Assassin's Honor

by Monica Burns

  "Fotte." The oath of frustration and self-loathing roared out of him. "It wasn't like that, Emma. I lose my head when I'm near you. I can't think straight."

  "You need a better excuse than that. God, and to think I almost bought into this whole protection bit of yours."

  "Deus damno id, Emma, I am trying to protect you."

  "How? By having me service your sexual needs," she bit out as she leaned into him, her forefinger jabbing him in the chest with a fury he knew he deserved. "I should have let that other guy kill you."

  Her words cracked into him like a club. Mater Dei, couldn't the woman see he was already on the cross where she was concerned? What he'd done was reprehensible, but did she really think he'd offered her his protection just to sleep with her? He was lost as to the how or why, but the one thing he knew with a certainty was that they belonged together. She had every right to be outraged and hurt by what he'd done, but he refused to let her dismiss what had already passed between them. Furious with himself for creating this bed of thorns he was in, he glared at her.

  "He wouldn't have killed me, and we both know it would have only delayed the inevitable. You're mine, Emma. You have been since the first time I laid eyes on you."

  "Your arrogance is unbelievable. I'm not a piece of property you can do with as you like."

  "You're right, you're not a piece of property," he said through clenched teeth. "But you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you."

  "Just because you tricked me into sleeping with you doesn't mean you own me." Her words were a battering ram to his chest. "I'm getting this goddamn blood bond of yours dissolved the minute I get back to the mansion."

  She spun around and headed for the bedroom. Almost through the door, she suddenly grasped the doorframe and came to an abrupt halt. The shudder rippling through her frame made his heart contract with sorrow and remorse. Merda, he was a bastard for what he'd done to her. As he closed the gap between them, she whirled to face him, and he was brought to a stop by her outstretched hand holding him at bay. Pale and trembling, she met his gaze with a look that reminded him of someone in shock.

  "You said--altered me and the agreement. What did you mean by altered me?"

  "Emma, I don't--"

  "No, I distinctly heard you say the bond altered you and the original agreement." She focused her eyes on him with a fierce intensity. " Tell me what that means."

  "It means you're a Sicari."

  "No. There's more to it than that, isn't there?" she snapped.

  "Yes." He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Transference of a Sicari ability is inevitable. The strength and type of ability are dependent on the individual."

  "How long? How long before . . . I'm . . . before this happens?" The horror in her question made his gut clench as he stared at her devastated expression.

  "Everyone's different. It could be days, weeks . . . at other times it takes a traumatic event to trigger it."

  "Oh, fuck." Her hand floundered through the air as she turned to cling to the bedroom doorframe. When he reached out for her, she slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me."

  "Emma, please--"

  "No." She jerked upright and turned to face him. "No more lies. Save them for some other woman who's a sucker for a smooth talker."

  The fury in her voice held a note of contempt and humiliation. Her mortification was so deep he could hear the pain of it echoing in her voice. But there was something else in her expression. Shock. She'd realized she was no longer the Emma Zale she'd once been. She was different, completely changed, and she'd had no choice in the matter.

  Fotte. What sort of man was he that he could cause the woman he loved so much pain? The revelation was so sharp it sucked the air out of his lungs in a single breath. What had he done? He had to tell her. She needed to know--understand that his love for her had driven all of his actions. Every sin he'd committed, every touch, look, and word had been because he'd refused to acknowledge his emotions. Denied the reality of what was happening to him.

  Most of all, she needed to understand how much of a coward he'd been by refusing to tell her everything--including how much he loved her. Everything he'd done had been because she was a part of him. The second half that made him whole. If he could make her believe that, then there might be hope for him yet. He reached for her, and she swung at him.

  Despite his ability to easily dodge the blow, he allowed her the solid punch to his jaw. His head snapped back from the force of her jab as her fury and humiliation coursed through her arm and fist straight into him. It took him a moment to recover, and when he'd straightened upright, the door to the bedroom had already slammed shut. There was a finality to the sound that sliced deep and the sliver of hope left inside him curled up and died.

  EMMA pressed her back to the oak door and closed her eyes with a quiet sob. Oh God, what was wrong with her? How could she have been so easily fooled a second time? When he'd said there was something between them, he'd sounded so sincere. And dear lord, the way he'd made love to her--no, it had been sex. Nothing more.

  Incredible sex, but nothing more than that. No, that wasn't true. It had meant more to her than she wanted to admit. She opened her eyes and stared at the tousled bed. It was a vivid reminder of what she'd shared with Ares such a short time ago. If she dwelled on what they'd shared, she might never recover from the pain and humiliation she was experiencing now.

  A shudder quaked through her, and she stumbled toward the bathroom. At the sink, she stared into the mirror. The woman facing her was a stranger. Eyes wide in her face with the pale complexion of someone in shock, her reflection reminded her of the way she'd looked the night she'd lost her parents. Emotionally devastated. But this time, humiliation was the crippling emotion. Not grief. This was even worse than when she'd found Jonathan in bed with his intern. This humiliation was far more painful because her connection to Ares was far stronger than anything she'd ever felt for her ex-fiance.

