Angel's Assassin

by Laurel O'Donnell

  Behind him, a shadow separated from the wall and came forward, the glint of a dagger shining off the light in the hallway.

  The whispery kiss of a sharp blade hissed across his throat. Pain followed the slice and Alexander lifted his hand to his neck. Blood flowed quick and free from the fatal cut. He tried to stem it, pressing his hand to his throat, but there was no stopping the wet stream spreading through, and down, his fingers. He stumbled and fell to his knees, swinging the sword wildly in desperation to ward off anyone near him. The blade only cut through empty air.

  As darkness crept in at the corners of his vision, a man stepped forward, not the man he had expected, but another man. A man with the same eyes as Damien.

  Alexander took a final gurgling breath. He wouldn’t be able to save Aurora. She was the last thought he had before his body went limp.

  ***

  Aurora knelt on the stone floor of the chapel, her head bowed with the weight of her guilt. Oh, she had sinned. She deserved to be punished for what she allowed Damien to do to her. Kiss her. Touch her. She clasped her hands so tightly her knuckles burned. The worst sin of all was to have these feelings for him! To want to kiss him. To look for him wherever she went.

  She bowed her head over her hands and prayed for guidance and strength.

  Ormand had departed the castle without another word. Sir Harold and the other two knights had confessed their role in the plot. They were banished from Acquitaine. Her father was being generous. They should have been fined. They should have been hung to the highest rafter for threatening to hurt Damien. She cast a glance over her shoulder. Damien had gratefully given her this time alone, standing respectfully near the wall of the chapel. Even now, she could see his darker form amidst the shadows. She knew he was watching her. A tingle of awareness ignited her body.

  She faced the altar once again. While she couldn’t see him clearly, she could feel his gaze upon her every moment, like a gentle caress. His touch came unbidden to her memory and heat rushed through her body. Aurora remembered his brazen caress. She remembered his hot kiss. She had been intoxicated by his nearness. The feelings she had for him were wrong. They were images and feelings she should have only for her husband! She was Lady of Acquitaine, above such indiscretions. Aurora the saint. Aurora the virtuous. She had heard those whispers behind her back. She bowed her head, tightening her entwined hands, and prayed.

  She wasn’t above having those feelings. Not since Damien…

  She didn’t know what to do. She knew she should not be near Damien, the enticement of him was too much for her to resist. Yet, God help her, even with the traitorous image of he and Helen kissing, she could barely stand his absence. She had never met a man like him.

  After about an hour, Damien joined her, kneeling beside her. “What could you possibly be praying for this long?”

  Aurora lowered her folded hands from her forehead. “I do not believe that is any of your concern.”

  “If you were my angel, I would forgive you anything,” Damien whispered softly.

  Aurora turned to him, startled.

  “Will you forgive me?” he whispered.

  His dark eyes were full of vulnerability and an intensity that touched her. “It is not my duty to cast judgment.”

  “And yet you hold my transgression against me. Isn’t your God supposed to forgive anything?”

  Aurora’s eyebrows rose. “My God? Don’t you worship God?”

  Damien raised his eyes to the cross above the altar of the chapel. “I believe I’m already in hell.”

  His statement shocked Aurora, but she remembered the scars on his back. “There must have been some good in your life.”

  Damien’s gaze swiveled to her. “You’re the closest thing to heaven I’ve ever known.”

  Stunned, she could only stare into his dark eyes. The honesty in his words touched her heart. They were humbling and flattering. And yet, if she was the closest thing he had ever known to heaven, what kind of horrible life had he lived?

  Her gaze dropped to his lips. She was not heavenly. Because if she was, she wouldn’t be jealous of Helen. She would be able to give him the forgiveness he sought. She couldn’t think clearly when he was so near. She wanted to forgive him. She wanted to touch him. But the painful image wouldn’t fade from her mind. Her mind was cluttered with doubts and betrayal.

  Aurora rose and left the chapel.

