Assassin's Honor (9 page)

           
"Deus damno id," he snarled. "He went against my direct order. I told him to stay away from that warehouse until you or I had time to assess the activity levels."

           
"Octavia hacked into the airport's cargo database. The Institute received some large items from Cairo late this afternoon."

           
Merda.
Knowing Julian, he'd seen something and decided to check it out without permission. He was going to skin the fighter alive when he caught up with the man.

           
"Can you handle it on your own?" He tensed as he debated whether to leave Emma to an unknown fate for even a brief period of time.

           
"Thaddeus returned from New York just before dinner, so I'll take him and Bastien with me."

           
"Good, I'm not finished here," he replied. A long silence drifted out of the phone, and he could easily visualize the stoic look on Lysander's scarred face as he debated asking any additional questions.

           
"And the Tyet of Isis?"

           
"She doesn't have it." Another quiet pause followed his response.

           
"I see." Even with such a noncommittal reply, Lysander said a great deal. "As soon as I find Julian, I'll be in touch."

           
His second-in-command didn't wait for an answer and broke the connection. Fingers wrapped tightly around the SUV's steering wheel, he studied Emma's well-lit front porch. Christus, when would Julian learn he couldn't go rogue whenever he got the urge. The Order didn't like it when guild members acted in an unrestrained manner. He knew that from personal experience. But it was more than that. Everyone in the guild knew he despised undisciplined behavior. Julian had the potential to be a great Legatus, but his renegade behavior was putting more than just his own life in danger. Now others were involved.

           
Beside him, Phae sat rigid in her seat with her gaze fixed on the wet road. She and Julian were good friends. At times Ares thought the two of them might even wind up married, but Phae always did something to sidestep the issue when Julian pressured her to take their relationship to the next level.

           
"He'll be fine, Phae," he said with quiet reassurance. "He's foolhardy, but he's got good instincts."

           
She bobbed her head in a sharp nod. Although the tension radiating off her eased somewhat, her lips had thinned with anger. Suddenly he felt sorry for Julian. Phae could be merciless when it came to castigating people, and something told him his sister would have a lot to say to her friend the next time she saw him. Returning his gaze to the front of Emma's house, resignation tightened his mouth.

           
He had a feeling Emma would have a lot to say to him as well. The sudden memory of her soft curves pressed into his body jolted its way through him. He didn't like the way she made him feel. It made him uneasy to discover his senses were under fire. Not even Clarissa had affected him the way Emma did.

           
Clarissa. Her death might not rest entirely at his feet, but he'd failed to take appropriate precautions where she was concerned. If he had, she might still be alive. The irony of it all was that the man who'd raped Clarissa before slitting her throat hadn't even been a Praetorian. He'd been just another depraved bastard inflicting random pain on society. It hadn't taken much to hunt the son of a bitch down and rid humanity
of one more blight
.

           
But then Clarissa's killer really hadn't stood a chance. Ares's connections had made it easy to find her assailant in less than forty-eight hours. One couldn't be an assassin without knowing people on both sides of the law. Not until the night he caught up with Clarissa's murderer had he ever taken pleasure in a kill. The man had died crying for mercy.

           
At the time, he hadn't given a damn. He'd only taunted the bastard, taken his time splaying him open one piece of flesh at a time, just like a Praetorian would. But now--He dragged in a breath of remorse as the man's terrified face flashed through his head.

           
He'd overstepped the boundaries of the Sicari code of honor. Not only had he failed to ask the man's forgiveness, he'd killed the man out of revenge and he'd enjoyed hurting the man who'd killed Clarissa. That was something a Sicari never did. Phae cleared her throat softly.

           
"So what are you going to tell her about the Order?
The guild?"

           
"As little as possible.
She already knows too much as it is."

           
"Too much?"
Although she took care not to openly confront him, he heard the note of censure in his sister's voice. "Why do I have the feeling you're not telling me everything about Emma Zale?"

           
The accuracy of Phae's observation made him shift uncomfortably in the seat. Avoiding the penetrating gaze of his sister's violet eyes, he continued to watch for any unusual activity on the street. For some unexplained reason he didn't want to reveal Emma's skill. He trusted Phae implicitly, but something held him back. He wanted Emma to trust him, and that meant keeping her secret until she said otherwise. Remembering what was in his coat
pocket,
he pulled it out and offered it to his sister.

           
"Tell me what you make of this."

           
"What is it?" Phae pulled out a small flashlight from her coat pocket to examine the artifact in the light. A soft gasp echoed out of her as she studied the object. "Dulis Mater Dei, another Sicari Lord coin. Where did you get this?"

           
"It was in Russwin's possessions. Emma doesn't know where he got it. I'll have Sandro review the man's diary to see if he notated finding it."

           
"And she just gave it to you?" The amazement in her voice made him flex his jaw.

           
"No." He remembered Emma's display of anger when she realized the coin was missing. Regret nipped at him, and he didn't like it. He'd return the damn thing after the guild had time to study it. Phae sent him an inquisitive look, but didn't question him when he turned his head away from her.

           
He stared out at the neat row of houses lining the street of Emma's neighborhood. Until Russwin's death last month there had only been one known medallion bearing the Sicari Lord's icon on the back of the coin with the Roman Emperor Constantine on the front. The first one was in a vault in the Order's main headquarters in Genova, Italy. Now there were three.

