Shame that he was related to Nicostratus and a stark fear that he might be like that Praetorian
bastardo
. Her heart ached for him, and despite all the anger and pain his betrayal had caused her, she wanted to ease his suffering. She took a step forward only to find herself fighting to remain standing as the tangible impact of his rage buffeted the space and silence between them.
It was dark and unmerciful in its intensity. Worse, it mimicked the hatred she’d sensed in Gabriel, and it frightened her. Not because she feared him, but because she was frightened for him. His rage was for Nicostratus, and she knew without any doubt that he intended to kill the man who’d sired him.
His green-colored gaze met hers, and the tormented anguish she saw there was the only emotion reflected in his expression. But she could still feel the powerful rage locked up inside him that was for the Praetorian Patriarch. She didn’t even have to ask the question. The next time he met his father, he’d do whatever it took to kill the man. He shook his head slightly, almost as if in denial, but he didn’t question the validity of her accusation.
“Does Ares know?”
“I don’t know.”
“He needs to be told.” There was a finality and hopelessness to his voice that alarmed her. He nodded his head as if coming to a decision. “I’ll reassign you to a new partner
immediately.”
The harsh rasp of his voice scraped across her senses with the sharpness of a finely honed blade. He was cutting her out of his life completely. The conflicted emotion sweeping through her made her shudder. De
us
, how could she walk away from him? She loved him so much. It wasn’t his Praetorian blood that bothered her. The blood in his veins might not be pure, but his heart was what mattered. He was Sicari. And no one, not even her, could question his loyalty to the Order.
It was his lack of trust that stung. Even now, he was showing he didn’t trust her to protect his back when they were working together. It infuriated her. She deserved better than that from him. And if he thought he could avoid her anger by giving her a new partner, he needed to have his head examined. They needed to work this out—together. It was the only way either of them would be able to come to terms with themselves and each other.
“I don’t want a new partner,” she said with quiet determination.
“As Le
gatus
, I make the assignments. You don’t have a choice.”
“And if you insist on reassigning me, I’ll demand D
ux Provocare
.” Challenging his ability to command probably wasn’t the smartest move she’d ever made. And facing him in a sword fight was idiotic, but there weren’t that many options open to her. She could only hope her intuition was right where he was concerned.
“You aren’t that foolish,” he said in low voice that was dark with fury.
“No?” She sent him a look of disgust and stalked toward the door. “Watch me.”
She took a step forward and he called her bluff. Invisible hands dragged her toward him until there was only an inch between the two of them. On some deeper level, she recognized his spicy scent and breathed it in. She met his gaze defiantly. If he expected her to cower, he was in for a rude awakening. A growl of anger rumbled deep in his chest.
“Damn it, Phaedra. Use your head. You’re in a hell of a lot more danger with me as a partner than if you’re working with someone else.”
“And exactly how do you figure that?”
“Because I’m going to be the Praetorian Dominus’s target every time we meet. He’s got it in for me, and eventually, he’s going to win. I can’t let you be with me when that happens, because I know what Gabriel’s intentions are.”
“His intentions?” She sniffed with irritation. “He wants me as a brood mare. Tell me something I
don’t
know. Like what y
our
intentions are.”
Surprise made him release his mental hold on her as he straightened upright in a rigid fashion and put some distance between them. “My intentions?”
“We’ve been lovers for more than two weeks now. Exactly what does that mean to you?” She sent up a small fervent prayer as she waited for him to tell her what she wanted to hear.
“If that’s your way of asking for the blood bond, it’s not going to happen.” His sharp reply sliced at her, and she struck back.
“So you’re just like that Praetorian Dominus
bastardo.
Is that it?”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” The angry words had the same force of a whip cracking in the air.
“Well, obviously you’ve just been using me for pleasure. Or maybe I’ve got it all wrong and there’s some other reason we’ve been sharing the same bed.”
“
Il Christi omnipotentia.
You know better.”
