Then his face felt like it exploded. The pain was indescribable. Sharp pops surrounded by dull aches so intense he wanted to cut his own head off to stop it. He felt his face change shape. His nose flattened, upper and lower jaws expanded; he felt himself snarl and his upper lip split.
Some miniscule remnant of self-preservation made him fight back. Somehow Gabriel willed his face to change back, though it felt like ramming his head against the wall again and again. He bowed his back, forcing his airways to open so he could breathe. Once he could get air into his lungs some of the pain eased. Like working out a Charlie horse, his body let go of the tension slowly, by sharp degrees and left him boneless, weak, and gasping for breath.
He was still leaning on Amelia. Even that contact hurt his bruised flesh but he didn’t have the strength to stay upright on his own. In his mind, the panther stretched and yawned, arrogant and self-assured. Gabriel could already tell it’d be a pain in the ass. “It worked.” Holy shit, it worked! And he was still alive!
Sort of…
Someone burst in the door, pulled him and Amelia apart. Without her support, Gabriel dropped to the floor again, groaning at the impact. He couldn’t see a damn thing. His eyes were swollen shut and his nose whistled when he breathed.
“What the fuck is going on?” Marek demanded. Soren must have sent him.
“Get your hands off me,” Amelia yelled. Gabriel could hear her struggling.
He pried an eye open to see what was going on. Just in time to see Marek’s paddle-sized hand slap Amelia across the cheek. Her glasses went flying and Marek closed his hand on her throat and lifted her up almost off the floor.
“Let her go!” Gabriel shouted, pain splitting in his upper jaw and nose. The panther raised its head, showing a modicum of interest in what it saw as sport. It was freaky. Especially because it kicked the healing into gear. He could open his eyes again.
Amelia was struggling in Marek’s grip, clawing at the massive hand at her throat. Her face was going red. “Marek! You son of a whore, I’ll kill you for this!”
Something glittered in Amelia’s hand a split second before she jabbed it into Marek’s throat. The bulldog of a man dropped her and stumbled backwards, yanking the syringe out of his jugular. It dropped out of his hand as his knees gave out and he crumbled to the floor like an overstuffed puppet.
Amelia coughed and wheezed, feeling along the floor for her glasses. Relief washed over Gabriel when she found them and put them on, leaning back to catch her breath. “I’m discovering I hate being choked,” she wheezed.
Soren appeared in the doorway. Impassive as ever, he looked over Gabriel and Amelia, glanced at Marek’s still form and walked away. The bastard left Marek’s body there like he couldn’t be bothered to care.
“Will he be back?” Amelia asked, wincing. She didn’t have her supplies now. Her neck was already bruising and swollen and her throat was probably sore as hell and would be for a while.
“No,” Gabriel said, hating to hell this being completely helpless shit. He couldn’t gather enough energy to try to loosen the ropes binding him. “Check Marek for weapons.”
*
Putting near death experience at the top of the Sucks Major Stinking Ass list. Amelia knee walked to the dead weight bastard with the IQ of a rabid carrot. He’d fallen face-first and she had to turn him over to get to his pockets. He weighed a ton at least and after holding up Gabriel and getting the fear choked out of her it took her a while to get it done.
Marek was as ugly dead as he’d been alive. Her face still throbbed where he’d hit her and it pissed her off. Amelia drew back and slapped the dead weight across his disgusting face as hard as she could. Son of a bitch almost broke her glasses.
“He’s dead, angel,” Gabriel said. He had a tender smile on his face, like he was proud of her and amused at the same time.
“Yeah, well I’m still pissed. So sue me.” She rooted through his pockets but found nothing of use. Just a pack of matches and some strange looking coins. “How are you doing?” she asked Gabriel. For a moment there while he’d been changing she feared he’d be dead for sure. It was a miracle he lived through it.
“Not bad, considering I feel like I want to die.”
Amelia turned to stare at him. “Don’t ever say that, not even as a joke.”