  ***

  Aurora strolled past the Great Hall and saw Jennifer hurrying through the large double doors toward her. She bowed her head. She didn’t think she could face Jennifer just now. But her cousin took up pace beside her.

  “Are you all right?” she asked quietly.

  Aurora nodded. She was always all right. For her people.

  “I’m so sorry about Count Ormand.”

  Aurora nodded, without looking at her cousin. She wasn’t sorry about Ormand. Not after what he had attempted. His motives were anything but gallant.

  Jennifer hooked her arm through Aurora’s and led her into the stairway. “It will be fine, you’ll see. Count Ormand was not the man for you.”

  Aurora remained silent. She didn’t want to spread rumors about his arrogance or his selfishness.

  They moved up the spiral stairway together.

  Aurora knew Damien was following, but she couldn’t hear his footsteps.

  When they emerged from the enclosed stairway, Jennifer said, “Jeffrey is an honorable man, you know that. But about a month ago, a woman said that he had made advances to her.”

  Startled, Aurora looked at her. “You didn’t tell me…”

  Jennifer shrugged. “Jeffrey and I had to work it out ourselves. Jeffrey was not at fault. In the course of trying to be kind to her and not hurt her feelings, his manners were misinterpreted as affection.”

  Aurora scowled. “Then everything worked out?”

  “In the end, yes.” Jennifer pulled her close. “I see the way you look at Damien,” she whispered.

  And then Aurora understood. “You spoke to Helen.”

  Jennifer squeezed Aurora’s arm. “Helen wants every man to love her. She isn’t happy unless she has the man she can’t have.”

  The image of Damien and Helen kissing came to Aurora’s mind, followed closely by the sting of betrayal.

  “And I see the way he looks at you,” Jennifer said.

  Aurora swallowed a lump in her throat. “You are mistaken,” she said with all the bravado she could muster. “He must love Helen. He was kissing her.”

  Shocked, Jennifer looked at her. Slowly, her face transformed to sympathy and a compassionate grin tugged at her lips. “A kiss does not mean love.”

  Aurora looked down, refusing to let her cousin see the tears and pain this caused her. Damien had kissed her.

  “Are you so sure it was not Helen doing the kissing? From what I’ve seen, Damien wants nothing to do with her. He has eyes only for you.”

  Her words only brought Aurora more pain. They were not true. They could not be true. “You must be mistaken.”

  “Why? Why can’t a man like Damien love you?”

  Aurora looked at her and she couldn’t hide the doubt and the pain festering in her soul. “Because if he did, he would not have kissed Helen.”

  Jennifer tilted her head as if in understanding and placed a gentle hand against her cheek.

  “She loves him now. And she is my cousin. I cannot stand in her way.”

  “Aurora,” Jennifer began. “Helen loves a new man every week. She doesn’t know how to love.”

  She shook her head firmly, casting a glance at Damien. “He doesn’t believe in love anyway. He told me so.”

  Jennifer sighed softly. “I think you are mistaken.”

  A shrill scream echoed through the hallway and a servant girl name Elizabeth appeared from one of the rooms down the hall.

  Damien immediately went to Aurora’s side, his sword drawn as the servant ran toward them.

  The young girl was visibly trembling, her
brown eyes as wide as a frightened deer. “M’lady!” she screamed and stopped before Aurora.

  “What is it?” Aurora asked, gripping her upper arms.

  “He’s dead,” Elizabeth said, looking back at the room. “Killed.”

  “Who is it?” Aurora asked.

  Elizabeth shook her head, pressing her fingers to her lips.

  Aurora’s breath seized in her throat. “My—“

  Elizabeth quickly stopped her. “It’s not your father.”

  Aurora’s gaze snapped back to the room, then to Elizabeth. She finally took a breath. “Go get him. Go find my father,” she said to the servant girl and picked up her skirts to move down the hall.

  Elizabeth raced down the hallway.

  Damien halted Aurora with a firm grip on her arm. “I’ll go. Stay here with Lady Jennifer.”

