Assassin's Honor

by Monica Burns

Trust no one with this secret. I'm certain the Tyet of Isis exists. I've found several clues to its location and hope to find more when we return to Dawwar. I think the Institute is spying on me. My university office has been broken into twice now. As a precaution, I hid something for you in the secret cubbyhole. Trust no one at the Institute. A colleague I knew years ago, Atia Vorenus, may be helpful. You can trust her. I think she's still with the Sorbonne. I love you, Emma. Dad.

  What were the odds of there being more than one Atia Vorenus on the planet? Small, but possible. Of course, the first time Atia had brought her to the research library, the woman had casually mentioned that she'd studied at the Sorbonne in Paris. That reduced the odds to virtually nothing. At the time, she'd thought nothing of it. Most major universities had archeology departments and the Sorbonne was no different. But looking back on the conversation, there had been an intensity about the woman's manner that said she was hoping for some recognition on Emma's part. Her father's message had to be referring to the Sicari Prima Consul. Or maybe there were two women with the same name. God, she didn't know what to think. She was so confused. Whom could she trust?

  She ignored the immediate answer to her question. No. She couldn't trust Ares. He'd used her. The anger welled up inside her again, and she drove her thoughts about him out of her head. She didn't want to think about him at all. God, she was a lousy liar even when she tried to lie to herself. The sound of soft voices intruded on the silence, and she looked over her shoulder to see Atia and Ares standing in the library doorway arguing.

  Emma quickly slid her translation under her scratch paper. She wasn't ready just yet to tell anyone she'd solved the cipher. She needed more time to think. Another peek over her shoulder and her gaze locked with Ares's penetrating look. Her heart slammed into her chest as their eyes met.

  For the past week, she'd refused to talk with him. Every time he came near her, she'd taken off in a different direction. It was easy to see he wasn't happy about it. Frustration thinned that beautiful mouth of his into a firm line, but there was a determination in his gaze that said he wasn't going to be put off for much longer. With a glare at his godmother, he spun around and disappeared.

  The breath she didn't realize she'd been holding slowly eased out of her. With her heart pounding, she turned back to the papers in front of her. Even from a distance, he had the ability to make her knees wobble. Not good. In fact, it was damn irritating that he affected her at all. He'd brought her to this remote estate in Michigan because it suited his purpose. It didn't get any simpler than that. Well, except for those few blissful moments in his bathroom.

  Even now, she was still reeling from that brief interlude. It had left her shaken in more ways than she cared to admit. Jonathan had never rocked her world the way Ares had the other morning. For Ares, it had been nothing more than just sex. She knew that. But God only knew what a woman would experience when he actually made love to her. A sliver of disappointment slipped under her skin because she wouldn't ever know what it would feel like. The thought made her hand curl up into a tight fist. What a fool she was.

  A light touch on her shoulder made her jump. She turned her head to look up at Atia. The woman's face was almost wrinkle-free and her features were classical. Her face resembled some of the paintings Emma had seen in Roman frescos. Dressed in jeans and a bright turquoise shirt, the Prima Consul looked young and vibrant. Not a day past forty. But if Atia was the woman her father had known, she would have to be much older.

  "You've a talent for frustrating my godson, cara." The Prima Consul smiled at her with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "If I didn't know better, one might think you of Italian descent yourself."

  "It's not my intent to make him feel anything. I simply want nothing to do with him."

  "You're both stubborn. One of you will have to give way eventually. The question is who." The older woman laughed and took a seat at the library table opposite Emma, and set a small wooden box on the table in front of her. "I for one would love to see him forced to bend just a little, and I think you're the woman who can achieve that."

  "I doubt that. Once I'm free of this blood bond, we'll go our separate ways." She stared down at her palm and the cut that was healing. "Although where I'm going to go is a mystery since I don't have a life any longer."

  The bitterness in her voice made Atia frown. "Emma, I know the past two weeks have been quite difficult for you. But if you let me, I'd like to be your friend."

  "Why?" she bit out with fierce suspicion. She was learning the hard way that no one ever did anything just to be nice. And she still wasn't sure she could trust this woman, even if she was the Atia in her father's message.

  "Because you and I have something in common," Atia said quietly.

  The leader of the Sicari hesitated and looked down at the box in front of her. The pensive look on the woman's face made Emma relax slightly. With a small, wistful smile, the Prima Consul opened the box and pulled out an object wrapped in white silk. She carefully unfolded the silk to reveal a small stone cross. Even without close examination, it was easy to see the cross was several hundred years old. Emma narrowed her eyes at the woman and shook her head.

  "What do you want from me?"

  "This cross was given to me by someone I loved very much," Atia said. "And it can tell you quite a bit about me."

  "I'm not sure what you mean." Emma looked at the cross then met the other woman's arched look. "How can a cross tell me something about you?"

  "Actually, it can tell you a great deal." With a slight movement of her fingers, the artifact rose up from the table by an invisible force then slowly settled back down onto the silk cloth. "As you can see, I have a gift similar to Ares's."

