Wolf Whistle

Groggy, she rose to her feet. What a fine time for irony and Annia to meet. When she kicked the knife out of Claudia’s reach, she’d unwittingly sent it to Marcus. ‘Push,’ he had shouted, holding the weapon point forwards. ‘Push, Claudia!’

Nemesis indeed.

Annia impaled upon her own killing machine.

Marcus was shaking, there was blood in his hair, down his face, all over his tunic. The cousin he’d tried to protect lay dead by his own hand, his childhood memories shattered and destroyed. Yet he was smiling. ‘About those keys,’ he said softly.

When Claudia turned away, there were tears in the place where the red mist had been.

In the office, she leaned her hands flat on the desk and waited for her heart to stop pounding. The show was over here, as it was down on the Field of Mars. Around now, the Theatre of Marcellus would be spilling its audience into the street. Carefree and elated, they’d head for taverns and eateries or take strolls by the river and make proposals of marriage to unsuitable partners, buoyed on the tide of excitement.

Claudia studied her peach-coloured tunic, heavy and stiff with her blood, then clipped it around her with the butterfly brooches. I have won, she told Annia. Not lost.

So I can wear this gown because it-and you-do not matter. In the peristyle, Drusilla rolled on to her back and twisted left and right on the gravel path as the sun set low over the Palatine.

That’s something else you’ve got wrong, Annia. Not only will Arbil stay in business to rescue orphans, but up there, in the Imperial Palace, Augustus won’t be toppled by seditions or uprisings resulting from Agrippa’s premature death. He’s too shrewd for that. He’ll find a way through.

We all do.

Satisfying red streaks adhered to an otherwise spotless pleated tunic as Claudia searched for the key to the handcuffs and she felt she could almost hear Annia’s ghost squawk in protest. Well, she thought, dangling her find from her index finger, Rome might be cheated of a trial and execution, but the death of this elfin killer has done no harm to a certain individual’s prospects for the Senate House.

‘Catch!’ She tossed the key to Marcus and stepped over Annia’s body lying in a pool of its own congealing blood.

‘Aren’t you going to give me a hand here?’ he asked.

‘Good heavens, man, you’ve already got two, surely you don’t expect me to run round after you like a lackey.’

‘We could negotiate,’ he muttered, after his fifth blind stab at the lock. ‘You get me out of this ticklish predicament, I get you out of your mess with the moneylender.’

‘Mess with the moneylender?’ Claudia echoed, passing the atrium pool. ‘I fear you’ve misjudged me, Marcus Cornelius. I have no debts to settle.’

Oh, come on. You didn’t seriously imagine Claudia Seferius would let Arbil bury a dozen precious gems with his wretched demon? Not when pebbles would serve equally well?

As she climbed the stairs, Claudia watched Orbilio wrestle with the lock. He’s trapped a killer, saved the Empire, stopped a paedophile-goddammit. She smiled a short, lopsided smile. He’ll be positively insufferable in the future.

Future?

Did I say future? On the top step, she paused, inhaling the lavender and myrrh wafting from the braziers. For a moment, she imagined she caught a whiff of sandalwood, too-his sandalwood-but then again, maybe not. The wooden gallery creaked underfoot and she sighed. Her immediate future involved a bath, a few healing herbs and a restorative hug from Drusilla…but beyond that?

Maybe, thought Claudia, it was time she considered the longer term. All right, she owned a wine business, this house, plus a villa and a vineyard in Etruria-but let’s face it, money isn’t everything.

Hadn’t she always said so?

Marilyn Todd

Wolf Whistle

About the Author

Marilyn Todd was born in Harrow, England, but now lives with her husband on a French hilltop, surrounded by chateaux, woodlands and vines. As well as sixteen historical thrillers, Marilyn also writes short stories, which are mostly crime-based. When she isn't killing people, Marilyn enjoys cooking. Which is pretty much the same thing. Look for her next novel, Jail Bait, coming in ebook form soon. www.marilyntodd.com

Marilyn Todd

Wolf Whistle

Jail Bait

A deadly contagion has sent many of Rome’s wealthier citizens fleeing to the country-but for Claudia Seferius, caught in the act of stealing, plague is the least of her worries.

Taking refuge in the beautiful spa resort of Atlantis, Claudia makes friends with a charming young man called Cal, where a little flirting in tranquil lakeside surroundings seems an ideal way to pass the time. But within hours Cal is dead.

And he’s not the only one.

Pretty soon Claudia begins to wonder whether Atlantis isn’t a lot more dangerous than the disease-ridden streets she left behind…