Assassin's Honor (46 page)

           
He bent his head and listened to her breathing. It was shallow at best. Seeing her like this was even more painful than what he'd endured in the gauntlet. He'd told her he'd keep her safe and he'd failed.
Just as he'd failed his parents and Clarissa.
Fear unlike anything he'd ever known ripped through him. What would he do if--no. He refused even to think it. She was going to live.

           
Phae.
Where the hell was Phae? He reached up expecting to find his mike, but it was gone.
Lost in his fight with the Praetorians.
He touched the side of Emma's neck. Her pulse had increased, which meant she could bleed out if Phae didn't get here soon.
Fotte.
Fotte.
Fotte.

           
"Phae," he shouted with every bit of air in his lungs.

           
He knew his call might bring more Praetorians, but he didn't care. Without his earpiece, he had no idea if any of his team had survived. And if his sister was dead, then Emma would die. And if Emma died, it didn't matter how many Praetorians showed up because he was going to kill as many of the bastards as he could find from now until the day he died. He gently lifted her head and cradled it in his lap.

           
"Don't go, Emma. Per favore il mio amore, don't go."

           
He brushed her brown hair off her cheek, terrified by the wheezing sound she made with every breath. The Praetorian might have nicked a lung in addition to everything else the bastard had done by stabbing her. He closed his eyes and threw back his head to release a roar of anger. Somewhere in his dazed state, he heard the sound of running feet.

           
"Ares, are you all right? I would have been here sooner, but Bastien is dead and Thad--" He was dimly aware of Phae kneeling beside him and Emma. His sister drew in a sharp hiss of air.
"Dulcis Mater Dei."

           
His hand snaked out to grab his sister's arm. "Can you save her?"

           
"I don't know. There were four Praetorians and in the . . . Thaddeus was bleeding heavily, and . . . I . . ." Phae shook her head and his heart sank. He knew she didn't want to tell him that her ability had already been taxed healing Thaddeus. More footsteps echoed outside the office and Phae glanced over her shoulder as Lysander entered the room.

           
"We need to go." Despite his calm manner, there was a stark note of urgency in his Primus Pilus's voice.

           
"Emma's hurt. How much time before the checkered hats get here?"

           
"Not much. Can you heal her in the car?" Lysander asked quietly.

           
"No. We need to do something now." Ares glared up at his Primus Pilus then looked back at his sister. Phae's eyes darkened with a look of understanding, but she shook her head.

           
"I think her spleen's been hit, Ares. This kind of healing will incapacitate me, which means you'll have two people down to worry about if I heal her here." His sister reached out and touched his hand in a gesture of compassion as he shook his head. "I can stem the bleeding for the moment, but we need to get back to the complex for me to ensure she survives. I'll be weak, but at least I'll be able to walk. Lysander can help Thad."

           
Phae looked up at Lysander, who hesitated before he simply nodded and left the room. Phae watched him go, an intense emotion darkening her features. The minute she turned her head away from the door, her gaze met Ares's. Immediately, her features went blank as she hid whatever it was she was thinking and feeling behind a stoic expression.

           
It was the first time he'd ever seen his sister close herself off to him. Beside his leg, Emma moaned softly. Deus, she was regaining consciousness. He brushed the hair off her forehead. The skin beneath his fingers was warm. In silence, he watched Phae bend over Emma to study the wound. Then with a deep breath, Phae took Emma's hands in hers and closed her eyes. He heard his sister draw in a sharp breath as her face became a mask of pain. Seconds later, she grunted an unintelligible word and jerked away from Emma. Her features almost as pale as Emma's, his sister raised a trembling hand to her headset.

           
"Lysander, we're ready to go."

           
Ares stood up and offered his hand to Phae. She looked exhausted, and she swayed slightly as she stood beside him. Concern slipped through him as he steadied her with his hand. He hadn't realized how weak she was, which meant Emma's injury had been worse than either of them realized.

           
"Let me call Lysander in here to help you."

           
"Do that and I'll make you regret it,
il
mio signore," she rasped. "You might be Legatus, but I decide when I need help, not you and certainly not him."

           
"Fine," he snapped. Sometimes Phae didn't know when to give up and ask for help. She thought it would make her look weak. "Get moving. I'll be right behind you with Emma."

           
Phae gave him an abrupt nod then shuffled to the door. It was clear her efforts to heal Emma had taken their toll. She had that drunken reel she always got after healing a serious wound. If he'd still had his mike, he would have overridden her wishes and called Lysander back into the house to get her.

           
As his sister staggered out of the office, he crouched beside Emma. She was still pale and unconscious, but her breathing wasn't labored as it had been. Aware he didn't have much time, he started to slide her gently into his arms when he saw the notebook lying near the window. It was still intact, the elastic band around it unbroken.

           
He stared at it for a long moment. The damn thing was responsible for him almost losing Emma and the death of one of his men. He wanted to shove it back in the hole it had come from and seal it up again. The memory of her holding the notebook with such loving care pulled a dark growl from him.

