Healed (Book Three of the Castle Coven Series): A Witch and Warlock Romance Novel

by Hazel Hunter

  There was only one thing that marred the event for her. The young cithara player next to her was quite skilled. With the guild badge she wore, it should have marked her as off-limits for the guests. One of the men, however, saw no difference between that girl and the slaves that were meant to warm the beds. The young girl’s piteous cries roused Liona from her reading. Her head snapped up in time to see the man pinning the girl to the wall. Perhaps her position had made her overbold of late, or perhaps that girl looked a little too much like Augusta. No matter what it was, Liona excused herself from her corner and stalked over to the man.

  He was drunk, as were most of the guests. He leered down at her when Liona caught his arm, but her look was thunderous.

  “Let her go, and perhaps you won’t meet your end stabbed in an alley behind a house of ill-repute. Perhaps they won’t bring your ring back to your crying daughter. Perhaps if you change your ways, more than just your illegitimate daughter will mourn you.”

  The man paled. That future was closer than some of the ones that Liona had told that night. The man seemed to know it as well. He stumbled back, cursing at both of them, and Liona turned to the girl, helping her straighten her clothes.

  “It’s fine, love. See, he’s gone.”

  The girl nodded miserably.

  “There will always be more like that one, but thank you.” The girl paused. “Aren’t you worried you are going to get in trouble?”

  Liona smiled at her with more bravado than she felt.

  “Oh, me, I’m fine. I’ve got the second sight, you see.”

  She turned back to her corner, to the drunken matron who was waiting to hear about how many children she would have. As she went, however, she caught the gaze of a man standing close. In the darkness, she could only make out that he was well-built and dark-haired. He wore the fine, linen robes of a well-off man. As she eyed him warily, he nodded at her. She caught a flash of a grin, and he moved off again. There was something about him that made her shiver. Though she went back to her work, the incident stayed with her.

  On her way home, keeping to the quieter streets, she had time to think about that man. An army man, she figured, given that build. She didn’t hold much truck with the gods, but she wondered, half-fancifully if he was one, come to watch the mortals at their sport. He was too old and too sturdy to be beautiful Bacchus, too tall to be Vulcan, the god of the forge.

  She thought of the curve of his lips. It made her remember that Mars, though the god of war, was supposed to be a fine lover. She shook her head at her fanciful imaginings. It had been more than a year since she had thought of love and lovers. She should leave well enough alone.

  Perhaps it was her imaginings about Mars that made her blind. One moment she was walking through the dark streets, unafraid and secure. The next, a strong hand grabbed her by the hair while another wrapped over her mouth. The man who held her pulled her into the alleyway, moving her as if she only weighed as much as a struggling chicken.

  “Bitch,” he whined in her ear. “Bitch, cursing me, giving me that fate.”

  She recognized the man, her heart sinking. He was drunk and much stronger than she was. Panic gave her a surge of strength. Though she lashed out with feet and elbows, he seemed insensible to her struggles.

  Instead, he started dragging her away, making her mind go white with terror. In the alley, someone might see them and drive him off. In a secret place with no one to see or hear, she might never be heard from again.

  She braced herself to break free, but then the man stopped in his tracks. He was pulled away from her as easily as someone might pick up a puppy.

  Liona twisted around just in time to see a cloaked figure turn her attacker around, and drive his head into the stone wall. The man groaned and slumped to the ground. Her rescuer took her by the arm.

  “We should move on before his guards catch up. That is a rather wealthy man I have just assaulted.”

  Liona nodded. “Shall we run?”

  “Let’s.”

  • • • • •

  Hailey’s eyes widened in indignation

  “Wasn’t there anyone you could report that to? He attacked you!”

  Liona laughed softly, stroking Hailey’s hair. Though she looked as if she could have been the same age as Hailey, in that moment, Hailey felt quite young.

  “No, dear one,” Liona said. “He was the son of a consul, a man that you did not interfere with, if you knew what was good for you. Later on, Lucius told me–”

  “Lucius?”

  “The man who rescued me. He was a legatus at that point, an important role in the legion to be sure, but still he had earned that by killing a lot of men at the right time and the right place. He would win a political position in a few years, but just then, he was a little more interested in keeping a mouthy little fortuneteller alive.” She paused, a little smile curving her full lips. “We ended up in a private room above a dicing parlor, where we shared a bit of wine, and…”

  “And?” Hailey grinned. Her heart beat a little faster. “Was he interested in a little bit more?”

  “Well, let us just say he tried.”

  • • • • •

  With his cloak draped carelessly over the hook on the door and his powerful body sprawled on the low couch, Liona’s mind danced with thoughts of Mars come to rest on Venus’s couch. He was strong with a face that would have been severe except for his wide and generous mouth. That mouth was currently curled into a sly smile that Liona felt down to her toes.

  “Surely you don’t have to leave yet. I have this room for hours, and I’m sure that there are plenty of uses we could put it to.”

  The urge to say yes was surprisingly keen. She had barely known him for a few hours, but the attraction was real, that much she knew. A part of her whispered how easy it would be to climb into bed with him, to see whether the promise of that clever mouth and those long, lovely fingers held up.

