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Authors: Joan Kayse

Tags: #Romance, #Historical

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BOOK: Barbarian's Soul
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A mixture of surprise and gratitude crossed the woman’s features. She gave a slight nod of acknowledgement, grasped the sack to her bare chest and darted down the stairs.

Adria wasted no time. It was pure terror, instead of the usual thrill she felt at procuring an item, that had her heart pounding against her ribs as she swung her legs through the window. She stretched out, reached for the narrow ledge with her foot. Behind her she heard Tiege shouting for his men to catch the bitch on pain of death. Not wanting to contemplate how painful the death would be if he caught her, she inched her way along the ridge of the roof, finding handholds in the chipped mortar as she went.

She gave a small shriek when she lost her footing near the corner but managed to regain her balance. She forced herself to slow her breathing. If she panicked she would fall right into Tiege’s hands—literally. From the confused cacophony of voices below her she knew she had precious few moments before they deduced her escape route.

Adria took three more cautious steps, relieved when she found the wooden plank she’d laid between the roofs of the tenement and temple still in place. She quickly crossed, then slid the unwieldy board over the edge, grinning at the loud screech when it landed on one of Tiege’s men.

She had no time to waste. With a death grip on the pouch, Adria raced across the flat roof of the building. From the temple beneath her she heard chanting. The acolytes of the deity must be performing a ritual. With apologies to the resident goddess Laverna she whispered a prayer of thanks to another goddess, Fortuna. It would be a simple matter for her to slip among the worshipers and evade Tiege’s men.

A flickering light illumed the stairway opening leading to the central room of the temple. Adria crept along the wall, careful not to make any noise. An unnecessary precaution since the chatter from the ceremony would mask the noise of a charging bull.

Reaching the bottom step, she spared a glance at the ring of red-robed priests and stopped in her tracks. They were bowing before the effigy of a woman with long, flowing hair holding a pouch and poised to flee. Adria flipped her long braid behind her and stared at the bag in her own hand.

Gods, she just wanted to be gone, wanted to be somewhere safe. Knowing the front entrance led straight to Tiege’s door, she slipped around the altar and hurried along a narrow hall to the rear of the temple. A kitchen slave raised her head, any surprise at her sudden appearance hidden behind a practiced expression of indifference. Adria ignored it and stepped outside.

With swift movements, she counted out the money she’d promised Parius’ wife, found the bucket and placed the coins beneath it. With one foot she eased it into the shadows and said another prayer no one would steal it before the woman could retrieve it. Added another prayer that the woman would live to retrieve it. The gate that led to the back street and safety was only a few feet away. At her first step the fine hair at the nape of her neck stood on end.

“Woman. Where is my property?”

 

Chapter Six

 

S
he was going to die after all.

Adria did not have to look over her shoulder to know it was the barbarian who stood behind her. Even if she had not recognized the deep, accented baritone, the anger that rolled off of him in palpable waves dispelled any doubt. Slowly, she turned and found her face pressed into a broad chest.

The wool of his tunic caused her nose to twitch. She inhaled. His scent was unlike anything she’d ever smelled before, at least not in the streets of Rome. An intoxicating blend of spicy musk and heat. Her nostrils flared. There was something else, something she could only describe as pure male. Why did she feel a sudden urge to press closer? Shaking the sensation away, she tilted her head back and looked into the face of Hades.

Her breath caught in her throat. No, not Hades. Apollo or perhaps Adonis, though Adria doubted either of the gods known for their handsome visages could compare to this man’s raw, masculine allure. From a distance he had been striking. This close he was—she blew out a shaky breath—devastating.

The scant light from the temple’s doorway did nothing to dampen her impression. The harsh planes of his face were shadowed by a day’s growth of beard which should have made him appear unkempt, but only increased his appeal. A straight nose that would make a patrician envious was set over firm lips pulled now into a thin line of displeasure. A muscle ticked in his square jaw, set tight against a rage Adria sensed was barely controlled. She lifted her eyes and met his gaze, her suspicion confirmed. Eyes the color of emeralds, hard and cold with anger.