           
"Do you think the Zale woman knows anything about the coins?" Phae studied the small antiquity more intently in the beam of her flashlight.

           
"If she does, she wasn't exactly in the mood to share anything with me."

           
"If I were her, I suppose I wouldn't have been too happy with you either." His sister released a quiet sound of disgust. "Maybe taking her to our place isn't such a bad idea after all."

           
This last bit she mumbled beneath her breath, but he heard it just the same. Turning his head, he eyed her chagrined expression. In the glow of her penlight, Phae's face flushed with color. When he didn't say anything, she shrugged.

           
"Okay, I was wrong. Taking her with us is the right thing to do."

           
Phae turned off her flashlight and handed the coin back to him. Apologies weren't his sister's forte, and he knew how difficult they were for her to make. For him it was enough she'd admitted being wrong. Now, he just needed to convince Emma to come with him to the safe house. He threw his head back against the headrest in a gesture of frustration. If his gut was anything to go by, he'd find it easier to do battle with a Praetorian than persuading Emma Zale to do something she didn't want to do. Phae had been right. He was going to have Sandro and Octavia's heads.

Chapter 5

           
FURIOUS, Emma uttered a vicious cry of anger and slammed her fist into the desk one more time.
The bastard.
How could she have been so stupid? If she ever saw him again, she'd read him the riot act. She closed her eyes and bowed her head as she gripped the edge of the desk. God, she was beginning to think she belonged on a psych ward.

           
What if she'd dreamed up the coin, the stranger, all of it? It wasn't as if her life had been all that calm and serene of late. Charlie's death could have easily traumatized her to the point she'd gone over the edge. Christ, of course she wasn't crazy.
At least not yet.
But if that blond Lucifer showed up again, she'd--

           
"Is there anything wrong, my dear?"

           
Ewan's voice echoed behind her, and she jumped with surprise. As she saw the look of concern on his face, she waved her hand and shook her head.

           
"I'm fine. Well, at least I think I'm fine," she said in disgust. "The coin is missing. I left it right here on my desk
earlier,
and now it's gone."

           
"Perhaps it's buried underneath all these papers."

           
Ewan stepped forward and started to riffle through the things on her desk. For some reason, his actions annoyed her deeply. Leaning forward, she grasped his wrist and squeezed. The way her fingers gripped Ewan's arm reminded her of the stranger and how easily he'd controlled her. The memory of how he'd manipulated her made her uneasy. She'd been powerless to stop him, and she didn't like feeling helpless.

           
"It's not on the desk, Ewan." She sighed as she released his arm. With a frown she stared down at the cluttered desk made worse by her friend's haphazard search. Her desk hadn't been immaculate, but the cipher she'd buried under a stack of papers was now in plain view. Ewan made a noise of interest as he spotted the notepaper. Not really understanding why, Emma quickly reached for the coded message and tucked it into her jeans pocket. She looked up to see him arch his brow at her.

           
"That looked rather interesting."

           
"It's just a cipher Dad made for me," she murmured with an apologetic glance in his direction. "I found it earlier this evening."

           
"Ah, yes. I remember him telling me about the puzzles he designed for you."

           
"It's been a long time since I've had one to decipher, and that makes this one special." Her breath hitched as she accepted the finality of the words.

           
Ewan lightly touched her shoulder. "It's quite all right, my dear. I understand. As for the coin, it will turn up soon enough."

           
"I suppose you're right."

           
Without any protest, she allowed him to guide her out of the study. For once, Ewan was wrong. The medallion wasn't going to turn up unless the stranger came back. He'd been spinning a tale bigger than the Pyramids. Hell, even Charlie, for all his storytelling skills, couldn't top the stranger's believability. And she had believed him--all that BS about her being in danger--it had been nothing more than a scam to get the coin. Well, maybe not all of it. His ability seemed real enough.

           
"I believe you need another drink." Ewan interrupted her thoughts as he guided her out into the hall and toward the foyer. "In fact, I'm going to leave you to get quite trollied. It will help you get a solid night's sleep. Something I'm certain you haven't gotten in a number of weeks. Am I correct?"

           
"God, I hate your arrogance sometimes, Ewan." She brushed off his fatherly touch.
"Especially when you're right."

           
She muttered this last bit, which made him chuckle. "I understand it can be difficult to put up with me, my dear Emma, but I have nothing but your best interests at heart."

           
"I know that, and I'm grateful."

           
They came to a halt in the foyer and Ewan took his coat off the rack. He shrugged into the garment and turned to face her. With a nod toward the whiskey bottle on the coffee table, he eyed her sternly.

           
"Then heed my advice. Alcohol is an excellent sedative and my guess is you could stand a good night's sleep given the circles under your eyes."

           
"Flattery will get you everywhere," she said in disgust.

           
"Don't be snide," he said. "You need sleep. As for Stuart, I'll talk to him. I might as well use my clout for something. The man's a fool to think you belong in the classroom."

           
She smiled at the umbrage in her friend's voice as she opened the front door for him. The two men had despised each other for years. "Thank you, Ewan--for everything. It means a lot."