The Outlaw's Return ; The Protector by Victoria Bylin

Author:Victoria Bylin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2020-02-18T13:08:27+00:00

* * *

Quintus Fabius Ambustus eased onto a bench in the gladiator hospital behind the amphitheater. Smoke from the torches lining the concrete walls burned his eyes. The stench of blood and sweat reeked in his nostrils. Delirious moans and cries for help from other wounded men ricocheted off the arched ceiling, but not even the chaos and bolts of pain radiating through his body failed to erase the image of Adiona’s horrified gaze and frightened expression.

He rubbed his eyes, irritated by the beauty’s hold on him. Two months of near starvation in a disease-infested prison, a fortnight trekking through half of Italy in a slave caravan, and months of training in a gladiator ludus hadn’t felled him. Yet one unexpected glimpse of Adiona’s haunting visage in the stands of the arena had been enough to break his concentration and see him almost killed by arrows.

Dear God, what is wrong with me?

The question made him laugh, which made him groan as pain shot through his chest and bruised ribs. What wasn’t wrong with him? In the last seven months he’d become infamia—disgraced, the lowest of the low. He’d lost his family, wealth, freedom, citizenship and reputation. Everything but his faith in Christ and that, he acknowledged, was hanging by a thread.

Whether he was being punished or tested like some other believers suggested, he knew he didn’t need or want to be tempted by a vixen with an ability to sneak past his defenses and shred his self-control. No woman had ever done that, not even his wife.

He slammed the door on thoughts of Faustina. She was dead and memories of her filled him with guilt and eternal regret.

A solid blow jarred his wounded shoulder. “There’s the mob’s newest darling.”

Quintus cracked open one eye. Alexius, the manager of the gladiator school, stood over him, a grin parting the Greek’s swarthy face.

Rubbing the spot where he’d torn the arrow from his shoulder, Quintus pressed on the piece of cloth he’d used to cover the ragged flesh. “Was that necessary?” he asked, his tone as dry as dust.

“Of course. You don’t think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re famous now, do you?”

“One lost battle isn’t enough to make anyone remember my name.”

“On the contrary.” The tall Greek moved deeper into the small alcove. Pleased by the afternoon’s events, he pulled up a stool and sat down. “Romans appreciate bravery above all else. The way you leaped on that elephant and protected your troupe... The whole city will know who you are by sundown.”

Quintus grunted, unimpressed. “A lot of good it will do me if I bleed to death.”

Alexius glanced at the arrow and growing ring of blood around the wound. “From that scratch? I doubt it.”

A man’s scream echoed down the corridor. A moment later, two of the hospital’s attendants ran past.

“Where’s the physician?” Quintus asked, weary of waiting when the deeply embedded arrow in his leg was making him light-headed from loss of blood.

“He’ll be here soon. By the sound of it, the day’s amputations are almost finished.

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