Angel's Assassin

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Except for you,” Damien corrected. As he spoke he realized how right he was. The beast rose inside him, angry. He reached up and disentangled her hands from his neck so he could move away from her. “She is kinder than you are. She is more beautiful.”

  Helen straightened her back, her eyes narrowing, snapping with fire and hate.

  “You can not stand living in her shadow.”

  “You can’t imagine how it is. Every man looking at her first. Every man speaking with her as though I do not exist. All she has to do is smile and they fall over themselves to get to her.”

  Damien saw the true ugliness of jealousy in Helen’s narrowed eyes. He saw the evil in her, the hate and bitterness.

  Helen’s chin dropped. “All I’ve ever wanted was for one man to look at me. To speak to me. Not as a way to get to Lady Aurora, but because they truly wanted to.”

  Damien felt no sympathy for her, not when she was using him to hurt Aurora.

  “But she is always there,” Helen added as if to herself. “So beautiful. So kind. When they cannot have her, they come to me. Do you know that some of them even call out her name as they are making love to me?” She turned suddenly to Damien and ran a hand up his arm. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

  Damien suppressed a shudder. “No,” he answered. “Because I have no intention of bedding you.”

  Helen snatched her hand away from Damien. “You are just as bad as the rest of them. You pretend to be so strong and so indifferent. But you sniff after her skirts, too. Don’t you know by now that she is the immaculate angel? You won’t be able to touch her anymore than the rest of them. She is the ice maiden.” Helen’s grin was sardonic.

  Damien knew how wrong she was. Aurora was no ice maiden. He had glimpsed her fiery passion, tasted her hot desire.

  Helen touched his chest, moving her hand slowly across the expanse. “Come to my bed. Call my name.”

  Damien took her wrists and removed her hands from him. “I will not be a pawn in your plan to hurt Aurora.”

  Helen folded her hands before her. For a moment, she appeared truly vulnerable. “If it had nothing to do with her…would you come to my bed?”

  “No,” he answered. “You are not appealing to me. Your malice has made you ugly.” He turned his back on her, leaving the room.

  “I don’t need you to make love to me,” Helen called out after him, “for Lady Aurora to believe it is so.”

  The spiteful wench. She would tell Aurora they had been together. Damien clenched his teeth. Just to hurt Aurora. Just to harm him. Just because she could. Because of Aurora’s innocence, because of her trusting nature, Aurora would believe her. Damien had no doubt of that. He had been foolish to believe Helen had information about the attempt on Aurora’s life. He should have known it was a ploy to get him away from Aurora.

  Damien rounded the corner and a sudden surge of terror speared through his heart. The door to Aurora’s room was open wide. He quickened his pace until he was running at full speed. He burst into the room, throwing his arm around the doorframe to stop himself at the room’s threshold. “Aurora!”

  The room was quiet, eerily quiet. The bed was neatly made and there was no obvious sign of disturbance visible anywhere in the room. “Aurora?” he called out again, quieter this time. He took a few steps deeper into the room. “Aurora?”

  A red-haired servant woman strolled by the room, carrying an armful of dirty linens.

  Damien approached her. “Have you seen Lady Aurora?”

  The servant stopped and looked at him. She puckered her lips, shifting the linen in her arms. “No. I have not seen her since yesterday morning.” The servant looked at him earnestly. “Have you misplaced her?”

  Damien’s hand shot instinctively to the sword at his waist. Damn insolent wench, he thought as his fingers curled around the leather handle of his weapon.

  Her eyes widened and she took a step away from him.

  “Don’t you have linens to clean?” he said through gritted teeth, keeping his voice even.

  The servant woman nodded and scurried away down the corridor.

  Damien hurried on. He moved quickly through the castle, searching for Aurora. He did not ask anyone else if they had seen her. He was determined to track her down on his own. She was his responsibility. He tried to push down the concern eating away at his stomach. He had done this. He had frightened her. He went into the kitchens, but there was no one there except for an older man baking bread with an apprentice.

