramatically. “Have you
tried an outright bribe? Perhaps one of these fathers would be
willing to turn over his daughter for the right price. Especially
if he were assured she will be returned to him alive, just a little
worse for wear.”

They left Arllo hanging in the middle of the
storeroom turned cell and moved out into the corridor. “I’ll find
two more girls. The responsibility is mine. You needn’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried,” Tarhee assured him. “You
haven’t failed me yet.”

The prince’s nonchalance annoyed him. It was
easy to have confidence in others when every element of life was
delegated. “Well, it is becoming progressively more challenging to
accomplish everything you ask me to do. I’m certain I have a spy in
my household.”

That captured Tarhee’s attention. “Really?
What makes you think so?”

They climbed a steep flight of stairs and
emerged in the backroom of a deserted temple, one of many scattered
throughout the city. An unintentional consequence of blaming the
relocation on Venus and Vulcan was an ongoing crisis of faith. Most
of the people of New Pompeii either devoted themselves to Venus
with new vigor and obsessive focus or they lost faith in the gods
entirely. So while the Temple of Venus flourished, activity at the
other temples dwindled and the buildings were deserted.

“Over and over my plans are foiled, and I am
made to look the fool. I blamed it on Laetif and Felicia for a
while, but I’ve been careful to keep them both out of the
loop.”

“Felicia has her own way of discerning
things,” Tarhee reminded. “We both know her powers are
legitimate.”

“Legitimate, yes. This consistent,” Mikko
shook his head, “not even close. Someone I trust is selling me down
the river.”

“So set a trap for them. Dangle bait they
won’t be able to resist then sit back and see who bites.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Mikko couldn’t resist
a wicked smile. “In fact, your ultimatum to Arllo gave me an idea.”
Tarhee moved in close as Mikko began his explanation.

Theos blinked the sand out of his eyes and
fought for breath, anger and confusion twisting through him. One
moment he’d been sparring with Sextus, the next Max had flipped him
belly first onto the ground. Max’s knee dug into his spine, keeping
him pinned against the dirt.

“Listen carefully,” Max sneered. “You are
delirious. The wound in your chest has festered. Can you sell
that?”

“Yes, but—”

“I’ll explain later. Make this
convincing.”

Theos began to thrash as if in the grip of
fever. He muttered and moaned, ignoring the sand on his lips and
eyelashes. Max rolled him over and Sextus helped hold him down
while Max poked and prodded. Each time the
doctore’s
fingers
touched his wound, Theos growled and renewed his struggles.

“The cut has putrefied,” Max told Sextus.
“Did you not notice that it was red and swollen?”

“I was too busy avoiding his sword,” Sextus
defended.

“I’ll fetch the
medicus
,” someone
volunteered.