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“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. And I’m sorry for what my father did to your people. But I’m not him. I don’t want any part of him.”
“You are part of him, though,” he said, and finally there was the anger that she had expected.
“That sword that you have…I used to kill his spirit inside me. I wanted to die rather than live with what I had done. Please,” she said. “Please believe me. Look.” She pulled down her neckline to show part of the scar across her torso, right across her heart. “That’s all that’s left. I’m not lying. I thought I would die, but instead I became mortal.”
“We owe you a debt, without your memories, we would never have been able to use the chronolog. But after this is over…we will part ways. The wolves owe no debt to the vampires. We will fight no demons in your name. Now leave me, for I have no wish for your company. I have a hound to kill.”
There were tears in her eyes when she turned away from him, but Lawson hardened his heart, even though the sight of the vicious scar on her chest had given him pause. She was a distraction; he was here to kill Romulus and save Tala; he couldn’t spare a moment to think of Bliss. If she was working with the enemy, then it was better that he had sent her away. If she was who she said she was, an ex-vampire, an archangel’s daughter, then she would still be safe. The hounds would not harm her; he saw that much.
The crowd was restless for the games to begin, but he knew they had some time; only Romulus could signal the opening of the games, and Romulus had not yet returned to the balcony. Lawson planned to find Tala first, then kill the general only after Romulus had given the signal. History must be allowed to flow as it had. At the steps of the Regia, he tried to sniff out Tala’s scent, but the smell of the hounds masked everything else, the stench of their evil filling the air.
The Regia was enormous, easily the largest of the surrounding buildings. Lawson evaded the guards watching the steps and slipped into the main chamber, unsure which of the numerous corridors to follow. Where would Romulus keep Tala? Lawson would have expected that he’d keep her by his side, but he hadn’t seen her on the podium with Romulus when he stood before the crowd. She must be here. But where?
Lawson began exploring the palace. He wandered through room after room on the first floor. The dining room, filled with recliners for royalty to lie on during their meals. No chairs for the elite, not in ancient Rome. Some of the recliners were clearly meant for one person; others were semicircular and could seat a number of people. An interior kitchen, with a fire pit for roasting meat and long tables and serving stands. Bedroom after bedroom, with sleeping couches holding high, fluffy feather beds, covered in blankets and pillows. If Romulus was keeping her by his side, then she’d be in a room closer to Romulus’s chambers, or even in his chambers themselves. The thought twisted his stomach, but he had to keep going.
Corridor after corridor, room after room. Finally, he saw a door that bore the sigil of the republic. Romulus’s quarters. She had to be in there. Tala, where are you?
The bedroom was larger and more elaborate than any he’d seen so far. The bed was enormous, the mattress higher off the ground than any of the others. Lawson sat down and sunk deeply into the plush feather bed. Apparently firm mattresses were a thing of the future, he thought. He tried to picture Tala here, to pick up her scent. Nothing.
He heaved himself off the tall bed and explored the rest of the room. Wooden shelves held togas, spare armor, leather sandals. The togas were lighter and softer than the one he wore, some made of cotton, some of silk. Too bad there weren’t any extra weapons lying around. No sign that a woman had been here; none of the tunics looked like dresses, like the ones Bliss and Ahramin were wearing.
Except…
He turned his head to the corner of the bedroom. There was a pile of what appeared to be laundry sitting in the corner. Funny how some things stayed the same, no matter what century you were in, he thought; people still left their clothes on the floor. But then he looked closer. The clothes appeared to be silk; they glistened as he moved toward them. He picked up the fabric and saw that it was a woman’s tunic, soft to the touch and beautifully cut, as best as he could tell.
And covered in bloodstains.
Lawson felt as if he couldn’t breathe. Tala…where are you? What happened here?
It couldn’t be hers, could it? But it had to be. Romulus had taken no mate, and he’d shown himself to be insistent on doing whatever he could to destroy Lawson, to destroy whatever power he thought Lawson possessed. He didn’t want to think about what Romulus had done to her, about the prospect of never seeing Tala again. It couldn’t be true.
“She’s not here, my boy.”
Lawson turned around to see Romulus standing at the doorway.
Bliss stumbled into the crowd blindly, blinking back tears, not caring where she was going, not knowing what to do, or what to think. She had trusted him to accept her as she was, and he had rejected her. She could still see the hate that had been in his eyes when she’d told him—but what did she expe
ct? Of course he would react that way—her father had cursed his people, turned them into beasts, made them slaves. How could he see past that? She barreled through the crowd, unseeing, until by accident she bumped into Rafe.
“Bliss!” he cried.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” she asked. “Why aren’t you at the oculus?”
“Ahramin sent me to find you. The oculus does not respond. We cannot change the order. She thinks the masters have locked it off somehow, to keep anyone from tampering with it. Where’s Lawson?”
Bliss shook her head. “We don’t need Lawson right now.” Lawson might have dismissed her, but Bliss knew what she had to do. Lawson had sent the wrong person to the oculus. She was of the same blood as the masters, and because she was Lucifer’s daughter, the hounds would follow her every command. Only she could stop the massacre. “Take me to the oculus, quickly.”
The oculus was housed in the great temple of Mars, and when Bliss arrived, Ahramin and the boys had managed to clear the area; the Hellhound guards were dead or subdued, bound with silver chains. There was no time to explain, and Bliss stepped directly into the light of the oculus in the center of the room.
It was like being in the passages; it was all connected, she realized, the oculi, the dark roads, all part of the great network of space and time. Bliss stepped inside the abyss and sent out the message, seeing each hound in the light, their souls as dark stars in the firmament.
You shall not harm the Sabine women but take them as wives. The Dark Prince himself wishes this so.
One by one the light of each hound brightened in response. The message was being received and transmitted to the hive mind.
Bliss hesitated—she realized the oculus could help her in another way. “Show me the Watcher,” she ordered.
The images whirred and flew, and finally she saw her aunt. Jane Murray was wearing a raincoat and walking purposefully through a gray, foggy city. She was alive and unharmed. Bliss called to her through the vortex of space and time.
