Page 116 of Firebird
She hugged me tighter but asked, “Why would I have to leave if all goes well?”
She didn’t know that I planned to kill Ciprian ahead of schedule, before my uncle and the others.
“There will be unrest after Ciprian is dead. No one should suspect me, but if they do, I don’t want Caesar to target you to hurt me.” I pressed her closer. “It would kill me, firebird.”
She pressed a kiss to my chest. Even through my tunic, I felt the warmth of her mouth and affection. Then she gazed up at me, holding my heart in that look.
“I know the story of the firebird now.”
“Do you? Who told you the tale?”
“Rhea.” She nodded toward the doorway. “My friend.” She tilted her head teasingly. “But I don’t know if that’s the right name for me. I’m not a golden dragon, Julian. Nor can I fly through the air and set men on fire.”
“You think not?”
She laughed. “You know I can’t.”
“I know nothing of the sort.” I cupped her face and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth. “Since that moment I saw you, flying across that stage, you have been burning inside me ever since. My entire soul is on fire for you, Malina.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “And always will be.”
“Malina,”hissed the girl Rhea from outside. “We must gonow.”
Malina pressed one last kiss to my lips and tore from my arms. I felt the pain bodily, like something died inside me as I watched her leave. I couldn’t keep from following.
I trailed at a distance, following her and the other slave girl out of the temple and into the rain-drenched streets. I followed as they met a large slave wearing Ciprian’s collar, weaving through the sparse crowd of the Aventine. If anyone thought it strange for a Roman patrician to walk their streets, they made no note of it. None even seemed to recognize me as the famous Coldhearted Conqueror.
Perhaps because I didn’t look much like him, slinking through thestreets, trying to catch just one last glimpse of the black-haired beauty who owned my very soul. Stricken with the despair of her disappearing around a corner, I realized that there was nothing cold inside me now.
A furnace burned in the deep, darkest recesses of my being. In that place where my dragon slept and watched and waited, a fire had kindled when Malina had given me her love. Only taking her back to a lair where I could keep her safe would abate the beast. If she was hurt before I could I free her, I’d set the world on fire and gladly watch it burn.
XXXIV
MALINA
The house had been quiet upon our return. The cook whose name I still didn’t know, nor did I care to know since I didn’t plan on being here much longer, put us to work washing and cutting vegetables for the master’s dinner.
There was a hubbub of noise when Ciprian returned home with his slaves, the bearded one and the others who’d attacked me that one day on the streets. They’d sequestered themselves in one of the parlors, then I heard Ciprian shouting orders for a bath and his dinner right after, but I kept away in the kitchens. As far away as I could.
I’d washed and changed my own tunic, afraid that he would somehow know I’d been with Julian. Rhea had been summoned to serve him dinner, but not me. I was both afraid for her and relieved for myself. While I was confident that I could tether him again and put him to sleep if necessary, that nightmare I’d had last night still lingered. A single thread of foreboding had followed me all day, especially after I’d left Julian’s arms.
I waited in my bedchamber for Rhea to return when the bearded slave stepped into the open doorway. “Dominus commands you to come.”
Stricken with alarm, I didn’t show an ounce of it. I stood and followed him into the same dining hall where I’d made Ciprian spill his guts last night.
I paused when I first entered the room. It wasn’t the fact that my attackers stood about the room or that Rhea was absent. It was the undeniably smug expression on Ciprian’s face and the cloying sense of dread tapping on my magic.
His eyes weren’t brown as usual. They glowed red with his dragon, which meant something had stirred his beast to the forefront. Something that excited him from that gleeful expression on his face. His bruises were already fading and he wore no bandages, his sutures visible. He didn’t seem bothered at all by his injuries.
“Have a seat with me, Malina.” He drew my name out in a long, sickening breath.
“I prefer to stand. What is it you need, dominus?”
“You will sit,” he ordered with a hint of aggression, but that eerie smile remained.
So I sat upon the cushion opposite where he reclined on his chaise, his goblet of wine in hand, a platter of roasted meat and turnips I’d chopped today spread out before him.
“Eat.” He gestured toward the platter.
I didn’t want to raise his ire and refuse, so I picked up a cold turnipand nibbled, the bite cold as it went down. He seemed content that I obeyed, watching me over the rim of his wine goblet.
