by Anna Hackett
A frown settled on his face. “What?”
She stood, dragging the cover with her, wrapping it toga-style around her body. “Africus has manipulated the brotherhood.” He’d almost made her kill an innocent man. “He’s dangerous and must be stopped.”
“This is my fight.”
She tilted her head. “I’m the best of the Hashshashin. I can help you.”
Dante considered her words, then he straightened. “I don’t need any help.”
Samia gripped the cover tighter. “Is that you or the pride speaking?”
Breath whistled through his teeth.
“I have other skills apart from camouflage,” she said. “I can follow a trail no one else sees. I can track Africus.” She smiled at him. “And I can help you control the pride.”
He turned back to the window, staring hard through the glass.
The tense muscles in his back told her she had him. “A good assassin always uses all available resources.”
He turned and gave her a short nod. “Very well. I promise not to touch you again.”
He couldn’t know how much those words cut her. Like everyone else, he only wanted her for her ability to kill.
“He came this way.”
Dante watched Samia kneel down and press her fingers to the cobblestone street. Unable to control it, his gaze wandered over her, tracing her slim body, now unfortunately clothed.
Dio, he could still taste her, feel her satin skin, hear her cries as she found her release.
She looked up, her eyes locking with his. “The trail is hours old.”
Dante cursed. Not just his prey, but himself. He should never have touched Samia. Now as they searched the streets, all he could think about was her.
He should have locked her away as he’d planned and continued the search for Africus alone. He pulled in a deep breath. Here he was, focused on her and not his duty.
“I will see if the wind can find him.” Dante summoned the South Wind. It blew up around them, ruffling Samia’s dark hair. He prayed for it to soothe him, to ease the desire still churning in his system.
But his wind was made of the warm southern air that blew up from Africa. It simply made his heated body hotter. With a jerk of his arm, he sent it out. “Find him.”
Moments later it came back. Nothing. Nothing but frustration.
“We’ve been at this for hours with nothing to show.” Dante resisted the urge to thrust a fist into a nearby wall.
Samia stood and turned in a slow circle, scanning the surroundings. “I don’t give up. Ever.” She headed off down a narrow side street. “This way.”
He had no idea what she sensed, but he followed.
No words passed between them and Samia seemed as reluctant as he to break the silence. He knew she felt the tension stretching between them. Was she thinking of what had happened? How she’d flown apart in his arms?
Dante wasn’t sure he’d ever forget the look in her eyes. The stunned pleasure. He’d realized he’d given her something she’d never felt before. And when he’d realized he’d given it to her while she was tied up like an animal, he’d been ashamed.
He studied her as they walked, bathed in the afternoon sun. Her face was set in concentration and her dark hair feathered around it. He’d always preferred women with long locks, but the short style suited Samia, accented her sharp cheekbones. She was really quite beautiful.
She glanced at him, and again he thought how heartbreaking those eyes were. He knew a young boy’s death had put most of the pain there, but what other horrors lurked in her past?
He’d hurt her when he’d pulled away from her earlier. Something he hadn’t meant to do. He’d thought he was doing the right thing. He wanted her to see he wouldn’t use her the way she’d been used all her life.
But isn’t that what he was doing now? Using her to find Africus?
A vibration in his pocket broke his dark thoughts. He pulled his cell phone out and looked at the screen. “I have to take this.”
With a nod, Samia walked away. A few feet down the street, she paused, studying the ground.
Dante snapped open the phone. “Venti.”
“What took you so long?”
“Ciao, Luca. I’m fine, how are you?”
His brother heaved a sigh. “Mi spiace. The anger…”
“I know.” Dante knew Luca was straining under the growing fury, heard it in his voice. “Have you found Caecius? What about Soren and Antonio?”
Another sigh. “Caecius can’t run forever, and Soren is closing in on Apeliotus.”
“And Antonio?”
The silence made Dante’s nerves stretch.
“The lust is bad for Antonio. Corus has gone to ground in Florence and Antonio is barely holding on to his sanity without hurting anyone.”
Antonio was the more relaxed and charming of the brothers. He’d always loved women—plain or pretty, slim or round. It worried Dante that his brother had to deal with his problem alone.
“And you, Dante? How is the pride?”
Dante looked down the street at the woman busy searching for a sign of Africus. “Fine.”
Luca let out a low curse. “You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I’m telling the truth, mio fratello. Africus sent a Hashshashin assassin after me—”
This time the North Wind’s curse was long and loud. “Are you injured?”
“No. The assassin is with me. She—”
“She? Not Samia Hassan?”
Dante’s eyes narrowed. “You know of her?”
“You’re lucky to be alive. I hear she’s deadly.”
“She’s helping me find Africus. And more than that, when I touch her, she controls the pride.”
“What?” Luca barked.
“The whispers fade, Luca. The pride dies.”
“Madre del Dio.”
Dante knew his brother well. There was something in his tone. “You know something about this? Tell me.”
♥ Uploaded by Coral ♥
Chapter Six
“A legend. One that speaks of the Aurae.”
Dante gripped the phone. Somehow the name sounded familiar, like the chords of a well-played song. “Who are the Aurae?”
