Assassin's Honor (36 page)

           
"Watch your tone with me, Ares DeLuca," the Prima Consul snapped.

           
Her ire was a tangible force as he found himself roughly shoved backward a good two feet. It was a rare occasion when he witnessed Atia's ability, and her telekinetic response to his anger took him by surprise. Nonetheless, it didn't change anything. She'd given the order for the Chicago guild to find whatever it was David Zale had left for his daughter. But it was Atia's agreement to let Emma go with them that outraged him.

           
"Is it because she's an alieni? Is that why you're willing to risk her life?" He ground out the words, barely able to keep his tone civil. "Is the Tyet of Isis so important to you that you'll do whatever it takes to find it?"

           
"No. And for you to even suggest such a thing is an insult," Atia said with a freezing look in his direction. "I would sooner throw a lamb to the wolves than put Emma in harm's way."

           
"Then why let her go?" he asked with restrained wrath.

           
"Because if I don't, she'll go on her own--without protection.
And I don't want to see anything happen to her."

           
"Then we keep her here until my team has a chance to find whatever it is Zale hid in the house."

           
"We are not her jailers, Ares." His godmother sighed heavily.

           
"Fotte."
He slammed his fist into the wing-backed chair sitting in front of the desk. "I don't want her going. It's too dangerous for her and my team."

           
"My order stands. You're to take Emma back to her home after you've monitored the house over the next week."

           
"And if I convince her not to go?"

           
"Do you really think you'll win that argument?" Atia uttered a small sound of disgust as she eyed him with disbelief. He stared her down until she shook her head.
"Fine.
But only if she's not coerced in any way.
It's her decision. Not yours. Is that clear?"

           
"Yes," he bit out then spun around to leave the office. He'd reached the portal when Atia's voice made him pull up short.

           
"Ares, if you care for her as much as I think you do, you should let someone else take the lead on this assignment."

           
Frozen in place by the comment, his jaw flexed with tension as he turned his head to look over his shoulder at the Sicari Order's leader. Her astute gaze made him uneasy. She had that look that said she was testing the water. Well, she could probe all she wanted, but he wasn't about to let her see she'd thrown him a curveball. He kept his expression neutral and narrowed his gaze at her.

           
"Emma is my responsibility, and I'll keep her safe for that reason," he growled quietly as he sent Atia a warning look. "But if anything does happen to her, it'll be on your head, and I won't ever let you forget it."

           
The doorknob twisted beneath his hand as he flung the office door open and stalked out of the room. His stride ate up the hallway on his way down to the research library. It was the last place he'd seen Emma and the best place to start. He still couldn't believe Atia had agreed to Emma's demand.

           
Just yesterday, he'd received a report of activity around the house. He didn't care what might be there, Emma wasn't going back. It wasn't just because her presence put his team at risk if she went with them. But he refused to let her undo everything he'd done to keep her safe.

           
Whether she liked it or not, Emma was no longer an alieni. It didn't matter if transference of his ability happened or not, the moment he'd claimed her, he'd made her a Sicari. And she was his.
His to protect and care for.
He released a dark sound of fury. Hell, she hadn't even given him a chance to fully explain the blood bond to her.

           
For the past week, he'd been rehearsing how to tell her everything. But every time he got near her, she raced away. That was ending today, right here and now. He was tired of trailing after her like a puppy. He was going to make her listen to him and they'd go from there.

           
The idea that he could make Emma do anything sent mocking laughter flying through his head. His anger crushed it in a split second as he stormed into the research library. The empty room simply added frustration to the mix. Deus damno id, where the devil was she?
Her room?
No. He already knew how she much she disliked being cooped up someplace.

           
"Fotte.
Doesn't the woman know she's supposed to stay in one place?"

           
He blew out a harsh breath and moved back into the hall to see one of the researchers walking toward him. Sandro had his head in a book, but the minute he looked up to see Ares, he came to a halt.

           
"Have you seen Miss Zale?"

           
"Yes, il mio signore, she took the path that leads to the pond."

           
Ares nodded and brushed past the researcher and made his way down the hall to the back entryway. In minutes, gravel crunched beneath his feet as he walked quickly along the path Sandro had mentioned.

           
Overhead, the sky was gray, and it looked like it might rain any minute. He lengthened his stride. If she hadn't changed directions and left the path, she'd eventually wind up at the guest cottage. It was the perfect place to have it out with her. His breath clouded the air in front of him. The temperature had dropped. When he crested a hill, he saw the small pond and the cottage situated near its edge.

           
A low rumble echoed above him as he saw Emma a short distance away from the cabin. He moved more quickly, and in just a few minutes he'd closed the distance between them by more than half. The first raindrop splashed its way across his cheek. The size of it told him a lot more was on its way.

           
He was only a few feet away from her when he saw her back straighten. It was as if she'd sensed him. Had she acquired
a Sicari
ability already? The gap between them closed, he stretched out his hand to grasp her elbow just as the rain began to fall harder. She jerked her head around to meet his gaze with a look of defiance. Not a good start. To hell with good starts--he was going to make her listen to him no matter what. Her efforts to free herself were easy to thwart and he glared down at her.