“Do I? You were the one to bring up Gabriel and his intentions. Exactly what am I supposed to think?”
“I am
not
him.” This time his voice echoed with a fury that vibrated the air between them.
“You’re right. You aren’t him. But at least that monster is honest about what he wants. You, on the other hand, lied to me. Made me believe … believe there was more to us than you ever intended.”
“I’ve already explained why I didn’t tell you.”
“My reaction. Right. And that tells me you thought I would betray you to the Order if you told me your secret.”
His expression became unreadable, and his neck muscles bunched tight with tension as he stared at her in silence. The only indication he was under any kind of strain was his ragged breathing. It made her think he might be in pain. Were his wounds from last night hurting him? She knew he’d refused the
Curavi
Violetta had offered him last night, and Phaedra was convinced it was a form of penance. She took a step toward him, and she saw his throat bob as he shook his head hard. Deus, he wasn’t going to give way at all.
“I told you why I didn’t tell you. If you’re looking for something more than that … I don’t have it to give.” It was a rejection. Plain and simple. It made her sag under the weight of it.
“Then there’s nothing more to say.” With as much dignity as she could muster, she
walked past him and headed toward the study door. Her hand on the doorknob, she looked at him over her shoulder. “Remember what I said. If you try to reassign me, I’ll call D
ux Provocare
. And t
his time
, I’m not bluffing.”
Not waiting for his response, she simply opened the door and left the room. The moment she was in the hall with the door closed quietly behind her, she bit back a cry at the pain assaulting every cell of her body. The force of it was almost crippling in its intensity. Stumbling forward, she made her way upstairs. Stubborn man. How could she forgive him if he didn’t want forgiveness? He cared about her, but he’d rejected her as neatly as he might have sliced open a Praetorian. She stopped in the upper hallway and stared at the door in front her. Ares and Emma’s door. She hesitated before knocking. What was she going to say to him? She didn’t know, but somehow she’d find a way to tell him. She rapped lightly on the door with her knuckles.
“You looking for me or Emma?” Her brother’s quiet question behind her startled her, and she jerked around to see Ares headed toward her with a somber expression on his face. She nodded.
“I was looking for you. I need to talk to you.”
“Come on in,” he said as he ushered her into the suite. “Emma’s in the library with Atia studying the artifact we found last night.”
“Oh.” It wasn’t exactly the response she meant to make, and Ares quirked his eyebrow at her.
“Okay, something’s bugging you. Out with it.”
“Can we sit down?”
He frowned and gestured toward the couch. She sank down on the cushions and stared at the bowl of red roses centered on the coffee table. Leaning forward, she absently stroked the velvety petals. The scent of the flowers reminded her how soft and feminine her mother had always smelled when she’d hugged her good night. She closed her eyes at the memory. It wasn’t fair that that
bastardo
was still alive and her parents were dead.
“What’s wrong, Phaedra?” Ares never called her by her full name unless he was really worried about her.
“How often do you think about Mom and Dad?” Her question was met by silence, and she turned her head to see Ares staring up into space. As if realizing she was watching him, he shrugged slightly.
“Not as often as I used to. They’re always there in the back of my mind, but it’s not every day. More like I’ll see something that reminds me of them.”
She looked back at the flowers, suddenly uncertain as to whether she should tell him what she knew. Did he really need to know? What if he hadn’t seen anything? It might affect his friendship with Lysander, and right now Lysander needed every friend he could get.
“Phaedra, if this is about Lysander’s father and Mom, I already know.” The harsh, unforgiving note in his voice wasn’t directed at her, but it troubled her just the same.
“How?”
“I knew the minute I heard Nicostratus’s voice. It’s not something you forget. I just didn’t realize you knew who he was. I thought maybe you’d managed to block that whole night out of your head.” His words sent relief spilling through her. He already knew. She didn’t have to tell him.
“I’ve never forgotten his face or his voice.”
“I should never have let you get close to that peephole.”