  Aurora opened her mouth to reply, but closed it and nodded.

  Damien moved forward.

  “Who is it? What do you think happened?” Jennifer asked.

  Aurora took a step down the hall as Damien paused to remove a torch from the wall and disappeared into the room. Aurora’s heart pounded as she waited for him to emerge. She took an anxious step forward. Jennifer was speaking, but Aurora wasn’t listening. All she knew was that Damien was taking far too long to come out. She took another step forward. And then another.

  She had almost reached the door when Damien emerged, blocking her path. “Where’s your father?”

  The relief that swept over her at the sight of Damien’s safety evaporated. She did not like the grim look on Damien’s face. “What happened?”

  “Another assassin was here.”

  Aurora moved forward.

  Damien put his arms on her arms. “You don’t want to go in.”

  Aurora looked at him. His sword was sheathed, so there was no longer an immediate threat. His brow was furrowed in concern. Urgency filled her. “Who is it?”

  “No,” he answered, his grip tightening as she tried to step into the room.

  Despite his hold, she surged forward into the room, stopping in the doorway.

  Alexander lay on the floor in a pool of blood.

  For a moment, Aurora couldn’t understand. Alexander? She stood, uncertainly. In disbelief. It was Alexander. But how could that be? He was strong. He could take care of himself. She stepped forward. Everything seemed distant, fogged as if in a dream. There was blood around his head, blood staining his fingers, blood pooled on the floor. His eyes were open. She shook her head. Why wasn’t he getting up?

  She stepped on something and looked down. A pile of clothing lay on the floor. Possibly where Elizabeth had dropped it when she discovered… Alexander’s dead body.

  “Aurora,” Damien called.

  She looked back at Damien, numb. He was just behind her. He lifted his hands toward her, but she turned back to Alexander.

  Her chest constricted in a powerful spasm of agony. Tears rushed into her eyes as she fought to understand. Calm, she told herself. Stay calm. Jennifer is in the hallway.

  There was a reason. Of course, there was a reason. Aurora stood over her friend, staring down at him. But this made no sense.

  She saw the cut in his throat. A thin slice smothered in blood. The wound was just like the one she remembered on her mother’s throat. Just like her mother’s.

  Why would Alexander have been killed? Why?

  The cut was thin. Precise. Professional.

  A cold realization washed over her.

  Alexander had discovered who the assassin was and the assassin knew it.

  And that meant the assassin was still here, lurking inside the walls of Castle Acquitaine.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Damien moved up beside Aurora as she stood looking out over the dark waters. He had accompanied her as she retreated from the grisly sight of her slain friend to the comfortable confines of the tower.

  She stared out at the ocean. Tendrils of her golden hair whipped about her face like a cape. When lightning speared the sky, it threw a turbulence of light and dark shadows across her face. He saw the vulnerability in her eyes, saw the rippling of unshed tears. And then the streak of lightning disappeared, plunging her features again into blackness. Thunder rumbled above them.

  “Why did you kiss me?” she wondered.

  The abrupt question seemed out of place, but he knew she was trying to force her mind away from the gruesome scene she had just witnessed.

  Lightning flashed in the distance, growing closer every second. The wind picked up around her, snapping her hair behind her. Damien watched the strands fly about her face, the face that sent his dark intentions soaring toward a bright light, toward a radiance that offered a shimmering ray of hope. She had a face that was simply mesmerizing to look at. The delicate, yet strong and regal, line of her jaw. The cheekbones of a Greek goddess. The lips that created the most sensual mouth any man could ever imagine. A mouth that created a voice that would humble any Siren.

  “Was it to punish me? Was it to teach me something?” she asked

  “To tempt you.”

  “Tempt me?” she echoed, confused.

  “I wanted you to be like me,” he answered truthfully. She deserved to know the truth in her last moments. “I wanted you to be flawed, weak. I wanted you to be like everyone else.”

  She faced him and Damien was shocked to find vulnerability in her large eyes, a deep sadness. “You are my weakness.”

