A Stray Drop of Blood (A Stray Drop of Blood #1)

“Wait!” Abigail exclaimed, anger taking the place of shame. “You cannot just dismiss me like that! I can pay you. I have jewelry–”

“I do not care.” Lydia spun to face her again. “Your life is not a bad one, Abigail. You are not in danger if you have this child, so any solution I can offer you would be a risk you should not take. You could die.”

“I do not care!” Abigail echoed, but with more fervor. Tears of rage gathered in her eyes. “I feel as though I am already dead. I have no hope anymore.”

“You are a child and a fool.” Disdain dripped from the downturned corners of her mouth. “You do not endanger your life because of a lack of hope. You do not risk sterility because you do not like your master. You have years ahead of you, possibly good years. Do not throw them away.”

“That is what I am trying to keep from doing.” Fire swept up her spine. She did not pause to think that she was suddenly convinced to an action she had been unsure of simply because someone told her not do it. She did not want to examine her own rebellious spirit. “You do not know me or my situation. Why do you question me? Is it your place to decide my future?”

Lydia cocked her head, examined her steadily. At length, she nodded. “Wait here.”

Abigail’s eyes slid closed as the fire blew out of her spirit. What had she done?

Nothing, not yet. Buying the poison did not necessitate taking it.

But she would have the option.





*





Jason and Lentulus plodded down the street. He knew his friend did not want to be spending his day off engaged in this particular enterprise any more than he did, but they both recognized that they had no choice. They all took their friendships more seriously than they would ever admit.

“If he does this again,” Lentulus said from between clenched teeth, “I will personally turn him into a eunuch.”

Jason laughed, but he was almost convinced it was a good idea. This was not the first time they had had to fetch a drunken and unconscious Menelaus from the home of a harlot. At least the woman knew to find them, rather than turning to an officer that could punish him. But one of these days it might serve him right if they left him or dumped him on the steps to the governor’s palace to see what fate dished out.

“There it is.” Lentulus nodded toward the crumbling building where they would find their friend.

“So it is.” Jason scanned the street without interest. “I cannot say as I regret my absence from this area. I–” he cut off abruptly, halted in his steps.

“Jason?” Lentulus turned with question in his eyes.

“Go on without me.” Jason took off across the street. It did not occur to him to wonder how he could spot her so quickly in a place he never expected to find her. He was far too busy wondering what exactly Abigail was doing in this part of town. He knew whatever the answer was, it would not satisfy him. It was too dangerous for someone as beautiful as she to wander these streets–the men who frequented them had a tendency to take first and ask the price later.

“Abigail!” Her eyes flew to him, and he did not miss the panic and the guilt in them. He stopped a foot away, his face taut with anger. “What are you doing here?”

“I–” Abigail shifted from foot to foot. “I mean–this is Elizabeth’s mother’s. I have been keeping her updated on her daughter’s condition.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed in unveiled suspicion. If that was the simple truth, why the flush, why the averted gaze? “I do not like you here. Go home and do not come to this part of town again.”

A harlot filled the doorway, vial in hand and curiosity on her face. She regarded them for half a second before smiling. “Good morning, officer.” She took up position against the post of her door. Her gaze flitted dryly to Abigail. “You have a handsome one here, love. Of course, if I had known the father agreed with your decision, I would not have been so disagreeable. Here you go.” She helt out the vial to Abigail, who, mouth agape, made no move to take it. “This should take care of your little problem. Although, it really is a shame. It would be a beautiful child.”

“Child?” Jason turned his gaze, hard and unblinking, on Abigail. Her lips were still parted, but she seemed to have nothing to say. When she forced her eyes up to his, there was fear in them. She looked as though she expected a blow. He just grabbed her arm. “Home. Now.”

“Master, I–”

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