The first sentence echoed in his mind to the point where he wanted to scream like a madman to drown it out. Azurha was trying to kill me? Preposterous! She was his lover, his confidante. The woman he wanted to make his Empress. And yet he couldn’t ignore the wounded member of the Legion, nor the dagger that rested inches from her hand.
“We should kill her now before she tries it again,” the soldier continued and raised his sword again.
Galerius blocked his blow again. “You will do nothing without the emperor’s command.”
Every eye turned to him. Azurha’s life hinged on the next word that came out of his mouth. Betrayal ate away at his gut, stirring up the acid that threatened to seep into his heart. He picked up the fallen crown that lay at his feet and ran his hands over the embedded jewels. Just minutes ago, it had adorned her head. Now, it was covered with dust and splattered with blood. A deep ache replaced the bitterness as he wiped the red blotches away. “Why would she attack me?”
“I think this might explain a few things.” Pontus appeared from the crowd like a solemn messenger and brought him the dagger.
A crouching rabbit was engraved in the hilt.
Another wave of nausea assaulted him, and he closed his eyes to keep the vertigo from sending the contents of his stomach into his mouth and beyond. Azurha was the Rabbit. Impossible! his heart argued, but his mind refused to budge. Too many things added up for him to ignore the evidence. Her skills, her secrets, her refusal to discuss a future with him.
Because she never intended to have a future with him.
His hands tightened around the crown. It was all a lie. She never loved him. She was just waiting for the right moment to slit his throat. His face grew hot, despite the lack of sunlight in the corridors. How could I have been stupid enough to fall in love with an assassin?
Then the memory of her feather-light kisses across his cheeks doused his anger. He recalled the passion in her eyes when they made love, the raw emotion whenever she looked at him, the way she whispered his name when she lay in his arms every night. Either she was one of the best actresses in the empire, or she truly cared for him. If he ordered her execution now, he’d never know for sure.
But he wasn’t going to gamble on being wrong.
“Take her to the prison.” His voice sounded too cold to his own ears. It belonged to a man devoid of emotion. A man of logic. A man he’d once strived to be before an Alpirion entered his life and made him question everything he’d known. “When she awakens, we will question her thoroughly and decide her fate.”
Galerius motioned for two of his men to take her. Marcus brushed past him, caught his eye, and nodded. Some of the fear eased from Titus’s chest when he saw his friend was well armed. Marcus would personally see that no one would act as a vigilante between here and the palace. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Too bad there were more problems to deal with.
“Halt.” Everyone in the area froze. Galerius closed the gap between him and the wounded soldier, studying him with narrowed eyes. “Return to the barracks and have your wounds tended to. You are not to leave until you give me a full report.”
Two more members of the Legion fell into step beside him as they pushed through the crowd. Galerius stepped back, his expression still tight. “I will get to the bottom of this by any means necessary, Your Majesty.”
A chill raced up Titus’s spine and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Whatever methods Galerius would use to gain the truth, they wouldn’t be gentle.
“But first, I need to make sure you return to the palace safely.”
Titus nodded and was about to follow when he caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. “Wait. There’s one more question that needs to be answered.” He turned to Pontus. “I’d like to know how the Rabbit ended up in my harem, coz.”
His cousin’s face paled, but his expression remained placid. “Naturally. I had no idea the Rabbit was a woman. I just sent word out that I was looking for a woman to offer to you, and I chose her out of those that responded.”
Titus resisted the urge to call Pontus a liar in front of the crowd. “Maybe, but I’m sure Captain Galerius would like to ask you a few more questions.”
“As you wish, Your Imperial Majesty.” Pontus lowered his head in the same mocking bow he gave him two weeks ago.
Titus tightened his jaw. Varro, Marcus, Galerius—they’d all been right to suspect Azurha was hiding something. He never suspected something this big, though. His pulse thudded in an odd rhythm as he exited the coliseum. He would force the truth from her now and not let his heart or his cock overrule him.
