by Monica Burns
“He’ll listen to you better than he will me,” Marcus said quietly. “See if you can mend some broken fences.”
“I’ll go with him,” Lysander said. “Maybe it’ll help if he has someone who can empathize with him about not being told the truth.”
Atia winced at Lysander’s none-too-subtle reference to his own recent discovery that he had a sibling. She took a step toward him, but Marcus’s invisible touch prevented her from going after her new Celeris. As she watched Lysander and Placido leave the room, the full impact of everything that had just happened rolled over her. It was like reliving those first few hours after Gabriel was taken. The numbness, the anger, and the fear. The fear was the worst part. Perhaps even more so now because she knew her son had never come home, and the thought that Cleo was lost to her as well was like a knife slicing into her heart. She drew in a sharp breath at the tangible pain in her chest.
“Talk to me, mea amor.” Marcus’s voice was a soft stroke on her senses as he closed the distance between them. When he wrapped his arms around her, Atia leaned into him and pressed her cheek to his chest.
“She’s not coming back, is she?” she whispered. Marcus didn’t answer her for a long moment.
“I won’t lie to you, Atia.” His voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t know. But I’ll do everything in my power to bring her back safe and sound.”
“We both will.” She lifted her head and stared up into his blue eyes dark with pain. “I love you, Marcus.”
“And I you, carissima. With all my heart and soul.” He kissed her gently then pulled her close again, and Atia leaned into him, taking solace in the comfort of his arms.
Chapter 24
MOONLIGHT filled the inner courtyard of the Absconditus compound as Atia sat on a bench staring up at the sky. Unable to sleep, she’d left Marcus in their bed to come out into the garden to think. She stretched her hand out toward the moon.
It was so close she was certain she could almost touch it. Just like Cleo was so close and yet unreachable. Atia closed her eyes against the fear of what might be happening to her daughter. Would Ignacio allow Nicostratus to hurt her?
He couldn’t have been pretending all this time that he cared for Cleo as if she were his own child. He’d always doted on her. His affection for Cleo had to have been real, hadn’t it? She blinked back tears as she realized her own blindness had put her daughter’s life in jeopardy.
This time, though, she wasn’t going to let Nicostratus win. The Praetorian son of a bitch had taken her son from her. She wouldn’t let him have her daughter, too. She glanced down at the cell phone on the stone bench beside her then picked it up, pressed one of the speed-dial keys, and put the phone to her ear.
The first ring made her mouth go dry as she realized what she was planning. If Marcus knew, he’d lock her up to keep her from following through with her plan. She pushed the thought of him out of her head. She loved him, but this was something she had to do to make amends for her failure to protect Gabriel. She couldn’t change the past, but Cleo was the future, and saving her daughter was all that mattered.
“Hello, Atia.” Ignacio’s voice was quiet with resignation and guilt. She hadn’t thought about what she would say when he answered, but the sound of his voice sent a rush of anger through her.
“I want my daughter back.”
“It’s out of my hands.”
“Is it?” she said in an icy voice. “Tell Nicostratus that I’m willing to trade my life for Cleopatra’s.”
“Are you mad?” Ignacio rasped. His voice was dark with an emotion that gave her hope he cared enough about her and Cleo to save them both.
“Perhaps. But I love my daughter. Can you blame me for wanting to save her?” She kept her voice cold, and a long pause followed her question before she heard him utter a soft oath.
“No. Let me see what I can do.”
“How soon?”
“Christus, Atia. It’s two o’clock in the morning.”
“You’re awake. Guilty conscience, perhaps?” This time she didn’t hide her rage. “Wake the bastardo and let me know where we can do the exchange. I want my daughter free before dawn, or I swear to Juno, I will destroy the Collegium in a matter of months.”
“We both know that’s impossible,” Ignacio replied with a snort of disbelief.
“I have the formula,” she said in a quiet voice.
“You forget how well I know you, Atia. You always were good at bluffing.”