Perhaps he was a god, Adria thought, for his glare held her enthralled. A distant part of her wanted to fall into those eyes but her survival instincts overruled the idea. She was adept at many evasive maneuvers including distraction and reasoning. Perhaps she could convince him to release her? She took another survey of his seething expression. No, she supposed not. Raising her arms as if to push against his chest, Adria resorted to the most reliable method she knew and aimed her knee at his groin.

His reflexes were like lightening. She never saw him move but instead of sending him prostrate on the ground howling in pain, Adria found herself teetering on one leg, her right limb caught in his broad, left hand. Her gasp of outrage mixed with his growled foreign curse as he released her. Adria recovered swiftly and made to dash past him but the brute shifted his stance, blocking her way. Using his intimidating height, he backed her against the stone wall of the temple.

“Are you deaf as well as a thief?”

Gods, had he just growled?

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head down to look into hers. “Where. Is. My. Property?”

“I do not know what you are asking?” she squeaked. She stifled a groan. How appropriate since she felt like a mouse caught by a cat. No, not a cat. A lion!

Adria suppressed a scream when he wrapped his large hands around each of her arms. Better than her neck, she supposed, but no less disconcerting than the heat of his callused palms on her skin. Gods.

“You are not a simpleton, woman,” he stated, lifting her as if she were a straw doll until her toes brushed the ground.

Adria’s mind raced. She could scream for help but the only assistance at hand was Tiege and his men—not a good choice. Pretending to faint might provide an opportunity to slip away. As if reading her thoughts, the pressure of his grip tightened. Her own temper flared. “You’re hurting me!”

Something shifted behind that penetrating gaze. If she wasn’t being held captive by an unprincipled heathen, Adria would have thought it guilt. Whatever the emotion, it was quickly replaced by a frightening resolve. He loosened his punishing hold but still held her fast.

“Where is the jewelry?” he repeated, his voice all the more frightening for its calmness.

Adria opened her mouth, prepared to deny her involvement when she looked into his eyes again. This man, this barbarian also was no simpleton. There was intelligence in those emerald depths. Admitting her guilt or not, he would soon discover that Tiege had the jewelry.

Tiege had the jewelry
.

Hope flared in her chest.

Adria pushed against his arms, which was like pushing against granite and squirmed until he set her on her feet. Still caught between his well-muscled arms, Adria lifted her chin and motioned toward the tenement. “Your property is in there.”

The barbarian glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “My jewelry is in a kitchen?”

Fear stifled a bubble of anxious laughter. She shook her head. “No. In the tenement next to it...on the other side of this building. A thief named Tiege has it.” She settled back, waited for him to release her to go retrieve the items. What a brilliant solution. She would be free, she would still have the money and this barbarian and Tiege could take care of each other.

“Come.”

Adria had no time to recover from her shock and even less to protest as he grasped her wrist and started for the tenement.

“No, wait!” Adria dug her heels into the rocky soil. Her efforts did nothing to deter him, only caused the worn leather of her sandals to slip, the sides of her feet scraping in the rocky soil as he dragged her forward. She cursed as a shard of broken pottery sliced her toe. “I will only be a hindrance to you.”

“Does it appear I am being hindered?” he asked in a dry, mocking voice.

Adria’s mind raced as he strode toward Tiege’s lair. She could still hear echoed cries of the master thief’s men as they searched for her. This man had no idea the danger that awaited him. Tiege had at least ten men armed with knives, swords, and clubs with him at all times. Tonight there had been twice that number along with a ragtag group of street boys pretending to be men, which for all their bravado were just as dangerous. Even the handful of whores who served the master thief were known to carry blades. He was walking to his doom—and dragging her along with him.

She had no experience with barbarians. Did they respond to reason? She glared at the tense line of his broad shoulders and knew the answer was no. “This is not a wise decision.”

The barbarian halted in mid-step, causing Adria to stumble into him. A fleeting impression of his hard body beneath his tunic had her jumping back as far as his restraining hold would allow. They were mere feet from the noise and light of the lair entrance but all she could see was the fire in his eyes as he whirled on her.

