Legends of Medieval Romance: The Complete Angel's Assassin Trilogy

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Are you thirsty?” the shadow repeated.

  Some semblance of reality returned to her. An assassin would not ask if she were thirsty. She parted her parched lips. “Yes,” she said in a dry, hoarse voice. She heard liquid being poured and took the moment to look around. Moonlight seeped into the room through the closed shutters of her window. Familiar rich velvet curtains hung from the bedposts. The moon cast well-known light patterns across the floor. She knew where she was. Her chambers. The only difference in the familiarity of her room was the sleeping man sitting precariously on a chair tucked into a far corner.

  A mug was placed in her shaky hands. She stared down at the liquid inside. Memory returned. Poisoned! She almost dropped the cup.

  A hand steadied it in her hands. Another memory shot through her sluggish mind, a hand gripping her wrist to stop her from drinking the poisoned wine.

  “Damien?” she called softly.

  “Aye,” he replied.

  A soft sigh escaped her lips and she raised the mug to her mouth and drank deeply, trusting him completely. The ale washed down her throat, bathing the dryness with refreshing coolness. She lowered the mug and leaned over it as if inspecting the contents. Marie. Oh, Marie, Aurora thought with the anguish of betrayal. A beam of moonlight hit the inside edge of the mug and in the shimmer of the dark liquid she saw the image of the trusted servant. Aurora had been so sure Marie was loyal, so sure she would never poison her. And she had been wrong. Dangerously wrong. “You were right,” she whispered. Right about Marie. She looked up with sincerity and gratitude. “I am sorry for not believing you.”

  Damien stepped closer. “You are too trusting, I’m afraid.” It was not a statement of recrimination, just a simple fact. “Everyone is capable of deception,” he told her. He looked straight into her eyes. “Everyone.”

  His black tunic made him almost indiscernible as he moved toward her. His skin gave him away, darkly tanned, yet lighter than the darkness surrounding them. “Even you?” The thought was almost too much to bear. In the short time she had known him, she had come to trust Damien. To depend on him without the slightest reservation or doubt.

  “Everyone,” he said.

  “You would deceive me?” she asked, wounded deeply.

  “It is as I told you. People will do what they need to do to survive.” He looked at her. “Even you.”

  “I would never harm another,” she insisted. “No matter what.”

  “No?” Damien wondered. “What if someone had a sword to your father’s throat and told you that if you did not poison…” Damien searched for a name. “…me, your father would die.”

  She tilted her head, wondering how many people had harmed him to so taint his soul. “I would never hurt you. How could I when you twice saved my life?”

  “It’s easy to say in the dark, when your father is in no danger.” The candle he held flamed to life, spreading light in a circle about her bed. Damien raised it higher and the flickering flame illuminated his strong face with a golden glow. “But in the light of day, if the danger I portrayed to you were true…we might see a different side of you.”

  Aurora lifted her chin. “It would kill me to have to make such a choice, but I would never hurt you. Not even for my father’s life.”

  Damien scowled slightly. His gaze searched her face, touching every corner of it, looking for something. He lowered his eyes. “I am your bodyguard now. Your father is paying me to keep you alive and well.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. With his statement came a strange thrill that warmed her in places she had never felt such heat before. She had implored her father, but never thought he would hire Damien. She took another drink of ale, and the golden liquid now tasted like an elixir of forbidden excitement. She looked around. Except for the sleeping guard, she and Damien were alone. “My father must trust you if he allows you into my room.”

  “You put too much faith in trust,” he said. “He is paying me to keep you alive.”

  She turned away from him and placed the mug onto a table near her bed. “And tell me, Damien, what is it you believe in?”

  Damien fingered the handle of the dagger in his belt. “I believe in the power of this,” he said. He jangled the coin pouch attached to his belt. “And these always do what you expect them to do.”

  Material things. “You have no faith in people. It must be a very lonely life you lead.” She swung her legs from the bed, steadying herself for a moment. “Do you find solace from the cold steel of your blade? And what of love? Do you search for that in your pouch of coin?”

