Angel's Assassin

by Laurel O'Donnell

  “Not at all. Damien is quite resourceful. He is very observant and –”

  “Yes, yes,” Ormand said. “Just like a good dog should be.” He grabbed a chunk of meat and tossed it on to Damien’s trencher. “Here’s your treat, boy.”

  Damien slowly set his dagger down on top of the table.

  Ormand stared at the blade, then back up at Damien. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Count Ormand!” Aurora said. “That is quite enough!”

  Ormand slowly turned to her and watched her speculatively. “You’ve taken quite a fancy to him. Some of his wildness seems to have rubbed off on you as well. We shall have to remedy that.”

  Aurora looked down at her food, fighting to keep her anger down. She knew better than to respond to his obvious baiting.

  Ormand leaned over to Aurora and whispered loudly enough for everyone nearby to hear, “When we are married and retire to my castle, his services will no longer be needed.”

  Panic flared inside her, tightening painfully around her heart. She looked to Damien.

  Coldness crept around her with the absence of his stare.

  Ormand took her hand into his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “When we are married, you shall be all mine.”

  ***

  Sitting nearby in the Great Hall, Alexander stared at the dagger Damien had set down on the table. It was a plain looking dagger, but something tugged at the back of his mind, tickling and nagging. He had seen that dagger somewhere before, but he couldn’t remember where. He absently took a drink of ale as he studied the blade. He knew it would come to him eventually.

  ***

  The absence of Damien’s gaze was numbing. Loneliness surrounded Aurora and confused her. After finishing their meal, she excused herself from Ormand and headed out of the Great Hall. Damien followed in silence. She walked into the inner ward, automatically taking the path she had tread thousands of times before. These were familiar steps to her.

  Aurora entered a tower that bordered the northern edge of the castle. When she was younger, she used to come up here weekly. Darkness consumed them as the door shut behind them.

  Damien halted her by stepping before her. “Where does the princess wish to go?” His voice was hard and cold.

  “Damien,” she began.

  “Where?” he demanded.

  “The very top of this tower.”

  Damien moved up the steps slowly, carefully, feeling his way up the dark passageway. She followed slowly. They moved in the darkness up the stairs until they reached the top. Damien pushed open the door. He stepped through the opening onto the northern tower. He held up a hand for her to wait. His gaze scanned the walkway he stood on, and then the inner ward. When he was finished, he looked at her and signaled her to come up with a bend of his fingers.

  Aurora moved onto the northern parapet. She did not look into the castle, but out over the castle wall. Sadness etched her gaze. There was distance between her and Damien. He had erected his defenses against her.

  The sea reflected the bright sun back and mirrored the blue sky above. The sky seemed to blend into the horizon, meeting the water, making it seem as if the world went on forever.

  They watched the morning sunrise on the water, the reddish orange light sparkling and pure.

  Damien swiveled his gaze to Aurora. He stared at her, long and hard.

  His gaze sent shivers up her spine. Or perhaps it was just the beauty of the place that still continued to affect her so.

  He reached out to touch her cheek, but his fingers froze inches from her skin. Aurora did not pull away. She could not. She wanted him to touch her.

  But the touch she felt next was not that of his warm fingertips, but that of a cold blade pressed against her throat.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Damien watched the startled expression cross her eyes, heard the gasp stop in her throat. His fingers trembled. One quick move… How innocent she was. How trusting. How foolish. Foolish in her blind faith and trust in him.

  He had waited a long time for this moment. His freedom was within striking distance.

  Her lips parted in a silent gasp and she lifted her chin beneath the pressure of the blade. “Damien,” she whispered.

  Betrothed. Anger flared through his veins at the thought of Ormand laying his hands on her, at the image of him kissing her and tasting her as he had. Is that why Roke wanted Aurora dead? So no one else could have her if he could not? Were Roke’s thoughts thick with jealous rage just as his own thoughts were now? Did that make him just as evil and twisted as Warin Roke?

