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The Roman(3)

By:Sylvain Reynard


The soldier laughed. “Kevlar. We’re wearing vests.”

Raven grabbed his shirt over the vest, pulling it taut against the front of his body. “Touch me again and you’ll answer to the Curia.”

Her words were enough to halt the vampyre. His chest erupted in a growl. “What did you say?”

“You heard me. When we get to Rome, the Curia will want to know how I was treated. And I’ll tell them.”

“You’re just a human,” he spat. “You need to learn your place.”

“So do you. The Curia has sworn to eliminate you and the others. Do you really want to give them another reason to kill you?”

The soldier didn’t move. It was as if the wheels of his mind were turning, measuring her words.

“Be smart,” she continued, releasing his shirt. “Keep me and my sister safe, and you’ll be rewarded.”

“A reward from the Curia is worth nothing,” he snarled.

Before Raven could respond, footsteps approached.

“You there,” a deep voice barked. “Keep running.”

“Yes, commander.” The soldier took off at high speed.

Raven noted with satisfaction that he now held her closely but cautiously. Her threat had worked.

She had a piercing headache and was nauseated after bouncing on the soldier’s shoulder for hours. The landscape was still bathed in blackness. She was fairly sure sunrise was approaching, but she had no idea of the time. She wasn’t wearing a watch, and her cell phone was tucked into a pocket. The soldier hadn’t seemed to notice it.#p#分页标题#e#

She still wore the gold bracelet William had given her some months ago. It signified their connection. But the soldier hadn’t seemed to notice it, either.

She called out to her sister, earning a command of “Silence.” She defied the soldier twice, but Cara didn’t respond. She must still be unconscious.

Cara’s current state was Raven’s fault. She’d failed to protect her from their stepfather when they were children. She’d failed to protect Cara when a vampyre attacked them in Florence. Now Cara’s fiancé was seriously injured, and they were at the mercy of ten vampyre soldiers and their leader.

The soldiers had been tasked with delivering the women to their old friend Father Kavanaugh at the Vatican. They were a peace offering given by the new Prince of Florence to his enemy, the Curia. William had…

Raven halted her thoughts.

She didn’t have time to dwell on the past. She didn’t have time to grieve his loss or curse him for what he had or hadn’t done. Through a great force of will, she ignored the feeling in the pit of her stomach and focused on the present.

She needed to protect her sister. She needed to ensure they reached Rome alive.

A shout sounded to Raven’s left, and her captor slowed. They climbed what seemed like a steep, rocky hill and went about twenty paces before he heaved her roughly to the ground.

The soldier took a large step back, staring down at her with undisguised contempt before striding away.

He’d deposited her in a copse of trees, seemingly protected. She searched the darkness, eagerly looking for her sister. Thankfully, Cara had been placed on the ground nearby, sprawled across the roots of a tree. Raven crawled to her side.

“A short rest,” announced Stefan, the leader of the group. “We’ll take cover for the day in Umbria. Princess Simonetta is an ally, and the Prince’s couriers should have informed her of our presence.”

Raven only half-listened as she examined her sister. Cara was breathing steadily, eyes closed.

Raven squeezed her hand. “Cara.”

She didn’t respond.

Raven tried again and again. Cara made no movement.

Raven struggled to her feet, ignoring the searing pain that shot from ankle to hip in her disabled leg. She stumbled toward Stefan, biting the inside of her cheek against the pain.

“I need you to examine my sister.”

The French Canadian gave her a scornful look. “I don’t treat human beings.”

“She’s been unconscious for hours. She may be in a coma.”

Stefan favored her with his back and began to speak to the largest soldier, who was commanding the detachment that surrounded them.

“I’m talking to you.” Raven lifted her voice in Italian, barely keeping hold of her temper.

“I don’t engage in conversations with food. Especially food that suffers from hysteria.” Stefan spoke over his shoulder before continuing his conversation.

“Hysteria?” Raven seethed. “You misogynistic asshole.”

A series of growls rose from the soldiers, and she watched as they approached her from all sides.