Inferno's Kiss (32 page)

“You are
not
some Lilith tempting me to sin. I’m telling you that all of this is
my
fault,” Dante snarled as he turned sharply to face her, his features harsh with turbulent emotion. “It’s a hell of a lot more than the need to possess your body, and Juno knows how much I want to explore every inch of you with my hands and mouth.”

“Would it be so bad if you made love to me?” she asked, deliberately avoiding the implication that he had feelings for her.

She saw him pale and immediately realized how unfair her question had been. His oath wasn’t just something he paid lip service to. He’d taken his vow because he cared about the people he’d sworn to protect and lead. Even if he did have feelings for her—no, she wasn’t going there.

“It’s a question I ask myself every day, and—”

Whatever he was about to say never passed his lips, because at that precise moment, Cornelia entered the library. There was a curious look on the woman’s face as she turned first to Dante and then to Cleo. Although Dante’s expression had become indecipherable, Cleo knew her own emotions were easily readable, so she moved away toward the maps laid out on the table. Cornelia joined her and stood at her side in silence for a moment.

“He’s worried about you.”

“What?” She jerked her head up to look at her new friend.

“Dante. He’s worried you’ll get hurt.”

“That’s a risk everyone takes tonight.”

“True, but you’re special.”

“Because I’m Marcus’s daughter, I know,” she murmured. A shiver went down her back as she remembered Dante saying his desire for her was more than the need to make love to her.

“No, because he likes you. Cares about you,” Cornelia said with a quick glance behind her in Dante’s direction. He was talking with one of the team members who’d just walked in the door. “He cares about you a great deal more than he believes he has a right to.”

“Yeah, the oath. He’s told me all about it. No need to warn me off,” she said with a shrug of feigned indifference.

The last thing she wanted to reveal was how much it bothered her that Dante’s oath stood between them and the possibility of happiness. Deep inside she heard the sound of mocking laughter.

“You misunderstand me, Cleo. I never wanted Dante to take that ridiculous oath to begin with. I think he was entirely too young when Marcus and Placido agreed to let him swear his allegiance to the
Absconditus
in such a way.” The woman sighed softly. “I don’t know about Marcus, but I know Placido has finally realized it was a mistake to let Dante take the oath so young.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cleo said with a sudden bitterness she knew she shouldn’t feel. What the fuck had Marcus and Placido been thinking to let a fifteen-year-old make a vow like that? “I’m not going to try and seduce him into betraying his vow. I refuse to be the bad guy in that scenario.”

“I know you won’t,” Cornelia said as she met Cleo’s gaze. “Which is why I’m praying Dante will see the light.”

“See the light?” What the fuck was Cornelia trying to say? Was she suggesting that Dante had deeper feelings for her than simple desire?

“I hope he comes to realize that he cares enough about you to do something about it. He knows his vow isn’t binding. He took it before he came of age.”

“But it’s binding to him,” she said quietly as she realized how well she’d come to understand him in the short time they’d known each other. Astonishment crossed Cornelia’s features as she nodded her head.

“Exactly. You know him better than I thought.”

“I don’t know how, but I can read him a lot more clearly than I can myself, I think. So what does that say about me?” It was a rhetorical question, and she didn’t expect an answer.

Cornelia didn’t give her one. She just reached for Cleo’s hand and squeezed it in a reassuring manner. The idea that the woman felt sorry for her made Cleo gently tug her hand free and turn her attention to the maps on the table. She knew them by heart, but it was easier to pretend interest in them than to see pity in the woman’s gaze.

She was certain Cornelia wanted to say more, but the arrival of two additional fighters drew the
Praefect
’s attention away from her. The room continued to fill with Sicari warriors until there were at least fifteen people present. The assault tonight was going to be a two-pronged attack. One team would use Sonny Mesiti’s service van to make an unexpected delivery, while the second group would enter the convent from the cliffside.

A sudden tingle on the back of her neck announced that Dante was directly behind her. She drew in a sharp breath at the way her body reacted whenever he got near her. The heat of him warmed her back for a fraction of a second before he continued past her to circle the table.