But if I discover what I fear, will I be able to order her death?
26
The cold ache that seeped into her bones told Azurha she wasn’t dead yet. That, and the pounding in her head as she lay on a wet floor. She cursed the gods for denying her death. If they had been merciful, she would have drawn her last breath at Titus’s feet, not waking up to the pain of betrayal.
She tried not to think about the hurt in his eyes as her senses slowly sharpened. It was times like this when she wished her heart could be as numb as her fingertips. Her unconscious fog began to lift, even though the darkness remained. The clink of metal chains filled her ears when she tried to move her arms from behind her, and another stone dropped into her stomach. The air squeezed from her lungs, making it hard to draw in the next breath. Memories of the last time she had been bound like this assaulted her with more malice than Cassius could ever manage.
Time passed in the steady drips of water from somewhere in the cell while Azurha forced her pounding heart to slow. This was no time to panic. For some unknown reason, she’d been spared, but her presence here also meant that Cassius had probably escaped. Every second she wasted letting fear grip her meant one lost second where she could be killing the true villains.
She pulled herself up to her knees and tested the chains that bound her wrists behind her back. They rattled against the stone wall, sliding back and forth through an iron ring, but didn’t budge. Another effort confirmed her suspicion that she wouldn’t be able to yank them free. She crawled forward. The length of the chain gave her maybe a yard to work with, barely enough to fight off an attacker. If anyone came in, she’d be a sitting target for their sword. She sank back on her heels with a sigh and tried to get a feel for the manacles around her wrists.
She should have told Titus the truth. Then at least he would have been warned.
Regret gnawed at her. She’d been selfish to keep her secrets to herself. The temptation to stay in Titus’s arms had been too much for her to refuse. But now there was nothing left for her to hold onto. Her identity had been revealed, for certain. Even if Titus forgave her betrayal, he couldn’t ignore the hundreds of people she’d murdered over the years.
You’ll never find a knot you can’t unravel.
The soothsayer’s words mocked her more viciously than ever. So far, the cell had not yielded any clue to help free her. She might as well wait here until they sent the executioner. She jerked the chains with a cry of frustration and felt something slip on her left wrist.
Azurha froze, scared she’d hallucinated the sensation. She twisted her wrist again, and the manacle scraped along her bracelet. Hope replaced the pessimism that had bound her soul. She retreated to the wall to create some slack in the chains and began to shimmy the manacle up her arm.
Several minutes passed as the metal cuff inched further along her bracelet with each half twist. If she could manage to get it off her bracelet, she could remove the thick gold band and maybe squeeze her hand through the manacle.
The metal bit into her forearm as it moved up, shedding a layer of her skin with its progress. The sting brought tears to her eyes. She bit her bottom lip and continued with the subtle side to side twisting motion.
At last, she felt the clunk she was searching for. The manacle had moved above her bracelet, and she blindly fumbled for the hidden p
in that would release the gold cuff from her wrist. After a few seconds, she found it. The bracelet fell to the ground with a thud that echoed off the walls, and her heart grew lighter. Despite the pain that throbbed in her left arm, she was one step closer to freedom.
The manacle was sticky with what she could only imagine was her blood when she wrapped her right hand around it. A quick jerk pulled it down to her hand. Azurha bit back a scream as the cold air bathed her raw skin with hundreds of pin-pricks. It took several deep breaths to fight off the trembling pain that threatened to overtake her.
I can’t give up now. I’m so close.
She repeated those words over and over again until she gathered enough courage to begin the next arduous task—squeezing her hand through the small metal ring. With her thumb pressed against her little finger to make her palm as narrow as possible, she tried to slide the manacle over her hand. As with her forearm, she met the same resistance, and the metal edge became a dull razor blade. A sob broke free from her throat while she repeated the same shimmying motion as before. Warm, wet blood coated her hand and acted as a lubricant, allowing her to slide the manacle a fraction of an inch before the pain halted her movement.
