The Lost Centurion (The Immortals Book 1) (22 page)

Tullius bowed and left to execute his orders. Marcus braced for the unpleasantness of what he had to do next. He pushed his helmet up to his forehead, inserted one finger under the unyielding metal, and scratched his itchy scalp. His hair had grown too long again. He made a mental note to ask his barber to shave his head the next morning.

Not wanting to lower his helmet, he shielded his eyes from the sun, and walked toward the auxiliary’s army. “Garonne.”

The Gaul was crouching over a trench. He turned and gave him a disgruntled look from over his shoulder but didn’t stand to salute him.

Marcus inwardly groaned, then marched toward him and hauled the huge redheaded barbarian to his feet, then shoved him down the trench. Fueled by anger, it didn’t take long for the man to stand again. Garonne was taller than Marcus by several inches, and he looked stronger too.

“You’ll show respect to your commander.” Marcus drew his spatha and pressed it against the man’s throat. The point of the sword nicked his skin and a rivulet of blood fell down to his Adam’s apple.

“I’ll never obey an effeminate.” Garonne reached for a small pugio Marcus hadn’t seen the man wearing.

Before Marcus could react, the Gaul had reached for his face. The small dagger’s blade was sharper than it looked because it took a moment for the pain to arrive, but when it did, it blinded Marcus. Garonne kept slashing at him, and by the time Marcus’s centurions had made it back to help him, he was lying in a pool of his own blood. He was taken to the camp physician who, upon laying eyes on him, declared the long gash cutting his face from his left eyebrow to his cheek would require more than thirty stitches. The physician also whispered to Tullius that Marcus would probably pass away before the night was up—the wound to his stomach was fatal, so he wasn’t going to inflict more pain than necessary. Marcus heard every word and smiled.

One by one, all his centurions came to give Marcus their last salute. Just before dawn, he was ready to be reunited in Hades with Aurelia. His senses were already dulled by the sweet wine he had been served the whole night. He knew Tullius had spiked the beverage with strong opiates because once he had started drinking it, the stabbing pain in his abdomen had dimmed to no more than a sting. He closed his eyes for a moment and heard his aid ushering everybody out of the tent.

Finally alone, Marcus called Aurelia to come and pick him up.

“You aren’t ready.” A male voice boomed inside his skull.

Marcus was terrified.

“You’ll serve me.”

A bright light exploded before his eyes.

“Open your eyes and accept my gift.” The voice sounded louder, closer, inside of him.

Marcus opened his eyes and stared into white pupils. He screamed.

Golden wings fluttered and objects were scattered all around the tent. “I am your god, Apollo. I chose you to be my loyal servant for eternity.”

Marcus tried to unlock his eyes from the white orbs, but he couldn’t move. Warm breeze caressed his face and he was given permission to blink. An invisible, spidery net fell on him and left him breathless. His skin tingled as if brushed by hundreds of feathers, enhancing his senses. Unbearable physical pleasure mixed with heightened fear as his body arched and light shot from his extremities. For a moment, Marcus was filled with the deity’s essence and he was one with creation. He lived the lives of many who had come before him in his paternal lineage. He was the sun in his eternal voyage. The sensation was soon gone and he felt spent and alone.

You are now reborn. Immortal. Apollo’s words echoed inside Marcus’s mind.

The wind ceased to play havoc inside the tent, and the bright light disappeared.

Marcus woke from the nightmare, his heart racing.

“Dux!” Tullius entered the tent and ran to his side. “What happened? Are you…?”

Several soldiers had followed the aid and they were all staring at Marcus.

“You are okay.” Tullius stepped closer to him, his eyes traveling up and down Marcus’s body, lingering at his stomach then up again to his face.

Marcus blinked, unnerved by the strange looks his men were exchanging. He stared back and some of them lowered their eyes. But not all of them. One kept staring.

“Dux?” Tullius waved one hand before him.

“What is it?” Marcus snapped back. He felt different. His skin was itchy, and he passed a hand over the wound on his face. Absentmindedly, his fingers followed the ridge of hard skin that crossed his left eyebrow. He tried to look past Tullius, but the man’s huge bulk covered the rest of the tent from him.