  She shook her head.

  “As a matter of fact, my sister is likely worried sick about me. I thank you for your intervention, and I also thank you for the company, but I should be on my way.”

  She watched him closely to see if he would try to prevent her from leaving, but though he looked regretful, he made no move to stop her.

  “Perhaps you would tell me my future. It would help me figure out if I were ever going to see you again.”

  “That costs silver,” Liona said teasingly. “Do you have some?”

  He thought for a moment, and he held up a single ivory die instead. He rolled it between his fingers speculatively, glancing up at her. Liona stood at the foot of the low bed. For a moment, she wondered if this was what a man felt, looking down at a beautiful woman he wanted to bed but couldn’t.

  “Odds say that you tell me my future, evens say you don’t have to, how is that?”

  Liona pretended to think.

  “Odds I tell you your future. Evens I kiss you.”

  Lucius’s laugh sent a shiver up her spine.

  “That’s beyond fair. You throw.”

  The die came up with a two, and she looked at him speculatively.

  “Now where shall I kiss you?”

  He grinned, folding his hands behind his head.

  “Anywhere you like. You’ve won.”

  She leaned over his body for a long moment, smelling the clean scent of soap and the slightly sour fragrance of wine. She thought about teasing him with a kiss on his nose or his forehead, but in the end, her appetites were too much to resist.

  Liona leaned down and kissed him on the mouth, dancing her tongue over his lips. His mouth was hot and wet underneath hers. It was intoxicating to take what she wanted, to thread her fingers through his short curly hair and to hold him still as she kissed him on and on.

  When she finally broke away, she knew her face looked flushed. He looked like a cat who had gotten in the cream.

  He held up the dice again.

  “I’ll try again if you will.”

&nb
sp; Liona wavered. She knew that she should go home to Augusta, but he was so handsome, temptation incarnate.

  “Odds I tell your fortune, evens…evens I want you naked.”

  He laughed out loud.

  “So long as you won’t claim my clothes for a forfeit, I agree.”

  This time he threw the die, and it rolled up a six.

  She looked at him expectantly.

  “This is why they tell you not to gamble in the legion.”

  As she watched, he slipped off his sandals. Then his hands went to the belt that kept his robes closed and the silver medallions that fastened them at the shoulder. In a matter of seconds, his clothes were draped over the back of the chair. Lucius sat on the edge of the bed, naked, and unashamed, dark green eyes watching her intently.

  Liona felt her mouth go dry. She had flirted with the idea of him being Mars, the god of warfare, but this was something different. He was muscled from a lifetime of soldiering, sleek and strong. His body was a tool for war. Every part of him below the eyebrows was shaved clean, as was the custom for the legions.

  Her eyes dropped to his cock, half-hard and heavy against his thigh. It twitched as if it could feel her gaze. For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to touch it. She had friends among the girls who sold themselves. Her experience with the art of love might have been brief, but she knew what she thought about late at night.

  She also knew that in the nights to come, she would think about this man and his body. She would think about sliding down to take his cock in her mouth, to hear the stifled sounds he would make.

  Liona realized she was staring when he coughed slightly. A rare blush on her cheeks, she jerked her gaze up.

  “Well, well, you’ve quite stolen my luck,” he said softly. “Shall one last time pay for all?”

  “I think not,” she said finally. “I like to quit while I’m ahead.”

  He laughed. Almost indolently, he ran a hand along his shaft, bringing it fully erect. She had to shake herself. She took a step back.

  “I must be off, legatus. Think fondly of me. I know I will think fondly of you.”

  “Your name. May I have it?”

  Liona grinned.

  “I should make you dice for it, but instead, I think I shall offer it to you as a gift. It’s Liona.”

  “Liona.” He rolled the name around his mouth like a delicious piece of candy, never taking his eyes from hers. “Beautiful little lioness. Thank you.”

  If she stayed another moment, she thought she might burst into flames or fall into bed with him. The light was coming up in the plaza, however. She knew it was best if she went home.

  “You’re welcome,” she murmured, and slipped out the door.

  • • • • •

  “You left him?” Hailey asked, the dismay in her voice so evident that she had to pause and clear her throat. “I mean, that must have been a difficult thing to do.”

  She had cuddled against Liona’s side, head resting on her shoulder, but now she looked up.

  Liona laughed a little, drawing her closer. Her delicate fingers smoothed back an errant lock of hair from Hailey’s forehead.

  “Not to worry, dear one. There would be more opportunities.” She tucked the lock of hair behind Hailey’s ear. “Many more.”

  • • • • •

  After that evening, things continued much as they ever had. Liona had made enough money that she and Augusta ate well. She walked in the plaza; she spoke with her friends. She came home at night, and she dreamed of Lucius.

  She wondered what kind of spell he had placed on her. Augusta, after she got through scolding her for all the risks she had taken, teased her relentlessly about it. She called Lucius the mysterious legatus, Liona’s phantom suitor. Liona, usually ready to give her sister as good as she got, found that she was oddly tongue-tied in the face of the teasing. Instead, she ducked her head, muttering something about being far too grown up for such things.