  She could have easily forgiven the impulse that had controlled both of them the morning after he ran the gauntlet. She certainly hadn't objected. If anything, she'd been just as much a seducer as he had. She'd encouraged him. And she'd been doing that since their first kiss. Blaming him for what happened that morning was unfair. Despite the heat of the moment, she did remember his reluctance. But today? He'd had plenty of opportunity to tell her everything before touching her. The bond had obviously been sealed the morning after he'd run the gauntlet, but he should have said something. He hadn't offered her a choice this time.

  It wasn't the idea of being bound to him that horrified her. And while she might not have liked having a Sicari ability, she would have found a way to live with it just as she had her own gift. She might not have been too happy about it in the beginning, but she would have come around. But he hadn't said a word until everything was a fait accompli. That was what hurt the most. It cheapened what she'd had the stupidity to think was something special. To not tell her until after they'd slept together--for a man who prided himself on honor, he'd shown none toward her. Where had his nobility been this afternoon?

  The man had betrayed her for the second time. First, he'd brought her to White Cloud simply to have her look at Sicari artifacts. When she'd discovered his dishonesty, she promised herself she wouldn't fall for his lies again. But today he'd persuaded her that the artifacts hadn't been his reason for bringing her here. He'd convinced her that he'd just wanted to keep her safe. And she'd actually believed him.

  She'd believed him.

  What a fool she'd been. Cupping her hands beneath the running faucet, she splashed water over her face. The cold of it stung her skin. Sharp and acute, the pain reminded her of the dark emotion in Ares's eyes earlier. He'd said it would never be just sex with her, and in his expression, she'd seen the knowledge that he would have to pay a price for saying that. Was it possible he'd understood that he'd sacrificed his honor today just to be with her? A shudder raced through her.

  S
he was an idiot for hoping to find an excuse for his behavior. Christ, she didn't need to understand his actions. The why didn't matter. He'd played her for the fool, and she wasn't going to hang around and be fooled a third time. Reading those damn artifacts would have to serve as her debt then Atia could break the bond between them and she'd be done with him.

  She ignored the protests echoing in the back of her head. Ruthlessly, she shoved them back into a dark corner. No. He'd violated her trust. There was no room for excuses here. Her heart was already close to breaking, and making excuses for him would just push her over the edge.

  The admission sent a bolt of terror through her. It was the closest she'd come to acknowledging that her feelings for Ares were stronger than she realized. And if she didn't get out of here, he was going to find out. The sooner she left, the better. She needed time to strengthen her defenses where he was concerned.

  With as much speed as possible, she gathered up her discarded clothes and dressed. Her fingers fumbled as she pulled his shirt over her head. The action made her senses reel as she drank in the warm, male scent of him buried in the shirt. A tear splashed onto her hand. She squeezed her eyes shut. No. She would not cry. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply he'd hurt her.

  It didn't take long to finish dressing. When she was ready, she turned toward the door and froze. Would he let her leave or would he refuse to let her go? She shivered. She'd have her answer in a few seconds. It seemed to take her a lifetime to reach the door, and her hand trembled as she grasped the doorknob. As best she could, she tried to remove any emotion from her face as she opened the door.

  Ares was seated in front of the fire, but he leaped to his feet the minute she stepped into the living area. She didn't look directly at him. If she did, she wasn't sure what might happen. Instead, she pinned her sights on the cabin's main door and moved toward it. He was there to block her way in seconds. He didn't touch her. He just stood there in silence.

  The anger she'd felt earlier renewed itself. It sent a fiery wave surging through her, leaving a burning heat in its wake. He'd already humiliated her enough. Did he have to make it worse?

  "Get out of my way." She heard the coldness in her voice. It was a small consolation to see his impassive expression flinch at her quiet words. He shook his head.

  "I'm not letting you leave until we've worked this out," he said quietly.

  "There's nothing to work out."

  "Deus damno id, Emma. How can you expect me to explain things if you won't listen to what I have to say?"

  "I think you've said more than enough." She tried to step around him, but he moved to block her way again.

  "I made a mistake, Emma."

  "Not nearly as big as the one I made. Now let me by."

  "No. I need you to understand. I need to tell you how much I--"

  "Tell me what? That courtly line about how your intentions were honorable? You have no honor. You say you do because it helps you justify your actions." It surprised her how cool and emotionless her voice was. What little dignity she still possessed resounded in her words. For that, she was grateful.

  "I'm not trying to justify anything," he bit out. "I'm trying to tell you I understand why I didn't explain things to you. I didn't want to see the truth."