  “Love?” Damien scoffed. “Love is the ultimate trust, and therefore the ultimate illusion because it does not exist. To search for it is a complete waste of time.”

  Aurora’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Damien stood stoically before her, half in shadow, half in light. “Some do not have to search for it. I feel the warmth of love from my people, and the protection and kindness of my father’s love every day. To think love does not exist is a sad, lonely mistake.”

  Damien shifted his stance, lowering the candle to set it on the table near her bed. The shadows consumed him as he stepped back. “The only love my father gave me was to sell me into slavery. Otherwise he probably would have beaten me to death.”

  Her heart twisted. She peered into the blackness, trying to see Damien, but it was as if he had melted into the shadows. Slavery? Beaten? No wonder he did not believe in love. She put some weight on her legs, and gingerly rose up to a standing position. A momentary twinge of weakness settled in her knees, and she thought her legs might buckle under her, but she managed to stay upright. Aurora stood motionless for a moment, realizing this was the first and only thing Damien had revealed about himself.

  “That’s not love, Damien,” she said softly as she stepped up to him.

  Damien stood silent for a long moment. All she could hear was the steady sound of his breathing.

  “I believe in love. And trust.” She stood before him, her chin lifted just slightly. “And I believe that people are good-hearted and kind.”

  “I find it strange you can say such a thing when two attempts have been made on your life. Where is the goodness in that?”

  His barb hit the mark. And for a moment, she doubted her conviction. Whoever wanted her dead was certainly not good of heart.

  “Unless there is something about you no one else knows. Something that makes others hate you enough to kill you.” He moved closer to her. “Others can pretend to be what they are not, so why can’t you?”

  Guilt washed over Aurora. A secret. Her heart began to pound in her chest. Damien saw everything. Could he see the guilty secret of her mother’s death? She quickly pushed the thought aside, straightening away from him. “I -- I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  The shadows clung to him like an embracing lover as he moved closer.

  Aurora retreated until she felt the bed at the back of her knees. It seemed wrong to be this close to him. Precarious. The last thing she wanted to do right now was collapse into his arms.

  The glow of candlelight caressed every powerful feature of his bronzed face. His strength and maleness permeated the room, surrounding her, drawing her in. Shivers raced up and down her arms.

  Or was collapsing into his arms the only thing she wanted to do?

  His dark gaze swept her face in a languid caress. He took his time, moving his stare over every inch of her face. Tingles raced across her shoulders to the very points of her breasts.

  He swept the mug from the table and lifted it to his lips, taking a deep drink, raising the cup up high. Some of its contents spilled over his chin, dripping down the length of his neck in a dark line.

  Aurora watched his adam’s apple bob up and down as he drank. The strongest desire to reach up and touch the spilled wine, to touch his skin, enticed her. No! Her breathing quickened at such a forbidden thought.

  When Damien lowered the mug, his face was peaceful and his eyes were closed as i
f he were in absolute bliss. When he opened them, there was fire in them, a dark, sultry burning. He lifted the cup to her. “Drink.”

  She could not look away from his hypnotic eyes. Such blackness. Such scorching heat. Such confidence. She was drawn to them and nervous at the same time. Her gaze dropped to the mug. To drink from the same mug he just drank from suddenly seemed so sensual. So dangerously sensual. A sudden flush of heat between her legs threatened to enflame her entire body. What was happening to her? She swallowed hard.

  The corner of Damien’s lip curled. He lifted the mug to her mouth, running the rim over her lips.

  Aurora’s breathing became shallower; her senses heightened. The image of putting her lips where his had been left her breathless.

  She knew she should not, could not, give into such base impulses. She was Lady of Acquitaine. Her people looked up to her. She had to remain the image of impeccable decency. She had to set a flawless example. She could not let her emotions rule her. She turned her head to the side. “No,” she whispered. “I’m not thirsty.”

