“Escape from what?” Lydia retreated, step by step, toward the pool. And the table with the decanter sitting on it.
“Everyone has secrets. Cassius has a talent for collecting them. And an even greater talent for using them to his advantage.”
Her elbow rapped against the table, and Lydia stopped. “He’s blackmailing you?”
“Something like that.”
Keep him talking.
“My father,” she said, reaching up to take hold of her spectacles, which she placed on her face. “He’s a powerful man. He can help you. He can make Lucius pay for what he’s done.”
The legatus shook his head. “No one has the power to make Cassius pay. Not me. Not you. Not even your father.” His voice was bitter. “We are all his little puppets, made to play the role he chooses for us.”
The decanter was inches from her hand, but she’d have to be fast. He was only a few paces away. There would be only one chance.
“It doesn’t have to be this way.” Her voice was pleading, and she hated it. “You have a choice.”
“I know I have a choice. There is always a choice. But if protecting those I care about means sacrificing your life—” He broke off with a cough, then gave a quick shake of his head. “I’m sorry, because—”
Lydia moved. Her fingers closed around the neck of the decanter, arm moving in a wide arc as she swung it toward his head.
But the legatus was faster. He caught her wrist, twisting it. Pain lanced up her arm, her fingers opening, and the decanter fell to the tile with a crash, bits of glass slicing her feet.
“He’ll kill my family if I don’t do this and I have to protect them.”
Lydia screamed, the sound piercing and shrill, primal terror racing through her veins. She fought him, twisting this way and that, but he was stronger. More skilled.
He pinned her arms. But as his ankle hooked hers, pulling her weight out from underneath her, Lydia flung herself back.
The legatus cursed, feet sliding on the slick floor, and they plunged into the steaming pool.
The water burned Lydia’s skin as she struggled to get her feet under her. Jerking hard, she freed one hand from his grip, then clawed at him, her nails digging deep before he caught hold of her again.
They broke the surface, Lydia gasping for breath, the water up to her chest.
“Quit fighting.” His face was inches from hers, so she saw the panic flare in his eyes as a loud knock sounded at the door.
Lucius’s voice echoed through: “I don’t have all day, Marcus. Please don’t cause me to take this up with your father.”
The legatus squeezed his eyes shut, the muscles in his jaw standing out against his skin. But without a word, he pushed Lydia down the pool toward the open drain.
“Please!” Lydia fought against him, trying to brace her feet against the pool floor, but he only lifted her, not seeming to care as she kicked at his legs. “Kill Lucius instead!” The plea tore from her lips. “He can’t blackmail you if he’s dead!”
“Do you think I wouldn’t slit his throat in a heartbeat if I thought it would make a difference?” He shouted the words in her face, his grip on her arms tightening. “Do you think I haven’t thought this through? Do you think I haven’t looked for any possible way out? There is none! We are both damned.”
Her shoulders hit the drain, the current tugging at her hips as the warm water flowed into the dark tunnel beyond.
“I can make this quick.” His hands trembled where they gripped her. “It doesn’t have to hurt.”
Lydia contained her sobs long enough to speak. “For my benefit or the benefit of your conscience?”
Instead of answering, he twisted one arm behind her back, then reached up with one hand to grip the side of her jaw. Ready to break her neck.
“Please,” she sobbed. “You can’t do this. I haven’t done anything to you. You don’t even know me!”
His voice sounded strangled as he said, “I do know you.”
She fought to free her wrist from his grip, her body screaming as her muscles strained beyond their limits.
“I didn’t remember until Cassius mentioned your library.” His breathing was ragged. “Though I remember it as your father’s library.”
She met his gaze, and memory made blurry by years and youth stole over her. Of a friend who went away and then came back changed. Became someone who wasn’t her friend at all.