Angel's Assassin (16 page)

It had been years since he had last seen his
brother. But he always knew he was lurking somewhere nearby.
Following. Watching. Waiting. Damien’s jaw clenched until it hurt.
“Gawyn, you bastard,” he snarled. “What did you do to her?”

Gawyn’s lip curled slightly. “Is that the
thanks I get for saving your life?”

Damien took a menacing step forward. “What
did you do to her?”

“She is asleep,” Gawyn said. “She would not
leave your side, even under the threat of my dagger pointed at her
belly.”

“You hurt her and I will kill you,” Damien
promised.

“Hurt her?” Gawyn’s hand dipped to the handle
of his dagger in his belt. “You were sent to kill her.”

“I was sent to kill her,” Damien affirmed.
“Not you or anyone else.” He quickly closed his mouth and looked at
Aurora, realizing what he had just declared openly. Much to his
relief, she still slept. He lowered his voice. “My time is not
over. I have two days left. You stay out of it.”

Gawyn shrugged. “I’m beginning to think you
can’t do it.”

“I’m not concerned with what you think,”
Damien said.

“After all these years of wanting your
freedom, I find it difficult to believe you would falter.”

Damien clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing.
“Is that why you’re here?” Damien demanded. “To take my freedom
from me?”

Gawyn chuckled and shook his head. “I want to
help you.”

Damien turned his back on Gawyn, gritting his
teeth. Help me, he mentally scoffed. Gawyn had never returned to
free him from the Redemption when he had needed him the most. His
fists balled into tight wads.

“You may fool Lady Aurora, but you can not
fool me,” Gawyn said. “I know who you are. Who you’ve always been.
Death. The Grim Reaper.” Gawyn jerked his chin at the beheaded
killer. “You even killed that assassin in a hopeless attempt at
honor. But Death has no honor. You can’t change who you are. Not
even for her.”

Damien stood absolutely still for a moment.
His stare found Aurora. Was that what he was trying to do? Change
who he was? He liked to be with Aurora. She made him feel
worthwhile. She made him feel… whole, like he had a soul worth
saving. But did he want to change? “What do you want? Why are you
following me?”

Gawyn’s jaw clenched tight and he shook his
head. “You can’t pass up this chance to get your freedom. I won’t
let you. Not after all these years. All these years of damning me
for being too late. For cursing me for not returning! And here,
here your freedom is laid at your feet and you just turn your back
on it?”

Damien squeezed his fists tighter. He knew
what was at stake. “I will do it when I am ready. Not when you tell
me to do it.”

Gawyn snorted in disbelief. “Finish your
mission before it’s too late. Do it before you can’t.”

Damien turned, but Gawyn had vanished. Damn
him. Damn him for showing up here in Acquitaine. Damn him for not
minding his own business. Damn him to hell for daring to threaten
Aurora.

She had not left him, not even under the
threat of harm. Damien shook his head. He had commanded her to run.
Instead, she risked her life to remain at his side. That had been
one of his rules, that she obey him without question. She could
have been killed. Had it been another assassin, she would not be
sleeping now. Damien fully planned to reprimand her when she
woke.

But for now he could feast upon her beauty in
the darkness and she would be none the wiser. Damien walked slowly
to her. He stood above her, staring down at her small figure
cushioned against the forest floor. She was enchanting and
mesmerizing. He fought down the urge to touch her as she slept, to
sweep his hand across her cheek, through her hair, over her lips...
as if she belonged to him. She didn’t belong to him. She didn’t
belong here. She belonged in a glorious bed of thick, warm furs and
mountains of pillows. She belonged to her people.

Her eyes fluttered and opened. Damien stared
down into her sleepy blue eyes. They held all the redemption his
black heart longed for. His worries about Gawyn, about his freedom,
and about his mission faded beneath the radiance in her orbs.

She was safe. And right now that was all that
mattered.

He knelt beside her.

She moved to sit up, but he caught her cheek
in his palm, stilling the movement.

For a moment, there was hesitancy in her
eyes, wariness. Then, she closed her eyes and pressed her cheek
against his hand, nuzzling it.

