Assassin's Honor (44 page)

           
Something dark reared its head deep in the back of his mind. It was more a sensation than a thought. A chill slid down his back, and he froze. He peered out into the darkness, the uneasy feeling not going away.

           
"Lysander.
Bastien.
Report," he said in a low staccato voice. He ignored Phae's look of concern as he waited for a response.

           
"All clear," his Primus Pilus said with quiet assurance.

           
"We're clear here." Bastien's voice was strong and confident in his ear, but Ares still hesitated.

           
"What's wrong?" Phae asked through clenched teeth as Thaddeus obeyed his silent command to fade into the darkness and serve as backup to the other two Sicari warriors on the grounds.

           
"You don't sense anything?" he replied softly as he met his sister's worried gaze.

           
"No.
Nothing."
She shook her head.

           
He frowned then cleared his mind and allowed his senses to become in tune with his surroundings. While his senses couldn't detect the smallest hint of danger, his gut continued to protest. He dismissed it. He was just on edge because Emma was with them.

           
"Stay out of sight, but keep a close eye on the door."

           
Phae nodded and disappeared into the darkness. With a wave of his hand, he unlocked the back door. The soft snap of the dead bolt sliding back echoed in the air, and he turned the knob. Like the last time he'd been here, the well-oiled hinges didn't make a sound as the heavy oak door swung back. He reached for Emma's hand and pulled her through the door behind him.

           
A thin beam of moonlight drifted through the kitchen window. He'd deliberately waited for a waning moon to ensure they had just enough light to help with visibility while still keeping their outside movements fairly well concealed. Wishing this whole thing were over, he pulled a compact flashlight from his pocket.

           
His thumb pressed the on-button once for the lowest setting. The last thing he needed was a nosy neighbor calling the police because they'd seen a moving light inside the house. They'd already alerted their police contacts of possible 911 calls, but he preferred to get in and out of there cleanly. Emma's hand still in his, they moved through the dining room and into the living room. A soft grunt echoed in his earpiece and he came to an abrupt halt, causing Emma to crash into him. Instinctively, he reached around to press his free hand into her back in a protective gesture, while she steadied herself by gripping his waist. Even through the leather jacket he wore, her fingers heated up his skin.

           
"Report," he snapped softly.

           
"Secure here," Lysander responded.

           
"Damn stray just pissed on my new boots," Bastien growled.

           
Phae suppressed her laughter with a snort over the mike while Thaddeus's soft chuckle echoed over the wireless connection.

           
"I told you not to have them custom-made, you dumb
il
figlio di puttana," Thaddeus snickered. "Guess they're officially broken in now."

           
Bastien uttered a soft oath in response to his friend's gentle barb. The brief moment of levity eased Ares's tension slightly and he bent his head to the shoulder mike he wore.

           
"Tighten up, people. I want this over with ASAP."

           
His hand slid across Emma's soft, rounded hip as he brought his hand forward and released his hold on her. The way she stiffened and didn't release him quickly made his heart jump. Was it possible--no, he wasn't going there.
Especially not now.

           
They moved forward again, and in less than a minute, they stopped outside the doorway of Emma's study. The morning after rescuing Emma, he'd arranged repairs to the doorjamb and window. The last thing he needed was someone coming to the house and finding evidence of a struggle, which might raise questions. He didn't want Emma's cover blown.

           
Satisfied the room was
empty,
he stepped aside and allowed Emma to enter the office. Her tension filled the space between them, and it didn't ease as she crossed the threshold. When she didn't move deeper into the office, he reached out and touched her arm. She jumped away from him and he frowned.

           
"You're safe, Emma. We're all here to make sure nothing happens to you."

           
She nodded and moved toward the desk, her fingertips running along the wood desktop in a loving fashion. Slowly, she rounded the desk and headed for the bookcase filled with an equal mixture of books and artifacts. She picked up the Egyptian dagger she'd threatened him with just a few days ago, and turned her head to look at him. The sadness in her eyes gutted him.

           
He had a lot to pay for when it came to her. She returned the object back to the shelf, before moving on to the next item. Inside, his radar was urging her to hurry up, but he didn't say a word. He knew she needed this. He'd been an ass not to realize it sooner.

           
As a child, he'd left his home without a backward glance. In the space of minutes, his world had shattered the night his parents were murdered. But he'd been eager to escape because the horror of what he'd seen had obliterated all the happy moments the word "home" had once meant. Emma sighed as she put down another object, drawing his attention back to her. He suppressed the desire to cross the room and offer her a comforting embrace. Instead, he cleared his throat and muted his mike.

           
"All of this is going to be packed up and stored, Emma. When the Order gives you new quarters, it'll be there.
Waiting for you.
I promise."

           
"I know." The palm of her hand caressed the bookcase built into the wall. "It's just that you can't pack up the memories that reside in the walls themselves."

           
The sorrow in her voice intensified the guilt he was feeling. Rationally, he knew she was still alive because of him, but he still felt responsible for her losing everything. There wasn't a thing he could say to her to ease her pain and it left him feeling helpless. The sensation made him feel far worse than the guilt twisting his insides.

