Assassin's Honor (27 page)

           
"I'm sorry."

           
"Not half as sorry as we're both going to be," he growled. Something bad was going to happen. She could see it in his stormy blue gaze as he cleaned the blade of his sword with a cloth he'd pulled out of his pants pocket. Grim-faced, he eyed her coldly. "Hold out your hand, Emma."

           
"Why?" She eyed him with suspicion.

           
"You lost the right to ask questions the minute you interfered," he rasped.

           
She winced as her wrist ached beneath an invisible vise for a brief moment before the pressure was gone. Swallowing hard, she slowly extended her hand. His
gaze harsh, she flinched as he forced her hand open
wide with his unseen touch. A low murmur erupted from the crowd, but it was a startled cry of protest that made her instinctively turn her head. Phae was watching them with an expression of horror.

           
In that moment, fire blazed across Emma's palm. With a scream of pain, she jerked her head back toward her hand to see blood flowing from a gash across her palm. Her gaze flew upward to Ares's unreadable features. He'd cut her. He'd used his goddamn sword to slice her palm open.

           
"You cut me," she choked out. Without thinking, she swung at him but an unseen hand easily deflected her blow.
"You son of a bitch.
You tell me to trust you, and then you cut me?"

           
"Be quiet and keep your palm open, Emma." It was a command, and his cold, deliberate manner made her obey him despite her anger and pain.

           
"Vena vinculum," he said quietly before he proceeded to slice open his own hand.

           
Appalled, she backed away from him. It was a pointless effort as a familiar, invisible pressure on her arm jerked her forward until she was within an inch of his hard, tension-filled body. Despite his insane actions, the raw maleness of him still managed to send her heart slamming into her chest. But it was his cold, unflinching gaze that alarmed her. This was a true Sicari assassin.
A man capable of killing.
Yet for some bizarre reason, she didn't fear for her life. He was furious with her, but there was also a glimmer of solace in his eyes. She trembled as he pressed his wounded hand against her cut tightly, their blood flowing as one.

           
"Repeat after me."
The dark authority in his voice edged its way along her nerve endings. "I accept the blood bond of Ares DeLuca."

           
Despite her fear and confusion, she rebelled. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

           
"Say it, Emma, or I'll turn you over to the Order without another thought." The implacable expression on his face made her believe he meant every word. And whatever turning her over to the Order meant
,
she was certain it wouldn't be good.

           
"I accept the blood bond of Ares DeLuca. Whatever the hell that means." This last part she muttered beneath her breath.

           
"It means I just saved your life. Again," Ares said sharply as he raised their clasped hands high in the air and shouted,
" Vena
vinculum ."

           
She flinched. Whatever he'd saved her
from,
his dark scowl said he wasn't happy about it.
Definitely bad news for when he got her alone.
Worse, the crowd encircling them erupted in low rumblings of dark disapproval. Not a good sign either. She tried to pull free of Ares's grasp, but he tightened his hand around hers to hold her firmly at his side.

           
Out of the crowd, the regal, silver-haired lady she'd seen earlier walked forward at a stately pace. Her hand went up in a command of silence as she halted in front of them. The crowd obeyed. Her stern gaze fixed on
Ares,
she studied him for a moment then turned toward Emma.

           
"Do you accept the blood bond this man has offered you?"

           
Oh lord, if this was some sort of Sicari marriage ceremony--she shook her head vehemently. The woman arched her eyebrows at Ares, and the pressure on Emma's hand grew painfully tight.

           
"Answer her," Ares growled. The harsh command warned her to respond in the affirmative. As much as she wanted to object, an internal voice warned her now wasn't the time for rebellion.

           
"Ye . . . sss."
She sent Ares a fiery look, but his chiseled expression said he could care less.

           
"Very well."
The woman nodded her head then looked at Ares with a questioning look in her eyes. "And you, Ares. Do you accept the responsibility that comes with this blood bond?"

           
He nodded sharply. Emma frowned at the sudden gleam of approval in the woman's eyes. Why did she seem pleased by Ares's behavior when everyone else was angry? And what the hell kind of responsibility was she talking about? The woman turned slowly to survey the crowd.

           
"The trial shall begin. Who will stand for the transgressor?"

           
"I will." Ares's
voice rang out loud and clear
in the night air.

           
"If you do so, her fate is yours. Are you prepared for the consequences?"
The matron's eyebrows arched in an imperialistic manner.

           
Emma shook her head.
Fate?
Whose fate--hers.
Suddenly, she realized this blood bonding rite wasn't about marriage at all. It was about something altogether different, and she didn't like where any of it was leading.

Chapter 12

           
HIS shoulder was on fire, again. He'd let his guard down on purpose, believing Maximus would know he was simply helping him save face in front of the Order. The Sicari warrior had figured it out after Emma had interfered. Anger tugged a low growl from him.

           
Emma . . . Christus, it had been a miracle he'd managed to keep from throttling her. He'd told her not to interfere. Yet she'd thrown herself into the middle of the fight, thinking he needed saving. Deep in the recesses of his mind, a small voice reminded him that she'd willingly put her life on the line simply because she believed him in mortal danger. It took courage to do that. And even something else. Not a thought to explore--particularly right now.