He was lost in those lips, in the feel of her
warm skin against his palm and he wondered what it might be like to
wake up with such a beauty in his arms every morning. He shook
himself firmly of such thoughts, a dark scowl sweeping over his
brow. Those thoughts were madness. He needed focus.

“There was a man,” Aurora said. “He stopped
the poison.” She glanced around the clearing. “Is he still
here?”

Damien shook his head. “He is gone.”

“Who was he?”

Damien did not answer.

“Did you see him?”

“There was no one here when I woke,” Damien
told her.

“We must find him…”

Damien held up his hand, silencing her. He
looked at her for a long moment. “Why didn’t you run?”

Aurora scanned his face in a silent caress.
“I could not leave you.”

Damien growled low in his throat. She put
herself in danger because of him, to save him. He was not worth
saving. He could never hold even the tiniest of sparks to her
radiance, to her goodness. And still, she stared at him with such
wonder and kindness and relief. He could not resist her. Not a
moment longer. He curved a hand at the nape of her neck and pulled
her to him, fiercely claiming her lips, wanting… needing to touch
her. He pressed his hot lips against hers, sliding over her wet
coolness. God’s blood, even now, half poisoned and recovering his
strength, he grew hard for her.

A whimper escaped her lips and Damien wasn’t
sure whether it was desire or protest. He loosened his grip on her,
not wanting to punish or hurt, only wanting to drink of her nectar,
her kindness, to absorb some of it into his black soul. Maybe then…
maybe then he would be worth saving.

She pulled back and there was a pout to her
thoroughly kissed lips.

He saw the unease edging her eyes, the
concern. He had frightened her, the one woman in the entire world
he didn’t want to scare. The look on her face saddened him and he
looked away.

The words from the darkness of his dream came
to him. She will see you for the ugliness you have in your soul one
day and she will turn her back on you. Did she remember what he had
done to the assassin? The violence? The blood? Had it tainted
her?

He did not want her to look at him with fear,
but he had known one day she would. One day she must. But not so
early. Not so soon.

Aurora climbed to her feet.

“Where is my sword?” Damien demanded,
searching the forest floor. He could not look at her.

“Here.” It had been hidden beneath the flare
of her dress when she was lying down.

Damien nodded in satisfaction. He picked it
up, pausing as he looked into her eyes. They sparkled a pale blue
in the moonlight.

Aurora stared at him for a long, pensive
moment. Then, she dipped her head in thought. The furrows of her
brow deepened as her gaze stopped at his thigh, lingering on his
wound. “How do you feel?” she asked.

“Well enough to see you back to your castle.”
He sheathed his weapon and took a step toward Acquitaine.

“Damien,” she called.

He hesitated. He didn’t want her to fear him.
Would she condemn him now for his violence? The silence stretched.
Finally, he turned to her and his breath caught in his throat.

She stood in middle of the forest, bathed in
a pool of moonlight. Her blonde hair, loose from any constraints,
fell to her waist in thick waves. Her back was straight, her tiny
body alluring and curvy and delectable. But it was her eyes that
captured his attention. He saw no fear in her eyes. It was concern.
Had he mistaken fear for concern?

Damien had never felt such an overwhelming
need for anything in his life. He trembled with his want of
her.

A swirl of emotions played over her face.
Concern, regret, helplessness.

It took all Damien’s willpower not to go to
her and sweep her into his embrace. He didn’t want to scare her. He
didn’t want to harm her. He didn’t want to taint her.

“I will never leave you,” she finally
confessed and tears entered her eyes.

Damien came toward her then, like a
tumultuous storm cloud. “You don’t know what you are saying,” he
warned in a savage whisper.

Aurora did not run for cover; she did not
shrink from his approach. She stared up into his face with those
damned clear orbs. And for the briefest of moments, Damien saw
himself reflected as she saw him. A hero, a good man. A man worthy
of all he could attain.

He stood before her, stunned.

The sound of horses thundering through the
clearing pounded a warning through the ground.

Damien grabbed Aurora’s hand in one hand, and
drew his sword in the other. He watched the group of men approach
through the forest, clumsily maneuvering their steeds through the
tight trees. He pulled Aurora behind him.