           
Emma, oblivious to his pain, moved to the end of the wall to kneel on the floor. Using the heel of her hand, she hit the two-inch-high baseboard running along the bottom of the shelves. The molding popped away from the bottom of the built-in wall unit to reveal a dark hole. Without being asked, he moved forward and directed the beam of his flashlight into the dark cubbyhole. Her hand trembling, Emma reached into the cubbyhole and pulled out a small, but thick, notebook jam-packed with an odd assortment of papers. Happiness and sorrow flitted across her features as she stared down at the notebook.

           
"He must have known he was close to finding the Tyet of Isis or he'd never have left this here," she whispered as her hand caressed the leather cover.

           
In his earpiece, he heard a soft, indistinct sound that made him tense. A second later, he heard Bastien utter a curse, which ended before the man could finish it. In an instant, he doused the flashlight and was on his feet, dragging Emma with him.

           
"We're out of here."

           
"But--"

           
"Now, Emma." He turned his mike on again as he dragged her toward the office door. "Code One. We're on our way out."

           
He heard the hushed voices of everyone but Bastien as they confirmed the alert and current status. The fighter's silence was a clear indicator something was seriously wrong. They'd just reached the doorway when a tall figure blocked the way.
Fotte.
Praetorian.
In a simultaneous action, Ares drew his sword and gave Emma a hard mental shove back toward the desk and out of reach.

           
"What do we have here?
An Unmentionable and his whore."

           
The Praetorian had to bend forward slightly to step through the doorway. Merda, this son of a bitch was big. Ares didn't respond to the man. Best to keep his thoughts free of anything his opponent could use now or later. Experience had also taught him that when Praetorians didn't get a response to their taunts, it made them angry.
Made them sloppy.
And he needed to kill this bastard before Emma got hurt. He was at a slight disadvantage, but then so was the Praetorian. The only light in the room was coming from the house next door, which would make it tough to see anything.

           
"I don't need to see you, Unmentionable. All I have to do is listen to your thoughts," the Praetorian sneered.

           
Fotte.
He was thinking too much and not acting. He closed his thoughts off to everything but his instincts and training. It was the only way he'd be able to bring the bastard down.

           
"Perhaps I'll just incapacitate you, before I peel some of that soft skin off your whore's face while you watch."

           
Despite his best effort to shut down his thoughts, the man's words made him grow cold. The sensation didn't last as he heard Emma snort with laughter behind him. It surprised him almost as much as it amazed the Praetorian. But then the bastard didn't know Emma and her indomitable will to live. He knew she had to be terrified and yet she was reacting the same way she had the first night she'd met him.

           
"Were you born stupid or did you acquire that trait in nursery school?" she said in a contemptuous voice. "He's gonna kick your ass, you stupid son of a bitch."

           
The confidence in her voice warmed his heart as the dim light of the office revealed the outrage on the Praetorian's face. But the man didn't leap forward to strike as Ares expected him to. A movement in the doorway made his brain shift gears.
Two Praetorians.
Tight confined space.
Emma. His thoughts clattered together like a chain pulling up an anchor.

           
"Phae, Lysander. We've got company," he bit out. "Get in here now."

           
He jerked his head at the window, and it flew upward to slam into the top of the frame with a loud crack. Before he had time to bark a command at Emma, the second Praetorian slipped into the room followed by another shadowy figure.
Fotte.
Mike Granby. He should have followed his instincts about the bastard and had
him
watched 24/7. The minute he stepped into the room, Granby offered him a smiling sneer and jerked his head toward the biggest Praetorian.

           
"Andrew here brought several friends. So your people have their hands full at the moment." The man turned his head and caught sight of Emma. Eyes widening, he shook his head. "Emma. What the hell are you doing here? They said you were dead."

           
"Mike?"

           
The horrified disbelief in Emma's voice clawed at Ares as he struggled to keep his thoughts about her closed off. Christus, he'd misjudged Granby completely. He hadn't given the man credit for having enough brains to do anything more than carry out orders.

           
"What are you doing here, Mike?"

           
"I'm here because you have something I want, Emma."

           
"I don't have anything of value here," she said with a note of puzzlement in her voice.

           
Granby snorted his skepticism. "Don't take me for a fool like your parents did, Emma."

           
"My parents never thought you were a fool." This time he heard the growing awareness in her voice.
Fotte.
She was putting it together. Where the hell was Lysander or Phae?

           
"I was little more than an errand boy to them and Russwin," Mike sneered with contempt. "So when they got in my way, I eliminated them."

           
"You bastard," Emma cried out as she leaped forward.

           
"Deus damno id, Emma, keep back."

           
Ares's reaction was immediate as he restrained her with a single thought. They needed to get out of here now. The longer they stayed, the greater the chance they wouldn't survive. Taking on two Praetorians any other time wouldn't be a problem, but Emma's presence was drawing on reserves he'd need to win. And he didn't have any idea whether Lysander and the others would be coming anytime soon, if at all.

           
Draining his mental strength further, he used his ability to shove her toward the window without taking his eyes off the two fighters taking up a battle stance in front of him. He was grateful she didn't struggle, but went willingly. Granby frowned as Emma sidled toward the window.