Assassin's Heart (17 page)
Authors: Monica Burns
She stopped and sat down on the floor and removed the offending footwear. With one hand on the chair closest to her, she pulled herself upright, and tugged her sweater up over her head. Behind her, she heard Lysander draw in a sharp breath and she turned to face him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you planning on stripping on your way to the bedroom?”
“I don’t know. It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” she said bitterly at the disapproving note in his voice. “Are you planning on watching?”
An odd emotion flashed across his face, but it disappeared before she could name it.
Arms folded across his chest, he shook his head. “I’m here to make sure you get into bed without knocking yourself out. You’ve had a tough day, and you’re more than a little drunk.”
“I’m tipsy.
Not
drunk,” she snapped.
Maybe she was a little drunk. Could he blame her? She spun around, intent on going to her bedroom, only to stumble and fall backward. The warmth of him penetrated her flesh as he stopped her fall and swung her up into his arms. Her palm pressed into his chest, where the rapid beat of his heart thundered beneath her fingers. She sighed. He was right. She’d had a tough day, but when he held her like this, she felt safe, and nothing else mattered. The moment they entered her bedroom, tension flooded his body. Almost immediately, he set her down and nodded toward the bed.
“Into bed, Phaedra. Now.”
She stared up at him. The man made her crazy. Even though he’d refused her healing touch, it didn’t change the fact that he’d been there for her today. She still didn’t want him to go. The truth was she didn’t want to be alone. If he’d just stay with her, she’d feel safe. She stretched out her hand and pressed her fingers into his chest as she studied his stoic yet grim expression.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered. “I need … you make me feel safe.”
Tension etched his features into a tight mask, and he inhaled a deep breath. “Let me get Cleo to come stay with you.”
“
No.
Forget I asked.” Determined not to let him know how helpless she was feeling at the moment, she turned away from him and stumbled toward the bed. “Just go.”
No.
Forget I asked.” Determined not to let him know how helpless she was feeling at the moment, she turned away from him and stumbled toward the bed. “Just go.”
She fumbled with the snap and zipper of her jeans before hobbling her way out of the pants. Behind her, Lysander made a choked noise before the warmth of his large hand settled on her shoulder.
Chapter 10
THE minute he touched her, Lysander knew he was on thin ice.
Il Christi omnipotentia.
He’d never seen her this fragile before. He swallowed hard as she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. The minute her gaze met his, her eyes grew watery. At that moment, he knew he’d lost the battle to leave her.
Il Christi omnipotentia.
He’d never seen her this fragile before. He swallowed hard as she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. The minute her gaze met his, her eyes grew watery. At that moment, he knew he’d lost the battle to leave her.
“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he murmured as he brushed a teardrop off her cheek.
A quiet sob passed her lips before she spun around completely and pressed her warmth into him. The bliss and torment that flooded his body at having her in his arms again was enough to drive him crazy. And it wasn’t just desire that made him tug her body snug against his. His arms wrapped around her, the silky warmth of her skin heating his fingertips. Resting his chin on the top of her head, he waited for her crying to stop. He was going to kill the
bastardo
that had assaulted her. Her sobs finally ebbing away, she tipped her head back to look up at him.
bastardo
that had assaulted her. Her sobs finally ebbing away, she tipped her head back to look up at him.
“I feel safer with you here.”
The fact that she trusted him so completely, despite his brutal rejection a year ago, was enough to make him feel as though someone were gutting him with a sword. It was humbling in so many ways.
“He can’t get to you here, Phaedra.”
“Realistically, I know that,” she whispered. “I just don’t think I can forget.”
“You won’t forget, but the fear will ease.”
The minute she reached up to lightly touch the scars on his face, he stiffened. She blinked the tears off her long lashes as she gently traced her fingers over the grotesque side of his face.
“Were you afraid?”
The softly spoken question startled him, and he swallowed hard. Atia hadn’t even dared to ask him that, nor had he allowed himself to remember what those terrible hours had been like before Cleo was hovering over him. A shudder went through him as the memories engulfed him with a savage fury. His jaw locked with a painful tension, he nodded.
“Yes,” he ground out between clenched teeth.
Afraid?
Merda
, he’d been terrified, consumed with rage and guilt at how helpless he was as he listened to Dominic’s agonizing shrieks or felt the terror vibrating off Marta. Even now, he could feel the rope biting into his wrists as he tried to free himself. The drug the Praetorians had given him had suppressed his abilities, but it hadn’t eliminated the pain. The deaths of his friends would always be on his conscience despite everyone telling him he couldn’t have known they were entering a Praetorian stronghold.
Merda
, he’d been terrified, consumed with rage and guilt at how helpless he was as he listened to Dominic’s agonizing shrieks or felt the terror vibrating off Marta. Even now, he could feel the rope biting into his wrists as he tried to free himself. The drug the Praetorians had given him had suppressed his abilities, but it hadn’t eliminated the pain. The deaths of his friends would always be on his conscience despite everyone telling him he couldn’t have known they were entering a Praetorian stronghold.