  He had to do it now. He felt himself swirling toward oblivion. He was becoming lost. Lost to his mission, lost to his freedom, lost to everything he held dear except for her. Damien looked at the silver blade he held to the white skin of her neck. Your freedom means everything to you. He pressed the dagger up tighter against her throat. Her beautiful, smooth, white, flawless throat. Do it.

  She should be afraid. Why wasn’t she moving? Why wasn’t she running or trying to talk him out of it? Would she stand so motionless before another assassin like this? All of his victims had struggled and fought for their lives, especially when they knew their end was near.

  Aurora stood before him, her chin held high, unflinching, unmoving. Unafraid.

  Damien clenched his teeth tighter. Trusting, he thought with bitter disdain. No one trusted him. No one. Not his father. Not his colleagues. No one. And rightfully so. He was an assassin. He brought death. He was death.

  And yet… Aurora stood before him, imperiously, bestowing goodness on him with a simple glance.

  His hand shook, his fist tightening around the handle of the dagger. “You’re wrong about me,” he snarled.

  In her eyes, in her stunning blue eyes, he saw absolution. Damien could not move. His freedom was at hand. Just a little slash with his sharp dagger. But this was Aurora. She was so damned pure and innocent. He wanted desperately to kiss her. He wanted to have her. She was dangerous to him. So dangerous. That thought could not save him from his desperate need for her. Damien growled low in his throat.

  He threw the dagger aside and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her against him tightly, pressing his lips to hers. It was a frantic, despondent kiss. A punishing kiss. He would not give up his freedom. Not for anyone. It was all he wanted. It was all he needed. She would not stand in his way.

  His tongue delved into her hot mouth, his hand cupping her breast through the fabric of her dress. He pushed her back against the stone wall, thrusting his knee between her legs, against the very core of her being.

  She would not stop him from gaining his freedom. She didn’t know who he was. He was not good, as she believed. He was bad, evil to the core. And he was going to prove to her how evil. He had killed without a second thought. He had taken lives without a care for the misery it caused.

  He nipped her lips with his teeth, ran his tongue over her moist lips and thrust it into her mouth. He pushed her back against the wall with his body, pinning her there. He felt her breasts pressed hard against his chest, his leg thrust up against her womanhood. Damien pressed her head back with a fierce kiss, ravishing her mouth.

  He would take what he wanted and then he would complete his mission. Despite his anger, despite his evil intent, he felt her sweetness, her innocence answering his need. She was as pure and untouched as an angel freshly descended from heaven.

  No one is that pure, the beast inside him snarled. No one is that innocent.

  Despite the beast raging within him, his kiss softened, coaxing her to participate. He brushed tender yet reckless kisses down her neck to the hollow of her throat. His tongue flicked over the skin above her dress. He pushed the neckline down further, licking and nipping the very tops of her rounded breasts.

  And then she responded, gasping, her breasts heaving up for his taste. Her hands encircled his back in sweet surrender.

  Damien pushed a hand inside her dress to encompass her breast. Squeezing, he felt her hard
nipple against his palm. He pulled back slightly to look into her dreamy, dazed eyes, eyes that took his breath away. For a moment, as he palmed and caressed her breast, he wanted to get lost in those eyes. She groaned and he could feel her body moving against his thigh. “You’re as evil as I am,” Damien whispered. He wanted her to realize what she was doing. To understand what she wanted.

  And slowly, her cloudy half lidded eyes opened as reality invaded her thoughts. Passion drained from her eyes and frantic realization dawned.

  Slowly, he removed his hand from her breast. “I can give you pleasure beyond anything you have imagined,” he told her. He was so hard, it was almost painful. He wanted her. And he wanted her to give herself to him. “But to do so, you must give me your soul.”

  She gasped and struggled, pushing against his chest. In her large eyes, Damien could see her passion was gone. Fear and desperation shimmered in her orbs. He released her immediately, stepping back.

