Secrets of New Pompeii Read online

  “This is a special treat, ladies and gentlemen,” Mikko’s sharp voice drew her attention to a stage in the far corner of the room. Hurrying away from the living tableau, she wove her way toward the small stage. “Wrestling pits are dark and dangerous, and onlookers miss so much when they can only see the action from above. This match is guaranteed to be different. House Olla has issued a challenge to House Zyell and we have accepted. The two men you are about to see are both proven champions.” He raised his arm in a dramatic signal for the wrestlers to enter.

  Dario, the newly defeated champion of New Pompeii, looked as deadly as ever with his spiky black hair and obsidian eyes. Was it insulting for a gladiator to wrestle? Wrestling tested strength and agility and the determination to overcome. All similar qualities to what was required for success in the arena. Of course the only weapon he would be allowed was his body, and he’d thrust with a different kind of sword.

  The thought drew her eyes downward from his menacing features. His body hair had been removed and his skin oiled until every ripple and bulge stood out in striking prominence. His cock had begun to rise, a formidable weapon indeed. He rolled his shoulders and flexed his arms as he waited for his opponent.

  “The representative of House Xyell has not fought publicly for quite some time, so this is a rare treat. After retiring undefeated from both the arena and the pits, he became my doctore. He has produced more champions than the other trainers combined, and he has served me with loyalty and honor.”

  Naloni tensed, her heart hammering in her breast. Why would Max… It couldn’t be. But Bertrom had warned her that Max would be here, that their lives were about to reconnect.

  “House Xyell is proud to present Patricius Maximus, our undefeated champion!” The crowd roared, some shouting encouragements to Dario, others in support of Max.

  Max entered from the other side of the room, his stride purposeful, head held high. He was lean, sleek, each muscle sharply defined. Whatever they’d used to slick back his hair made it look more black than brown. The severe style accentuated his fierce features and the unexpected beauty of his light blue eyes.

  “Wow,” the woman next to her muttered. “I wonder if they’ll be available upstairs after the fight.”

  Naloni’s hands clenched and she turned to berate the woman but realized the woman had been talking to her male companion.

  “I’ll find out, darling,” the man assured. “I would love to watch you ‘wrestle’ with one or the other, or were you thinking both?”

  Needing to be away from their disquieting speculation, Naloni eased between two tittering women and maneuvered her way closer to the stage. She didn’t want to think about Max with other women. She didn’t want to think about Max. But here he was in all his savage glory, even more captivating than he’d been in her dreams.

  “This is a full-contact bout. No mercy will be given. One or the other must be pinned before the winner will be declared,” Mikko explained.

  Naloni’s gaze gravitated toward Max’s groin. He wasn’t even hard yet. How did he expect to pin Dario if he couldn’t get an erection? She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and crossed her arms over her chest.

  Her gaze slowly worked its way back up his body and found his crystal blue gaze staring back at her. She took an automatic step back, but the person behind her pushed her forward again. There were two rows of people between her and the stage. Was Max really looking at her? Did he recognize her in this ridiculous wig?

  Did he even remember her after all these years?

  Max fought back the urge to jump off the stage and rip the wig off Naloni’s head. The elaborate style distracted from the purity of her features, but nothing could deter from her clear hazel eyes. So bright and open for someone so conniving. She obviously hadn’t changed much. She still loved disguises and pretending she was someone other than the emperor’s daughter.

  Memories bombarded his mind, unwanted and dangerously distracting. He could not think about her right now. He would not! His chin shot up and he raised his gaze, looking out over the heads of the onlookers. Mikko was still babbling. Would the man never cease and let them begin?

  Finally Mikko grabbed their arms and forced them to face each other. “You both know the rules. Any part of your body touches the floor and you’re disqualified. I’m sure neither of you wants to win that way, so keep it on the stage. There are no time limits and no breaks. You wrestle until one of you is pinned.” He looked down at Max’s cock and shook his head. “Do you need a nice warm mouth to harden that up? I’m sure any one of these ladies would be happy to oblige.”