“You look okay.”

“You just said that. Twice.” Marcus reached out one hand and pushed Tullius by the side. “Who’s the new recruit?”

Tullius’s hesitation in answering him angered Marcus even more.

“The one standing behind you.” Marcus sat on the bed and shoved his aid out of the way with a thrust that surprised both Tullius and himself for the unexpected strength.

Tullius ended legs up in the corner, a stunned expression on his face, his mouth hanging open.

“Where is he?” Marcus was on his feet and towered over his men now crowding the small exit.

“Who?” Tullius scrambled to his side, then stood on visibly shaking legs.

“There was a soldier with dark hair and a pale complexion, gray eyes, tall… He was here until a moment ago. I haven’t met him before.” Marcus prided himself to personally know his men by name.

Tullius frowned then looked to the side, as if unable to bear Marcus’s sight. “Maybe he was one of the physician’s servants?”

His men parted as Marcus stormed out of the tent, only to be stopped by the doctor who ordered him back inside
.

“Enjoy the trip down memory lane?” Claudius’s voice resonated in the small cell.

Marcus focused on the present moment, his mind processing the truth. He crossed his arms hugging his chest, his hands gripping his upper arms through the shirtsleeves drenched in sweat. “It was you.”

Claudius bowed with a flourish of his right hand. “You’re welcome.”

“I had forgotten about that man. You.”

“I admit showing up at the tent wasn’t clever, but I had to see for myself that my summoning had worked.” Claudius walked back to the opposite wall and leaned against it, hands in his pockets.

Marcus bit his lower lip and shook his head. “How did you manage to have a god do your bidding?”

Claudius gave him a look as if debating answering or not, then his lips thinned in a hard line. “Gods are predictable. Apollo owed me a favor for services received that he didn’t want the rest of the Olympians to know about.”

“Such as?”

“He’s always had a penchant for unavailable women, and once or twice he went too far in his pursuing. I acted as a mediator between the parties.”

Marcus couldn’t help but shiver. “You made the complaining party disappear for him.” He was tired of Claudius’s game. “You’ve always had the power to destroy me. Why haven’t you? I’m a renegade. Nobody would’ve cared. The Council wouldn’t have cared.”

Claudius canted his head. “I already told you. Your death wouldn’t have brought Aurelia back, but your eternal suffering has pleased me greatly. And I also liked the idea of having the full permission of the Council to dispose of you. Call it poetic justice.”

The vampire moved to leave, but Marcus wasn’t done with the questions. “Why didn’t you give Virgil permission to change Diana?”

Claudius straightened his stance. “Nobody in my nest has permission to turn a dying person. I wasn’t given permission to save Aurelia. Nobody else will.”

Marcus had expected some farfetched reason, but the man’s answer still had the power to hit him in the guts.

Claudius pushed himself off the wall, then called the vampires who had waited for him out of sight. “I want him washed for the ceremony.”

“What ceremony?” Marcus was hauled up by the two men.

“The one taking place tonight. I’ll ascend a vestal to the role of my new bride. No human has ever been allowed to attend to an inner circle ritual. I think you’ll find it interesting.”

****

Under Laura’s scrutiny, Diana was scrubbed until her skin shone pink, then she was massaged by two women who barely exchanged a word between them. When she had thought the ordeal was ending, an older woman had entered the massage room in the baths, carrying a wooden box. Once opened, the box revealed a great variety of small glass vials.

“She is the one ascending tonight?” The older woman gave Diana an assessing look.

She was lying on the massage table completely naked and felt exposed. “What is she talking about? Ascending to what?”

Laura grunted a “yes” to the older woman and glowered at her.

Diana hugged her chest and rolled to the side, her knees up. The older woman selected several vials from the box, then proceeded to move Diana around to position her with her back on the mattress and her legs and arms wide open.

The woman slapped Diana’s right hand in place when she moved. “Don’t worry. You’ll smell pretty for your first night.”

“What are you talking about?” Diana asked directly to the woman, who raised an eyebrow and looked at the girl in response.