  Damien searched everywhere he could think of. The chapel was dotted with praying castle folk, but no Aurora. The solar was empty. With every second, the feeling of impending doom knotting his stomach grew.

  After an hour’s search, he headed outside into the inner courtyard, desperate and anxious to find her. He passed a perpendicular hallway and noticed Rupert standing with his arms crossed at the doorway to one of the rooms. What the devil was he doing?

  He moved down the hall and stood in front of the guard. Rupert stared back with a bored expression. The door behind him was ajar. Damien eased it open.

  Aurora sat behind a desk in a dark room lit only by one candle, its golden glow washing over her delicate skin. Her hand was on her forehead as she stared down at a piece of parchment. Muted firelight reflected over her golden hair. She had braided her locks again, hiding the glorious treasure in a tightly bound rope. The rebuff did not miss him. That simple rejection wounded him. He stepped into the room.

  She lifted her eyes.

  Damien almost gasped. The vulnerability in her red eyes stabbed his gut, taking the breath from him. Black rings lined her large eyes. Lines marred her forehead. Instinctively, he stepped toward her.

  Her back straightened, her lips closed into a firm line. Her fingers tightened around a quill. “Go away, Damien,” she whispered.

  The agony in her voice tore at his heart. What had he done? This couldn’t be in response to his touch, could it? He didn’t move. He couldn’t. “You should rest,” he finally suggested. “Come.” He held out his hand to her.

  She took her gaze from him and looked back at the parchment. Her jaw angled in stubbornness. “Rupert will take me where I want to go. You are no longer needed,” she said with a tone of regality.

  Damien looked over his shoulder. Rupert stood by the door, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Or wanted.” Aurora curved an arm about the parchment as if preventing him from looking at even that.

  ***

  Count Ormand entered the solar and bowed before Lord Gabriel where he stood before the hearth. “It is good to see you, Lord Gabriel. I’m sure you want to thank me for finding Lady Aurora –”

  Lord Gabriel turned and held up a hand.

  Ormand didn’t like the serious look lining Gabriel’s face. “I would have come earlier, but I am having difficulty with –”

  “You should have been here after the first attempt on Aurora’s life,” Gabriel said wearily. “For someone who claims to want to see to her safety, you are sadly lacking.”

  “Lord Gabriel, I assure you nothing is farther from the truth! I left upon hearing word –”

  Gabriel shook his head. “Let us drop pretense, Ormand. I am troubled by your lack of priorities.”

  “You are wrong! I came as soon as I heard!”

  “No, Ormand. You came as soon as it was convenient for you. Aurora’s happiness, even her life, have never been a priority where you are concerned. Her dowry, her lands, those are your priority.”

  Ormand placed a hand over his chest. “You wound me! I care deeply for your daughter. She is stunning and worthy of a man such as myself.”

  Gabriel stared at him for a long moment. “Aurora deserves devotion and joy and love. Can you give her any of those?”

  Ormand grit his teeth. “I am the strongest man in England. She is the loveliest woman in the country. She belongs at my side.”

  “Your bravado does not give me comfort for my daughter’s happines
s,” Lord Gabriel said. “I am annulling our arrangement, Ormand. The betrothal offer is withdrawn. You will not marry my daughter.”

  Ormand’s fists clenched. “I will not allow you to do this.”

  “I already have.”

  Ormand stood for a moment, his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. Finally, he whirled, storming away.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Aurora concentrated on the parchment and the tally marks next to the names. She had been working on it for half of the day and had made progress before Damien’s entrance. It had been lucky she ran into Sir Rupert in the hallway. He had escorted her to the tally room and stood guard while she worked. But now, all her concentration was gone.

  Damien had backed away from her and took up a position near the door. He leaned against the wall, his arms resting casually at his side.

