“Is there anything I can do for you?”
He didn’t like seeing her like this. There was an aura of defeat about her that reminded him that she wasn’t just Prim
a Consul
, she was a woman who had limits, just like everyone else.
“Go, Lysander. I’ll be fine.” The command was unmistakable, but he heard the quiver in her voice. She was in pain, and he didn’t know how to help her. “
Now.”
Without another word, he left her alone.
Chapter 17
GABRIEL Russo stared at the marble chess set in front of him. He was losing. The fact pissed him off so much he wanted to kill the next person who entered the room. Glaring at the board, he carefully studied the pieces left.
“I believe it’s your move, Gabriel.”
He looked up at the man sitting across from him as Nicostratus’s voice rose upward to echo quietly against the cathedral ceiling. The library was one of his adoptive father’s favorite rooms. He wasn’t sure if it was the enormous room’s intimidating effect on anyone who entered or if Nicostratus simply enjoyed the intricately carved mahogany woodwork that lined the walls and bookshelves in the room.
Carvings that even by his measure of hate for the Sicari seemed a bit extreme. During childhood, this room had always made him uneasy with its frightening depictions of heretics being tortured for their sins. Nicostratus was watching him with his usual detached amusement that irritated him a lot more than he cared to admit. A thin veneer of contempt had always lain beneath his father’s affection for him. If one could call it affection. It had always made him feel he was unworthy of the name Russo.
“I’m thinking,” he said between clenched teeth. Across from him, Nicostratus sighed heavily.
“Either make a move or forfeit the game, Gabriel.”
Without touching his king, Gabriel turned it on its side to signal his acceptance of defeat. A chuckle rumbled in Nicostratus’s chest. It wasn’t a pleasant sound. But then his father had always enjoyed reminding him that he was not a true Praetorian despite his abilities or his loyalty. Maybe he should show his father exactly how powerful he was. The thought made him bite down on the inside of his cheek. He should feel gratitude, not anger toward his father.
Nicostratus was the reason he was still alive. The man had rescued him from his real father. Taken him before Marcus Vorenus, the Sicari Lord, could sacrifice him to his pagan gods. He owed his adoptive father his life. And the
bastardo
never let him forget it. Nicostratus arched an eyebrow at him and glanced down at the chess piece on its side.
“You were distracted during our game.” The unspoken question behind the statement was one he knew he was required to answer.
“I encountered an unusual Sicari couple last week at Hadrian’s temple. They’ve been on my mind of late.”
“I imagine they’re part of that small contingent of Sicari who are searching for the Tyet
of
Isis
. That pagan whore who gave birth to you is with them.”
There was a note of sadistic amusement in Nicostratus’s voice. He ignored it. That and the slight twinge that came at the mere mention of his mother. Growing up, he’d always harbored a secret wish that he could hear from her lips why she would let his birth father sacrifice him in one of the Sicari’s heretic rituals.
He’d not outgrown that secret wish. Even after all these years, he still wanted to know why. The tentacles of Nicostratus’s thoughts slowly slid into his head. He easily held the man’s probing at bay, biting back a satisfied smile as he sensed his father’s angry frustration. The older man withdrew from his head as a cruel smile curled his lips.
“Interesting, you’ve enhanced and strengthened control of your telepathic ability over the last several months.”
“You’ve taught me well … Father,” he said quietly as he watched Nicostratus realign the chess pieces on the board.
Nicostratus winced at the paternal reference. Gabriel tried to ignore the pain it caused him, but he couldn’t. It was like the tip of that unmentionable’s sword grazing across his stomach again. The heretic was the first fighter outside the brotherhood to lay a blade on him, but that humiliation was nothing compared to the lack of approval by the man who’d raised him.
He locked his jaw in a deliberate effort to keep his expression neutral. The last thing he wanted was for Nicostratus to know how much he needed the man’s blessing. One day he’d find a way to make the man proud of him, and then there’d be no doubt about his loyalty to the Praetorian brotherhood.