  Aurora almost tumbled forward, but righted herself. She raised herself up, staring at him with a mixture of confusion and lust.

  In his anger he had gone too quickly. He thought to complete his mission right here and now, but he could not do it. He could not watch death claim her before he did. And he meant to have her.

  He took a step toward her and she whirled, almost running down the stairs to the inner ward. Damien followed her, knowing full well he intended to seduce her and take her. Only then could he complete his mission. Only then could he gain his freedom.

  ***

  Aurora raced down the stairs and across the inner ward as if she were being chased by a demon. Tears rose in her eyes, blurring her vision. Villagers coming to work in the castle stepped out of her way as she crossed the courtyard, running full out. She didn’t care if Damien was following. All she knew was she had to get away from him. His touch had frightened her, because she had been so powerless to stop the overwhelming feelings of pleasure saturating her body.

  Aurora burst into the Keep and rushed down the hallway toward the safety and sanctity of her chambers. She could lock Damien out there. She could be alone to regain her composure so she could face him again. She ignored the startled glances of two servants, knowing she had to compose herself. She had to sort out the feelings whirling inside her, feelings that bombarded and confused her.

  Aurora raced up the steps, taking them two at a time. At the top of the stairs, she dashed to her chambers and slammed the door shut behind her, drawing the bolt across it.

  She stepped backward, away from the door, knowing at any moment Damien would come… and demand entrance. It was an entrance she could not give. Not now. She stepped back, away from the door. Her wide gaze was glued to the wooden barricade, waiting, anticipating.

  The handle of the door moved and Aurora jumped.

  “Aurora,” Damien called through the thick wood. “Let me in.”

  “No,” she answered, trying desperately to keep the tremble from her voice. “I will not open the door for you.”

  “At least let me in to search the room. Then I will leave you.”

  Aurora considered his request. But she could just imagine opening the door and seeing him there. All he had to do was look at her with those black, smoldering eyes and she would be lost. His words reminded her of her situation and she glanced warily around the room. Everything looked the same, but then so had the mug filled with poison, so had the forest before the assassin shot deadly arrows at them. She placed her hand on the bolt, prepared to draw it back… But stopped. How would she be able to resist his kisses? How could she stop her response to his touches?

  “Aurora?”

  “I can not,” she answered and let her hand drop away from the bolt.

  The door shook with fierce rage. And then, silence. She half expected shouting and cursing. Instead, there was nothing. Aurora pressed her forehead against the door. Just knowing Damien was out there was enough to bring her anguish. She wanted to open the door. She wanted his kisses and his touches. Those were the exact thoughts frightening her. With Damien, she could not maintain her composure; she could not be Lady of Acquitaine. She was betrothed to Count Ormand. She had to set an example for her people. She had to be strong and…

  A troubled groan escaped her lips.

  First, it had been the dagger Damien pressed so tightly to her neck. She guessed he had done it to teach her. He had been telling her not to trust anyone, including him. But she had known all along that he could never hurt her. And even with the dagger pressed to her throat, she could only feel sympathy for him.

  Then came his touch, hot and demanding. And frightening because she had wanted him to continue.

  There was quiet on the other side of the door.

  Aurora wondered if the silence through the thick wooden door was some sort of trick on Damien’s part to make her open the door. She stroked the door gently, imagining Damien’s skin beneath her fingers. Did she love him? Were these thoughts and feelings love?

  Muted conversation came from the other side of the door. Aurora pressed her ear to the timber. She heard Damien’s low voice and then… Then, she heard an answering voice. A woman’s voice.

  Dread and fear snaked up her spine. Helen.

  Silence spread through the hallway once again. Had Damien greeted Helen? Some niggling feeling inside Aurora’s chest made her reach for the bolt. Her hand hovered for a moment. Was he there waiting for her to open the door?