“You were in shock. You didn’t even realize I was looking until it was too late. I wanted to see Mom one last time. Just not like that.”
Her stomach lurched as she allowed the memories to swell over her. Eyes closed, a tear forced its way out from behind her eyelid and rolled down her cheek. Ares’s hand squeezed hers for a brief moment, and the brotherly love in the gesture warmed her heart.
“And Lysander?” she asked quietly. “How do you feel about him?”
“Do you mean the fact that he has Praetorian blood?”
She shrugged. “Not so much that, but the fact that his father … it doesn’t bother you?”
“Lysander didn’t have anything to do with Mom and Dad’s death. It’s not his fault that bastard raped his mother.” He eyed her carefully. “I got the impression that the two of you were pretty close. He didn’t tell you?”
“No,” she said as she averted her gaze from her brother’s curious look. “He didn’t trust me with his secret. And a relationship requires trust. We don’t have that.”
“You need to cut the guy some slack, Phae. He’s been living with this for a year, now. It had to be hard, trying to reconcile himself to who his real father is, losing the father figure he had growing up.”
“But he could have told me. Instead, he sent me away that night in Genova.”
“
Christus
, Phaedra, the guy went through one hell of a torture session. Two of his men died, and Marta was taken. On top of that, he was dealing with the fear of discovery and
how people would react.” Ares shook his head in disgust. “Look how all of us reacted last night, and this morning. Can you blame the guy for not trusting anyone with his secret?”
She winced. Ares was right. She was angry because he hadn’t trusted her, not because he was part Praetorian. And her reaction last night had simply proven he’d been right not to trust her. It was a painful truth.
“Lysander might have Praetorian blood, but he’s Sicari through and through. And that’s all you need to know.”
As she met her brother’s dark gaze, she nodded. She loved Lysander. Just like Ares had said, Lysander was still the same man. He hadn’t changed, but everyone else had, including her. She’d failed him. She’d always accused him of running, and yet she’d been running like mad since last night. Now she had to find a way to make him see that. Make him trust her. She didn’t know how she was going to do that, but she’d find a way.
Chapter 22
ANCIENT ROME
OCTOBER 28, 312 A .D.
MAXIMUS watched his tribune race toward him with a sickening sensation in his gut.
The mere fact that Tevy was alone told him the worst. Cassiopeia and Demetri were
gone. Slumping forward in his saddle, he closed his eyes against the pain. An image of
Cassiopeia fluttered through his head, her sultry smile tempting him as her hand
beckoned him to come to her.
Grief tore at him like the rabid dogs would soon tear at the rotting flesh of the men he’d
left behind at the Tiber River. His hands clutched at his horse’s mane to prevent himself
from wheeling the animal around and charging back toward Constantine’s guards-men.
As much as he wanted to die at this moment, there was something more important he had
to do. Octavian had to be dealt with.
The grief inside him slowly melted into a raw fury that slid hot and fiery through his
veins. He would tear Octavian’s heart out with his bare hands for the bastard’s
treachery. Resolved to destroy the man who’d taken everything from him, he straightened
in his saddle and waited for Tevy to reach him. As his tribune’s horse slid to a stop, he
noted the animal was foaming at the mouth, a sign that Tevy had ridden the mare hard.
“Where are they?” he asked, fully expecting his tribune to tell him his wife and son were
at home being prepared for their funeral.
“The neighbors say your man, Posca, smuggled the boy out of the house just before
Octavian and his men arrived. The
domina
was taken to Octavian’s house.” Tevy’s words
pierced his grief with a ray of hope. They were alive. Renewed energy strengthened him
as a plan of action formed in his mind.
“Posca will keep Demetri safe until we find them. We’ll recover the
Tyet of Isis
after
Cassiopeia is safe and Octavian is dead.”
“The
domina is
no longer at Octavian’s home.” Tevy averted his gaze as he continud.
“He’s had her taken to the Saepta Julia. I had your men follow them, while I came to find
you.”
