Angel's Assassin (20 page)

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Authors: Laurel O'Donnell

Tags: #romance, #historical romance, #medieval romance, #laurel odonnell

BOOK: Angel's Assassin
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Damien grit his teeth. He should have heard
him, Harold was right on that account. He would not make that
mistake again. “Where is Lord Gabriel?”

Harold’s smile was more of a grimace. He
approached Damien. “At this hour? Most likely crapping out his
evening meal.”

This time, Damien heard the others. He
swiveled his gaze from left to right. There was one man wearing a
faded brown tunic approaching from Damien’s right. The man paused
to spit and when he wiped his mouth, Damien noticed the gold rings
on his fingers. On Damien’s left, another man approached, cracking
his knuckles. His dark beard hung to his mid chest, trimmed to a
point.

“You see, we have discovered something,”
Harold guffawed.

Damien’s fists clenched.

“We’ve discovered that you are no longer
needed.” Harold stopped a few feet from Damien.

“You are endangering Lady Aurora’s life by
taking me away from her,” Damien warned quietly.

“That is where you are wrong,” Harold hissed.
“Castle Acquitaine is full of very willing and able guards to
protect Lady Aurora.”

“Where were all these willing and able guards
when the assassins tried to kill her?” Damien growled. “Where were
you?”

Harold straightened, his jaw clenched.

“You can talk about saving Aurora. But I have
proven myself. Now get out of my way so I can return to my
duty.”

Harold’s lip curled in hatred. “Your duty
will end shortly.”

“This is not a game. It is not a tournament.
Lady Aurora’s life is in danger. There are people who will kill
her. And you are preventing me from protecting her.”

“There are better men than you to protect
her.”

The beast inside Damien stirred. “Your
jealousy has put Aurora in danger before. I will not allow that to
happen again.” Damien moved forward to brush by Harold.

Harold planted a hand squarely on Damien’s
chest to shove him back.

Damien grabbed Harold’s wrist and twisted.
Harold went down to his knee, grimacing.

The other two men jumped on Damien, pushing
him to the ground. He caught a blow in his stomach, which was
ineffectual, as he had steeled himself against the attack. This is
what he was trained for. He was a fighter. The beast roared forth
from inside of him and he hammered an elbow into one of the men’s
face. He hoped it was Harold. A satisfying cry followed his
movement.

Another blow slammed into his side and then
another into his back. One of the two men on top of him, probably
the one he hit in the face, pulled back, giving Damien all the room
he needed. He swept his elbow around and rolled, swinging his arm
out to shove the other man aside. The one man crashed into the
other, flying off of him. Damien leapt to his feet.

A stunning blow to his jaw almost felled him,
but Damien used the impetus to counter with his left.

Harold went down beneath the solid connection
to his cheek.

Damien had been taught to use either his left
or his right hand in battle. He had learned, also, to force pain
aside. The raging beast was another matter. It bellowed for
vindication; it demanded death.

Damien grabbed Harold by the tunic collar and
hauled him to his feet, blasting two more blows into his face
before the man even had time to put up his hands.

Damien heard the footsteps approaching behind
him. He released Harold, and instinctively ducked. He heard a
whoosh and struck out with his foot, slamming the pointed beard man
back. He rammed his elbow into the ringed man’s stomach and heard a
grunt as it landed its mark.

Damien turned and looked down at the bearded
man. He was struggling to his feet, a shovel clutched in his hand.
A weapon. In Damien’s world, at Castle Roke, that would mean death.
Any weapon could be used to end a life and if the combatants chose
to use one during a battle, it turned into a match to the death.
Damien snarled.

The bearded man faced Damien, his eyes
glowing as darkly hateful as Harold’s. He would not surrender. And
Damien did not want him to. The beast demanded retribution. It
wanted blood.

The bearded man began to circle to Damien’s
right. Damien did not move. He followed him with his eyes, every
one of his senses heightened. He heard a shuffle behind him as
either Harold or the ringed man attempted to surround him. Foolish
rogues. They had no idea who they faced.

A movement to Damien’s left heralded another
attack. Damien held up his arm, blocking the swing from Harold.
Damien countered with an upper cut.

