Page 17 of Vesuvius

‘Yes, this is what he nearly killed me over. Don’t you know? These shoes are magic.’

‘Piss off.’ Loren was suddenly glad for the veils. He couldn’t stomach watching Felix’s mouth curl into a smirk.

Felix led him across the city, zigzagging streets, until they wound up behind a row of shops in the heart of the city, a dingy place populated by barrels and stacked crates.

‘Stay here.’ Felix ducked away. Moments later, he emerged, clutching a bundle wrapped in his headscarf.

‘Your hair.’ Loren glanced around, as if a soldier might be squatting behind a crate.

‘Rather they see that than this. Do you have somewhere we can go? Not the temple. Somewhere private.’

Loren cringed. He’d reckoned Felix would learn sooner or later where he lived. But he’d rather banked on later. Still, he nodded. ‘I have a place.’

Hand against peeling wood, Loren hesitated. They stood at the back of a building he knew all too well. He sensed Felix would recognise the type, too, the moment they stepped inside.

‘You can’t laugh,’ Loren warned.

‘Is it funny?’

‘Not to me.’

‘Then I won’t,’ Felix promised.

Regardless, Loren took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

It swung to reveal a dim corridor, and Loren beckoned in Felix, who paused, scanning the place. Cubicles sectioned by curtains, explicit paintings above the booths, and the pervasive smell of musk and sweat – Loren knew what Felix must be piecing together in his head.

‘Upstairs.’ Loren beelined for the staircase.

Too late. One of the curtains rustled open and Elias slunk out. Hooded eyes half closed, he blinked at Felix sleepily, his oversized tunic dipping off one shoulder.

Elias broke into a grin. ‘Hello there. Can I call you Fox? You look like one.’

Felix met him with a frown.

‘Wanting something in particular?’ Elias yawned. Then he noticed Loren, and his mouth slid into a pout. ‘Oh. He yours?’

‘No,’ Loren insisted. ‘He’s a friend.’

‘I’m insulted.’ The pout deepened. Elias stretched his arms high, tunic riding up his thighs, and propped a hip against the doorframe of his cubicle. ‘Here I thought I was your only friend.’

Hardly. These days, Loren didn’t know what he and Elias were. Once upon a time, watching his skin stretch would’ve made Loren blush. It was only natural. The two were near the same age, living inproximity, and Elias had been so sweet that Loren dared hope . . . But Elias caught on and wasted no time constructing boundaries: he was off-limits. Until the day came when Elias bought his freedom, he would grow no roots in Pompeii.

Cut off from the source, Loren’s feelings had died an abrupt, pitiful death.

The awkwardness, however, lingered.

‘Elias, this is Felix. He’s staying for . . . a while.’ Loren forced his voice to loosen. ‘I’m keeping him out of trouble.’

From the way Felix’s arms tensed around his cloth-covered bundle, Loren guessed his phrasing was bad, but he had no time to correct himself before Elias smirked.

‘Keeping him,’ Elias repeated, dripping with implication. ‘Then I’ll do my best not tobethe trouble.’

Loren’s face flamed.

This time, he succeeded in ushering Felix away. They rushed upstairs, pausing only long enough for Loren to shove Felix through his door and shut it behind them.

Felix sniggered. ‘You live in a lupanar.’

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