Her jaw ached from gritting her teeth, and her stomach lurched with each tug. Waves of nausea rolled up to the top of her throat and made her fatigued arms tremble. But the manacle refused to budge any further, no matter how hard she pulled.
She’d tried, and she’d failed.
Azurha leaned against the wall, pressing her throbbing hand against the cold stone to ease the tenderness. The only way she was getting free was if the gods bestowed some miracle on her. They had in the past. The shard of pottery Ramina had given her granted her freedom in more than one way. But no one would come to her aid here. Only a key could free her this time. And while she rotted away in this cell, Pontus could be plunging a dagger into Titus’s back.
The image of Titus lying dead on the ground stirred a new emotion inside her. It heated her veins and pounded through her fatigued muscles, reviving them with the power of anger. As long as she still breathed, she refused to give up on saving Titus. She squeezed her left hand tight and gave one final yank.
The sensation of flesh being torn from her hand manifested in a shrill scream, and her head spun. But when the world righted itself again, Azurha looked down at the freed hand in her lap. It worked. She’d gotten one hand free. Now she just needed to do the same to the other side.
She set to work twisting the manacle off of her right bracelet until sounds from outside her cell made her pause.
A chair being knocked over.
A man’s voice calling out for help and ending in a gurgle.
Sounds she was all too familiar with after the number of throats she’d slit.
Torchlight flickered through the gaps in the door, growing brighter as the footsteps became louder. Her heart pounded, and her mouth went dry. Someone was coming for her. Was it a friend or a foe?
Azurha eased back against the wall, hiding her wounded arm behind her back so her visitor wouldn’t know that she had at least one free hand. As it was, it wouldn’t be very useful in its current condition. Her hand was so raw and swollen that even making a fist had become a chore. Freeing her hand doubled the length of chain she had available to use, however, and she started listing the ways she could defend herself with it.
Keys rattled outside her door, and the locks clicked. The hinges groaned as the door opened. A man clad in the Legion’s armor stood in the doorway, but shadows concealed his face.
Azurha licked her lips and gathered the slack in her right hand. The muscles in her legs coiled tighter as she prepared to spring at the solider as soon as he came into range.
Several seconds ticked while he stood just inside the cell. The angle of his torch illuminated her position but kept her from seeing his face.
At last, he moved to place the torch in its holder. “Ah, Little Rabbit, I never dreamed I’d be in this position.”
She was forced to swallow several times before her parched throat worked. “What position would that be, Cassius?”
“Don’t play innocent with me, Azurha. I’m the one who taught you everything you know.” He pulled out his gladius and moved into the light. An ugly cut snaked across his cheekbone, its edges already turning black from the poison she’d coated her blade with. “And yet, you’ve disappointed me.”
He was taking his time to taunt her before he killed her, but time was what she needed while the poison seeped into his system. She eyed his short, flat sword and calculated the best way to avoid this strikes. “How so?”
Cassius laughed and pulled out a bottle from his belt. He poured a few drops onto the blade and rubbed the liquid along the sharp edges with his tunic. “For starters, didn’t you listen to me when I taught you to always use poison as backup?”
“Who says I didn’t?” As he came closer, she saw the telltale lines of black bleeding out from wounds she inflicted on him earlier. She had chosen a long acting poison for a reason—to give her a chance to wrench a confession from Pontus if necessary. Unfortunately, it wasn’t quick enough to prevent this standoff with Cassius. “Or have you not looked in a mirror lately?”
Cassius stopped and ran his finger along his cheek. His lips twisted into a cold grin. “Then it seems I’ll be following you into the afterlife, but first I get the pleasure of watching you die.” He took a step closer. “You see, I never use the slow-acting poison.”