“Tell me, Gabriel, what was so unusual about this couple you met?” Clearly uninterested in whatever response he received, Nicostratus finished righting the chess set then stood up and carried it back to the library shelf where it had been kept since Gabriel was a boy.
“The woman is a healer.”
“That’s not unusual among Sicari females.” The bored sneer in the man’s voice made him grit his teeth.
“This one is special.” The quiet conviction in his voice made his father turn toward him with an expression of curiosity on his face.
“Special? How?”
“Her ability is the strongest I’ve ever come across. While probing her mind, I saw how
she brought the Zale woman back from the brink of death. I believe she is quite valuable.”
“Are you referring to the incident with Granby in Chicago?”
“Yes.” He ignored the unspoken criticism he heard in his father’s question. It had been a mistake to hire Granby. His mistake. And he was still paying for it months later.
“You have a name?”
The question made him nod as he reached into his robe pocket for a slip of paper. It seemed almost sacrilegious to give heretics names. He knew he was an exception among his brother Praetorians when it came to his fastidious avoidance of speaking the name of any unmentionable. Giving them names always made him feel unclean. He handed the paper to his father, who took it from him with a sigh of exasperation.
“Phaedra DeLuca. That name has a familiar ring.” His father frowned then shook his head in agreement. “Perhaps you’re correct. A woman with that kind of ability would most assuredly breed several strong healers.”
“Normally we would have to wait until she bears a child to have something to motivate her to heal. But I believe we can motivate her from the moment we bring her to the basilica.”
“Exactly what do you have in mind?” For the first time ever, there was a hint of something in the man’s voice that made him think he’d finally earned a small bit of approval. He shrugged off the thought.
“The unmentionable she was with. He means a great deal to her.”
“How does that help us?” The approval vanished.
“She loves the fighter. I believe she’s willing to do anything to protect him.”
“Hmm, possibly. But we have a limited supply of P
otior
for keeping the warrior sedated. We can’t afford to waste what we have simply in an effort to force the female to heal our wounded.”
“Then perhaps we should breed the two of them. Their offspring could strengthen the foundation of the Praetorian brotherhood.”
“What makes you think we need a heretic Sicari fighter and his whore to strengthen our bloodline?”
The contempt in Nicostratus’s voice filled him with resentment as he stood up to face the man who’d raised him. The note of disgust in his father’s voice was a reminder that his blood was Sicari as well. Would the man feel the same way about the Sicari warrior? He bit the inside of his cheek as the answer pounded through his head. He looked his adoptive father in the eye.
“Their offspring would be your grandchildren. The Sicari warrior is your
bastardo
son.”
The stunned look on his adoptive father’s face tugged a bitter smile to Gabriel’s lips as he watched the older man’s expression evolve into something akin to pleasure. The man actually seemed pleased by the announcement. He should have known it would be that way.
“So Lysander Condellaire has come to the place of his conception.” The way his father said the unmentionable’s name sickened him.
“Shall I arrange for their capture?”
“But of course,” Nicostratus said with a pleased smile. “Well done, my son. Well done.”
The unexpected praise sent a jolt of pleasure sailing through him as he bowed his head toward the man who’d raised him. As he straightened, he realized that Nicostratus wasn’t even looking at him. He grew rigid with anger. His father wasn’t pleased with him. The son of a bitch was pleased that the unmentionable was here in Rome.
A dark fury snarled its way into his limbs as he wheeled about on his heel and strode out of the library. He’d see that unmentionable dead first before he’d bring that piece of shit within spitting distance of the church. All these years, he’d always done everything his father had asked, and not once had the man given any indication that he was proud of him. And now, after all this time, this fuck had the balls to take pride in the actions of an unmentionable over him.
The door to the library thudded closed behind him, and he stood there dragging in deep gulps of air as he struggled to keep from going back into that room to kill the bastard outright. It would be a stupid thing to do. One didn’t kill a Patriarch of the Collegium without consequences. They’d send Alessandro, or worse, Silvestro, after him.