He nodded solemnly. “Fair enough. You got anything?”
“No,” she blew out a frustrated sigh and came back to Gabriel. “So this Soren guy. Sends a man to check on the prisoners, lets him die, and then leaves him where he fell.”
“Yep.”
“Hmm.”
“Just the type of guy he is.”
And she’d bet Rome was full of people just like him. She couldn’t wait to meet them all.
So much for her quiet, normal life. Amelia had been so sure once the mess with Hailey was taken care of she’d get to enjoy her life worry free. Well, not completely worry free. Her sister was a shape shifter after all and her new brother in law could read minds. She shuddered to think what their children would be like.
Just went to show all good plans eventually hit a great big brick wall.
Amelia eyed the dead Marek. He’d be getting really gross soon. Almost like old times. Another dead body in front of her. Cause of death: Amelia Marguerite Chase. And here she was without her menthol rub. She couldn’t bring herself to regret her actions this time. She only wished she’d gotten a few good hits in before he’d hit the ground without a pulse.
“All right. Seeing as how I’m about to take a grand tour of Rome, you might want to tell me a little more about it.”
Gabriel swore. “I’m so sorry, Amelia.”
She waved that aside. Sorry wouldn’t help her. If she was going to survive in a place so far out of her area of expertise she’d need all the help she could get. Just another assignment. She’d get through it. She’d learn and adapt, and at some point she’d find a way out like she always did and maybe then the universe would finally get off her back and let her live out the rest of her life in relative piece.
Gabriel looked so pathetic lying there all tied up she took pity on him and righted him again. With his help she maneuvered him so he could lean against the seats since he was still weak from his partial shift. “We don’t have time to play Shelter Amelia anymore. I need to know what you know. Call me paranoid, but I don’t think they’ll be keeping us together once we land. I’d rather not go in completely ignorant.”
He hung his head in defeat, but nodded. “You’re right. Okay.”
For the next five hours Gabriel told her everything he knew about the grand city of Rome. He described the layout of the city with the Coliseum at its heart. The arena was the center of everything. It was livelihood for some, entertainment for others, and hell on earth for the rest. He told her about the grand gardens, flashes of bright green in an otherwise sandy landscape. Some were so big people could get lost in them. Others were little more than a gazebo of trees, with marble benches and a fountain.
Gabriel was a well of knowledge about Rome. He knew where the most beautiful statues were, where the best musicians played, and the best wine was poured. And he knew which parts of the city she should avoid at all cost. Places where disease was so thick in the air it could be smelled from half a mile away. Places where people entered and never returned, where criminals and cutthroats reigned supreme.
The most distressing part of the lesson came when Gabriel told her that while the Patricians weren’t big enough classicist to use public restrooms, they did have public baths. Which she might have to use.
“You mean … bathe … naked … in front of other people…”
Gabriel nodded. “The baths are segregated for men and women but attendants are of both genders.” A quick smile flashed across his face. “I haven’t spent enough time in the women’s baths to know all the current trends but as I recall the male attendants there were eunuchs. The poor bastards.”
“Should have read the fine print.”
“Thoroughly and with a magnifying glass,” he agreed.
“Tell me about the arena.”
The look on his face made her wish she hadn’t asked. The deadened tone in which he described it made her as sick as the things he talked about. Some gladiators were more like employees. They had their own living quarters and showed up daily to train and fight. Others were not so lucky. Those with cheaper masters were kept in underground cells like prisoners. They had a bunk, a bathroom corner and a jug of water. The door was locked all the time, except when they were training or entertaining the crowds.
The only time a gladiator had company was when he was allowed to the public baths or when he was rewarded for good service. In the baths, or anywhere in the city, they were treated like superstars. Women loved them, attendants fawned over them, gave them whatever they wanted. All for the price of spilling some blood as magnificently as possible.