Azurha drew in a deep, slow breath to keep the fear growing inside the pit of her stomach from seizing control of her. “But I doubt you’ll have time to kill Titus if you wait for me to draw my last breath.”
Cassius laughed again. This time, the sound sent a chill racing down her spine. “Little Rabbit, I wasn’t hired to kill him. Just you.”
His sword flashed in the torchlight as it sliced through the air toward her. She rolled to her side, the chain slipping from her sweat-soaked hand, and swiped her leg at Cassius’s ankles.
He stumbled forward but didn’t fall. His smile morphed into a snarl. “So, you’ve already managed to partially free yourself. It will make my story that you attacked me that much more believable.”
“If you live to tell it.”
The words flew from her lips before she had a chance to register what she’d said. Deep inside, though, an iron-willed determination raced through her veins and revitalized her body and spirit. She was the Rabbit, after all—the best assassin in the empire—and it was time her former master learned that painful lesson.
She grasped the chain in her hand and snapped it toward his face like a whip. Cassius staggered back with a yelp, his hand flying to his injured eye. She attacked again, aiming for any vulnerable place on his body she could find. His arms. His legs. His face. He continued to retreat from her onslaught until she could no longer chase him. As hard as she pulled, the chain refused to budge and dug even deeper to the soft flesh of her hand.
Cassius wiped his face and spit blood out of his mouth. His grin now revealed a broken tooth, but that didn’t prevent him from raising his sword again. “Poor Little Rabbit’s reached the end of her leash, eh?”
Azurha tugged once more on the chain in the vain hope that her hand would slip out. Instead, a gasp broke free from her mouth, signaling her failure as clear as any shout.
You’ll never find a knot you can’t unravel.
She mentally screamed at the soothsayer who haunted her thoughts. If ever she needed to find a way to free herself, it was now. She’d beaten Cassius as hard as she could with what weapons she had available, but even the poison slowly working its way through his body wouldn’t stop him. This was more than just a job to him. This was punishment. She’d broken the code, the list of rules he’d taught her over the years, and he wanted to make sure she paid for disobeying him.
He was no different from her old master, she realized when she saw the anger contorting Cassius’s face into an expression she’d witnessed numerous t
imes during her life as a slave. As long as he lived, she would never truly be free.
As soon as she accepted that truth, her role changed. She was back in her master’s old house, bound to the pillars and faced with the decision to continue along this path or to gain her freedom through blood.
And blood would be spilled that day. She may die, but she would die a free woman.
When Cassius’s blade bore down on her again, she held nothing back. He had become her prey.
Her mind raced with a new plan of attack. First, she needed to disarm him. Instead of flinging the chain at his body, she spun around, wrapping the chain around the blade as she avoided his strike. Cassius fell forward, unbalanced, and all it took was a quick tug on her end to yank the sword from his hand. It sailed through the air and landed on the other side of the cell with a hollow clang.
Cassius regained his footing and dove for his weapon. Azurha followed, trying to tackle him before he reached it. The manacle on her wrist kept her from reaching above his ankles. She managed to trip him up but not prevent him from grabbing his weapon. He whipped around with the speed of a viper striking.
A line of fire burned along her side, driving the breath from her lungs. She twisted to avoid the blade sinking deeper into her flesh and ignored the little voice of warning that pealed in her mind. He’d wounded her with a poisoned blade, and her time to save Titus grew short.
As if he smelled her blood, Cassius jumped to his feet like a fully grown lyger in the middle of the hunt. His sword shot out, aiming for her heart, and time seemed to freeze.
Instead of seeing her former mentor’s face twisted with fury, she saw the pain in Titus’s eyes at the Coliseum. I will not die without telling him the truth, she whispered to herself. The pain vanished. Her fear retreated. And she knew what she had to do to kill Cassius.
She darted to the side at the last moment and looped the chain around Cassius’s neck. His forward momentum immediately pulled the chain taut, and a strangled cry punched the air.
Tangled Web Page 24