  “My cock has never failed to rise, sir. There is no reason for concern.”

  Dario smirked and thrust his hips forward, causing his erection to bob.

  “Begin!” Mikko leapt off the stage as the combatants charged.

  The oil made it harder than hell to grasp Dario. Max’s hands slid down his arms and across his back without ever finding purchase. Luckily, Dario was having the same problem. Their shoulders smacked against each other and Dario wrapped his arms around Max’s back.

  “I make my move tonight. Are you with me?” Dario’s harsh, urgent whisper sounded in Max’s ear.

  They repositioned, arms sliding as they slowly circled. “What move?”

  Dario lodged his shoulder into Max’s armpit and tightly clasped his arm. With surprising ease, he bent his knees and flipped Max up and over his body, slamming him down on the stage with a resounding bang.

  The breath whooshed out of Max and spots of light burst behind his eyes. After one moment of shocked immobility, he grappled for some sort of hold, twisting and thrashing to prevent Dario from controlling him.

  He forced his legs beneath him and lifted Dario while angling sharply to the side. Dario slid off and landed on his side, Max lunged for him, forcing Dario over as he landed sideways across his body.

  “They will listen. They will have no choice,” Dario went on in a hoarse whisper.

  “You’ll get yourself killed,” Max hissed in return.

  “No. Trust me. This is foolproof.”

  Only a fool ever believed anything was foolproof. “Is this why you challenged me?”

  “Yes.” Though softly spoken, the word rang with impatience and significance. They continued to wrestle, each skillful enough to evade the other’s moves. “Are you with me or not?”

  “What are you planning?” Max had Dario beneath him now, legs bent, in the perfect position to pin him.

  “No time! Make it look like you’re going to pin me then shove me forward hard.”

  Understanding the maneuver, and cursing himself for a fool, Max made his decision. “All right.” He pulled Dario’s hips up and reached between them as if to position his cock. Then he shoved Dario toward the corner of the stage and the armed guard stationed there.

  Max leaped to his feet and whirled on the other guard, grabbing his sword and slamming the flat of the blade against the side of the guard’s head. The guard moaned and swayed. Max raised the weapon to strike again, but the guard collapsed into a messy heap as the onlookers watched in wonder.

  “Seize them!” Mikko’s command sent a wave of fear through the stunned audience. Apparently they couldn’t decide if this was part of the show. Those closest to the exits didn’t wait to find out, but the crush of bodies had many people trapped.

  Dario shoved his way to Naloni and grasped her from behind, pressing the guard’s sword against her throat. “Back off or she dies!” Dario shouted. She was no random hostage. Dario had run directly to her.

  “Kill her!” Mikko yelled. “Kill them both.”

  “Ask Tarhee first!” The confidence in Dario’s voice slowed the response of the advancing guards.

  Infuriated yet trapped by his decision, Max positioned himself at Dario’s back. Guards rushed toward them from all over the villa, some brandishing pulse pistols. “Now what?” Max whispered.

  “Call out to your brother,” Dario told Naloni.
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  “Fuck you,” she whispered in return.

  “This is Princess Naloni!” Dario took a cautious step forward and Max matched his movement. “Harming her sentences you to death.”

  “Which means you’re a dead man already!” Max couldn’t see Prince Tarhee, but his voice rang out over the thinning crowd. “Naloni, is that really you?”

  Silence.

  “Max, take off her fucking wig. She’s our ticket out of here.”

  Rather than voice all of his concerns with Dario’s plan, Max moved in front of them and quickly found the pins anchoring the wig to her head. She glared at him in mutinous silence, so he focused on the task and avoided her gaze.

  Movement blurred his peripheral vision. Max spun and brought his sword arm up, smacking the guard’s forearm with the flat of the blade. His pulse pistol discharged into the ceiling and screams echoed through the room. He swept the guard’s legs out from under him and stomped on his wrist. The guard cried out, but his hand released and Max snatched up the fallen man’s weapon.

