Page 110 of Vesuvius

‘Lorenus is now the heir to both the Lassius and Fortunatus estates, establishing him as the wealthiest man in the Campanian province, but I have the contract under his name. With this in hand, I could make him convince the council to pass the vote to increase Rome’s share of taxes. Neat how this worked out.’

‘So you sent a rider to drag him back. Loren won’t work with you. He—’

Servius tossed the contract to the side. Sheets burst in a scattered flurry. Felix jerked, stunned, as they fluttered to the ground. Celsi, instincts shaped by years of being around unstable councilmen, dropped to his knees, scrambling to shuffle the pages together.

‘Frivolous,’ Servius said. ‘Julia’s flaw has always been her capacity to overthink. I don’t need an estate, nor do I need Pompeii’s vote. Not now. I have the helmet. I have you.’

Felix’s hollow stomach flipped. He cast back to Servius’s words the night they first met.We’ll be partners. Cassius and Brutus of a new age.All at once, he understood what Servius meant to use the helmet for – use the power he believed it granted Felix for. Revenge on Rome for exiling him. Revenge on the empire. The warnings Felix had spent days denying came back in a cold slide.

Dream-walker. Plane-crosser. Holder of restless souls.

Traverser between the living and the dead.

And what a power like that could do in Servius’s hands.

Fighting back swelling panic, Felix forced his mind onto what mattered. Not magic. Not memory.

‘Then why bring Loren back at all?’ he bit out. ‘If you don’t need him, let him go.’

Servius’s smile widened. ‘You misunderstand. This isn’t about Lorenus. This is a lesson foryou. My instructions to Maxim are to dispose of them all. No loose ends.’

‘No loose ends,’ Felix repeated, numb.

‘You said Loren wouldn’t be hurt,’ Celsi piped up, shot with a trill of fear. ‘You promised.’

Promises, promises. Felix snarled, vaulting to fling open the window shutters and reveal the darkening day, the black cloud chewing on the sun. ‘The world is fuckingending.’

‘I have the helmet,’ Servius repeated. ‘I have you.’

As if Felix had the ability to make this stop. Mouth dry, head spinning, he lurched forward, bracing on the desk chair. Teeth gritted, he choked out, ‘When did your rider leave?’

‘Not long ago, so rest assured your boy has a healthy head start. Burdened by the shopgirl and her mother, though, it won’t be long before he catches up. In fact’ – Servius peered out of the window – ‘if my timing is right, it should happen any moment now.’

Felix made a break for it, a mad dash to grab the helmet and race for the door, but Servius issued another bored gesture. In a whirl of limbs and a blow to Felix’s face, Darius put him on his knees, arms yanked back. The helmet rolled away. Gods, Felix was sick of this. Panting, he bared his teeth at Servius, who observed him like one might indulge an amusing pet.

‘You lost,’ Servius said. ‘After all these years playing, the game ends here. Can I give you a bit of advice? Not that you need it, your life is very much mine.’

‘Piss off.’

‘Next time, don’t tell the man holding the chips what you care about. That’s where your father failed, too.’ Servius squatted to twisthis hand sharp in Felix’s curls. ‘Here’s another piece of wisdom I must teach you, same as I did your father – I am not one to fool.’

‘You know fuck all about my father.’

‘Don’t I, Felix? You’re the spitting image of him, and I never forget a face.’ Uncurling his fingers from Felix’s hair, Servius brushed a thumb over his cheekbone. ‘Did Julia neglect to mention why I was exiled from Rome? Your father and I ran in the same smuggling circle. He killed our priest, then double-crossed me. I handed down the orders to kill him. Only by my mercy were the guards called off before they caught you, too.’

‘Stop,’ Felix begged, because it was all he had. ‘Stop.’

Servius straightened, brushing invisible dust from his tunic, as if Felix’s mere proximity had soiled him. To Darius, he said, ‘He’s useless struggling like this. Make him pliant so I can test my theory.’

Darius obliged with far too much enthusiasm. He prised Felix’s jaw open, and the bittersweet tang of poppy sap exploded across his tongue. It hit his system as a trickle, then all at once. Fingers wrapped around his throat, closing his airway. Felix scrabbled for purchase, fighting to stay awake, but the hands of sleep dragged him down, covering his skin and touching all over.

‘That’s enough.’ Servius’s frown came as a blur. ‘I said pliant, Darius, not . . .’

Black swept Felix’s senses, and the last thing he saw was Mercury’s helmet, cast in the corner, a silver trophy for losing again.

Chapter XXIV

LOREN

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