by Marilyn Todd
'So?' Orbilio had no time for the Persian's oily bragging.
'So.' Shamshi tapped the side of his hooked nose with a long, skinny finger. 'I think I might know where she is.'
Sandalwood. She could smell it. No, wait. She could taste it. On her lips, on her tongue, on every part of her, inside and out.
This is it, then. I'm dying.
I know this, because I feel I'm returning to consciousness, but I still can't breathe. And what does it feel like? Dear Diana, it feels wonderful! No longer afraid of the dark, of dying, of being alone, Claudia succumbed to the kiss of the Ferryman.
Except Charon didn't kiss his passengers.
She opened her eyes and found another pair staring straight into hers. Dark eyes. Misted with something that couldn't possibly be tears. I don't kiss killers. But other men kill in the course of their duties. Just that Jason's were the wrong lips. The right lips, as she'd known all along, would taste ever so faintly of sandal—
'Wood.'
'The wooden horse. Yes.' Orbilio had turned into a frog. He
was croaking. 'Odysseus broke the siege of Troy by smuggling men inside a horse fashioned from wood.'
'How . . .' long I have waited for this.
'How did we find you?' The lips drew slowly away from hers and she felt cheated. 'That was Shamshi. He noticed the box in the olive-oil cellar and put two and two together.' Orbilio knuckled something away from the corner of each eye. 'So I fancy you have Shamshi to thank for saving your life.'
Her? Fancy Shamshi? 'You,' she corrected.
Strong arms hoisted her out of the coffin. 'Don't try to talk, you're still very weak.'
No, you don't understand. I'm talking about you, you -'Dope.'
Incredibly, he began to laugh. 'You're not still on about that, are you?'
What? She'd been paddling in the shallows of the River Styx, and he thinks all she was worried about was that business on the Field of Mars? But he was right. She was too weak to argue, and his arms around her felt good, and the sunshine was warm on her hair.
'You didn't honestly think you were in trouble?' He chuckled. His boots echoed on the stone cellar floor.
'Course not.' Orbilio, I will kill you for this.
'The thing is, until then, I'd had no angle with which to get at Hylas the Greek. You thoughtfully provided me with the ticket to nail the cheating bastard.'
Were her ears still in a coma? 'Hylas?'
'Contrary to popular opinion, his winners owe less to training or breeding and more to the stimulants he slips his horses.' He navigated a careful path through the terracotta forest, the tangy smell of olives warm and familiar. 'Thanks to the mix you used to sedate White Star, your trusty Security Policeman can now go undercover, worming his way into Hylas's organization and get him bang to rights, as my boss likes to say.'
Then - this made less and less sense. 'Why did you get Leo to invite me to Cressia?'
Her human carriage faltered imperceptibly. Must be the stairs, she thought. Difficult to manoeuvre.
'Well?'
Orbilio blinked. Truth or dare? He pretended that negotiating the door to the cellar was more difficult than it actually was. Should he tell? Dare he tell? The violence of the moment when he knew for sure that his life had restored hers would remain with him for ever. Then, when she clasped her hands round his neck, so close that he inhaled her fear as well as her relief, he feared he would explode.
For the right woman, I would lay down my life.
Truth or dare.
'Don't you know?' A pain like none he had ever known shot through him.
How could she not realize? That the prospect of spending weeks on end tying up his cousin's felonious affairs on the paradise island of Cressia with her four hundred miles away was too bleak to contemplate. There had, whether she admitted it or not, always been this raw energy between them. Who knows how it might have been harnessed if they spent the summer together under the shimmering sky as terns dived among violet-blue coral and a thousand herbs on the hillside wafted out their enticing scents?
Truth or dare?
He looked down at her in his arms as he carried her along the marble portico. At the hair plastered flat to her face. At the gown so wet it looked like paint on her body.
Truth or dare.
He lowered her gently on to the damask counterpane in her bedroom. Felt a rush of tenderness that threatened to choke him.
'The honest answer -' He cleared his throat, flexed his shoulders, spiked his fringe out of his face with his fingers. 'The honest answer, Mistress Seferius, is that I knew you'd want to check out Leo's revolutionary method of training the vines.'
Deftly, he ducked the green, narrow-necked vase that whizzed past his ear, but was too slow for the jug and the bolster.
And Claudia thought, I could get used to paradise.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marilyn Todd was born in Harrow, England, but now lives with her husband on a French hilltop, surrounded by chateaux, woodlands and vines. As well as sixteen historical thrillers, Marilyn also writes short stories, which are mostly crime-based. When she isn't killing people, Marilyn enjoys cooking. Which is pretty much the same thing.
www.marilyntodd.com
I, Claudia
How far would you go to protect your secret? Would you lie? Would you steal? Would you kill..?
