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Authors: Monica Burns

BOOK: Assassin's Heart
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“The secret of the
Tyet of Isis is
sacred to the Guard. He knows that. It’s why we don’t
share a blood bond with a woman.” His disgust evident, he narrowed his gaze at her.
“What ability did your traitorous husband give you when he bonded with you?”
“Nothing. I have never been able to move objects or read minds.” If she’d received any
ability from Maximus, it was her talent for shielding her thoughts. She’d had no need of it
with Maximus, but she was grateful for his instruction now.
“And the box? Where is it?”
“I don’t know,” she lied.
“It will go easier for you if you simply cooperate.” The whisper in her head became a
harsh probe as he glared at her.
“Maximus didn’t tell me where he hid it.”

“You lie badly, me
a mellis
.”
She gasped as his words slithered through her head, while
his hand glided down to her breasts. Fear struck at her core as he shared a glimpse of
what he intended to do to her before he killed her. Frantically, she tried to strengthen the
wall of inane thoughts she’d placed around her secrets. His mocking laughter filled her

head. “Mea care
, Cassiopeia. My abilities are far more powerful than those of Maximus.
“

His mind probed deeper, and she struggled to push his thoughts out of her head. The
minute invisible fingers pulled the hem of her gown upward, her control slipped.
Maximus had incredible powers but he’d never used his abilities to force her to do
anything. Frantically, she tried to push the garment back down while keeping Octavian
from probing deeper. She failed, and a moment later a strong force shoved her backward
onto the bed.
“
I’m not your traitorous husband, me
a dulcis
. And it’s important you understand you can hide nothing from me. Not even the Tyet—ahh, so it’s in the Temple of Vesta. Thank you,
mea mellis.”

“Get out of my head, you
bastardo
.”

Anger roared through her blood as she pushed back against his mental probe. A moment
later, she knew he was no longer in her head. Whether it was because he’d withdrawn on
his own or she’d managed to push him out, she didn’t know. As she stared up at his face,
rage darkened his features. The sudden knock on the door followed by the entry of a
Praetorian Guardsman shot a bolt of relief through her.
“General Maximus and his troops arrived outside the city gates less than an hour ago.
He accepted the emperor’s terms of surrender.” The guard’s words made her heart leap
with joy. Maximus had come for her as she knew he would.
“Where is he now?” Octavian snapped.
“He entered the city shortly after surrendering what was left of his legions.”
“
Cak. ”
The single word of fury echoed through the chamber, and the Guardsman
reached for his throat as an invisible force slowly squeezed the air from his lungs. A
second later, the soldier was free of the unseen grasp. Octavian glared at the man
dragging in deep breaths of air. “He’ll search for his bitch first. Send a small contingent
of men to Maximus’s house to arrest him if he’s there. I’ll take several of the men to the
Temple of Vesta in the event he goes there first.”
The Praetorian nodded his head as he stood upright, and his fist hit his chest before his
arm flew outward in a salute. As the Guard headed toward the door, Octavian quickly
ordered him to halt and rubbed his chin in contemplation.
“If you find Maximus, kill him.” The words made her gasp in fear. Octavian shot her an
amused glance before meeting the soldier’s eyes. “But before you do, tell the traitor that
his wife … and unborn child … are to be burned at the stake for heresy.”

This time her gasp was one of horror. The
bastardo k
new about the baby. A wave of

intense fear swept over her. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live. Wanted her baby
to live. Octavian turned back to her and smiled. It was the smile of death, and she cried
out for Maximus.
PHAEDRA jerked awake as someone’s hand touched her arm. With a cry, she rolled away from the touch to come up in a crouch on the opposite side of her bed. The nightmare of Cassiopeia at Octavian’s mercy still vivid in her head, she blinked the sleep from her eyes to see Cleo watching her with concern.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a hoarse voice.

“Mother gave me instructions to watch over you for a few hours. You were crying out in your sleep, so I thought it best to wake you.”