  For a moment, Damien did not move.

  Aurora lifted her gaze to him. She met his stare with a shaky resolve.

  Damien lowered the mug, his eyes narrowing slightly. Finally, he stepped away from her, merging into the darkness once again.

  With his absence, coldness seeped around her. Aurora looked into the shadows, searching him out. She could not see the outline of his body, but she could feel his gaze, a stare gleaming with an animal hunger.

  “You should rest,” he told her.

  Aurora whirled as if released from a spell and hurried into her bed, suddenly desperate to escape the intimate inspection of those dark eyes. She pulled the covers up to her neck. An unfulfilled restlessness tightened her lower stomach. She was certain she just passed some kind of test. The only problem was she had no idea how, or exactly what kind of test it had been.

  She listened for him, but could hear nothing except her own heart beating madly. She searched the shadows, but the blackness hid him from her.

  A strange yearning gripped her, a need to make him believe in the love he was sure did not exist. She snuggled under the cover, trying to banish the thoughts. It was not proper to feel this way about Damien. And yet, it was Damien her mind sought.

  She could feel him all around her. Protecting her. Guarding her.

  Watching her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Damien waited in the hallway for Aurora to dress. He leaned against the wall, his arms crossed, his eyes closed as if resting. In truth, he knew everything that was going on around him. Two guards were stationed outside the door to Aurora’s room. One took his job very seriously, barely moving the entire time. He cast Damien disapproving stares. The other was older, and obviously bored. He continuously shifted his position, making his armor clang slightly with each adjustment of his legs or arms.

  Damien mentally shook his head. He should have said no, no to Aurora’s request to get out of bed. No to her offer of joining her at the castle after the first time he saved her. No to becoming her bodyguard. He knew the dangers of beginning to like her. Yet, despite all of this, despite the final goal of his mission, despite the nearness of his freedom, he wanted to be close to her.

  As the door opened, he couldn’t slow the feeling of eagerness sweeping through him even before he heard the rustling of her silken gown, even before he opened his eyes to see her. And when he did, he could barely help but inhale. She was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Not a hair of her lovely head out of place. Not a blemish on her exquisite skin. Perfect. Flawless.

  She gazed at him with those large, sky blue eyes. He did not move, did not breathe. Surely, no woman could be that beautiful. No woman could take his breath away like she did. It just wasn’t possible. Yet here he was, despite all his denials, unable to take his focus away from her.

  Aurora grinned as she stepped up to him, trailed by two of her cousins. “So how does this bodyguard position work?” she wondered, with just a hint of casual playfulness that he found maddeningly sensual.

  The fresh scent of roses enveloped him, causing him to take a deep breath, to take the essence of her inside of him. “Where you lead, I will follow,” he answered.

  Aurora’s brow lifted. “I continue as normal? There are no rules?”

  Damien almost grinned. “You must do what I say without hesitation. If I tell you to duck, do it immediately. If I tell you to stop. Halt. If I tell you to run, you must do so.”

  Aurora nodded. “I will.”

  “Unfailingly,” he insisted. His gaze dropped to her lips, and for the briefest of moments he wondered what she would do if he told her to kiss him. “It could mean the difference between life and death.”

  “Lady Aurora takes no orders,” the serious guard stepped up to them, scowling.

  Aurora faced the arrogant knight patiently. “Damien is my bodyguard, Sir Harold. I will listen to his advice.”

  “We don’t need an outsider to protect you, m’lady,” Sir Harold snarled contemptuously.

  “Perhaps you should take that up with Lord Gabriel,” Damien said. He placed a hand on Aurora’s back and guided her away from the pompous knight. He could almost hear the young knight grinding his teeth behind him.

  “Your father wants you to rest for another day,” one of the cousins called.

  Damien glanced backward at the cousin. It was the meek, brown haired girl who had spoken. The inconspicuous one. The girl they called Jennifer.

  “And I shall,” Aurora replied. “After I see to the most pressing issues.”

