Assassin's Honor (29 page)

           
"Goddamn you, Ares. Get up and move." At her loud command, dozens of heads turned in her direction. She ignored them and saw Ares stir. "Move, you bastard, or I'll take a sword to you myself."

           
With what appeared to be a Herculean effort, Ares rolled onto his stomach and began to crawl forward again. The sweater on his back was in ribbons, blood darkening his skin between the black knit pieces. She didn't know how he was able to move. It was easy to see he was exhausted. The last two fighters stabbed at his back, but they didn't draw any blood as he stretched his hand out to claw at the ground outside the gauntlet. With a sob of relief, Emma raced forward. The moment she drew close, several warriors closed ranks around Ares. Not about to let someone stop her from reaching him, she shoved her way past the fighters into the area where Ares lay still on the ground. The Prima Consul was kneeling at his side, and as Emma knelt opposite her, the woman's silvery eyes met hers with a look of condemnation.

           
"His injuries are severe, but he should survive the night."

           
The woman's detached observation made Emma stop breathing for a long moment. Guilt sliced through her at the accusatory look on the woman's face. Swallowing hard, she dragged her gaze away from the Prima Consul's harsh expression and leaned over Ares. Her fingers gently brushed through his short, matted hair.

           
He'd put his own life on the line to save her. Having witnessed the brutality of the gauntlet, she now understood why he'd forced her to accept him as her champion. He'd been right. She never would have survived that horrible corridor of punishment. The shallowness of his breathing deepened the icy fear she'd been living with since he first entered the gauntlet.

           
"He needs medical attention," she said as she looked at the woman.

           
"His wounds can be dressed, nothing more. No healer or doctor can touch him for twenty-four hours. Justice must have time to ensure he's a Sicari worth saving."

           
"Worth saving?"
Emma rasped in furious disbelief. "The man put his life on the line for me, and you refuse him medical attention just to see if he's worth saving. If that's your sense of justice, I'll take anarchy any day."

           
"I'll forgive your disrespectful tone--"

           
"Right now, I don't give a damn what you forgive. I want him carried into the house, now." Emma leaned across Ares until her face was inches from the Prima Consul's face. "I'll take care of him myself. I don't have the ability to heal him, but I can at least make him comfortable.
Unless, of course, the lot of you has something more barbaric to put him through."

           
A strong hand grasped her shoulders and gently pulled her away from the Prima Consul. Looking up, she saw Lysander towering over her with that stoic expression she vaguely realized was normal for him. He gave her a brief shake of his head.

           
"Come, we'll take him to the house."

           
Someone pulled her to her feet, and she trembled as she watched six fighters slide their hands under Ares's head and feet. The men locked arms then gently lifted him from the ground. Ares groaned the minute they moved him, and Emma's breath hitched with remorse. God, if only she'd listened to him. No, if only the past few weeks were nothing more than a nightmare from which she'd wake up.

           
The Sicari warriors moved slowly in an effort to minimize Ares's pain, and it took them twice as long to reach the house as it had to reach the funeral pyre. Once in the mansion, they carried Ares upstairs to a large bedroom and placed him on the bed. She dismissed the men with a sharp word of gratitude then stopped Lysander from following the men out of the room.

           
"I need bandages, tape, scissors, aspirin, and any antiseptic you can find."

           
The scarred fighter studied her for a long moment before he nodded his head and exited the room without a word. Emma turned back to Ares and studied him in silence for a moment. Pale and drawn, he looked worse now than when she'd first reached him. Fear coiled its way through her, but she pushed it aside. She could be afraid later. Right now, she needed to get him undressed and cleaned up.

           
Hot water.
She needed hot water and washcloths. Basic first aid was something everyone on an archeological dig knew. Hospitals weren't always close at hand when someone was injured. She headed toward the bathroom, but paused when she heard a knock at the door. She almost ignored it, but something about the sound told her to answer the summons. Quickly crossing the floor, she tugged the door open and saw Phae standing in the doorway. The worry and fear on the other woman's face inflicted another lash of guilt across Emma's conscience.

           
"How is he?"

           
"He's bled a lot, I think, but I've not had a chance to look at his wounds." She stepped back to allow Phae to enter. "He needs your help."

           
Sorrow twisted the Sicari woman's face into a mask of pain and she took a quick step back from the door. "It's forbidden. It is dishonorable to heal him."

           
"He's your brother. You can't just let him suffer like this."

           
Phae shook her head. "You don't understand--"

           
"You're right. I don't understand how you can walk away from someone you love when they're hurting. If I could do it, I would. But I can't." Emma glared at the dark-haired fighter with fierce determination.
Silently willing her to heal her brother.

           
A strange look crossed Phae's face, and she nodded sharply. She glanced up and down the hallway before slipping into the room. Emma closed the door behind her. With a frown, Phae nodded toward the door.

           
"No one should come to check on Ares until tomorrow. But whatever you do, don't let anyone in while I'm here. You've already seen that the Order believes in harsh punishments when rules are broken." Emma nodded as Phae quickly crossed the room to take her brother's hand. "I can't heal him completely or they'll know I helped him. And that means we'll all pay the price."

           
"Do what you can. I'll make him comfortable when you're done."