She relaxed slightly and leaned back against the headboard. Her hands shoving her hair out of her eyes, she stared at her friend. Cleo had spared Lysander’s life at the Circus Maxentius, and she wasn’t sure why. Cleo rarely gave anyone a second chance, but Phaedra was glad she’d given Lysander one. She winced.
What was she thinking? The man had hidden the truth from her. From all of them. And the worst of it was, a small part of her had known. All of the little moments when he’d always seemed to know what she was thinking. She’d put it down to a special connection between them, but now she saw it for what it was.
He’d been reading her mind all this time. It was a violation. He wasn’t any better than that son-of-a-bitch Praetorian called Gabriel. The knowledge sent a fiery pain through her blood until it seared every inch of her body with pain. He’d betrayed her. Betrayed them all.
“Okay, I know you’re angry, but he’s got a good explanation.” Cleo’s words echoed softly in the room. She shook her head.
“Explanation?” She released a hiss of air from between her teeth. “There is no explanation. How much damage has he done spying on us?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Cleo snapped. “Do you hear what you’re saying? How can you love the guy if you’re going to talk about him like that? Lysander isn’t a spy. He’s not even a full-blood Praetorian.”
“No, he’s just the son of the Praetorian
bastardo
who killed my parents.” The viciousness of her angry words made Cleo jerk with surprise.
“
Il Christi omnipotentia
. Are you sure?”

“I won’t ever forget seeing that bastard’s face through the peephole of that priest’s closet my mother shoved Ares and me into.”

“But you can’t blame Lysander for the circumstances of his birth.” The horror on Cleo’s face ebbed as she stretched out her hand, but Phaedra jerked away as her friend shook her head.

“I don’t blame him for what his father did. But he lied to me.”

“About what? The fact he’s half-Praetorian?”

“Yes,” she bit out harshly. “He could have told me, and he didn’t.”

Lysander hadn’t even given her the chance to accept him for what he was. She closed her eyes for a brief moment. What would she have done if he had told her before this? The question frightened her because deep in her heart she didn’t like the answer. Her reaction wouldn’t have been any different than it had been last night.
But he hadn’t given her a chance, either. He hadn’t trusted her with his secret. She had no doubt that her love for him would have helped her overcome the shock of the truth. But now she was dealing with more than just the truth. She was dealing with who his father was and the fact that Lysander hadn’t trusted her. That above everything else hurt the most.

“He won’t come to you. You’ll have to go to him.” Cleo’s comment made her jump.

“What makes you think I want to see him?” Her question was icy, but she knew she wanted to see him despite what had happened.
“Because I know you’ve got questions.”
“Questions he should have tried to answer before this.”
“If you love him, you’ll at least listen to what he has to say.”
“Don’t you dare preach to me about love! You know what betrayal feels like, and this is a betrayal.” She ignored the way Cleo’s face went white. Her friend knew better. “Lysander didn’t tell me the truth. Instead, he made me believe we were going to be happy together. Forgive me if I can’t find it in my heart to easily forgive that.”
The silence between them was sharp and discordant. With a sharp nod of her head, Cleo stood up and headed toward the door. She paused in the doorway.
“The Prim
a Consul
has called for a briefing at oh-nine-hundred in the ready room. Make sure you’re there.”

As Cleo walked out of the bedroom, Phaedra watched her leave with a heavy heart. The disappointment in her friend’s eyes wasn’t something she enjoyed seeing, but at the same time, the fact that Cleo had forgiven Lysander so easily amazed her. Her friend’s words echoed in her head again.
If you love him, you’ll at least listen to what he has to say.
She did love him. But she wasn’t ready to listen to his explanations, and she just couldn’t trust him.