  Aurora wished he would just go and leave her in peace. Instead, his intense gaze caused goose bumps to pepper her arms. She refused to acknowledge his presence. No matter how much she tried to focus on the parchment, the image of Damien kissing Helen, pressing his lips to hers, continued to resurface. Her heart twisted, tightening in her chest until tears formed in her eyes. Foolish, foolish girl. What did you expect? Damien told you all along he didn’t believe in love. Her hands trembled and she gripped the quill tightly, leaning over the parchment. He kissed Helen! a voice inside her screamed.

  She picked up a grouping of sticks and began to count them, her mind not really in the work.

  Betrayal burned Aurora’s heart, searing agony through the rest of her body. She did not want to look up. She did not want to stop working. She stubbornly sat in the chair until the bell for the evening meal tolled. Fatigue crushed her, pulling her shoulders down and drooping her eyelids. She sighed and organized the sticks and parchment before standing. She had not slept the entire night. She stepped from behind the desk and swept past Damien to face Rupert. “I will retire now,” she said and tried to keep her shoulders straight.

  Rupert shifted and glanced down the hall towards the kitchens.

  Aurora knew the poor man was hungry. He had loyally stayed with her the entire day. No matter how much she didn’t want him to, she knew Damien would see her safely to her room. And as much as she didn’t want to be alone with him, she couldn’t deny Sir Rupert his meal any longer. “Go and eat,” she advised with a patient grin. “When you are done, return to my chambers.”

  He bowed slightly. “Thank you, m’lady.” He turned and then paused, glancing back at her. “Can I bring you anything?”

  Aurora half-grinned. “No. Thank you.” She watched him move away down the hall before turning toward her chambers.

  “Aurora.” Damien’s voice was soft and askance.

  She increased her pace.

  “You can’t ignore me forever.”

  She kept her chin stiff, her eyes rigidly on the corridor ahead of her.

  “Let me…” He reached out, his large hand encircling her arm.

  She yanked herself free of his touch violently. “Do not touch me.”

  Damien’s face fell, stunned. He held his hands out before her. “What have I done?”

  Her gaze swept his face, and the image of Helen in his arms came immediately to her mind. She looked away from him, unable to meet his gaze. “Nothing. You did nothing.”

  “Except save you three times.”

  “Except do what you are being paid to do.”

  His brows furrowed and his gaze swept her. “That’s not what this is about. What is it?”

  Aurora looked away from him. “I needed you to escort me to the tally room. Where were you?”

  Damien’s eyes hardened. “I believe you were the one that locked me out.”

  Aurora straightened. “I didn’t want to give up my soul.”

  “Only your lips.” He ran a finger along her jaw.

  She pulled away. “I’m glad I locked you out. If I had not you might have…” Her voice trailed off and her cheeks flamed red.

  “Go ahead. Say it. I would have had my way with you. Someone should. Lord knows you need a good romp to knock you off that pedestal everyone puts you on.”

  Stunned, Aurora could only stare. That was all she was to him. She allowed him to kiss her and touch her in ways no man had ever done before, and all he wanted to do was knock her from a blasted pedestal! Her eyes shimmered with hurt and rage. “You do not need me to make love to. You can get any woman you want. Maybe Helen can satisfy your rutting lust.”

  His dark eyes flared and then narrowed. “Someone should teach you how to hide your jealousy.”

  “Jealousy? You flatter yourself,” Aurora answered. “Disapproval is more the word I would use.”

  Damien smiled at her, but his upturned lips mocked her. “Disapproval? Disapproval may be the word you use, but it isn’t what I see in your eyes. It isn’t what I hear in your voice.”

  Aurora whirled to continue down the corridor.

  Damien moved into her path. “Would you mind telling me what you so disapprove of?”

  “I disapprove of the fact you were not available to do your job. I needed you to accompany me to the tally room and you were nowhere to be found.”

  A taunting grimace curved his lips. “And that’s all?”

  “Of course,” she answered quickly. “Is there something else I should disapprove of?”

  Damien’s gaze stroked her face like a slow smooth caress. Despite her resolve, tingles danced across her body in answer. Finally, Aurora looked away from him to a chip in one of the stones of the floor.

