Tara (15 page)

“When I finally had the courage to check on her, I heard him from the hall saying he was sorry over and over and over. That scared me more than the screaming, because I couldn’t hear her at all. When I pushed the door open she was on the floor in front of him, and there was blood everywhere. He’d stabbed her, multiple times, and her eyes were open and she was still. I knew instantly that there was no saving her. She was already gone.”

“Alaric, you were twe -” Tara started to talk but he cut her off.

“Story isn’t over. The knife was next to him, and he had his hands on her, maybe he’d tried to stop the bleeding when he’d realized what he’d done. I’m still not sure, everything was coated in it. I didn’t really think about what I was doing, I just picked up the knife… and stabbed him in the neck with it. I stayed and watched him die. I had to know he was dead. Then I washed my hands and I left the house without even calling the police.” Alaric realized his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were completely white except for the cut and the bruises. The image of his mother’s face was burned onto the inside of his eyelids again. It had taken years to not see it every time he closed his eyes, and here he was ripping open the box on those memories and dumping them out.

“Later, when the police found me, I tried to say I wasn’t there, but I’m pretty sure they had my fingerprints. They knew what I’d done, that I had been the one to kill him – and then Luca showed up. My aunt kept Catherine but she’d made it clear she didn’t want me, said I was trouble, she told them to turn me over to the foster system or put me in prison somewhere.”

Alaric shook his head as he remembered the fear of going to prison, and then the first time he’d met Luca in that small meeting room. The man’s quiet eyes, the way he had talked to him like an adult, offered to take him somewhere to be free. To be someone new.

“Luca somehow made it all go away, I never found out how, but he took me in. He pulled all the strings and the police just let me go. I went to live with him after that. He knew I’d done it, and he didn’t care. I didn’t go back to school, I didn’t see Catherine or my aunt. He taught me himself, trained me to work for Infinity Consulting. He made me strong, gave me a life, a life I would have never had otherwise.” Alaric cleared his throat as the debt and loyalty he owed Luca settled on his shoulders.

He couldn’t even turn around to look at Tara. She was in pain from taking a bullet for him, because of men trying to take her and deliver her to some asshole with money.

Just like he was.

If it was possible for Alaric to feel worse after the talk with Claude and his follow-up messages, he did now.

“You know that you wouldn’t have been able to stop him, right? At twelve? Even if you had stopped him that night, even if he hadn’t killed you too, a man like that is going to snap at some point. At least you avenged her.” Tara said it so matter-of-factly that for a moment it rang true and soothed the violent images in his head.

Then the guilt he’d carried around for years returned.

“I still should have answered her. I should have left the room.” Alaric wiped his hands over his face and spoke again before she could, “So, I know what it’s like to be weak when you’re supposed to be strong, and to lose someone because of it.”

“I –” Tara started, but he talked over her.

“Your turn. Who’s Leonidas?”

He heard Tara take a breath like she was going to talk again, and then she let it out slowly. Apparently she had more tact than he did, she was going to drop the painful subject for him.

While he kept pushing on hers.

He really was an asshole.

Chapter Seventeen

Alaric’s confession had been a nice distraction from the burning ache in her stomach. Tara didn’t know how much longer it was until dawn, but she would be grateful when Eltera’s power washed away the pain.

She could see from the tension of his shoulders, the way his back tightened under the shirt, that he wasn’t able to talk about the memories anymore, and she understood why. He blamed himself for his mother’s death, even though his father had been the nightmare.

He had always been a warrior though, even as a child, that was clear.

Tara cleared her throat and tried to ignore the pain in her stomach as her nightmare came back to her. Leonidas had been running with her, physical conditioning was something their
kyrios
had insisted on from everyone – not just his soldiers. The last one to him was always punished. Normally she could outpace all of the men, but she hadn’t eaten in two days and not even Eltera’s power could replace calories completely. Leonidas had purposefully slowed his gait to keep pace with her and they had both suffered for it that day. Just one day among many where he had sacrificed his own well being to help ease her pain. The images in her head threatened to choke her so she shoved them away and started talking.

“Leonidas was someone who meant a lot to me, and I got him killed.”

“You said he died, but who was he?” Alaric was still staring across the large bathroom. He hadn’t even glanced at her since he’d told his story.

“Before I tell you what happened, I have to explain how we even ended up together. We were
déno̱ zév̱gos
. A bound pair.” Tara took a breath as even saying the words in Greek stirred up memories she was always trying to forget. “To the Romans it meant we had to be sold together, they believed the gods themselves had bound us – one to the other.”