           
"We need to talk," he bit out in a clipped tone.

           
"I don't have anything to say to you."

           
"Maybe not, but I've got a hell of a lot to say to you."

           
In response to her second attempt to break free of his hold, he half carried, half dragged her the last few hundred yards to the cottage. Merda, she wasn't going to make this easy for him, was she. The rain fell harder, and despite reaching the small house as quickly as they did, they still got wet.

           
The cabin's porch gave them immediate relief from the rain, and as they came to a halt in front of the cottage door, Emma shook her head vigorously. The action sent water everywhere, including his face. Why was he so sure she'd done it deliberately? His jaw tightening with irritation, he unlocked the cabin door with a slight wave of his hand.

           
A second later, the door slammed backward and into the wall. He barely noted the vicious sound it made. Instead, he fixed his gaze on Emma. Grimly, he met her stubborn expression and jerked his head in the direction of the interior.

           
The silence stretched between them as she glared back at him defiantly. Christus, she was a stubborn little mule. He exhaled the soft growl of anger he'd been holding back. The sound made her flinch slightly. Well, at least she was having second thoughts about defying him.

           
"Get in the house, now, Emma." Despite the quiet command, she didn't budge. Deus, she was really testing him. "I won't ask again."

           
Her face mutinous, she released an exasperated noise of disgust as she crossed the threshold and moved deeper into the cabin. The door crashed closed behind them as he strode to the fireplace. Although the cottage wasn't all that cold, a little warmth would eliminate the chill in the air. And considering Emma wasn't all that willing to listen to him, they'd probably be there awhile. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair facing the fireplace.

           
The mantle was bare except for a tin matchbox and he pulled a matchstick out of the container. He checked the damper then sank down on his haunches to light the wood lying in the hearth. There were eight guest cottages on the estate, and each cabin was always ready to accommodate unexpected visitors.

           
The Order owned numerous properties like the estate all around the globe, but the White Cloud property was a popular retreat. It was known for its serene setting and extensive research library. Then there was the fact that it was the residence of the current Prima
Consul .
At this time of year, though, the cottages were generally empty.

           
The small two-room cabin was rough and sturdy, but it was also isolated. No one would interrupt them. He fanned the fire slightly with a newspaper that had been left in a rack next to the hearth. As he waited for the fire to begin burning steadily, he shifted his position slightly so he could study her without turning his head.

           
She was beautiful. The defiant tilt of her mouth only emphasized the fiery spark he'd seen in her the first time they'd met. He didn't know how he was going to convince her to have faith in him after he confessed all his sins, but he'd find a way somehow. The idea of letting her go just wasn't something he was willing to contemplate.

           
His muscles grew taut at the notion and he shoved it aside. The most important thing at this moment was her safety. A point he needed to make clear with her. He needed to make her understand that it wasn't about him controlling her. It was about her safety and that of others.

           
After he'd made his case about not taking her back to her house, he'd deal with the blood bond. He drew in a deep breath and slowly released it in his effort to control his temper. She was angry enough for the both of them. He tossed the newspaper back into the rack then stood up and turned to face her.

           
"I can't let you go back, Emma," he said with a quiet patience he didn't feel.

           
"Why not?
I mean we're talking about the Tyet of Isis. It's why you brought me here. You wanted me to help you find it, remember?" She sneered.

           
"No. It isn't why I brought you here." Tension rocketed through him at the sound of his harsh tone.
Christus.
His control had lasted all of about thirty seconds. Swallowing his frustration, he shook his head. "The only reason I brought you to the estate was because I wanted to protect you. I didn't trust anyone else to keep you safe."

           
"Sorry. Don't believe you. It's always been about the Tyet of Isis," she said fiercely. "It's why you were at the Cairo police station, it's why you came to my house, it's why you brought me here, and it's why you had sex with me the other morning."

           
The anger and disappointment on her face sent a jolt of pain through him. Behind those emotions, he could see she was as vulnerable now as she'd been that day in Cairo. The knowledge clawed at his gut, because he was responsible for that look. She really believed he'd used her just to find the Tyet of Isis. And he didn't know what to say to change her mind.

           
It wasn't often he was at a loss for words, and it infuriated him. He didn't know what to say because at some base level she was right.
Except the sex.
That hadn't been about the artifact at all. Something else had driven him to make love to her that morning, but he just wasn't ready to label it.

           
"Fotte."

           
The Italian oath blistered out of him as he started pacing. Outside, the heavily falling rain was a muted roar, and the only other sounds were the creaks the wooden floor made as he walked and the crackling fire. How in the hell could he make her understand that all he cared about was protecting her? If he didn't care about her safety, why would he stop her? He came to an abrupt halt and wheeled about to face her.

           
"If all I cared about was the artifact, do you really think I'd keep you from going?" he snapped. Not the best tone to use with her, but surely she'd see the logic in his question.

           
"Truthfully?" she asked in a sarcastic tone. "I don't know, and I don't care."

           
"Deus damno id.
I care," he roared. He wanted to shake some sense into her.