These men were no brigands. They wore
heraldry, and while Damien couldn’t be sure, he suspected they were
from Acquitaine.

As they drew closer, his suspicions were
confirmed. One of them called out, “Lady Aurora!”

Damien refused to relinquish her. For just
one moment, she had been his. And it had been the most glorious
moment of his life.

“Lady Aurora!” another called.

His time alone with her was over.

“I am here,” Aurora called out, a reluctance
in her tone.

Four men came forward, three of whom wore red
tunics with a white dove embroidered onto it, the symbol of
Acquitaine. But the leader wore a different crest. A black lion on
a white background. He reached them first, reining his horse to a
stop before them. His blonde hair waved gently in the breeze. His
dark eyes swept them. “Lady Aurora,” he gasped, dismounting. He
brushed his blonde hair aside and knelt before her. Practiced,
polished. Fake.

Damien hated him on sight.

Aurora stiffened. She released Damien’s hand
and stepped toward the knight. “Count Ormand,” she greeted.

Ormand stood and his gaze shifted to Damien
with just the right disdainful curl of his lip, then back to
Aurora. “I came to rescue you as soon as I heard an attempt was
made on your life. Imagine my surprise at finding you gone.”

“We were attacked by an assassin. Damien was
struck by a poison arrow.”

One of Ormand’s eyebrows rose. “Another
assassin?” He looked at Damien, then back at Aurora. “Were you
hurt, m’lady?”

“No,” she said. “Damien saved me. Again.”

Ormand looked at Damien. “This must be the
amazing Damien.”

Aurora nodded. “Ormand, this is Damien.
Damien, this is Count Ormand.”

“I am Aurora’s betrothed,” Ormand stated with
a slight lifting of his chin so he could stare down at Damien.

Betrothed. The word rang in Damien’s head
like a thunderous bell and his teeth clenched. Betrothed.
Betrothed. What did it matter? But the word did not stop clanging
in his thoughts. Betrothed.

Ormand’s pompous stare swept Damien
suspiciously from head to foot. “Why is he half naked? And what in
heaven’s name were you doing out in the forest knowing that your
life is in danger?”

“W
hat were you
doing out in the forest knowing your life is in danger?” Lord
Gabriel demanded, his teeth clenched, his eyes pinpoints of
anger.

Aurora stood in the middle of his solar, her
hands clasped before her as if she were praying. And, in reality,
she was. “I was going to Widow Dorothy’s cottage to deliver a bag
of supplies. I always do.”

“Foolish! You do that every week. And
everyone knows it.”

Her gaze shifted to Damien who leaned against
the wall with his arms crossed. He had refused to have his thigh
looked at, instead opting to remain at her side. Their eyes locked.
She had put his life in danger. She dropped her gaze to the rushes
on the floor. “She needs the herbs. I –”

“Sir Rupert had a messenger deliver them, as
you should have had.”

“I’m sorry, Father,” she whispered.

“I’m afraid in this matter, sorry is not
enough,” he said sternly.

No. Sorry was not enough. It was crazy,
ridiculous. Damien could have been killed. And it would have been
her fault. Her throat closed.

“If it weren’t for Damien you would be dead,
now. How many times must he save you?”

She cast a glance at Damien. Yes, how many
times? Aurora asked herself.

“I will find the person responsible for
hiring the assassins and punish him.”

She nodded obediently at his words, but she
knew such words were empty. Her father had never found the
assassin, nor the man responsible for hiring him, in her mother’s
death. She nodded so as not to wound his pride, hiding her doubt
behind compliance.

“Until then you will stay in the castle. Let
Damien do his job.”

Again, she nodded. But she didn’t turn away.
Not yet. “The assassin Damien killed in the forest…” Aurora hedged.
“Did you learn anything from him?”

“Don’t concern yourself with that. I know how
traumatic this is for you. Just put it out of your mind. I will let
you know when this is over.”

It was more traumatic not knowing. She
stepped forward. “I would like to know if anything was
discovered.”

“This is not work for you, child.”

His dismissal was insulting and
condescending. She was capable of running the market and handing
out judgments to her people, but when it came to matters of blood
and death she was a child?