“Rome?” Alaric almost turned to look at her in his shock, but he shook his head and stared at the floor. “It gives me a headache to even think of you being alive that long.”

“It’s been a long time. Try not to focus on it.” Tara knew mortals didn’t handle the concept of thousands of years very well. She hadn’t exactly handled it well either and she had
lived
it.

“Alright. So you two were close?” His muscles were relaxing the more she talked. Her story was a good distraction for him too. He probably wouldn’t like it though, it would confirm for him the reality of what she was. No more confusion on his part. It wasn’t all pretty black dresses, beautifully appointed rooms in Italian villas, or furnished secret cells in the basement.

Those had actually been some of the best years of her life.

“No. We had seen each other across the floor of the temple the day we were made a pair. It was our eyes they said the gods chose, both blue, his were like the sky -”

Alaric mumbled under his breath, but she caught what he’d said. “
Your eyes are like water
.”

He straightened up instantly and she knew he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, so she didn’t respond. “Well, they were so unusual where he was from that he was bought from his parents when he was young. He was beautiful - dark curls, golden skin, and they compared his features to the statues of the god Apollo. It was in Apollo’s temple we were bound. We didn’t see each other again until we were sold.” Tara remembered standing naked on the platform as he was led up there, he had barely been eighteen and so they looked about the same age even though at the time she’d been alive about six hundred years. She had expected him to stare at her, but he had simply glanced at her and then stared off into nothingness above the people gathered in front of them.

“We were sold to someone who gifted us to one of the Roman
strategos
, a commander of a field army on one of the many fronts that Constantinople fought. Leonidas was good to his core, despite everything that had happened to him. When we were first presented to the
strategos
and they made us perform, he actually told me he was sorry.” Tara bit back the emotion that surged from the memory.

“Perform?” Alaric turned and finally looked at her, but she leveled a stare at him and she thought he blushed before he turned away again. “Nevermind, I get it. Did he hurt you?” The muscles in his back were tense again, but Tara just sighed.

“He never hurt me unless they made him. We didn’t have choices, Alaric. In that culture we were nothing. As slaves, to them, we could have just as easily been a table, or a plate, or any object. We were not citizens, and therefore we were nothing, and
no
was not a word we were allowed. Whatever
kyrios
wanted, we did, or the consequences were usually much worse.” Tara spoke quietly, partly so she wouldn’t move her stomach too much, and partly because she would prefer Alaric to have an uneducated idea of her past.

“That’s horrible.”

“That’s slavery, and it didn’t end when Rome fell. It’s never stopped.” Tara gritted her teeth, trying to remind herself that it didn’t matter. This was her life, and there was no point in fighting it. “Enough about that though.”

“Tara –” Alaric started but this time Tara cut him off.

“As you said, the story isn’t over.
Kyrios
was violent and had an equal interest in tormenting both Leonidas and I. On any day he would decide to gift us to someone, or have us beaten for the entertainment of his soldiers. And through all of it, Leonidas was so calm. He was tall and strong and could have hurt them, but he didn’t.” Tara’s chest clenched as his voice rang in her head. “He always told me it didn’t matter what they did, we just had to detach and then they couldn’t hurt us.”

There
were the tears.

Her chest burned from the cry she was keeping inside, she felt them rolling too hot down her cheeks and immediately wiped them away, wincing as the movement of her arms pulled at her stomach. Alaric looked slightly panicked at seeing her cry.

“I’m sorry, Tara, I’m sorry I asked. Just forget it.” He tentatively reached out and gripped her arm, trying to reassure her. She just shook her head, shutting the emotions back down.

“I haven’t told anyone about him before, it’s just hard to remember. I’m fine.”
I’m fine
. She pushed away all the raw emotion and did what Leonidas had tried so hard to teach her. She detached. Something she had grown incredibly skilled at in the last fourteen hundred years, and something that if she had been able to do when he was alive – maybe he would have survived.

“You can stop, we can talk about it later.” He squeezed her arm again.

“No. The story is almost over anyway.” Her voice was more even, still tinged with pain, but it was the gunshot wound and not her memories. “There was one day, I still don’t know what we did to make
kyrios
angry, but let’s just say it was bad. For both of us. When we were finally going back to
kyrios’
tent I just broke down.”

Tara’s memories flooded her like she was still standing in the dirt with Leonidas towering above her. Alaric had wanted to know about Leonidas, and she’d probably needed to tell someone for centuries – so she finally did.