  Aurora did not think so. She heard the rumors of Helen’s licentious appetite. Aurora had tried to ignore the vicious gossip. Now the gossip rose to bait her imagination. She had seen the way Helen looked at Damien.

  Aurora slid the bolt aside and eased the door open. Through the crack, Aurora saw a sight that tightened her chest. Helen’s hand was twined around Damien’s arm as she led him down the corridor.

  Aurora stood, unsure. She didn’t know whether to follow them or command Helen away from Damien immediately. Slowly, she opened the door wide and waited for a moment. Helen must be giving Damien some valuable information about the attempts on her life. Maybe Helen was taking him to see her father. Aurora tried to rationalize their companionship.

  Helen continued to lead Damien down the hallway, toward her chambers.

  A crushing grief filled Aurora. She didn’t want to admit the truth. But she knew.

  She watched them round the corner and stepped out into the hallway. Quickly, she moved to the corner and peered around it. The hallway was empty.

  She started down the hallway, quietly. Moving slowly. Nothing. No sound.

  Aurora stopped just before Helen’s room. The door was ajar. She didn’t want to look. She didn’t want to see the sight she was certain would greet her. The light of a candle danced on the stone floor of the room. Like a finger wagging back and forth, it beckoned to her.

  She should not be spying. It was unlady-like. It was beneath her. She should not care what Damien did with other women.

  Aurora moved to Helen’s door as if compelled. A cold knot of dread coiled in her stomach. She had to look. She had to see. She had to know.

  Aurora peered into the room, being very careful not to touch the door lest it squeak. She thought she was prepared. She thought she was strong enough. But the sight of Helen wrapped around Damien, his lips smothering hers in a heated kiss, was more shocking than Aurora could have imagined. She watched for a moment, unable to tear her wounded gaze from them. Nausea rose violently inside her as she stumbled back from the doorway. The pain in her heart became a sick and fiery wrenching.

  The sight of the two lovers pressed so intimately together mocked her. Damien had only been toying with her. He never meant their kiss to mean anything.

  Aurora’s throat closed tightly as her vision blurred and she whirled, running smack into a man’s chest.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Helen tasted of fish and ale, not of the sweet honey he had tasted on Aurora’s lips. Damien set Helen back from him with a firm hand. He stared down into Hel
en’s brown eyes. Like many female eyes he had gazed into before, they were wanting, lusting, vindictive. There was no redemption for him in her eyes. “You said you had information regarding the assassination.”

  “I have ample knowledge. Maybe you should interrogate me.” She jutted out her ample breasts.

  Damien stared at her breasts. Helen’s mountainous bosom seemed like a gross aberration compared to Aurora’s perfectly sized breasts. He cursed again. “I must return to Lady Aurora.”

  Helen’s full lips pouted a practiced curve while her eyes flamed with annoyance. “She will remain in her room. There is no need to hurry back to her.”

  Damien shook his head.

  Helen scowled. “Yes, I understand. You have to run back to her side.”

  A sudden suspicion pulled at the edges of his thoughts. “You don’t like Lady Aurora, do you?”

  “Like her?” Helen took a deep breath, and crossed her arms as if embracing herself. “I don’t have to like her. She gets enough adoration from everyone else.” She grinned viciously, running a hand across Damien’s chest. “Imagine how she must feel now that I have something she wants.”

  Damien scowled. “What are you talking about?”

  Helen lifted her face to him, stepping in close to press her body against his. “You.” She lifted her lips for a kiss.

  Damien’s jaw clenched tightly. He didn’t like the malice in Helen’s tone.

  Helen wrapped her arms around Damien’s neck, smiling up at him. “She pretends like she has no interest in you. But I know.” She pressed a kiss against his stiff jaw. “She’s never looked at any man the way she looks at you.” Helen grinned coldly. “And now I am here with you.”

  “You are doing this to punish Lady Aurora? To hurt her?” Damien asked in shock.

  Helen pouted. “No one wants to hurt my dear cousin. Least of all me.”