“There’s a myth about a group of women granted control of the breezes for each of the seasons. It was said the women had the power to calm the vices.” Luca pulled in a ragged breath. “The holder of the summer breezes warmed the North Wind, winter breezes cooled the South Wind, spring eased the West and fall fulfilled the East.”
“Why did you never tell us?”
“Because the Aurae died out hundreds of years ago. They mated with humans, their blood thinned and their power vanished. I read it in father’s books, but thought it a fairy tale. Is this assassin human?”
Dante watched Samia kneel again, palm pressed to the ground. “No, she isn’t human, but she has no idea what being her mother was.”
“She must be Aurae, Dante. Use her to help you defeat Africus.”
Use her. As she’d been used by the Hashshashin. Dante knew he should. The fate of the world depended on him defeating Africus.
He watched her turn a corner and disappear down a side alley. Where was she going? “Luca, I have to go. Be careful.”
After closing the phone, Dante strode around the corner.
She stood there, her shoulders stiff. She didn’t turn to face him. “We’re too late.”
Two bodies slumped against the wall of a butter-colored building. They’d fought each other until their faces were unrecognizable.
Dante ground his teeth, his hands curling. It had started. Africus had tasted blood and things would get worse. His infection would gain strength and soon people all over the city would succumb to pride.
Suddenly Samia spun away, her body tensing. She looked like a greyhound sensing the bait. “I have him. I have his trail.”
Dante forced himself to focus back on his job. He would tell Samia of the Aurae later. Right now,
he needed to do what he’d been born to do. “Let’s go.”
They broke into a jog. They followed the trail through the streets and piazzas. A few times the scent grew faint, but Samia never gave up. The sun was setting, turning the sky brilliant orange, when they came to a stop in front of the towering edifice of the Colosseum.
Whispers rose up around Dante, like a cloud of dark smoke. Taunting, tempting. Do you think you can best me, WindKeeper?
“He’s inside. I’m going alone from here.”
Samia stiffened, fire sparking in her eyes. “No way, Venti.”
Dante had already decided. Luca had told him to use Samia, but he couldn’t. He held up a hand. “You’ve already helped me, more than I can ever repay. I won’t use you. I won’t let you risk your life.” With that, he let his body melt away, turning to wind.
“No!” she cried.
But he was already moving away, over the tall fence surrounding the monument, then high over the curved walls.
He saw Africus waiting, leaning against a stone wall at one end of the stadium, below the stands where the fans had once cheered on their favorite gladiators.
Nothing remained of the ancient wooden floor of the main arena, which left the underground tunnels and rooms exposed. Once, they’d been filled with gladiators and wild animals waiting to be entertainment for the bloodthirsty crowds.
Dante touched down on the modern walkway crossing the expanse of tunnels. His body solidified and his stride never slowed as he headed for his rival.
“It ends here, Africus.”
Africus’s shoulder-length fall of blond hair framed his pretty, smiling face, adding to the unearthly beauty. It belied the evil dwelling inside him. “Yes. Let’s end this.”
Damn the man! Samia climbed the metal fence surrounding the Colosseum.
He’d said he wouldn’t use her and that made her feel warm inside. But by making the decision to leave her behind, didn’t he realize he’d taken the choice away from her?
She was deciding for herself what she wanted. She wanted to fight at Dante Venti’s side and help him defeat his Tempest Wind.
On the other side of the fence, she dropped the few feet to the ground, crouching low to absorb the impact. Then she was up and running, blending with the shadows to avoid any security guards patrolling the perimeter.
She ran inside the main arena and headfirst into a wall of howling wind. On the other side of the mass of exposed tunnels, she saw Dante and Africus.
The wind screamed like a wild animal, tearing through the ancient building at high speed. She heard the whispers living in it, dark voices urging ugly, prideful things. She ignored the voices and battled to the walkway across the arena, her gaze on the fight.
Both men strained against the wind. Dante moved his arms and a huge gust of air knocked Africus to his knees.
The Tempest Wind rose to his feet and sent his own wind back in retaliation.
Dante staggered, but stayed upright. The men moved closer, laboring against each other’s power. Then Dante swung out with a fist.
Africus fought back with vicious kicks and punches. Dante blocked and matched each thrust with one of his own. It was a deadly display of brutal choreography. Dante was bigger than his opponent and seemed to have an edge.
Fighting the wind, Samia pushed forward. Halfway across the walkway, she saw Dante drop to his knees.
No. She hurried, battling the gusts tearing at her clothes and making her eyes water.
Suddenly the wind died away and she heard Africus laughing.
“Not so powerful now, WindKeeper.”
Dante’s groan echoed across the ancient stonework. “Stop.”
“Stop the whispers? I don’t control them, Venti. If you hear them—” Africus leaned close, his blond hair falling forward “—it’s because you want them.”
“No.” Dante’s tone was tortured.
Hold on. Samia increased her pace. She saw the sweat sheening his face and drenching his shirt.
“Just give in, Keeper. It’s such a powerful feeling. Don’t you deserve it?” Africus wrapped an arm around Dante’s shoulders like an old friend. “Join me. Stop fighting and revel in your true nature.”