“Philos,” Leonidas wrapped his arms around her until she was pressed to his chest and the sobs were quieter. Everything hurt and she was careful with where she put her hands since under his tunic his back was marked by one of the softer leather lashes that would leave painful welts but not break skin. “Philos? Tara, tell me what I can do for you.”

“I can’t do this anymore.” She kept her voice incredibly quiet. If someone were to hear her it would put them both in danger.

“You have to separate from it, you have to detach so you are not there.” Leonidas made it sound so easy, like turning over a bowl and emptying yourself out of your own body. In six hundred years she had never been able to do that. And in less than twenty-two years he had mastered it.

“I can’t. I’ve tried and I can’t. I feel all of it, and there’s been so many years of it. I fear Eltera will never come for me, and the things that happen –”

“I know.” And he did. That was the worst part. He knew everything. They hurt him too, and he was so often with her when they hurt her. Kyrios knew it broke them down to see the other hurt. When they had first been sold they hadn’t known each other at all, but now their bond was real.

A group of soldiers walked by them and made vulgar gestures, and Tara scrubbed her face free of tears, biting her lip to keep from reacting. Leonidas didn’t respond but he let go of her so they could continue towards the tent. Tara was trying to get herself back under control as they moved. Weakness would always be taken advantage of. She spent most of her energy trying to remain stoic and calm. Leonidas did it effortlessly.

“Don’t you want it to end, Leonidas?” His shoulder muscles twitched when she whispered the question, and her eyes moved over the criss-crossed welts peeking out at the top of his broad back.

“That isn’t possible, philos.”

“They can’t hurt us if we’re dead.” The words were barely out of her mouth when he turned and grabbed her arms, his blue eyes wide as he leaned down to her face.

“No, Tara. And you’re immortal, the gods have decreed you cannot die. The discussion is foolish and dangerous –“

“I can be killed. Take off my head and Eltera can’t heal me. I lost sisters that way before.” The tears were flowing again and an ache was in her chest as she looked at the pain on his face.

“Is that what you want?” He spoke so softly, and all Tara could do was nod. He crushed her against him again, his arms wrapping around her, brushing against the burning welts on her own back. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his warm skin threatening to overheat her, but she didn’t try to step away. It was one of the only times she felt somewhat safe. When he held her.

“Then I will do it for you, philos.” Leonidas whispered it into her ear, and her stomach flipped. There was shock that he had agreed, fear of the possibility of death, and excitement at the idea of freedom.

“How?” She spoke against his chest and he squeezed her lightly before stepping back.

“I will take care of it.”

He didn’t say another word about it as they went back to the tent and lay on the floor, curling around each other. Neither could sleep if the other wasn’t there, it meant they weren’t alone. Tara wasn’t sure if the gods of the Romans had ever shown a real interest in her, she belonged to another pantheon completely, but the bond between her and Leonidas was there, whether or not Apollo had actually blessed them.

***

The next day Leonidas spent most of it with kyrios, because as soon as Tara had woken, and healed, kyrios had sent her away so she couldn’t stay and comfort him. That night when she returned, exhausted from carrying water, cleaning the tents of his leaders, and servicing them as they demanded, Leonidas was waiting on their bundle of cloth that formed a crude bed. Beside him, underneath the edge of a carpet he lifted, was an axe.

“Leonidas –” Tara whispered urgently and he instantly covered her mouth, shaking his head.

He pulled her arms around him, and she held him as tightly as she could. They lay down and were mercifully ignored by kyrios as he came back, drank his wine, and collapsed into his bed. An hour of quiet passed and Leonidas sat up, placing a finger to her lips again to remind her to be quiet. Then he took the axe in hand and snuck them out of the tent.

Fear rolled in her belly. If they caught him with the axe the punishment would be horrible. He pulled her away from the camp, down near the river where the moon reflected off the water. They walked further away until there was a flat space of land near the river. It was beautiful, the grass turning silver in the moonlight, the soft sound of water moving by, and with their backs to the camp there was nothing but a sea of grass before them.

“I love you, Tara.” His low voice shook, and his eyes were somewhere near the ground at her feet. In that moment it felt like her heart had broken, cleaved in half in her chest but somehow still moving blood. It was like her ribs were caving in over its absence and tears came to her eyes instantly. Why would he wait to say those words now?

Because there was no more time to say them.

His hand clenched the handle of the axe as it hung by his side, and when Tara moved her arms around his waist, her head tucked just under his chin, she placed a kiss on his chest. “I love you as well, Leonidas.” He didn’t put his arms around her though, he pushed her back by her shoulder.