  “Helen made advances to me, but I refused what she wanted,” he whispered.

  Aurora’s anger surged forward. “You refused her? I saw you kissing her. I saw you.”

  “Spying on me?” Damien’s grin widened into a wolfish smile.

  Aurora jolted left and when he moved to block her path, she surged right and stalked down the hall, her fists clenched.

  Damien quickly followed her.

  She reached her door and dashed inside, pushing it closed behind her. Before she could lock herself in, Damien shoved the door open, throwing her back. He entered the room and slowly shut the door behind him. “Our conversation isn’t over.”

  Aurora straightened her back.

  Damien stood where he was, the firelight from the hearth washing over him, making him look more demonic than any man she had ever known. Dark, dangerous and seething. He stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. “Tell me what is really bothering you,” he commanded.

  Aurora’s heart pounded in her chest. “Lady Helen is my cousin. You are not to hurt her.”

  Damien didn’t move, didn’t breathe for a long moment. His lip curled in angry contempt and his dark eyes snapped as he stalked toward her. “You are always so good,” he accused, his words dripping with hostile accusation. “Always thinking of others. So pure. So virginal.”

  His tone made the words degrading and horrible, not honorable. What he said was true. She was everything he said. She had to be.

  He tracked to her left. “Never thinking of yourself.” He moved behind her like a wolf circling its prey. “Every man who sees you wants you because you are so damned untouchable. The pinnacle of godliness. The glorious, unsullied angel.”

  Aurora stood, motionless, as he tortured her with his words of ugly kindness.

  He continued his stalking. “You like that power. To be cherished and adored, but never touched. The power you hold over men. The power of your beauty.”

  “You think I like that?” Aurora demanded in a thick voice. “Do you think I like the reverence others give me?”

  “Yes,” Damien hissed. “You do. It’s your power. And you play the role of saint well. Giving yourself for the good of your people. For others.”

  Her chest heaved and tears rose in her eyes, blurring her vision. “You think I like having to do that? Being a lady? Being a figurehead to all these people? Always level headed. Always calm to dole out justice.” Her lips quiv
ered. “Never able to be angry. Or hate. Do you think I didn’t want to rip out Helen’s heart when I saw you with her? I wanted to dismiss her. I wanted her far away so you could not kiss her again. So that you could not touch her. But I could not do that. I am a lady. I am --” Her voice broke, her body shuddering with a sob. “-- above that.”

  “No, you are not,” Damien whispered, stopping inches before her. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t be standing before me with tears in your eyes and pain in your heart.”

  She recoiled from him, from the truth in his words, and stared at him, trembling in body and spirit. Tears rolled down her cheeks. For the first time in her life, she knew she was not above anger or hate. The wretched agony in her heart made her want revenge, made her want to hurt Damien as he had her.

  “It’s called jealousy, Aurora,” he told her, softly.

  Her body trembled, wracked with sobs of anguish. No. No, she could not be jealous. She was betrothed! She could not have feelings for Damien! She did not want them! He would use them to hurt her.

  Suddenly, a knock sounded softly at the door.

  Damien was at her side, his hand on her wrist. “Yes?”

  “It is Count Ormand.” The arrogant voice sounded offended even through the thick wood of the door. “It is urgent.”

  Aurora looked at Damien through blurred vision.

  He lifted a hand, running his thumb across her cheeks to clear the tears. He jerked his head at the basin near the bed. “Go rinse your face,” he said softly.

  Aurora moved to the basin and splashed her face with water, trying desperately to get control of her emotions. They spun inside of her like a tornado of confusion. She grabbed a nearby cloth and wiped at her face.

  “What do you want?” Damien demanded as he opened the door to face Ormand.

  Aurora heard Ormand’s quick response, “Lord Gabriel wishes to speak with you in the stables.”

  Damien cast a glance over his shoulder at Aurora, meeting her gaze.

  “I will stay with Lady Aurora until you return,” Ormand insisted. “By Lord Gabriel’s orders.”