           
He suppressed a sigh of disgust. It changed nothing.
She'd interfered in a Dux Provocare and jeopardized her own life by her actions, no matter how well-intentioned her motives.
Emma jerked her hand from his with an unintelligible exclamation. The action accentuated the protesting nerve endings in his palm.
The blood bond.
If she'd listened to him, all of this would have been avoided. She erupted with fury as she glared first at him and then at the Prima Consul.

           
"Damn it, will someone tell me what the hell is going on here?"

           
"You are on trial, Miss Zale."

           
Ares studied the Prima Consul's expression as she eyed Emma with that piercing silver gaze of hers. After the murder of his parents, he'd spent a lot of time pinned beneath that assessing look. His godmother hadn't been the Prima Consul then, but Atia had still been a formidable woman when she'd taken him and Phae into her own home.

           
"Trial?
For what?"
Emma exclaimed with disbelief.

           
"You interfered in a Dux Provocare, which is strictly forbidden."

           
"You can't be serious," Emma snapped. "I didn't interfere. Ares was about to lose his life because of me. I couldn't let that happen."

           
"An admirable motivation, but ignorance of the Order's law does not excuse your transgression." His godmother turned her sharp gaze on him in a look of clear reproof. "For almost two thousand years, the Dux Provocare has ensured loyalty and strengthened the leadership of our Order. Interference cannot go unpunished even for aliena."

           
Fotte.
That wasn't altogether true. As Prima Consul, Atia had the authority to mitigate the punishment. He'd just not been willing to bet Emma's life on Atia's generosity. Was his godmother angry that he hadn't trusted her with Emma's life or because he'd performed the blood bond? He knew he'd bent the rules tonight. Merda, he'd done a lot more than bend the rules. At least the punishment for Emma's crime and his unsanctioned blood bond with her was the same. They wouldn't make him do the gauntlet twice--would they? He drew in a deep breath and tightened his jaw. It wasn't like he'd had much of a choice.

           
Despite her good intentions, Emma had committed the ultimate sin against the Sicari Order.
A seditious act.
It had been more than a hundred years since someone had tried to stop a Dux Provocare. Then it had been a Praetorian defector attempting to save his Sicari wife. The man had barely survived the penalty handed out for such an offense. Emma wouldn't have stood a prayer without the blood bond, and the Order would never have agreed to let him champion her otherwise.

           
"What's done is done." He met his godmother's sharp gaze with defiance.

           
"Agreed," Atia said in a crisp tone. "Yet we still must resolve the issue of this trial."

           
"Get on with it then," Ares snarled. "As the Prima Consul, you have the right to set aside the trial and move directly to the sentencing."

           
"Ah, so I do," Atia murmured as her mouth thinned with what he knew was more than displeasure. She was worried for him. "But a trial would afford you some respite."

           
"We both know the delay will be of little use."

           
His godmother drew in a sharp breath and glared at him. "You always were hardheaded. I know the Dux Provocare took its toll on your ability."

           
"I'll manage."

           
Normally calm and serene, Atia uttered a sound of fury. The unusual response expressed her fear for him more than anything else she might have done or said. With a sharp movement, his godmother turned to face the Sicari surrounding them.

           
"The aliena has been judged and found guilty. Her blood bond with Ares DeLuca gives her the right to choose him as her champion."

           
Beside him, Emma made a choked sound of anger. "That's it? No defense?
Nothing?
That's not justice."

           
"There's no point. The law is the law," Atia said harshly as she whirled around to eye Emma with an icy look. "
Be
grateful Ares chose to break our law against blood bonding with alieni. Otherwise, it would be you running the gauntlet."

           
Concern darkened her silvery gaze as Atia stared at him for a long moment. The unspoken message in her eyes warned him to take care. His barely perceptible nod seemed to satisfy her. Resignation flashed in her gaze before his godmother turned and walked away without a backward glance. In a flurry of movement, the gathering erupted with activity. Emma jerked her gaze toward him as a large group of Sicari fighters formed two long lines a short distance away.

           
"Gauntlet?" she asked sharply. "As in running between two lines of men who beat you with clubs?"

           
"Not exactly."
He met her gaze and looked away.

           
Clubs would be infinitely preferable to swords. At least each warrior only got one shot at him, but it would be more than enough when he had no defenses to speak of at the moment. Merda, he should have left her in Chicago. She'd be safe and he'd be on his way back to the Wacker Drive complex. She blew out a low noise of exasperation.

           
"Damn it, Ares," she hissed. "Either you tell me what the hell is going on here or I'm going to make you sorry you ever met me."

           
"Emma, at this moment a part of me is already sorry, particularly since this isn't an ordinary gauntlet," he said wryly.

           
A lie.
He was beginning to excel at it where she was concerned. The truth was he wasn't sorry at all. He'd made himself responsible for her safety, and he'd done what was necessary. No, it was more than that. There was something about her that aroused every protective instinct in his body. He could call it responsibility all he wanted, but in the end, he knew it came down to something much more. A door slammed in his head as he locked his thoughts into a dark room. His gaze flickered toward the Sicari fighters. The warriors had formed two lines, facing off with the fighter opposite them. The result was a narrow corridor wide enough for three people to walk through abreast. She turned her head and paled visibly as the warriors drew their swords