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and squared his shoulders. “I will return, Lady Julia. This conversation is not finished.”
    A mixture of relief and dread welled up in her as he spun on his heel and strode into the atrium. Both she and Dorcas jumped when the front entry door slammed while Kaj glowered menacingly after the Prefect. Julia gathered her wrap around her shoulders and turned. “Lares- -”
    Kaj stopped her with an outstretched arm. “Sleeps, Mistress, as is his afternoon custom.”
    Relief flowed through her. Fragile since the fever that had taken their mother’s life had sapped the strength from his legs; thirteen year old Lares’ health was not a matter to be taken lightly. She leaned around Kaj’s bulk, saying to her maidservant, “Would you see to him, Dorcas. I’d rest easier knowing he was content.”
    “Of course, Mistress,” answered Dorcas, hurrying toward the sleeping quarters.
    Julia waited the span of a heartbeat before turning to Kaj. “Time has run out. We must push our plan ahead.”
    *****
    Weren’t those damn birds ever quiet?
    Damon stalked to the window, laced his fingers through the grill and stared out at the small flock of wrens hopping around the same small patch of green grass, the same length of stone walkway, the same rose bush he’d stared at every day since his arrival. No wait. There was something different. Two red blooms now graced the bush instead of one.
    He made a disgruntled noise deep in his throat, pushed away from the window, and began to pace the tiny confines of the room. Twelve steps up and twelve steps across, if you discounted the space taken up by the thin pallet he’d slept on this past week.
    It wasn’t the birds’ fault that he was in such a foul mood. Seven days he’d been barred inside this room, his only visitor the giant Kaj who came twice a day with food, glowering at him as though he were Hannibal himself knocking down the gates of Rome. He never said a word, just set the tray down and left. No questions, no instructions, no indication of why Damon was here and mindful of the pirate’s threat to dislodge his tongue, he hadn’t demanded an answer, though his patience was growing thin. He stalked back to the window. It wasn’t natural for him to go this long without talking.
    Jared would have loved it.
    Jared. His friend. His former master. Purchased by Jared’s mother Shifra as a companion for her eleven-year-old son, Damon had served the family for nine years and had seen Jared through the darkest times of his life—the murder of his mother and painful estrangement from his father. Focusing on Jared’s woes had helped Damon keep his own pain buried.
    Their friendship had grown past that of slave and master and four years ago, at the age of twenty-two, Jared had given Damon his freedom.
    They’d gone their separate ways for a time. Damon to find his family and Jared to build a successful merchant empire in Alexandria, an empire he’d almost lost when he’d been betrayed into slavery by his uncle. Damon shook his head. His friend had suffered the harshest type of enslavement and almost died before escaping with the beautiful barbarian seer who’d unwittingly led him to his fate. Damon smirked. A twist of fate that had led Jared and Bryna to fall in love.
    His mind drifted back to his own twist of fate. At least his confinement had given his body time to heal. Gingerly, he stretched his arms above and behind him. There was soreness left from the lashing he’d received, enough bruises and cuts to ensure a fair number of scars, but nothing too serious. He smirked. He would only have to wrestle a giant to the floor, grab the keys to his cell and flee an angry goddess.
    Damon’s lips curved into a smile. Ah yes, the goddess. He couldn’t recall much about the night of his rescue, but he did remember silky hair and a body of enticing curves designed to make a man go hard.
    He threw a bit of crust through the bars, watched with satisfaction as the tiniest wren beat out the