Having connived her way into marriage with a wealthy wine merchant, Claudia quickly grows bored, so when her secret gambling debts spiral, she hits on a resourceful way to pay off the moneylenders. Offering “personal services” to high-ranking Romans. That is, until her clients start turning up dead.
When the charismatic investigator, Marcus Cornelius Orbilio, starts digging too deep for comfort, Claudia is forced to track down the killer herself. Before the authorities or her husband find out what she’s up to.
Virgin Territory
This can’t be right. When you marry a man for his money, you expect him to leave you a pile of shiny gold pieces when he dies. Not some hillside in the middle of nowhere, covered with vines. How’s a young widow supposed to pay off her gambling debts now? So when Eugenius asks Claudia to chaperone his granddaughter home to Sicily she jumps at the chance to make money. It should be easy. Sabina, she is told, has recently completed thirty years’ service as a Vestal Virgin. Or has she?
Claudia quickly suspects she’s escorting an impostor. Then a woman’s brutalized body is discovered. And the lies just get thicker and thicker...
Man Eater
It’s not every day a man’s blood drains out over you, and you watch the light die in his eyes. Memories like that stay with you for ever. Just like being framed for his murder.
On the eve of the Roman festivities, the last thing Claudia wanted was to be heading out of the city. But even hedonistic young widows must put business before pleasure when their vineyards are threatened with arson. Taking a shortcut through the Umbrian countryside, her cart is forced off the road, and her beloved cat goes missing in the skirmish. Refusing to leave without her, Claudia accepts the hospitality of Sergius Pictor and the menagerie of wild animals he is training for the Games.
That night, a stranger knocks at her bedroom door, with a knife sticking out of his belly. And before the first ray of dawn, Claudia is the prime suspect for murder.
Wolf Whistle
A killer is stalking the backstreets of Rome. Newborn babies are being snatched at night. A small boy is abandoned.
With insurrection bubbling, the authorities don't have the resources (or the inclination) to follow up. But it was Claudia who found Jovi crying in the streets, close to one of the ripper’s victims. Claudia, who feels responsible for this little boy. Claudia, who followed the tattoo that linked the victims, marking them as the “children of Arbil.”
And it is Claudia who discovers that Arbil the Babylonian is not a loving father. Not at all.
Jail Bait
A deadly contagion has sent most of Rome’s wealthy citizens fleeing
to the country, but for Claudia, the plague is the least of her worries.
To pay off her loans, she borrowed 3,000 sesterces from Sabbio Tullus. Borrowed as in broke into his depository to get it, but surely that was no reason to set the authorities on her. To avoid arrest, she seeks refuge in the beautiful lakeside resort of Atlantis, where she meets the charismatic Cal. A little flirting in tranquil surroundings seems an ideal way to pass the time—except, within hours, Cal is dead. And he’s not the only one.
Suddenly, Atlantis proves ten times more dangerous than the disease-ridden streets Claudia left behind.
Black Salamander
‘If we're going to make a new order for Rome, sacrifices have to be made. We have set the assassination date for the Ides of July.'
What better opportunity for an ambitious young widow than an invitation to join a prestigious delegation to Gaul? First the fanfare as the procession leaves Rome, then a breathtaking journey through lush Alpine meadows. And let’s not forget the promise of riches for delivering a certain pouch, sealed with the sign of the black salamander.
When a rockfall strands the group on the Helvetian border, leaving five people dead, Claudia soon realizes this was no accident. With no intention of waiting to be picked off one by one until the rescue party arrives, she sets out to escape.
But there are those who will go to any lengths to stop her. Plunging her into a deadly game of high treason, in a land where warriors still hunt human heads and wicker-man sacrifices are far from rare. Too late she discovers that the worst part about betrayal is that it doesn't come from your enemies...
Dream Boat
‘Kidnapped? What do you mean the silly cow’s been kidnapped?’
Claudia didn’t believe for one second that her stepdaughter had been abducted, and she was right. But when Flavia’s stupid prank costs a young man his life, this was anything but funny. Frustrated and furious, Claudia turns to the one man who can help—only to find Marcus is under house arrest after a body is found walled up in his house.
She eventually tracks Flavia to an Egyptian cult in the hills, whose leader bends the members’ minds to his own sinister will. But worshipping the Barque of Ra is one thing. When one of the cult members starts believing he is the incarnation of Seth, brother of Osiris, God of Chaos, the Dark Destroyer himself, the game turns very dangerous indeed.
For the Upcoming Second Act
The corpse in the shallow grave couldn’t find rest. ‘You’ll never get away with my murder,’ she cried. ‘They’ll find you in the end. One way or another, they will find you. And then you’ll have to pay.’
But her killer has no intentions of being caught. Joining a troupe of travelling actors (aren’t all killers actors at heart?), there’s no better place to hide out. Until the group is invited to spend Saturnalia with Claudia Seferius...