  Emma shook her head in amazement. "I thought Sicari women could only heal."

  "There are exceptions to everything in nature. Even those who choose to enter the Order occasionally inherit abilities," Atia said with a smile before her expression grew serious. "But our healers are our most valuable defense against the Praetorians."

  "Like Phae?"

  "Phaedra is quite special. Her healing abilities are some of the strongest I've ever seen," Atia said quietly. "But I'm not here to discuss her. I want to discuss the two of us. We both know you see things when you touch artifacts, Emma. My godson is quite thorough in his reports."

  The Prima Consul's direct and matter-of-fact manner told Emma the woman wouldn't believe her, even if she did manage to lie well for once in her life. But she wouldn't be tricked into touching one of the Sicari objects Ares had dangled like a carrot in front of her. She shrugged.

  "If you're asking me to touch the cross, I'll pass on test-driving this model. Why don't you just enlighten me?" Emma arched her eyebrows with distrust.

  "Molto bene, I understand your reluctance to trust me." Atia nodded with gentle acceptance. A reflective expression swept across the woman's youthful features. "More than thirty-five years ago I was working an excavation in the Cathars territory near Rennes le Chateau. Your Oriental Institute expressed interest in the dig and sent an intern to work with us. Not only was this young man intelligent and charismatic, he knew who the Sicari were."

  The Prima Consul paused and reached out to touch the silk that cradled the cross. Across from her, Emma felt a chill slide down her back. She knew what was coming. And if she hadn't seen Atia's name in the cipher, the woman's story would have been difficult to swallow. Palms together, her fingertips pressing against her lips, Atia drew in a sharp breath then continued.

  "I'd never met anyone quite like him. He was strong, handsome, bright, and witty. He was the first non-Sicari I'd met who realized my people had migrated from Rome with the Cathars to escape Praetorian persecution. He scoured the hills near the excavation site in search of anything that might prove his theory. I was with him when he found this cross in a nearby cave." Atia sighed and stared at the cross with a wistful expression.

  "You loved him very much."

  "Yes," Atia answered. "I t
hink a part of me always will. He was my first love."

  "Did you ever tell him how you felt?" Her question seemed to startle the other woman. Atia immediately shook her head.

  "No. I was nothing more than a friend. I wanted to tell him, I just never found the right moment. And when I did, it was too late." Hesitation crossed the Prima Consul's face as her gaze met Emma's across the table. Suddenly aware of how difficult it must be for the woman to share her story, Emma tried to make it easier for the woman.

  "Was it because he met my mother on the same dig?"

  "He told you about me?" Atia gasped.

  "Not exactly." Emma shook her head, her fingers sliding the translation of her father's coded message out from under all the papers. "He told me to find you. Your story just filled in some of the missing puzzle pieces."

  Amazement making her eyes widen, Atia stared at her as she took the translation and proceeded to read it. Worry replaced her surprise as she lifted her head. "Dolcis Mater Dei, then he did find the Tyet of Isis. He left it for you in this hiding place he mentioned."

  "No, I don't think so. I was with him and Mom at Dawwar . . . before their murder." Her muscles grew taut with the pain that always accompanied the memories. She focused on the days before the murders and shook her head. "I don't think Dad would have been able to hide his excitement if he'd made that kind of a find."

  "Then what do you think he left for you?" Atia's puzzled frown held frustration as well.

  "I don't know. His notebook, maybe? I haven't seen it since he died, although I've not really looked for it either." She winced as she remembered all the boxes with her parents' belongings in the garage at home. Boxes she'd never gone through.

  "His notes on the Tyet of Isis?"

  "More like a collection of notes and observations about the Sicari--"

  "Notes on where to find the Tyet of Isis?"

  "I suppose." Emma shrugged. "He never let me or anyone else touch it. I tried to convince him to go digital, but he refused."

  "Digital files are easily found and accessed. One's life work can easily be stolen. Notebooks can be written in a personal code, something David excelled at," Atia said with an absentminded expression as she pointed to the translation. "Where is this secret cubbyhole your father mentions?"

  "In his . . . my office."

  "Christus." The Prima Consul lightly smacked the tabletop with her palm. "If David did know the location of the Tyet of Isis and left that information for you, someone else might find it before we do."

  "I don't think anyone's going to find it."

  "You don't understand, piccola mia. The Praetorians are looking for the Tyet of Isis, too. If they think it's in your house, they'll literally tear it apart looking for it. Whatever's in that hiding place, we have to find it first. It's imperative that we find the Tyet of Isis before the Praetorians."

  "Why? Ares said no one knows what it is."

  A dark scowl on her face, Atia stood up to pace the floor. One hand on her hip and the other waving Emma's statement aside, the woman drew in deep breath. "Ares isn't the Prima Consul. I know things he doesn't, and the Tyet of Isis isn't just an artifact. It's the key. A key that in the hands of the Praetorians has the potential to destroy your world and mine."

  "Then there's only one thing we can do," Emma said with a sense of foreboding. "I have to go back for it."