“Am I?” she responded coolly. “We e-mailed Lysander images of the standards the morning after we digitized the document. As the first Sicari Lord reincarnated, he remembered even more than we’d hoped. Tell Nicostratus that if anything happens to my daughter, I’ll make his death a prolonged experiment in agony.”
Her voice hardened with each word until she was finished. From the silence on the other end of the phone, she was certain Ignacio was trying to determine whether she was telling him the truth or lying.
“I expect an answer in the next half hour,” she said coldly then ended the call.
Sagging downward, she rested her elbow on her knee, her head cradled in her hand as she prayed Ignacio had believed her and that he could persuade Nicostratus to accept her lies as the truth. Behind her she heard a soft sound, and she was on her feet in a split second whirling to face the potential threat. The sight of Lysander made her pounding heart slow to a more normal rhythm.
“Sweet Vesta, you scared me half to death. What are you doing here?”
“I just got off the phone with Phaedra, and I needed a place to think about everything that’s happened. This seemed like a good spot.” The scarred side of his face hidden from her, he stared up at the moon with an odd expression. “Cleo found Marta and rescued her.”
“Marta’s alive?” Flabbergasted, her mouth fell open in surprise as Lysander looked at her with a bemused expression and nodded.
“She’s here in the compound. I saw her earlier this evening. She and Dante told me how Cleo found out where Marta was being held and planned the whole rescue operation.” He released a soft sound of amazement. “From what I can tell, Marta’s going to be okay. She told me about this Praetorian who protected her while she was held prisoner.”
“Since when do Praetorians protect Sicari, particularly Sicari women?” she bit out fiercely in disbelief.
“Apparently the Praetorian told Marta that there’s a growing faction inside the Collegium that wants an end to the fighting between the Praetorians and the Sicari.”
“I don’t believe it.” Atia dismissed the idea with a sneer.
“Marta’s convinced this Praetorian, Draco I think was his name, is telling the truth.”
Lysander wore an expression of someone not sure what to believe, but Atia didn’t trust the word of any Praetorian. Ignacio’s actions had simply cemented her belief that the only good Praetorian was a dead one.
“How in Juno’s name did Cleo get Dante to go along with her plans? I’m certain he didn’t clear it with Marcus. If he had, Marcus would have told me.” Lysander cocked his eyebrow at her, and she exhaled a sharp breath that demonstrated her irritation. “Fine. He would have told me after the fact.”
“Cleo discovered Marta was being held in the Convent of the Sacred Mother down off the coast of the Tyrrhenian Sea. She convinced Dante to take a team in and rescue Marta and others.” Lysander shook his head as if he still had trouble believing what had happened. “Dante had been working on a similar plan because the daughter of the woman Ignacio killed today was a prisoner in the convent as well. They pretty much laid waste to the place. They only lost one team member in the raid.”
“Jupiter’s Stone. Nicostratus had to have been furious and eager for revenge. With Ignacio’s delivery of the Tyet of Isis document, the bastardo must have struck the Rome installation because he believes he’s invincible.” Atia bit down on her lip for a brief moment as she tried to figure out how she could use this information to her advantage.
“You know I’m not letting you go alone, don’t you?”
“What are you talking about?” she asked with a shake of her head, trying to hide how he’d caught her by surprise.
“I heard you talking with Ignacio, and if you think I’m letting you do this without an escort, you’re mistaken.” The black patch on Lysander’s face only intensified the hard, unflinching look of his one eye. Resigned to the fact that he’d heard her conversation, she shook her head.
“There’s no point in you risking your life,” she said.
“I disagree. It’s my job to protect you, and I owe Cleo big-time for saving Marta,” he said quietly. “And if he has the Tyet of Isis document like you think, then I’d say he is in a very powerful position.”
“But he doesn’t have you, which is why you can’t go with me,” she said in an emphatic voice as she gestured toward him. “I truly believe you’ll recognize one or more of the standard positions in the document’s message. We can’t risk it.”