  When he returned his attention to Dario, he found the wig on the floor at Naloni’s feet. He wasn’t sure if she had finally given in and removed it or if Dario had managed to finish the task. With the pistol in one hand and a sword in the other, Max returned to his position at Dario’s back.

  “Hold your fire!” Tarhee called. “They have nowhere to run.”

  A fact that was utmost in Max’s mind. How did Dario expect to force the emperor to do his bidding when he had no way to contact him? The only people who had access to technology were the Fedorans. Mikko and Tarhee would assure their guests that there was nothing to worry about, perhaps even hint that anyone who needlessly worried the emperor with this unfortunate incident would no longer be welcome in New Pompeii.

  Didn’t Dario realize the power the founders had over their customers? If a customer acted against the wishes of the founders, they risked exposure or being ostracized. And these people were addicted to these pleasures as surely as any drug addict craved their next fix.

  Dario ducked into an alley, dragging Naloni along behind him. Max listened carefully for sounds of pursuit as he followed in their wake.

  “Tarhee is right. My father will kill you for this.” Her voice cut through the darkness and she tugged and twisted against Dario’s hold.

  “Be quiet or I will gag you.”

  Max scoffed. “Better gag her now. She’ll fight you every step of the way.”

  “You’re both naked! Do you honestly think no one will question two naked men dragging around a bound and gagged woman?”

  Dario didn’t respond to either of their criticisms. Keeping to the alleyways, he wended his way toward the less-exclusive part of the city. They reached a nondescript corner and Dario shoved Naloni toward Max.

  “Stay here and keep her quiet. I’ll be right back.” Without further explanation he darted around the corner and disappeared into the night.

  Needing one of his hands to control her and having no way of keeping either of the weapons on his person, he tossed the sword into the darkness and used the pistol to back her against the wall. She stood there, head tilted, eyes narrowed to gleaming greenish-brown slits.

  Did she remember him or had he been one of many Princess Naloni rewarded with her supple body? Even if he’d not been her last, he’d been her first! No one could take that away from him.

  “This is ridiculous.” Her tone was composed and cold, so very…royal. “You must let me go before your partner returns or you’ll both pay for this stupidity with your lives.”

  “Is that so?” He moved closer, unable to resist the tangible pull of her innate sensuality. He didn’t think it was possible for any woman to be more beautiful than his memories of Naloni, but time had sculpted her features with maturity and grace. Where she had once been pretty and sweetly innocent, she now possessed an exotic beauty both rare and stunning. “If we’re both destined to die, why not enjoy our captive to the fullest? You’ve presumed this is about escape. Perhaps we just want a taste of royal pussy.”

  She gasped and shrank back against the wall. “That’s a horrible thing to say.” Her gaze softened and her lips trembled. He wasn’t sure if her distress was real or cleverly acted, but it was effective. “Why are you being so crass? Have you changed that much since I saw you last? You were dominating and unpolished, but you were never a bully.”

  So she did remember him. His body stirred at the memory of all they’d shared, and he thanked the Benevolent Maker for the darkness. “Everyone changes, Vanda. You miraculously morphed from a breeding slave into a royal princess. I’m pretty sure my crassness can’t hold a candle to that!”

  Dario returned, postponing her reply. He was dressed in a short tunic and leather sandals, and he tossed Max a bundle containing similar garb. Perhaps more planning had gone into this strategy than Max originally thought. While Max wiped the oil from his skin and dressed, Dario bound Naloni’s hands behind her back and draped a wide palla around her shoulders and over her head, creating a hood that cast her face into shadow. Then he lowered the hood and held up a length of cloth, obviously intending to gag her.

  “That’s not necessary,” she said calmly. “Max has a pistol. Do you really think I’ll risk my life by drawing attention to us?”