He was strong enough to beat Alessandro, but Silvestro was by far the most powerful of all the Praetorian Dominus. He didn’t stand a chance against him. Death was an inevitable fact of life, but exsili
um
was far worse. He wasn’t about to risk his soul for Nicostratus Russo. The Collegium and the Church were his life. Without them, he was nothing.
Footsteps whispered across the stone floor of the priory’s main hall, their owner headed in his direction. James. The boy had been fucking one of the women in the Sicari installation for weeks now, which meant they had access to Phaedra DeLuca. The young man came into view, and he walked toward his novitiate. Wrapping his arm around James’s shoulders, he turned him around so they headed back in the direction the young man had just come from.
“Well?”
“The Vi
gilavi
would never willingly betray those they serve, Your Grace, but Irini’s mind is like an open book. Everything she knows is information we can use to monitor the movements of the Sicari.”
“Good, good. I’m quite pleased with your work, James.”
Filled with glee at the thought of having access to the inner sanctum of the Sicari facility, he decided he would allow James open access to the bitch his father had brought into the seraglio over a year ago. The woman had given birth to a female child three months ago, and it was time they bred her again.
“Irini knows nothing about the Tyet
of Isis
. But she’s overheard the Sicari discussing a number of monuments in the lower Forum area. I believe they’re focusing their search in that vicinity.”
“Excellent. I have another task for you. I want to know whatever this Irini of yours knows about Phaedra DeLuca.”
“As you wish, sir. I’m seeing Irini again tonight.”
The seemingly innocent comment gave him pause, and he eyed the younger man closely. James had been seeing quite a bit of the woman of late. It would be a shame if the boy had succumbed to temptation. It was against Praetorian law to form attachments with a woman. Sex for pleasure’s sake or procreation was encouraged, but anything else meant severe consequences.
He would hate to have to kill James just when the boy was proving so useful. When the young man looked at him, there was a hint of awe in James’s face that wiped away his suspicion. The boy was a devout pupil. The idea of James feeling anything for this Irini woman was clearly misplaced.
“Then let’s hope this female of yours provides us with useful information. The Patriarch has taken a special interest in your efforts, and I would like to give him a positive report of your progress by the end of the week.”
“Thank you, sir. Oh, I almost forgot. There was one small thing. It was barely a memory, but Irini heard someone mentioning the Circus Maxentius. Perhaps we should have it watched?”
“Hmm, no. I doubt it’s of any importance.”
The minute he said no, something inside him revolted. He frowned as they continued walking along the stone corridor of the Collegium’s basilica. Perhaps he’d been too hasty
in his dismissal of the minute piece of information. The unmentionables
had
been visiting a great many of the old monuments.
“I imagine you’re correct, sir.” James bobbed his head in agreement. “As I said, it was a small thing.”
“But then good things come in small packages, don’t they, James?” He smiled at his novitiate. “I think your suggestion to watch the Circus Maxentius is an excellent one. Have one of the younger novices keep an eye on it, but only at night. The unmentionables will want to explore the ruins unencumbered by tourists or police.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now then, I have a surprise for you. Your work has been exceptional to date, and I believe you’re entitled to a reward. I intend to give you access to the unmentionable in the seraglio.”
“The bitch that tries to kill every Praetorian who comes near her?”
The excitement in the boy’s voice made him smile. There wasn’t a single Praetorian in the Rome Collegium who hadn’t wanted to be the first to fuck the unmentionable and emerge without receiving a scratch or bite. To date, not one Praetorian had succeeded in using the female and emerging unscathed. She was a wildcat.
He’d contemplated putting his own prick between her legs a number of times, but the idea of soiling himself in such a way repulsed him. James, however, seemed eager to take on the challenge. Clearly, his young protege was hoping to be the first to tame the bitch. The boy was enthusiastic enough that he might actually succeed where others failed.
In a way, he admired the unmentionable’s refusal to give in to her fate. But the child would no doubt change things now. The females allowed their connection to their infants to control them. No doubt, the female would willingly roll over for James the minute he offered her a chance to see the child.