The bearded man rushed forward, his shovel
held high.

Damien swung Harold around, catapulting him
into the bearded man. Both men fell amidst a tangle of arms and
legs.

Damien whirled on the ringed man, freezing
him in the midst of a full out run with a mere look. The man
nodded, put his hands up and backed away. Damien turned to Harold
and the bearded man. He approached them like a thundercloud,
tumultuous and dangerous.

Harold pushed the man with the shovel off of
him, just in time for Damien to grab his tunic and pull him
close.

The bearded man reached for the shovel, but
Damien stepped on the man’s hand as he grasped the handle. Damien
growled at him, putting all his weight into a sharp downward step.
A crunching of bone sounded and the bearded man hollered. Damien
lifted his foot.

The bearded man clasped his mangled fingers
to his chest and retreated.

Damien’s gaze shifted with a predatory
intensity to Harold.

“What are you going to do? Kill me?” Harold
demanded.

Damien pulled him close. “Isn’t that what I
promised?”

Harold’s confidence slipped. His gaze
swiveled as he searched for the others, but when he saw his
companions gone, his cockiness vanished. “It won’t matter what you
do to me,” Harold whispered with savagery. “You won’t have a duty
here any longer and that will be reward enough.”

Damien knew he could kill Harold with a quick
twist of his neck. Or he could slam the palm of his hand up into
his nose and drive his bone into his brain. There were perhaps a
half dozen ways he could take Harold’s life. But what would Aurora
think of him if he did? “Your threats mean nothing to me.”

“They are not threats,” Harold laughed. “Once
Lady Aurora and Count Ormand are discovered, he will be the one to
–”

Damien stiffened. Ormand and Aurora
discovered? Realization speared through him. This had not been a
trap only for him! He released Harold and raced across the inner
ward. Aurora! If Ormand touched her. If he so much as lay a hand on
her…

 

Chapter Twenty
Five

 

 

A
urora wiped
her hands on the cloth and set it back beside the basin on the
table. When she turned to Ormand, she could have sworn he had been
grinning at her. His smile disintegrated and he took a step
forward, his brow furrowed in concern. “Have you been
crying?”

Aurora looked away. “I’m just tired…” she
whispered. It wasn’t really a lie. Physical and emotional
exhaustion drained her.

“Yes, it is late,” Ormand said, but there was
no concern in his voice. He approached, his intent look sweeping
down and up her body.

A sudden tingle of apprehension sliced
through her and Aurora realized they were alone, truly alone, for
the first time.

He stopped before her, reaching out to
capture her hand in his. “You were alone with Damien.”

It was a statement and Aurora didn’t feel it
merited a response.

He stroked her hand, running his thumb up and
down her palm. His hold on her wrist tightened. “I am displeased
about this.”

“Damien and I were speaking. There was
nothing improper about it.”

Ormand’s eyes flashed in the candlelight.
“The door was closed and the two of you were alone. I think you
fancy him too much.”

Aurora didn’t like the angry undertone in his
voice. She tried to pull her hand free. “Damien and I were talking.
There is nothing improper for you to be concerned about.”

His grip tightened on her wrist. Darkness
crept into his blue eyes. “Yet, in the forest he was half naked. It
was quite inappropriate. Think of how it would look to someone who
did not know you.”

Aurora narrowed her eyes and yanked her hand
free. “What are you trying to say?”

He straightened to his full height and looked
down at her. “I am saying I do not like the fact you were alone in
your chambers with a man who has no reservations about shedding his
clothing in your presence.”

“I hardly think taking his shirt off is
shedding his clothing.”

“Nevertheless,” Ormand argued. “It is
offensive to me.”

“Do you think I will fall in love with him
simply because he takes his shirt off? Because I can most certainly
assure you that I will not.”

“Love?” Ormand questioned. “Who said anything
about love?” He looked at her for a long moment. “I simply worry
for your safety, my dear. You must admit we know virtually nothing
of him. He could be a black hearted rogue for all we know –”

“But he is not.”

“Or a rapist. And to let him stay –”

“I hardly think that a rapist or a black
hearted rogue would save me from death just to have his way with
me.”