           
Clasping her brother's large hands in hers, the Sicari woman closed her eyes. In less than a minute, blood soaked Phae's shirt and pants as Ares's wounds became hers. Then with a gasp, she released her brother's hands and slid off the bed to collapse on the floor. Blood still trickled out from under her sleeve to drip slowly on the carpet.

           
The sharp knock on the door made Emma jump, but Phae simply looked at her with that same expression of resignation she'd seen on Ares's face earlier. The Sicari woman dropped her head as Emma turned toward the door.

           
"Who is it?" she asked quietly, her hand on the doorknob.

           
"Lysander." The Sicari fighter's deep voice reverberated through the heavy door.

           
"Let him in. He won't betray us."

           
From the bedside, Phae jerked her head at Emma in a silent command to open the door. The moment she let the fighter into the room, he handed her a first aid kit. A frown tightened his impassive features as he stared down at her.

           
"Is he worse than--merda." The frown on his face dissolved into one of furious outrage as he quickly crossed the room to kneel at Phae's side. "I should have known you'd try something like this, you little fool."

           
The emotion the man displayed seemed completely out of character and Emma was glad she wasn't on the receiving end of the man's quiet fury.

           
"Shut up, you arrogant bastard." Despite her weakened condition, Phae managed to send him a contemptuous glare. "I'll be all right in a few minutes."

           
Lysander uttered a dark word of Italian and lifted Phae up into his arms. "Perhaps, but if anyone sees you like this, they'll make you pay dearly."

           
The soft growl was dark with anger, but Phae didn't flinch. Instead she glared up at him. "Put me down, you big oaf. You carrying me
is
going to look a hell of a lot more suspicious than if I just lean on you as you're walking me to my room."

           
Lysander ignored the woman in his arms and directed his harsh, one-eyed stare toward Emma. "Check to see if it's clear. Phaedra's bedroom is just a short way down the hall."

           
Obeying his order without a word, Emma quietly opened the door. The empty corridor stretched off in both directions like a dark Roman archway. She pulled the door open wide.

           
"It's safe."

           
Her gaze met Lysander's black scowl, but he didn't say a word as he swept past her and out into the hall. As the Sicari warrior carried Phae out the door, the woman nodded toward her brother.

           
"Take care of him."

           
"I will," Emma said. "You did the right thing."

           
"I see now why my brother is fascinated by you." Phae's soft words whispered around her. "The two of you always do what's right, even if it means breaking the rules."

           
Emma watched the tall, disfigured Sicari stride quickly down the hall with Ares's sister. A moment later, the two of them disappeared into one of the rooms off the corridor. With a sigh of relief, she closed the door of Ares's room and turned to stare at the man on the bed. Pale and unconscious, he didn't look much different despite Phae's healing touch.

           
The woman had said she could only help ease his injuries slightly. She also knew that, like her brother, Phae drained her abilities every time she used them. The woman had healed Ares before he'd run the gauntlet. It was more than likely she'd been able to heal only the worst of Ares's injuries this second time.

           
Emma hurried toward the bathroom for hot water and towels. The sooner she helped Ares get back on his feet, the sooner she could tear him apart again when he was better. He could have saved both of them a lot of pain and trouble if he'd just explained how things worked in this world of his. All of this had been so unnecessary. Her conscience, and the stabbing pain in her hand, reminded her that she was the one at fault. He had told her not to interfere. She ignored the self-recrimination.

           
Emma kept her touch light as she gently wiped the dirt and blood from Ares's face. The gash on his cheek wasn't quite as bad as all the blood had made it look. She tried to examine his chest, but the minute she tried to raise his shirt upward, he groaned in pain.

           
God, if she'd only known what interfering in the Dux Provocare had meant. She never would have done it. No, that wasn't true. She would have interfered. Just the thought of something happening to Ares would have driven her forward no matter what the consequences.

           
The realization alarmed her. She didn't even know the man. Why would she feel such panic at the thought of him dying? Unwilling to examine the thought further, she reached for his black leather boots and removed them, along with his socks. She shifted her attention upward and unlatched his belt then unzipped his pants.

           
Black leather warmed her fingers as she gently tugged the snug-fitting trousers downward. The intimate act made her tremble, and she puffed out a breath of irritation. The man was injured. She didn't have any other choice but to undress him. Aggravated by her hesitation, she tugged the soft leather down to mid-thigh and stopped.

           
Unable to breathe, she simply stared. It was impossible not to look at him. He'd gone commando tonight, and what she saw sent heat crashing straight through her until her sex ached. He was beautiful. Nestled against dark curls, his relaxed staff aroused every wicked thought she'd ever had about a man. The sudden image of caressing him with her mouth made her even hotter. He'd grow thick and hard as she sucked on him.

           
She dragged in a sharp breath at the imagery. God, she was more insane than him or the rest of the Sicari. She bit down on her lip at the sensations ripping through her. Her reaction to him was natural. She could appreciate the beauty of a male body. She just needed to remember she was his nurse. The best thing to do was cover him up.
If someone came in and caught her staring at Ares's naked body--heat flooded her cheeks.

           
With a swift movement, she reached out to grab one of the bath towels she'd found in the bathroom. Her fingers wrapped around the soft fleece, and with a sharp snap of her wrist, the towel became a loincloth. There.
Much better.
At least, she wouldn't be embarrassed if someone like that woman called the Prima Consul actually did check up on Ares. Just because Phae had said no one would come until tomorrow didn't mean it wasn't possible.