As reward, they sometimes got women. Amelia retched a little when Gabriel explained what that meant: slaves and whores brought to their cells to repay a service with another.
“D-did you ever…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. Wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer.
“Did I ever have women brought to me? I’d be lying if I said no.” Gabriel sounded even less inclined to talk about it than she was to hear about it. But he was talking. And he was honest, though it was difficult. Amelia was grateful for that. “But I told you the truth before. I never took an unwilling woman to my bed.”
Amelia nodded. Got the picture. Loud and clear. A gladiator as popular as he must have been, women probably signed up on a waitlist for the privilege of having him sleep with them.
“Besides, that didn’t last long. When Honoria got my contract she came up with a new way to reward me.”
“I’m sure.” About ready to stop talking about this now. Amelia flexed her fingers and hands. They were starting to cramp, tightly curled as they were. She shouldn’t have asked. Hadn’t she learned by now not to ask questions she didn’t want answers to?
Gabriel’s gaze warmed and he smiled a little sadly. “You don’t need to look like that,” he said. “I got out of it.”
“Out of what, exactly? And how?”
His smile turned savage and Amelia’s stomach did a nasty dive. Whatever he was about to say, she knew she’d regret hearing it for the rest of her life. “Honoria likes to fuck her gladiators after battle,” he said, “but she hates to be sullied by blood.”
Chapter 18
September 30th, 3032, Rome
They landed as the larger of the two suns reached its highest point. When the shuttle opened, the hot desert air felt like stepping into an oven. Gabriel was instantly parched. He was used to this heat, but one look at Amelia told him she wasn’t doing so well with it.
“Home sweet home, huh?”
Gabriel didn’t have to do more than look at Lars to wipe that shit eating grin off his face. The guy’s nose was still crooked, his face looked like a punching bag at the end of a weeklong practice, and he was favoring his left side.
In contrast, Gabriel didn’t have a mark on him. After the beating he’d taken and the “partial shift” as Amelia called it, his only issue was being a little unsteady on his feet.
And that pissed Lars off royally. It was humiliating to come out of a fight looking worse than your opponent. Lars had been knocked out cold in the first three minutes and slept through everything. Bastard should be happy he was still alive. Gabriel had had his neck in his hands, one decision away from snapping it like a twig. At the very last second he’d chosen not to kill Lars in Amelia’s lab.
Ah well, live and learn.
When he didn’t get the rise he’d been aiming for, Lars screwed up his face and left in a huff. Soren had assigned him to clear out Marek’s body. Funny how their roles had switched.
Gabriel put both of them out of his mind and turned his attention to the sight before them.
Home sweet home. Hats were too trite for this place; this was where you laid your life. From the shuttleport at the top of Mt. Olympus they could see all of Rome spread out before them. The Coliseum all but glittered in the noonday suns, the streets were filled with people and colorful streamers, and banners were hung everywhere.
That arrogant bitch must have announced Gabriel’s return to the arena. A brilliant move on her part. If all of Rome knew he was back, all of Rome would be watching him and inadvertently making sure his ass stayed put. It was better than assigning an armed escort to shadow his every move.
Next to him, Amelia was watching the city like a warrior about to go into battle. She stood straight and steady but he could scent her anxiety. Amelia was scared, and with good reason. “Just remember everything I told you,” he said.
“I have an excellent memory.”
Their transportation arrived in the form of a group of horses decked out in highest finery known to Rome. Golden beads were braided through their manes, irritating the horses into tossing their heads to get them out. The saddles were polished to a shine and adorned with bright red trimmings and streamers. The reins had fucking bells on them and Gabriel wouldn’t be surprised if their shoes were golden. Why anyone would do this to such a naturally elegant, majestic animal was beyond him.
“Horseback riding, on the other hand,” Amelia said, “could be a little problematic.” Her dignified gulp was only audible to Gabriel’s overly sensitive ears.
“Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”
“You ride with me,” Soren told Amelia. The son of a bitch had called for his own horse, Demon. A subtle name for a subtle mount. The steed was already stomping up a dust storm, snorting and chewing his bit. He’s been known to take digits. “You’re in the chariot, Champion.”
The guy who dragged him to the chariot had to be new. Gabriel had never seen him before. Perfect. His hands were freed of the ropes but New Guy tied one of them right back up to the chariot. It was for show, nothing more. That rope wouldn’t hold him if he decided he was done playing nice, but it wasn’t meant to. It was a visual reminder of the leash around his neck. Amelia was their insurance policy and all of them knew it.
New Guy tied off the rope and yanked on it to test the knot. He noticed Gabriel examining his free hand and explained, “So you can wave. Try it.”
Gabriel punched him in the nose. “Yeah, that’ll do.” His mouth quirked up at one corner. He’d take his satisfactions where he could get them.
“Mount up!” Soren ordered.
Gabriel’s jaw muscles jumped when Soren mounted his horse and dragged Amelia up to sit across his lap. She clutched the saddle’s edge so tight her knuckles stood out pale white. Demon was already picking up on her tension and he wasn’t exactly docile with an empty saddle on his back, let alone a rider. Two riders? Gabriel hoped for Soren’s sake he wouldn’t let Amelia get hurt.
At least they took it slow going down the hill. At the foot of the mountain, the welcome party was already in full swing. It was like they were greeting a damn hero. Flower petals carpeted the city streets, with more raining down as they passed. There were so many people soldiers had to hold them back so the entourage could pass. Women shouted his name, tossed him handkerchiefs and other things. Men threw coins at his feet and chanted his “nickname.”
Nothing said We love you better than chanting penis over and over again. God, he hated Honoria so much.
Gabriel kept his gaze forward and his hands still until New Guy shoved into him from the side.
“Wave,” he growled.
Gabriel’s temper flared. His free hand tightened on the reins, translating the tension to the two horses pulling his chariot. They whinnied and tossed their heads, jerking suddenly to the left and spooking New Guy’s mount. Caught off guard, the soldier didn’t have time to catch himself before he was thrown off, landing with a heavy thud on his back. Riderless, the horse ran for it. It took three of Soren’s men to catch and calm the beast.
Amelia shot Gab
riel a worried glance, quick as lightning. All he could do was hope his pair stayed put, otherwise he’d be dragged across Roman dirt on his stomach.
*
“Have you ever seen a more beautiful sight?” Soren said at her ear. His nearness made Amelia want to shudder. The only thing keeping her from doing it was that she was too tense, holding on to the saddle with everything she had. There wasn’t a loose muscle in her left to shudder.
She made herself look around. The path they were on wasn’t the stomped sand it appeared to be. Nothing natural was that smooth. It had to be synthetically bonded somehow, making it as tough as concrete while still golden like sand. The buildings around her looked ancient in design but there wasn’t a crack in the wall anywhere. The roofs were all slanted the same way, which meant they utilized solar energy. And the people were dressed simply enough but adorned with glittering faceted stones no antiquated tool could have cut.
It was a lie. All of it, a pretty veneer hiding a simple fact of life: People were too used to their modern creature comforts to give them up for the sake of pretense. “As a matter of fact, I have.” Torrey, for all that it drove her crazy with its lack of amenities, was what Rome only pretended to be. Genuine. Amelia would choose that over this farce any day.
Soren chuckled. “Your defiance intrigues me.”
She leaned more forward to get as far from him as possible. “Don’t get too excited. I’m about as far out of your league as a woman can get.” She was still human. This guy? She had her doubts.
His gloved hand brushed her hair and she almost jumped off the damn horse to get away from him. The horse must have sensed it because he stopped and tossed his head back, almost hitting her.
Soren pulled on the reins mercilessly and dug his knees into the mount’s sides. “Settle down, Demon.”
Blood Debts (The Blood Book 3) Page 16