“Lysander?”
The one-word question pulled him away from the dark memories as Phaedra’s hand cupped the scarred side of his face. Suddenly he realized he was trembling. As his gaze focused on her sweet features, he saw a gentle acceptance there that invited him to tell her everything. He immediately closed himself off to the possibility of revealing his inner torment. The last thing he needed was to let this woman inside his head, because if he did, he’d wind up showing her things he couldn’t bear for her to know. He caught her hand and gently pulled it away from his face.
“You need to sleep.” He nodded toward the bed. “You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
She nodded and allowed him to guide her toward the bed like a docile lamb. The only problem was she didn’t look like a lamb. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a woman look so damn tempting in his entire life. The wisps of red material covering her rounded buttocks and crossing her back tested his willpower like nothing else he’d ever experienced. A little off balance, she swayed slightly as she tugged her hair out of its braid until it tumbled across her soft shoulders. He buried the urge to pull her into his arms.
She slipped under the covers and curled up into a fetal position in the bed. The forlorn look about her made his heart ache, and his protective instincts went into overdrive. He’d keep her safe even if it meant giving his life for hers. He’d never tell her, but she was the most valuable thing in his life.
He stretched out his hand and mentally pulled one of the room’s chairs closer to the bed. The quiet scraping noise made her jerk upright in the bed. He immediately regretted not picking up the furniture to move it closer to the bedside. When she saw him settle into the chair, she slowly lay back down and closed her eyes. As he sat there watching her, he was struck again by how vulnerable she seemed.
A soft sigh eased out of her, and in a couple of minutes, she was asleep. His elbow resting on the arm of the chair, he rubbed the edge of his unscarred jaw as he watched her. He hadn’t lost just three team members in that Chicago warehouse last year. He’d lost Phaedra and the life he might have had with her.
The thought made his muscles grow hard with tension. He might have lost Phaedra, but he wasn’t about to let anyone hurt her. She thought a rogue Sicari had attacked her this morning, but she was wrong. The
bastardo
had to have been a Praetorian. Lysander had seen glimpses of the man, dressed as a clergyman, praying at a Church altar.
Worse, he’d seen the man standing by as men wearing the Praetorian emblem on their shoulders slaughtered an entire family. Sicari were merciful when they killed, and they didn’t kill children. Not only that, but the Praetorian could do more than just read minds. He had telekinetic abilities, too, and it made him uneasy.
His gut twisted as he remembered how the Praetorian had taunted him in his head while the son of a bitch had continued to touch Phaedra. Despite raising a mental shield against the man’s probing thoughts, the
bastardo
had seen how much Phaedra meant to him. It had amused the Praetorian, and he’d gloated in detail as to what he was going to do to Phaedra the minute he was alone with her. The anger inside him still burned hot and fiery.
bastardo
had seen how much Phaedra meant to him. It had amused the Praetorian, and he’d gloated in detail as to what he was going to do to Phaedra the minute he was alone with her. The anger inside him still burned hot and fiery.
He’d have to kill the man. Not for revenge, even though he wanted that really bad. But this wasn’t about retaliation. It was about protecting Phaedra and other Sicari. Most of all, it was about justice. The Sicari Code didn’t allow revenge killings, but it did allow him to protect the interests of the Order.
The problem was, this
bastardo’s
skills equaled his own. Perhaps even surpassed his? And he’d seen enough of the man’s thoughts to know that the sorry fuck would play as nasty as he could. It wasn’t going to be a fair fight, and the Praetorian would use his feelings for Phaedra against him. He knew it was probably a mistake to go after the man without backup. But how in the hell was he supposed to explain he’d read the Praetorian’s mind or mentally challenged the bastard to a fight? It had been agonizing to watch her trying to fight off the man’s invisible touch. The idea of any man caressing Phaedra was maddening. But to see someone touch her against her will made him feel helpless—and he’d had more than his share of not having control over things. The memory lashed at him with the sting of a whip.
bastardo’s
skills equaled his own. Perhaps even surpassed his? And he’d seen enough of the man’s thoughts to know that the sorry fuck would play as nasty as he could. It wasn’t going to be a fair fight, and the Praetorian would use his feelings for Phaedra against him. He knew it was probably a mistake to go after the man without backup. But how in the hell was he supposed to explain he’d read the Praetorian’s mind or mentally challenged the bastard to a fight? It had been agonizing to watch her trying to fight off the man’s invisible touch. The idea of any man caressing Phaedra was maddening. But to see someone touch her against her will made him feel helpless—and he’d had more than his share of not having control over things. The memory lashed at him with the sting of a whip.