Laura shook her head at the old woman, then turned her angry stare at Diana. “Sire will ascend you as his new bride tonight. It’s an honor not everybody experiences in a lifetime.”

“I won’t—”

The door opened and Claudius entered and kept it open with his hand. Laura and the older woman bowed and exited.

“I won’t be your bride.” Diana grabbed the terry cloth robe from the back of the chair by the massage table and covered herself.

“I should be offended by your rejection, but your stupidity entertains me to no end.” Claudius circled the massage table, then took the chair by the wall, dragged it closer to the table, and sat. “As if you have a choice.” He relaxed against the backrest, crossed his legs at the ankles, and folded his hands behind his head. “One touch and you’ll beg me to take you right here right now.” He didn’t move and kept his eyes on hers.

Diana refused to cower and lower her face. Instead, she raised her chin and stared back at him. “You can only force my body to respond to your commands.”

“The more you struggle, the more I will take later on.” A cold light flickered in his eyes.

Diana shivered, wondering if he could influence her without physical contact. “I’ll find a way to break free from you.”

“Only your death will tear us apart.” He smiled and lowered his hands to his chest for a loose hug.

“So be it then.” Diana had already thought about it. She couldn’t live beneath the vampire and she wouldn’t survive outside the nest.

“I already told you I am the one who decides your fate.”

You aren’t always around and wood isn’t hard to come by.
A smile tugged at her lips, but she immediately composed her face to a neutral expression.

“I am here not to discuss nest laws, but to explain to you why you’ll play the happy bride before our guests tonight.”

“I already—”

Claudius leaned toward her and reached for her exposed leg. He touched her calf. “You’ve talked enough. Now listen carefully.”

Diana was paralyzed once again. She cried inside, but no tears left her dry eyes.

“As I was saying before you interrupted, you’ll become my bride in a public ceremony later tonight. For reasons that will become clear, I need you to willingly participate. Last time, it was a dry run of sorts to see how things would play. Tonight is the main show.”

Dozens of questions went through Diana’s mind, but Claudius kept his mental hold on her tight.

“It is in Marcus’s best interest that you obey me.” He smiled at her and patted her leg in a paternal gesture. “I’ll free you now.”

Diana felt the mental cage lift and she was able to command her body again. She breathed deeply in and out. “Will you spare his life?”

“Of course not.” He stood and looked down at her. “I thought you were smart.” He turned the chair and rested both hands on its backrest.

“Why would I want to cooperate?” Diana was grateful he had moved slightly away from her. The vampire’s mere presence made her feel sick to her stomach. “There’s nothing I want if Marcus dies.”

Claudius’s hands left the chair, and she automatically moved to the other end of the table, fearing his touch.

“I don’t need to touch you to make you obey.” He walked a step closer to the table. “And that excites me. There are very few things that have the power to excite me nowadays.”

His eyes locked with hers, and Diana automatically clutched the lapels of her robe against her chest.

He sat on the edge of the table, his fingers traveling on the mattress toward the hem of her robe. “And for your information, there’s always something you want. You just don’t know it yet.”

She started shaking her head, but his fingers climbed inside the robe and he caressed her thigh.

“I won’t remove your free will, but you must listen like a good girl.” He circled her leg with light fingers and pressed his palm against the inside of her thigh.

Diana hurried to nod, wanting more than anything for him to stop talking and leave her alone.

“Marcus is going to die, but it’s up to you how. I can give him a swift and merciful death.” His fingers started wandering higher.

Diana’s eyes filled with tears.

“Or I can torture him for months.” He stopped his hand just below her bikini line. “What are you willing to do to spare him such pain?” He pinched her skin and laughed when she cried.

“Whatever it takes.” Diana lowered her eyes, unable to look at him any longer.

Claudius patted her leg. “What I wanted to hear.” He closed the lapels of her robe and leaned away from her, but didn’t leave as she had hoped. Instead, he explained at length what was expected of her. “Is everything clear?”

Diana was trying and failing to accept her orders, but shakily nodded.

He put a finger under her chin. “My innocent vestal bride. Corrupting you is worth delaying your centurion’s death.” As a parting gift, he bent over her and brushed her lips with his.