Ormand stared thoughtfully at Aurora for
another long moment. “I must wonder about your judgment these last
days.” He took a step closer to her. “You seem to be allowing any
manner of man into your room.”

Aurora crossed her arms. “I am insulted,
Count Ormand. My judgment is rational, as always.”

“Is it?” he wondered and took another step
closer to her. “When you make yourself so available by inviting men
into your bed chambers at night that sends the wrong message.” His
gaze dropped to her lips before moving back to her eyes.

A shiver of warning coursed through Aurora.
She didn’t like the way he looked at her, as if he were gazing upon
his favorite food. She stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated
by him.

Ormand’s gaze swept further down her body,
lingering on her chest before returning to her eyes. “I will be a
very devoted husband.”

He was far too close. With the bed behind her
and Ormand before her, Aurora felt like a caged canary. “I am sure
you will make a fine husband.”

Ormand grinned. “Very fine.”

Oh, Lord. She was in trouble. He leaned
toward her, his lips puckered. Aurora moved quickly to the side,
away from his kiss. “I am flattered, Count, but I think we should
wait until after we are married. After all, what will my people
think?”

Ormand scowled. “I am afraid on this matter I
must insist.” He darted between her and the door.

“I think you should leave my room,” she
commanded.

“Not quite yet,” Ormand said dangerously. “I
haven’t gotten what I came for.” He reached out with the intention
of capturing her.

Aurora backed from his grasp and scrambled
across the bed, racing for the door. She clasped the handle and
pulled the door open.

Ormand placed a hand on the door and slammed
it shut. “I mean to have you as my wife. And I will do what it
takes to ensure that happens.”

Aurora whirled. “You have the audacity to
call Damien black hearted. That title belongs to you.”

Ormand’s lips thinned. He grabbed her
arms.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, hitting
Aurora in the back. She jerked forward, slamming her chin into
Ormand’s lips. He fell backward hard and Aurora landed on top of
him. She quickly rolled away from the count and looked up.

Damien stood in the doorway, his dark eyes
burning with fury, his jaw clenched tight. He looked like a
tenuously chained beast bent on murder. Behind the murderous rage,
relief flickered in his dark orbs as he gazed at her.

Aurora gasped, reaching out a hand to
him.

Damien was at her side in an instant,
clasping her hand and helping her to her feet. His furious gaze
swept over her, touching every feature, every strand of hair,
searching. “Are you hurt?” he asked in a remarkably restrained
voice.

Aurora shook her head.

Ormand stood, drawing Damien’s gaze. Every
muscle of Damien’s body chorded, ready to pounce.

“That bastard set me up,” Damien snarled.
“Your father wasn’t in the stables.”

Aurora noticed the blood on Damien’s lip and
her heart leapt in concern. Her gaze scanned his body, but there
were no further signs of injury.

“Aurora?”

Aurora turned to see her father in the open
doorway.

Gabriel scowled. “Count Ormand’s man informed
me Damien abandoned his post.”

Damien growled low in his throat.

Aurora shook her head. “It was all Ormand’s
doing,” Aurora proclaimed. “He told Damien you wanted to speak to
him in the stables.”

“The stables?” Gabriel echoed.

“He was going to compromise me,” Aurora
said.

Rage rolled off Damien, thick and hot.

Gabriel gasped.

Damien jerked forward, but Aurora caught his
arm.

Ormand locked eyes with her, feigning shock
and surprise.

“Ormand had his men fetch you, Father, with
the intention of finding Ormand and I together. I would have had no
choice but to wed Ormand immediately, in shame.”

Ormand’s face slowly reddened. “This… this is
madness. I have every respect for Lady Aurora. I would never –”

“Sir Harold and two others ambushed me on the
way to the stables. They’ll confirm his plan,” Damien said between
clenched teeth.

Ormand stuttered.

Gabriel moved forward. “Is this true?

Ormand opened his mouth and then closed it,
his gaze moving from person to person. Finally, he drew himself up
beneath their contempt. “I did it for her own good! Look at him!”
He flicked a hand at Damien. “A commoner! Allowed into her room.
Alone. Disrespectable.”

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