No, the truth was, she didn’t trust herself. Could she look at him on a daily basis without remembering the fact that his Praetorian father had butchered her parents? It didn’t make her feel good to ask the question. If she really loved him, she should be able to see beyond his blood. But it was still so raw and painful. Especially when it came to the memory of her parents. In some ways, loving him felt like she was betraying her parents.
She closed her eyes, only to have Nicostratus’s gloating features enter her head. A shudder rippled down her spine. The Praetorian was a monster that wouldn’t stay in the closet. It was bad enough to know the man had killed her parents, but to see him in her dreams as Cassiopeia’s tormentor was just as horrifying. Nicostratus was a dead ringer for Octavian, and he was just as evil now as he had been in ancient Rome. His renewed presence last night made her realize there were no coincidences in all that had happened over the last several weeks.
Each dream was following a loose timeline of the events leading up to Cassiopeia’s death by Maximus’s hand. While there were only similarities between her dreams and the present, the characters involved made her think a climax would happen in the near future. A climax that would revolve around her, Lysander, and Nicostratus.
As Octavian, the Praetorian had been responsible for destroying Cassiopeia and Maximus in ancient Rome, and the man was about to do it again. Nicostratus might not be aware of it, but the monster had already driven a wedge between her and Lysander. Seeing Nicostratus in her dreams had left her feeling just as helpless and scared as Cassiopeia. It was a sensation she didn’t like. A deep longing to have Lysander’s arms around her sank its way deep into her bones until she ached.

What was she going to do if she couldn’t find a way to come to terms with all that had happened? She blinked back tears. It was as if a part of her were missing. She knew it was Lysander. He made her whole. The knowledge only increased the ache in her body, telling her there was no right or wrong choice, only the acceptance of things she couldn’t control.

Chapter 21

THE conference room was quiet as individuals and small groups filed into the room. Even the Vi
gilavi
staffing the facility had been ordered to attend the briefing. That could mean only one thing. Atia had already informed the Council about last night’s events, which meant word would spread fast about Lysander and everything that had happened last night. Atia wanted to keep gossip and innuendos at a minimum. She watched the
Celeris
adjusting the webcam. Generally, the Prim
a Consul
addressed the Order only on special days celebrated by the Sicari. Today wasn’t one of those days, which meant Atia was going to share the news of what happened last night, personally.
Did that mean the Council had reacted badly to the news? Cato. If anyone was going to cause any trouble, it would be him and his small band of weasels. Phaedra frowned. The man was petty and vindictive. If he could make trouble for Atia, he would, simply because he’d lost the Prim
a Consul
title to her. Had he perhaps pushed her into a corner where Lysander was concerned? Maybe the Council had insisted she remove Lysander from duty altogether until a hearing could be convened.
When she’d first entered the room, she’d automatically looked for Lysander, but his absence didn’t surprise her. As her gaze continued to scan the faces in the room, she suddenly realized Ares wasn’t in the conference room. Neither was Emma for that matter. The sight of Cleo coming through the door made her tense. They’d parted badly earlier, and she wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Relief sailed through her as Cleo offered her a half smile and headed straight for the chair next to her.
“You okay?” Cleo leaned toward her. “I know I was a little rough on you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. I’m just … it’s just a little more complicated than you think.”
“I know, but you’ll work it out with him,” Cleo said with a quiet smile. “The two of you belong together.”
Phaedra shook her head as a frisson skimmed across her skin with the softness of a piece of silk. It was a familiar sensation, and her heart plummeted downward before it began to pound rapidly in her chest. Her gaze darted to the conference room doorway where first Ares, Emma, and then Lysander entered the room followed by the Prim
a Consul
. While her sister-in-law stood near the door, the other three moved toward the head of the conference table.

As much as she hated to admit it, the sight of Lysander made her long for the comfort of his embrace. She thought he might scan the crowded room for her, but he didn’t. The black eye patch he wore only emphasized his emotionless features.

It was as if someone had placed a leather patch on a bust of cold, hard marble. But it was the tight line of his jaw that said he wasn’t as calm and collected as he appeared. The fact that her heart ached for him, even after he’d lied to her, told her how much she loved him. She loved him so much.

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