  "Impossible," the Prima Consul snapped. "Your death was staged over a week ago. Even if we gave you a disguise, going into that house during the day is too risky. Someone might recognize you, which would undo everything Ares and the Order have done to keep you safe."

  "All right, then we go in at nighttime. No one sees me, and we're free and clear."

  "It's not that simple--" Atia objected with a sigh.

  "Are you trying to tell me the great Sicari spy network can't manage to sneak me in and out of my own house in the middle of the night?" Emma rolled her eyes at the woman. "Puhleeze. I've seen what you people can do. If I don't go, something might get missed."

  "Not if you tell us where the cubbyhole is."

  "My father left the message for me. If something's out of place or missing, I'll know it. I'll know if there's someplace else in the house I might have to look. Your people won't. You need me, and to be quite frank, the sooner I make good on this blood bond with Ares, the better."

  "Is it the debt you owe Ares you're so eager to dispense with or is it that you wish to run away as fast as you can from him?"

  "I pay my debts." Emma kept her voice neutral as she averted her gaze from Atia's perceptive one. "But I choose how to pay them."

  "Don't judge him too harshly, Emma. Like you, Ares likes to pay his debts. He's under the misguided impression that he owes me. He knows the Tyet of Isis is important to me, therefore it's important to him."

  "And I'll help you find it. But I'll do it on my own terms, not as Ares decrees."

  "As you wish." Atia nodded her head with a look of thoughtful assessment on her face. "Since you're determined to retrieve whatever your father left you, I should direct my spy network to make arrangements for you to return home long enough to secure the object."

  "Thank you." Emma exhaled a sigh of relief as she stared down at her father's handwriting.

  Doing battle with Atia had been far easier than it would have been with Ares. She needed to go home, not just to find what her father had left for her, but she needed to say goodbye. Everything she'd ever loved was gone, and now she was losing the last tangible part of her old life. It might be foolhardy to go back, but she didn't think she'd find a safe haven ever again.

  "And the cross?"

  She jerked her head up. Atia's expression was dark with emotion as she looked down at the artifact on the table. There was a longing in the woman's face that Emma could identify with. It was similar to the ache she felt for Ares. A desire for something more from him. The thought made her pull in a sharp breath. Hearing it, the Prima Consul sent her a questioning look. Striving to hide her revelation from the astute woman, Emma shook her head.

  "It's yours. I have no desire to intrude."

  "Thank you." Relief lightened Atia's features and she gave a sharp nod of her head. "I'll go make arrangements now for your trip back to Chicago."

  The woman's relaxed demeanor made Emma realize how hard it must have been for Atia to consider sharing such a private moment of her life with someone who was virtually a stranger. The Prima Consul passed her on the way to the door then stopped.

  "You do realize Ares will do everything he can to keep you from returning to Chicago. The blood bond is a pact between the two of you that has a greater meaning than just a debt. If the bond becomes intimate, it can have far-reaching consequences."

  She was grateful the woman was behind her. She was certain her expression revealed far more than she'd like. The memory of Ares thrusting into her the other morning until they were both satiated sent her heart skidding along until it crashed into her chest. And she definitely didn't like the idea that the woman might have suspicions about just how intimate her relationship with Ares was.

  As much as she loved being in Ares's arms and experiencing the heat of his touch, the idea of someone even suspecting the two of them had been intimate was unwelcome. She'd suffered enough humiliation at Jonathan's hands. She wasn't up for a repeat performance where Ares was concerned. Especially when this time it had meant more to her than she'd expected it to. Not to mention that it had meant nothing to Ares. She rose from her chair and turned to face Atia.

  "If you're worried I might weaken the Sicari bloodline, don't be." She sent the woman a haughty look. Atia narrowed her gaze, her expression unreadable.

  "I sincerely doubt you'd weaken our bloodline, cara. But you might be surprised by how much it could strengthen yours."

  God, the woman had the ability to be as cryptic as her godson. "It's irrelevant. Ares views me as a responsibility. And I can think of better ways to spend my time than dealing with his arrogant, sometimes Neandert
hal behavior."

  Atia's laugh of amusement startled Emma and she stared at the woman in surprise. The Prima Consul smiled. "The man can be arrogant, but I know my godson quite well. When he sets his mind to something, he accomplishes it. Where you're concerned, Ares isn't quite sure which way to turn. But something tells me you'll solve that problem for him soon enough."

  With that, Atia left the library. As she watched the woman leave, Emma frowned. What had the Prima Consul meant about strengthening her bloodline? She glanced around the library and saw the researcher she'd seen earlier shelving books. Quickly winding her way through the tables, she halted next to the young man, who looked up with a smile.

  "Yes, signorina?"

  "I was wondering if you had any books that discussed the Sicari blood bond."

  "We have a couple, signorina." The researcher nodded his head. "Come, let me show you."

  Setting his books down on a nearby table, the young man headed toward one of the sections she'd explored yesterday. He stopped and brushed his fingers across the spines of a row of books on one of the lower shelves. Obviously not finding what he was looking for, he straightened and frowned.