  Shock speared through Damien. Me? he silently questioned. Why on earth would I be her weakness? But her words rang true. He remembered the look of concern in her eyes when she realized the arrow had poisoned him. He recalled the way she lifted her lips to his when he tempted her. Could it be? Could she truly mean what she said? Damien lifted his hand to brush one of those golden tendrils from her cheek. It encircled his hand. No. It couldn’t be. It was her grief talking. She needed someone, anyone to distract her from her pain. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

  For a moment, she stiffened, but then she relaxed against his body. The tight expression on her face melted into one of anguish.

  Damien’s heart twisted at her pain. He wanted to relieve her agony, to reassure her. He bent his head to her lips.

  For a moment, she responded to his kiss, her hands sliding up his back in encouragement, her lips parting for his exploration. She suddenly broke the kiss. Her sad eyes lifted to his. “This is not possible,” she said as thunder sounded above her.

  The wind whipped up, tossing their hair, entwining it together above them, around them. The wind seemed to push them tighter together, or maybe it was just Damien’s hold pulling them nearer.

  “I can’t,” she whimpered to the forces around them, to Damien.

  Damien couldn’t let her go. He could not release her. His hands trembled. She means nothing to you, a voice inside mocked. Take her now. Have her. Use her. Then, once you taste her, once you take her, she will be as black as you. And you can forget her.

  Damien recognized the voice, the shadowy voice that had led him through the darkness all these years, the beastly influence that kept him in shadow. Alone. He wanted to do as the voice said. He wanted to take Aurora and use her body. He knew he could easily seduce her. He could have her. It would be child’s play. Because she wanted him. Because he was her weakness.

  He faltered as he stared into her tormented eyes. It would be her destruction. Damien knew to take her would be the wrong thing to do. The evil thing. She was so pure and innocent. And naïve. But damn it, he wanted her. He wanted her more than he ever wanted anything in his life. And he was far from noble.

  Large drops of rain began to fall, slowly at first, peppering the stones around them.

  Damien pulled her closer, almost protectively. Aurora did not resist.

  “Will you go to Helen if I stop you now?” she asked.

  Her question froze him. Was this a sacrifice? His gaze swept her f
ace. Trusting. Sincere. “No,” he whispered. “Never.” He pressed his lips to hers, searing them across her skin. His palm cupped her full, rounded breast.

  A soft gasp escaped her lips, almost a sob.

  He kneaded her and caressed her and squeezed her until he could feel her nipple harden beneath the fabric. “I want only you,” Damien whispered the heated oath against her lips. “There can be no other.”

  The rain began in earnest, a torrential downpour.

  He dipped a hand into her dress to feel the fullness of her breast. Her flesh was hot against his fingers. The cool rain was not enough to douse the burning flames roaring through his entire body.

  Aurora clung to him. “Please, Damien,” she whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

  Her plea shocked him and he pulled back to look into her eyes. Hurt her? He had never meant to hurt her. “I’m so sorry,” he proclaimed softly.

  “As am I,” a voice said from behind them.

  Damien’s head exploded in pain and his world went black.

  ***

  The fog slowly cleared from Damien’s mind and he sluggishly opened his eyes. Helen bent over him, her brow wrinkled in concern. She brushed the hair from his forehead.

  Damien pulled away from her instinctively. A sharp pain pierced the crown of his head and he reached up to feel a large, tender bump on his skull. He winced as his fingers probed it. Where had he gotten this? He froze.

  Aurora!

  He bolted upright only to have the room become a swirling blur. He closed his eyes, rubbing his head. “Where is Lady Aurora?” he demanded.

  “We can’t find her.”

  Damien’s eyes flew open. The pain in his head flared and black spots swam before his eyes. He closed them, rubbing them, willing himself to ignore the searing ache behind them. “What do you mean you can’t find her? Who’s looking for her?”

  Helen put a hand on his arm, helping to steady him. “Everyone. Lady Aurora’s been missing since we found you yesterday in the northern tower.”