  “Absolutely,” Max countered. “She’ll die before she willingly cooperates. You have no idea how stubborn she can be.”

  “And you do?” Dario challenged as he tied the gag behind her head. “You keep offering advice as if you know her.”

  “Our paths crossed before,” Max admitted. “A very long time ago.”

  Dario looked intrigued. “Now there is a story I’m anxious to hear, but we’ve a long way to go before it’s safe enough for conversation.”

  “There is nowhere in the city where we’ll be safe,” Max finally pointed out.

  “Which is why I’m taking you beyond the barrier.” Dario offered no more information. He pulled Naloni’s hood back into place and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Let’s go.”

  Having burned his bridges behind him, Max followed Dario into the unknown.

  * * * * *

  The door burst open to Emperor Sineth Olla’s private dining room, causing his attendants to jump. Sineth tossed the piece of succulent larinta fish in his mouth and glared at the intruder. “What the hell is wrong with you, Firdose? You know I hate interruptions when I’m eating.”

  “This is important, Your Majesty, or I would not have bothered you.”

  Not only had Firdose entered without knocking, he rushed across the room without waiting for permission. Something must be very wrong. Nothing rattled Firdose. Sineth set down his fork and swiped his mouth with his napkin. “What’s going on?”

  The chancellor moved to the companel and activated a global news feed. The image materialized on the standard viewscreen until Firdose switched it to holo-mode and transferred the broadcast to the tabletop reflector.

  “One of the chamber maids brought this to my attention,” Firdose told him in a tight, agitated tone. “As close as I can figure, this happened less than an hour ago.”

  In shocked horror, Sineth watched as two naked wrestlers jumped from a small stage and terrorized the onlookers. He was about to ask Firdose why he should care about a disturbance in New Pompeii, when the black-haired wrestler grabbed a young woman and placed his sword against her throat.

  Sineth’s heart lodged solidly in his throat and he leaned closer to the silent image. “Is that… Please tell me that’s not Naloni.” As if in response to his deepest fear, the accomplice attempted to remove her wig. His efforts were interrupted by a charging guard, so the brigand holding her finished the job. “Is this some perverted joke? Why has no one reported my daughter’s abduction? Where the fuck is Tarhee!”

  “I pinged his comstation the moment I saw the feed,” Firdose assured him. “But audiocoms are forbidden inside the barrier. All we can do is wait until he responds.”

  “I
wait for no one, not even my son,” he shouted. “This is outrageous!”

  The vid began to loop, so Firdose deactivated the channel. “I’ll try again, Your Majesty. One moment please.” With shaking hands the chancellor paged the prince and then paged him again.

  “I’m a little busy right now,” Tarhee snapped a moment later.

  “Activate video, you worthless piece of shit!” Sineth stomped across the room and shouldered Firdose aside. “Where the fuck is your sister?”

  The vidscreen flickered and then an image of Tarhee’s pale face materialized. “Hello, Father.”

  “Don’t play coy with me! I’ve seen the news feed.”

  Tarhee’s eyes rounded and he said something to whoever was just off screen. “I was unaware there was a news feed. We are scouring the city for her even as we speak. She was taken by a couple of malcontents. They could not have gone far.”

  “I saw those ‘malcontents’. They were armed gladiators. Am I wrong?”

  “No sir,” Tarhee admitted. “But I don’t believe they’ll hurt her.”

  “Why the fuck not?” Sineth shook his head, unable to believe any son of his could be so naive.

  “It was not a spontaneous act. She was intentionally targeted.”

  “I am well aware of the situation. I watched it happen. They will demand some sort of ransom. Of that I have no doubt, but why would you presume she’s safe until negotiations are concluded? They could pass her back and forth until—” His voice broke and he clenched his fists, infuriated by his loss of control. “She must be found as soon as possible.”

  “Everything that can be done is being done.” The assurance sounded hollow and Tarhee’s terrified expression hinted at his doubts.