The Tempest Wind helped Dante to his feet. Samia skidded to a stop a few feet from them. “Fight it, Dante. Fight him.”
Dante looked at her, his face strained, his eyes glazed. “Samia?”
“Yes.” She stepped closer and watched Africus’s blue eyes narrow. “He’s evil. Fight him.”
“I…I can’t anymore.” Dante drew in a shuddering breath. A bead of sweat slid down his temple. “I’m not strong enough.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Accept the wind and you’ll be stronger.” Africus shot her a disdainful look. “She is merely a woman. She has no power.”
Dante’s forehead furrowed. “I am already powerful.”
“Yes, yes, you are,” Africus said in a soothing tone. “But you can have more.”
No. She was losing him. “Don’t listen to him.”
“Take what the wind offers you.” Africus held a hand out to Dante. “Let us stand together. She is nothing but a killer. She cannot make you stronger.”
“Yes, I can.” A sense of rightness, of power, swept through Samia. Dante Venti needed her, whether he realized it or not.
She had been a killer, but the Hashshashin had decided that for her. Now she was making a choice to be something else.
Knowledge she never knew she possessed welled up inside her. She knew what she needed to do to save Dante. With him so far gone, she knew a simple touch would no longer be enough.
Her belly quivered and she glanced at Africus. She really didn’t want to do this with the Tempest Wind watching. But when she glanced back at Dante’s pain-filled face, she realized he was fading fast, sliding into the pride that would suck a good man away.
Her hands went to the hem of her shirt. She yanked it over her head, baring her skin. Dante’s eyes zeroed in there and she heard his breath hitch.
“What are you doing?” His voice was strained.
“What I need to do. What I want to do. For you.”
Africus gave a frustrated screech. “She is a seductress. She thinks her body is worth more than the power. She is beneath you, WindKeeper.”
Dante’s golden gaze met hers. “Why?”
The cool night air caressed her skin and made her shiver. “Because I need you, too.” She raised her hand. “Because I choose you.”
His big body trembled. She knew he was fighting the ugly pride twisting in him. With a groan, he placed his hand in hers.
Africus laughed. “Pride will make you mine, Venti.”
Dante’s fingers twined with hers and Samia saw the haze in his eyes clear a little.
“But not right now.” Dante’s hand shot out, clamping around Africus’s throat.
The blond man’s eyes widened and he clutched at Dante’s wrist. He coughed, fighting for air. “It won’t be long.” Then his body began fading into the wind. “I’ll be back when I know you’re ready to give in to what you really want.”
Dante broke away, lunging after Africus. Samia watched his steps falter, his hands flexing at his sides as he watched Africus sweep out of the ruins.
“I’m too far gone. I can’t turn into the wind.” Despair threaded Dante’s words.
Samia took a step toward him.
He exhaled and turned to face her. “I can’t keep the pride in check any longer. Not long enough to kill him.”
“Let me help you.” She grabbed his hands, felt them shaking. “Let me touch you. Let me take the pride away.”
His big body shuddered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.”
Her words broke his fragile control. Dante’s strong hands grabbed Samia, yanking her off her feet. His mouth took hers. The kiss was bruising, his lips taking full control of hers, demanding a response.
She felt the pride flowing off him in waves. H
er hands clutched his shoulders and her legs wrapped around his waist. The sun had gone and the shadows around them were deep. He moved them further into the private darkness.
“You should get away from me,” he growled.
“No.” She was going to fight for him.
He shook his head. “I won’t use you.”
“We both know it’s more than that.”
He moaned. “I need you. Now.” His hands slid over her breasts, pulling the cups of her bra down. His fingers flicked over her nipples. She arched against him, heat flooding through her like lava. He stripped her bra off and bent his head, his mouth clamping on one nipple.
He backed her against a rock wall, grinding his erection against her heat. The sensation made her delirious. His hot mouth moved to her neglected nipple. She wanted this man more than she needed air.
When he lifted his head, she mourned the loss of his mouth. His gaze burned into her. “We shouldn’t do this.” The lines around his mouth deepened. “I promised not to take what I want from you.”
Her hands slid into his hair and yanked his face up to hers. “You’re not taking, I’m giving.”
“Last chance.” He stared at her, his chest heaving. “Last chance to escape.”
She smiled. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“If I don’t have you, I’ll go mad.” He went to work on her trousers, pulling them off along with her panties. His hand brushed along her thigh, then in a shocking instant he was thrusting one long finger into her heat.
Her head dropped back, the emotions storming through her intense and shocking. His finger circled her, caressing and teasing. She bucked against him and when he slid another finger inside her, she thought she’d melt into a hot puddle.
“You’re so wet, Samia. For me.” He sat her on a low stone wall. He pulled her thighs apart and stepped between them. “I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone.”
Her heart did a slow turn. She reached for his shirt, ripping it out of his trousers and yanking it over his head. Next she attacked his trousers. When her hand brushed the bulging erection straining against the zipper, his groan was long and loud.
She smiled and freed him. He was big, thick and hard. She stroked him, imagining the feeling of him filling her. His eyes closed and he pushed against her hand.