“You know me well enough that I’ll tell that son of a bitch nothing.” His green eye was a hard emerald in the moonlight. The taut line of his mouth stretched his scarred features into a vicious mask. “This is one argument you’re not going to win, Atia. If you refuse to listen, then I’ll wake up Marcus, and we’ll see exactly how far you get with this scheme of yours.”
“Don’t you dare threaten me, Lysander Condellaire,” she snapped.
“It’s not a threat,” he said in a quiet, unrelenting voice. “I’m not coming just because I’m your Celeris. I’ve got a personal stake in this, too. Cleo is the closest thing to a sister I have, and I also have a score to settle with Nicostratus.”
“And what if that bastardo settles the score first? What about Phaedra? You’re willing to leave her alone after everything the two of you have been through?”
Lysander didn’t say anything for a moment before he rejected her question with a firm shake of his head. “Phadera’s known since that night in the Pantheon that I would eventually have to settle the score with Nicostratus. She’ll understand.”
“You’re a stubborn fool,” Atia said with a harsh sound of disgust.
“So Phaedra keeps telling me,” he said ironically, his mouth curled in a slight smile.
Atia uttered a soft oath of frustration and angrily turned away from him. How in Juno’s name did Phaedra put up with the man’s stubborn streak? A soft chirp sounded in her pants pocket, and she froze. Ignacio.
The only reason he could be calling back so quickly was that Nicostratus had said no. Her heart contracted with fear before it started to race at a frightening speed. Slowly, her hand slid into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. It continued to ring as she stared at it in silence. After the fourth chirp, she lightly tapped the screen to answer the call.
“Yes.”
“The Patriarch has agreed to your request.” Ignacio’s formal tone was an excellent indicator that Nicostratus was standing close by. The concern she’d heard earlier in Ignacio’s voice had been replaced by a flat tone that revealed no emotion at all. “You’re to come alone.”
“Am I?” She couldn’t help the small laugh of sarcasm. “Tell Nicostratus he’s a fool if he thinks I’m coming alone. My new Celeris, Lysander, will be there just to ensure your Patriarch sticks to his side of the bargain.”
“Very well.” Ignacio’s stilted response made it obvious he wasn’t about to relay her every word to Nicostratus. “Meet us at the top of the Tarpeian Rock in an hour.”
“What? He’s not going to torture me to learn all the Order’s secrets? No, he has you for that, doesn’t he?” She paused to let her sarcastic accusation sink in. “The Tarpeian Rock? At least the bastardo hasn’t lost his twisted sense of humor. I’ll be there.”
Atia grimaced as she tapped the phone to end the call. The Tarpeian Rock was where criminals of ancient Rome had been thrown to their deaths as a punishment for their crimes. At least she knew how Nicostratus intended to execute her. And she had no doubt that she would be dead by sunrise, despite Lysander’s determination not to let anything happen to her. Her mouth dry with fear, she met the gaze of her Celeris serenely, although she was far from calm inside.
“We’re to meet them at the top of the Tarpeian Rock in an hour,” she said quietly.
“Why in Juno’s name would he pick that place?”
“You said you heard my conversation with Ignacio.”
“Obviously not the whole thing,” he growled. “What the fuck did you promise him?”
“My life for Cleo’s.”
Lysander stared at her, speechless. She turned away from him, afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep her composure in the face of his horrified expression. And she was definitely having trouble maintaining her usual unflappable manner. She wasn’t afraid to die, as long as she knew Cleo was safe and out of Praetorian hands. Nothing else was important. Saving Cleo was all that mattered now.
Chapter 25
ATIA’S cold words were still ringing in Ignacio’s ear almost an hour later as he sat beside Cleo on the way to the Tarpeian Rock. Although he had no one to blame but himself, the loathing in Atia’s voice had cut him to the core. What did he expect? The man she’d known for almost thirty years had betrayed her. His gaze shifted toward Cleo, sitting scrunched up in the far corner of the backseat. Her body language said she wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.