  “He’s a legatus, Augusta. He likely has no use for the likes of me beyond what he can get from any girl on the docks.”

  Augusta pulled a wise face, stroking her chin judiciously.

  “Perhaps, perhaps. However, how many of those girls would have made him club a consul’s son to the ground for her? How many of them would have played dice for her favors?”

  “I truly wish that I had never told you about any of that,” Liona groaned.

  Still, though, that insidious little voice whispered that her sister was right. She kept her eyes open for him when she wandered the city. Once or twice, she had seen a man of his height, build and coloration in the market or down by the fishmongers. Her heart had beaten faster, but it was never him.

  She began to think that damn sly grin of his was just meant to haunt her in her sleep. She was beginning to forget, or at least that’s what she told herself.

  Then Augusta disappeared.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LIONA WRAPPED A dark scarf around her head, covering her flyaway hair neatly. She put on Augusta’s dark cloak, making sure that she was covered from shoulder to ankle. It was still the darkest part of the night when she set out, but the dawn was coming.

  As she made her way down the street, the nightlife was finally giving up, crawling or limping or swaggering home to sleep. No one took any notice of her. She did her best to keep it that way by sticking close to the shadows, avoiding people when she could.

  Augusta had been missing for almost two days. Every time Liona thought of what might have happened to her sister, her stomach twisted like a wrung cloth. She talked with her friends who worked the brothels. They shook their heads sadly at her.

  “Old story, darling,” one of them had said. “Girls without protectors get kidnapped, and it doesn’t matter whether they’re citizens or not. They’re gone.”

  Liona clenched her teeth. Augusta did have a protector. It was her. Whenever she found out who had taken her sister, she had every intention of gutting them and leaving them for the crows. Those grim and gory thoughts at least kept her mind off what might have become of Augusta, who had simply gone out for cooking oil two days ago and never returned.

  Another girl, taking pity on Liona’s despair, had given her a piece of information.

  “Ignacio, who keeps the big warehouse close to the docks, the one with the green tile roof, he’s a slaver. I know that he’s got a big lot that he’s planning on sending to the markets in Thessaly. You might look there. Perhaps she got mixed in.”

  There was no way that a slaver of any renown was going to deal with a landless girl. Instead, Liona cloaked herself as best she could, making her way down to the docks. She had a large knife with her. If it was just one guardsman, perhaps she could threaten him into releasing Augusta.

  She had just come to the dark warehouse when she realized that she was not alone. Padding silently by her side, eyes large and yellow, was one of the feral dogs that roamed the streets. It was huge, standing almost as high as her ribs. For a moment, Liona was startled, but when it opened its mouth in a large, doggy grin, she was comforted and went on her way.

  She moved closer to the warehouse. From inside, she could hear the sounds of people grumbling and snoring. She knew it was the place. Liona circled it a few times, wondering what she intended to do.

  Even as she had that thought, the door creaked open and a man stepped out, striding down the street and away. The door had been left open, and she slipped in quickly and quietly. The interior of the building was lit with a few lamps, and she could see a single man sitting at the table, rolling a pair of dice in his hands.

  “Come back with my winnings so soon, Flavius?”

  As quickly as she could, she bolted the door behind her. When she turned back to the man, the dog stood at her side, loyal as a pet.

  “I am not Flavius, and you are going to tell me what I need to know.”

  The man sprang to his feet. He might have been willing to take his chances with a single girl, no matter how large her knif
e was, but the dog by her side was another matter.

  “Here now, you’ve got no business here.”

  “We’ll see about that. Answer my questions and I’ll be done. I’m looking for a girl, about seventeen and fair. Round face, blue eyes. Do you have her here?”

  The man tensed, shaking his head, but something about it made Liona suspicious. She took a step closer, knife up. The dog by her side growled, a guttural, threatening sound. She couldn’t have planned the animal’s reaction any better. It quickly made the man change his tune.

  “We did…that is, we did for a little while. Kind of small, cursed up a storm?”

  Liona nodded, eyes never leaving the man’s frightened face.

  “Yeah, we had her for a few days. She…she was bought along with a tall black man with scars on his face. It looked like the people who took them were looking for them.”

  Looking for them? Who would be looking for Augusta?

  “These people, what did they look like?”

  “Like people, I don’t know. They all wore pendants with a hand reaching out of a flame. They had money.” He glanced from the knife to the dog. “Look, that’s all I know.”

  Though Liona might have asked him more, the dog leapt at him. To her horror it seized him by the throat before he could get his hands up. As the pair landed on the floor, Liona couldn’t avert her eyes quick enough. The massive jaws ripped the man’s throat out.

  She stifled the urge to scream, skirted the horrific scene as best she could, and ran to a door at the back of the close room. She unbolted it, and what she saw inside made her sick.

  There were possibly dozens of people packed in like sardines. The reek of the place gave her a headache. They were all collared and a chain ran from collar to collar. Some of the slaves had to be less than five years old. She found the key hanging on the wall and tossed it to one of the men, who watched her with avid eyes.