  “The knights practice today in the tilting yard, m’lady,” Sir Harold called. “It would please them to have you watch their skills.”

  Jennifer gasped. “Oh, Lady Aurora! Please say you feel well enough to attend. You know how the knights love to show off for you.”

  Aurora looked at Damien.

  His lips thinned and his jaw tightened. He shook his head. “Too many people. I don’t think it would be wise.”

  Aurora agreed with a nod. She began to shake her head. “I do not think –”

  Helen hurried to Aurora’s side, grasping her hand tightly. “It would be good if your people saw you have recovered.”

  Damien’s gaze shifted to Aurora’s other cousin. She was dark of hair, large of bosom. More than once he had seen her eyes narrowed when she looked at Aurora. They were not the warm looks of a loving cousin. He recalled her name was Helen.

  Damien looked at Aurora. “You’ve already barely escaped with your life. Twice.”

  Helen smiled charmingly at him. “But she has you now.”

  Damien pinned Helen with a dangerous gaze. She was no friend of Aurora’s. He wondered what her motive was for pressing Aurora to attend the knights’ practice.

  Helen lifted her chin in smugness. “All your knights will be there, m’lady. They would fight for you to the death. What safer place could there be?”

  “Please, m’lady,” Jennifer whispered. “Sir Jeffrey might be practicing.”

  Aurora glanced over her shoulder at Jennifer.

  Damien followed her stare. A light blush spread across the cheeks of Aurora’s young cousin and the girl bowed her head.

  Aurora turned to Damien, an earnest look on her face. “Surely, we can visit for a few moments? After we break our fast.”

  Damien’s face was blank. He tried to show none of the unease he felt, the warnings that tingled through his body.

  “It will do no harm just to watch,” Aurora stated, placing a hand on his arm.

  He looked down at her slim fingers resting on his arm. They curled around his forearm. Her touch sent reassurance through his body, erasing the apprehension.

  Aurora continued down the hallway.

  Damien missed her touch as soon as she withdrew it. A coldness settled over him. Suddenly tingles of alarm shot along his shoulders and Damien turned. Sir Harold locked stares with him as the young knight listened intently to somet
hing Helen told him. A secretive smile inched across Harold’s lips and the knight nodded his head.

  Damien didn’t like this alliance. He didn’t like it at all. He moved after Aurora, taking his place at her side.

  Just before they reached the Great Hall, a servant raced up to Aurora. The small, balding man leaned in to whisper into Aurora’s ear. She listened intently; a lovely scowl crossed her brow and she nodded to him.

  As the others entered the Great Hall for the morning meal, Aurora cast a glance at Damien and moved off down the hallway.

  Damien joined her. “You’re not eating?”

  “In a moment. Someone has arrived I must speak to.”

  Damien nodded and followed her. She seemed anxious and a little less controlled than she normally was.

  She nodded a greeting at a passing servant as she moved down the hall. Finally, she paused at a door to glance at Damien. “Perhaps you should wait here.”

  Damien eyed her curiously. “I should remain with you at all times.”

  Again, her brow furrowed slightly and she shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Just this once.”

  Damien’s gaze swept her face, moving over her flawless skin to her full lips. So beautiful, so trusting. How could he resist her heartfelt request? “Leave the door open.”

  She nodded and opened the door to enter the room. It was a sparsely furnished room with a desk and a chair. A shadowy figure stood from the chair behind the desk. Damien instinctively stepped forward, his body tensing for action. But when the man stepped into the light, Damien froze. He knew this man. He’d seen him before.

  Aurora rushed forward and embraced him. “Alexander!”

  Jealousy knotted Damien’s stomach, holding him immobile for a moment.

  The man she called Alexander kissed Aurora’s cheek as she stepped back, keeping his hands in her own. Damien quickly moved out of the doorway and into the shadows. He knew this man, all right. He’d seen him in the last town he was in. And the town before that where he had completed a mission Roke had sent him on.

  This Alexander was following him. But why?