Ignacio turned his head to look out the car window. How was he supposed to explain that he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen? A part of him had always hoped he wouldn’t ever have to betray their trust. He’d thought being Nicostratus’s spy would be easy. He hadn’t counted on loving the enemy.
He’d built a life for himself with Atia and Cleo. He loved them both, and the fact that he’d used Cleo as a shield in his efforts to escape Condellaire was something Ignacio would never forgive himself for. He’d panicked. The moment Cleo had realized he’d betrayed them, her expression of horror and disgust had nearly ripped his heart out. His gaze flickered back in her direction.
“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure she’d heard his apology until she slowly turned her head toward him.
“Go fuck yourself, Praetorian.” Her response made him grow cold.
“I don’t expect you to understand. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
“You’re a spy and a traitor,” she bit out in a detached voice. “Now do me a favor and shut the fuck up. I don’t care that you might be feeling a bit guilty. Although it would surprise me if you were even capable of remorse.”
“You’re like a daughter—”
“Don’t you even go there, you bastardo.” Cleo almost shouted the command, and the Praetorian in the front passenger seat turned around. Ignacio gestured for him to ignore what was happening in the backseat. Leaning forward, he closed the glass window separating the front and rear seats.
“I panicked, Cleo. I wouldn’t have taken you hostage if I’d been thinking right. I should have just forgotten about the ring, but I couldn’t.”
“Ask me if I care.”
“I know you do,” he said with a crack in his voice. He knew exactly what she was thinking at the moment. She was hurting, and he was responsible. “If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be so angry with me right now.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. And you can’t care too much, since you turned me over to Nicostratus.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Truthfully, I don’t give a fuck. So why don’t you just shut up and leave me be.”
Ignacio turned away from her, and closed his eyes. There had to be a way out of this. Somehow he would find a way... he immediately closed off his thoughts. He was so used to being in Sicari company, he’d forgotten that he needed to shield his mind from other Praetorians. Nicostratus had spies everywhere. He needed to remember that.
The car came to a sharp halt, throwing him and Cleopatra forward. His gut knotted up with a tension that hurt. They’d r
eached the Tarpeian Rock a lot faster than he’d expected. He looked over at Cleo, and as if aware of his gaze, she turned her head. The hate in her eyes sickened him. Without a word, he got out of the car, and walked around to open the door for her. As Cleo stepped out of the vehicle, she jerked away from his touch.
“Don’t touch me, you sorry fuck.”
Nicostratus had just gotten out of the other car, and heard Cleo’s harsh comment. The Patriarch joined them with a smirk on his face.
“Is the bitch giving you trouble, Firmani?”
“No, Excellency.” Ignacio shook his head.
“How unfortunate. It might be quite pleasant disciplining her.”
“Who knew the Collegium’s Patriarch is into kink,” Cleo sneered. “The next thing you know someone is going to tell me how much he loves sucking cock.”
The minute Cleo’s crude comment rent the air, Nicostratus went white with fury. In a flash of movement, the Patriarch closed the distance between him and Cleo and slapped her hard. The blow wasn’t so much a surprise as the strength of it.
Cleo could have sworn a fucking hammer had slammed into her jaw as her head jerked to the side from the blow Nicostratus delivered to her face. Who knew the Patriarch didn’t have a sense of humor? If her hands hadn’t been bound at her wrists, she would have slugged the bastardo. Instead, she had to settle for glaring at his back as he walked away from the vehicle she was standing next to.
The soft thud of a car door made her jump. It was a vivid reminder of how she’d been hustled in and out of a Praetorian vehicle twice now in less than twenty-four hours. The first time had been at the Sicari installation when Ignacio had used her as a human shield. After throwing her into a car, he’d remained silent the entire time she’d blasted him with her angry words.
When they’d arrived at the Collegium’s complex, he’d given an order she couldn’t make out then walked away without looking back. For some reason, that action hurt even more than finding out he was a traitor. Furious, she’d decked both of her guards before three more showed up to knock her senseless.