A small muscle ticked in his cheek and his gaze seared her. “The lack of wisdom came when you decided to steal from me!”

A twinge of regret tugged at her, added to her disconcertion. She buried it beneath her own anger. “I did not steal from you. I stole from the jeweler, Paulin.”

The barbarian narrowed his eyes. “Moments after my bargain with the man had been struck.”

He was not only angry, she realized, but indignant as well. “You were not there,” she countered, the rationale sounding weak even to her own ears.

Another growl of frustration. “Woman, I have not the time to debate. I want my property.”

“There you are, you little bitch. I...”

Adria saw only a blur as her captor’s fist shot out. Tiege’s man crumpled to the ground in a soundless heap. She stared at the rivulet of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth then raised wide eyes to her captor’s expressionless face. With as much effort as an ordinary man might take to swat a pesky fly, he had knocked a man as tall and broad as he unconscious. “Is he dead?” she heard herself asking.

A shadow of disgust passed over his face and his voice had an odd hitch to it. “I do not kill for the sport of it.” He spared a glance at the unconscious man. “But had I wanted him dead, he would be so.”

Adria sensed a shift within him, an increased tension. Her gaze fell on the broad hand still wrapped around her wrist. Though he’d loosened his hold when she’d complained he was still very much in control. He was dangerous and, she thought as he turned and continued toward the tenement, insane as well.

Terror overwhelmed her pride. She had to forestall him, discover a way to escape before he confronted the master thief. “You can’t go in there,” she protested, pulling futilely against his hold. “They are armed.”

He paused and blew out an annoyed breath. “As am I.”

His free hand moved to a leather sheath at his hip. Swirled designs of bronze similar to the ones she’d admired on the jewelry framed its length. The hilt was bound with thick cords of leather, the pommel of beaten silver. If the blade within were half as well made as its covering, it would be a formidable weapon.

“Now be silent,” he snarled, moving forward.

Adria could not have spoken had she wanted to, not with panic clogging her throat. Oh, how the gods must be laughing at the mess she’d created. Tempting fate was never a wise thing and she had done just that by stealing for profit instead of necessity. Never mind that the underlying motive had been to help Miriam, pride and arrogance had spurred her on and now she would pay the price. As they reached the threshold of the lair, she began to beat her fist against his arm. “Release me!”

She thought she heard him laugh, a hollow, dark sound that sank her already pounding heart down to her stomach, but it also sparked her temper. Adria clung to that bit of fury and began to scratch and kick in earnest. Brushing aside the bite of her nails, the barbarian grasped the leather handle of the warped wooden door and flung it open.

The raucous crowd within the hall turned as one and fell into a dead silence. Adria stumbled around to shield herself behind the barbarian but he would not allow it, pressing her against his side in full view of her enemy.

Tiege raised a hand to ward off the few men who had overcome their shock and were moving in their direction. Adria shot a look at her captor’s chiseled profile. Jaw set, expression like a stone mask he showed no concern that he was about to die.

“Ah, you’ve found her,” said Tiege in a voice coated in honey and laced with vinegar. “My thanks for returning my slave.”

Adria tried to twist free, succeeded only in making her wrist burn. “I am not his slave,” she hissed, glaring at the weasel faced thief. Tiege responded with a smirk.

The barbarian made an impatient noise. “She is not your slave.”

Oh, thank the gods.

“She is mine.”

Adria’s eyes went round in disbelief then narrowed with fury. “I am no one’s slave! I am a freewoman!” A freewoman about to die a horrible death.

“And a thief,” he answered out of the corner of his mouth.

The anger she’d been clinging to fled as the master thief threw back his head and laughed. It was a foreboding sound that sent chills skittering down her spine. Ignoring the barbarian’s raised brow she grabbed his arm with her free hand and held tight. He was crazed—daring to call her a slave proved it—but at the moment he was the safer haven.

Sobering, Tiege took a step down from the dais. “No matter. We have business to settle, the girl and I. Leave her.”

A brittle smile cracked the barbarian’s stone visage. “Not until I have my property.”

BOOK: Barbarian's Soul
13.91Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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