  "The only truth I can see is that you weren't honest with me. You said I was willing to sleep with you the other morning, and you're right. I didn't protest then and I sure as hell didn't protest today." She shuddered at the memory of how easily she'd given in to his caresses just a little while ago. "I could have forgiven you not explaining the blood bond in the heat of the moment the other morning. But today--today you took advantage of me, and now you think you can just explain away your actions. Well, you can't. You just can't and I despise you for it."

  Something swept across his face that sent her heart slamming into her chest. For a fleeting moment, raw emotion twisted his features into a mask of intense pain. Then it was gone. In its place was an emotionless expression that made her wonder if she'd imagined the stark agony. Without a word, he returned to his seat at the fireplace and picked up his jacket from the chair. He took a couple of steps toward her and offered her the coat.

  "Take it. The temperature's dropped and you'll get soaked."

  She stared at it for a moment and shook her head. "No thank you. I don't want anything from you."

  Just as she turned away, she saw that same emotion ravage his features once more. She refused to let it stop her. Something inside her said she'd only be humiliated further if she stayed. She simply headed toward the door and out into the rain.

  Chapter 17

  EMMA opened her bedroom door to look up and down the hall. Ever since returning to Chicago, she'd been looking over her shoulder, expecting to see Ares behind her. It was almost two in the morning, and if Ares had come back tonight, she didn't think he'd be prowling the hallway at this hour. The thought didn't make her any less edgy.

  The dimly lit hall was empty and her hunger forced her to venture out into the corridor. At dinner this evening, her appetite had disappeared the minute Lysander had mentioned Ares was returning to the guild's Wacker Drive complex.

  When she'd returned to the mansion that terrible afternoon over a week ago, the pain of Ares's betrayal had numbed her to the downpour. Lysander had passed her in the hall on the way to her room. Although he hadn't commented on her drenched state, his manner had been sympathetic. Even his deep voice had echoed with regret when he'd informed her it would be two more days before they could return to Chicago.

  At the time, she'd been far from happy about the delay. Now she recognized it for the blessing it was. The size of the White Cloud estate had helped her avoid Ares, giving her time to gather her wits so she wouldn't fall apart when she was finally in the same room with him. Lysander hadn't asked questions, but he seemed to understand that she was hurting. From those brief minutes when she stood soaked in front of the Sicari warrior, he'd taken her under his wing.

  No matter where she went, if he was nearby he made it a point to see to her comfort, including her interactions with the Sicari. With just a look, he'd commanded others to accept her. It was a guarded acceptance, but they were polite and one or two of them even friendly. Phaedra had also opened up to her. The woman's dry sense of humor was similar to her brother's, and it made Emma's heart ache the two or three times Phae had teased her.

  The quiet of the penthouse suite was unnerving as she walked down the hall toward the kitchen. Any second she expected Ares to emerge from the kitchen or come off the elevator. She grimaced. If anything, he was sleeping soundly in his bed. Why should she worry about seeing him? The man sure as hell wasn't worried about her or where she was. The thought sliced into wounds that had barely begun to heal. Discovering his deceit had left her heart bleeding. Worse, she hated herself for wanting him to come begging for her forgiveness.

  He hadn't.

  And if he'd confessed his sins to Atia, the Prima Consul hadn't said a word to her about it. Was he waiting for her to ask his godmother to annul the blood bond? She should have gone to Atia as soon as she'd returned to the mansion that afternoon, but she hadn't.

  Not because she wanted to spare Ares any pain or humiliation. No, Atia had been the reason why she'd chosen to remain silent. Emma didn't have it in her to provoke the older woman's anger and disappointment when the Prima Consul learned what Ares had done. The woman loved him like a son, and Emma was certain the knowledge of what he'd done would devastate Atia. Although his honor was in tatters, she'd been sure he'd speak with his godmother about the matter. When he hadn't, it had only made his treachery cut that much deeper.

  The recessed lights in the ceiling warmed the golden brown marble of the large island in the kitchen. The glass she retrieved from one of the wall cabinets clinked softly when she set it on the marble. With a gentle tug, she opened the door of the refrigerator and pulled out a jug of orange juice.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she s
aw something move. With a quiet scream of surprise, she spun around to see Ares standing at the end of the island. The jug slipped from her fingers only to hover in the air before it floated upward and landed gently on the countertop.

  Her initial thought was how weary he looked. He had more than a hint of five o'clock shadow, and he looked like hell. It was as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Yet, the sword hanging diagonally across his back gave an edge to him that cried out danger. Even that dark gaze of his sent a tingling sensation skating over her skin.

  A desire to comfort him wrapped its tendrils around her heart, but she crushed the need with ruthless determination. Uneasy with his silence, she turned and reached for the orange juice. She shuddered as he removed his sword off his back and laid it on the marble counter before he went to the refrigerator.

  The tension in the air was thick with unspoken emotion, and she deliberately kept her gaze averted. It didn't stop her body from recognizing exactly where he was behind her. He bent slightly to pull out a longneck bottle of beer from the fridge and his back lightly brushed against hers when he straightened to close the door.