           
She'd come here for the damn thing, and if she didn't see it when she woke up, there'd be hell to pay. His breath was a sharp hiss as he grabbed the book and tucked it in the front of his shirt. He'd taken so much from her already he refused to take this from her as well. In the distance, he caught the faint wail of a siren. Carefully, he gathered Emma up into his arms. Moonlight fell across her still features, and his heart thundered in his ears as he considered what she'd have to say to him when she awoke. When she did, the notebook would be there beside her, and maybe, just maybe, she might forgive him all his transgressions.

Chapter 19

           
VOICES slowly penetrated the haze Emma struggled to break through. She shifted her body and cried out as a sharp twinge lanced its way through her side. God, was that harsh noise her voice? A strong, warm hand engulfed hers.
Ares.
She sighed with relief. He was all right.

           
"Hush, inamorato, you're safe now."

           
"Did . . ."

           
She blinked several times until Ares's rugged features filled her vision. Her mouth was dry, and she winced again from the bruised feeling at her waist. What was it she'd been going to ask? She couldn't seem to form her thoughts very well. Her brain was sluggish and she wasn't sure what were memories and what
were nightmares
.

           
It was like waking up after a heavy night of drinking and not being sure if she'd really danced naked under the moon or not. God she was thirsty. As if reading her mind, he put a straw to her lips. She drew in the cool water and swallowed. It tasted good, and she drank steadily for several seconds before he pulled the straw away.

           
"Easy. Not too quickly, inamorato."

           
"I'm so tired." There was that raspy whisper again.

           
"You will be for a few hours. Your injury was too severe for Phae to heal you completely. She did what she could, but your body has to do the rest. It's why you're going to feel out of sorts for a day or so."

           
"I don't . . . Phae?"

           
"She's fine,
cara
. You're both fine."

           
Puzzled, she winced again.
Injury.
Had she fallen? It would explain why her side hurt as if she'd taken a solid kick to her ribs. She closed her eyes, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep. Instead, she saw flashes of images that grew in number and strength until they were like a tidal wave crashing into her.

           
The memories flooded through her, reviving those terrifying moments in her father's office.
Mike and his head rolling off his shoulders.
Ares's sword flashing in the dark as he fought for his life and hers.
And then there was the stranger and the sword plunging into her side. The memory tugged a cry of fear from her, and she came upright in the bed. The movement pulled another cry from her, this one of pain. Strong hands grasped her arms as Ares gently tried to force her back down onto the mattress.

           
"It's all right, Emma. It's all over. You're safe, dolce mia."

           
She shoved him away and buried her face against her knees as she hugged her legs close to her chest. Hot tears wet her face as she prayed for the images to stop. They didn't and a hard sob shuddered through her as the memory of Mike's death lashed through her. She rocked back and forth as the barbaric act replayed itself in her head with horrifying intensity.

           
Even if he'd been involved in her parents' death, to die such a horrible death like that--it had been so unexpected the moment it happened, she'd been more shocked than horrified. But now, the scene played over and over again in her head like an endless nightmare. The terrible memory crashed into another image like a race-car skidding out of control.

           
Her mind tried to slam on the brakes, but her careening emotions drove her forward to the memory of Ares fighting both their attackers and his cry of pain when a sword had sliced into his arm. Her heart crashed in her chest as she remembered the way his attacker had taunted him. The rest of it flowed hard and fast through her head until she felt the cold steel of the fighter's sword piercing her side.

           
She jerked her head up with a sharp gasp as the terrifying sensation scraped away at her senses. She knew there was more, but she couldn't go beyond that moment when the blade had ripped through her side. Wrenching the curtain aside to see beyond that wasn't something she wanted to do because she instinctively knew it would horrify her. Her mouth dry and her face wet, she looked at Ares.

           
"Could I have some more water, please?"

           
He immediately grabbed the glass from the bedside table and offered it to her. When she'd finished drinking, he set it aside then turned back to her. He captured her hand in his strong grip and gently squeezed her fingers.

           
"Talk to me,
cara
. Don't keep it inside. It'll eat away at you until there's nothing left."

           
"Phae . . . I . . . how bad was it?"

           
"We almost lost you. If it wasn't for the strength of Phae's ability, you wouldn't be here."

           
His grim expression only made the darkness inside her expand. The thought of the other woman taking on her pain and wounds filled her with a myriad of emotions--a mixture of gratitude, sorrow, and dismay.

           
"How is she?"

           
"Like I said, she's fine. A bit under the weather, but she's accustomed to it. It's a part of who she is."

           
She nodded her head as she recalled Atia explaining how Phae was a special kind of healer. Despite her cool exterior, Ares's sister had a generous heart. She shuddered as the memory of that steel blade flashing in the moonlight returned to haunt her. The moment the sword had bit into her, she remembered fighting to remain conscious.

           
The pain had not been what she expected. Instead of a sharp, stinging sensation, there had only been a deep, throbbing ache. But it was a debilitating pain that had left her feeling helpless. The image of the man's gleefully cruel face swept through her head. She sucked in a sharp breath of fear. No. She wasn't going past that moment.

           
Ares had saved her. She just needed to hear him say it. Everything would be all right then. She could deal with the horrifying memory of being stabbed, but the other . . . no, that wasn't possible. She tried to make her voice lighthearted.

           
"You can't stop playing the knight in shining armor, can you?" Her words tugged a grim smile to his lips.