He crushed the dark memories and tried to remember every detail he could that he might be able to use against the Praetorian. There were only a few hours for him to form a strategy before his appointment with Phaedra’s attacker. When he’d challenged the man, the Praetorian had filled his head with mocking laughter before finally agreeing. It hadn’t been one of his more lucid moments, but there hadn’t been much else he could do. He’d just have to find a way to beat the bastard.
He leaned forward in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. Like Phaedra, he’d thought a rogue Sicari was her attacker, and he’d automatically reached out with his thoughts to see if he could discover where the man was hiding. He’d been as surprised as the Praetorian to learn they could read each other’s thoughts.
He’d never run into a Praetorian like this one before. The man didn’t just have telepathic abilities. He had telekinetic powers as well. It worried him that the Praetorian might be stronger than him. One more reason why he might not survive to see the sunrise.
The strength of the man’s abilities had been surprising. That the sick bastard had
effortlessly tormented Phaedra while taunting him at the same time said the Praetorian had been toying with them. The man probably could have brought both of them to their knees.
It’s what made him think that maybe the legends were true. As a kid growing up in Atia’s house, he’d overheard plenty of conversations and thoughts that others hadn’t. Ones he probably shouldn’t have heard. Sicari Lords were legend among the Sicari, but he also remembered the mutterings about the Praetorian Dominus, whose abilities were similar to that of a Sicari Lord. Everything he’d ever heard, he’d taken with a grain of salt, and until today, he’d always discounted the possibility of a Dominus. Now he wasn’t so sure.
Phaedra made a soft noise and began to writhe on the bed. A moment later, he sprang to his feet as she screamed and shot upright in bed. He reached her in two quick strides and sank down onto the bed then pulled her into his arms. She was shaking so badly her teeth were chattering. He didn’t say anything, he just held her. As her trembling slowly subsided, she raised her head off his chest to look up at him.
“Better?” He eyed her carefully as she raked her fingers through her hair and nodded. “Then back into bed.”
“You’ll stay?”
“I’m not going anywhere for the moment.”
She slipped back under the covers and turned her back to him. Quietly, he returned to his chair and waited for her to fall asleep again. Every minute or two, she’d turn over in bed in an effort to achieve a more comfortable position. After about fifteen minutes, she sat up and sent him a pleading look.
“I know it’s a lot to ask … considering the way things are between us, but would you mind holding me until I go to sleep?” The request made him go still as a statue, and she immediately cringed with embarrassment. She waved her hand in dismissal. “It’s okay. Never mind.”
Frozen in his chair, he watched her fall back onto the mattress and turn her back to him.
Christus
, he needed to have his head examined for what he was about to do. Despite the warning going off in the back of his mind, he removed his boots and went to join her on the bed. She jerked her head to look over her shoulder as his weight shifted the mattress, and the gratitude in her beautiful brown eyes swelled his heart.
Christus
, he needed to have his head examined for what he was about to do. Despite the warning going off in the back of his mind, he removed his boots and went to join her on the bed. She jerked her head to look over her shoulder as his weight shifted the mattress, and the gratitude in her beautiful brown eyes swelled his heart.
Cautiously, he stretched out beside her and pulled her backside into his chest. The minute his arms wrapped around her, it was as if she’d never left his side. Her warmth pushed its way through his clothing until it penetrated his skin. Holding her like this was like walking into a burning building. There was no way he was going to come out unscathed.
She didn’t speak, and for that, he was thankful. Her tension reverberated through him for
several long minutes until she slowly relaxed. The minute she drifted off to sleep, he was able to relax himself.
Merda
, and he’d had the balls to think Atia was using questionable judgment in bringing Phaedra here. What the fuck was he doing? For more than a year, he’d managed to keep his distance from her, and in forty-eight hours, every bit of that wall he’d built between them was on the verge of collapse. He closed his eye.
Merda
, and he’d had the balls to think Atia was using questionable judgment in bringing Phaedra here. What the fuck was he doing? For more than a year, he’d managed to keep his distance from her, and in forty-eight hours, every bit of that wall he’d built between them was on the verge of collapse. He closed his eye.
Deus
, he was tired. Today had been a mental drain unlike any in recent memory. Phaedra’s attacker, her insistence on continuing with their task, fear for her safety, Pasquale’s obvious attraction to her—all of it had come to a head when Angelo had started talking about that ridiculous journal of
Consul
Julius.
, he was tired. Today had been a mental drain unlike any in recent memory. Phaedra’s attacker, her insistence on continuing with their task, fear for her safety, Pasquale’s obvious attraction to her—all of it had come to a head when Angelo had started talking about that ridiculous journal of
Consul
Julius.
The man had been dead more than two hundred years, and he didn’t want to hear some nonsense about a prophecy. He knew his reaction to the man’s discussion with Atia had made him look like a madman. Perhaps he was. He’d been hiding his mixed blood for more than a year now, and tonight’s dinner conversation had unnerved him.
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