The team had already gone over all the final arrangements the day before, and after a brief review they were loaded up for the fourhour drive south to the Amalfi Coast. At a pre-determined point along the way, the two teams split to head in different directions.

As a member of the seaside assault team, Cleo knew how risky this operation was, and for the first time she experienced trepidation. Had she been wrong to think up this crazy plan? No. It couldn’t be too crazy if Dante had gone along with it. She’d seen how thorough he was in the team meetings when planning this assault. The man was far too logical and careful to have implemented her plan if he thought it had even the slightest possibility of failure.

It was almost ten o’clock when they arrived at the dock rented specifically for the mission. Isolated and remote, the landing was perfect for their use. The team moved swiftly to carry the scuba gear and propulsion units onto the sleek yacht tied to the dock.

As she carried her own gear toward the gangplank leading up to the boat, a strong hand grasped her elbow and held her back. Immediately the heat flowed up and over her entire body as she turned to look at Dante.

“When we enter that convent, you’re to stay with me. Understood ?”

It was a harsh command that told her not to think about arguing with him. She met his hard gaze, and the flash of emotion she saw cross his handsome face made her heart skip a beat. Cornelia was right. He was worried about her, and it wasn’t just because of her father. A small jolt of surprise blasted through her. It was the first time she’d thought of Marcus as her father. And there was something about Dante’s overprotective manner she found both irritating and pleasurable.

“I’m a good fighter,” she said in a firm tone. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know that, but if you run into trouble, I want to be there. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Fine, I’m sure my father will appreciate your attention to my safety.” It was her way of putting distance between them, but he didn’t let her get away with it.

“Marcus doesn’t have a fucking thing to do with it. I care about your safety. If something happened to you . . .” His voice trailed off into silence.

Amazement mixed with pleasure sped through her veins at his words. He did care about her. Probably more than he wanted to admit based on his expression. He had feelings he couldn’t or wouldn’t act on. There was a harsh bite to that thought that hurt, and worse than she wanted to admit.

“I can take care of myself,” she said with small bit of rebellion. “But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll stick to you like glue.”

“It will make me feel better,” he growled with obvious exasperation at her cavalier response. Without another word, he ushered her forward and onto the boat. As he left her on the deck and disappeared below, she scowled at his back. He was acting like this was her first mission. The thing was, a part of her liked the way he was acting.

She enjoyed the way his manner made her feel as though she was a treasured object to be protected. In fact, not even Michael had ever made her feel that way. It was a sensation she enjoyed far more than she should. She shook her head at her fanciful thoughts.

“This is so fucked up,” she muttered to herself and sank down onto one of the seats lining the port side of the boat.

The usual state of edgy nervousness assaulted her as she stared out over the Tyrrhenian Sea, and the yacht slipped quietly away from the dock. It wasn’t a new sensation. She always felt like this just before she went out on mission. But tonight was different. She was confused, too. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and she didn’t like it. It only added to her jangled nerves.

She took in a deep breath of fresh sea air then released it slowly in an effort to relax. Overhead the night sky was brilliant with stars. Normally Rome’s city lights obscured the night sky, but out here on the yacht, which was running with the minimum of lights to avoid detection, the night was as crystal clear as she’d seen it in weeks. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement and jumped as Cornelia sat down beside her.

“I apologize,” the
Praefect
said in a soft voice. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s okay. I’m just a bit on edge. Happens before every mission. How are you doing?” She studied the woman’s shadowed features.

“I’ll be fine.”

There was something in the woman’s voice that said she didn’t want to talk, so Cleo remained silent. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what Cornelia was feeling at the moment. Did the woman regret having children? Was the joy of having a child overshadowed by the pain she had to be experiencing now? Somehow she was certain the answer Cornelia would give her was yes.

Cleo turned her head into the wind, and a couple of strands of hair pulled loose from her braid to brush her cheeks. She pushed them aside as she stared out at the dark water. Although she didn’t envy Cornelia the pain she was enduring now, Cleo envied her for having a child. It was the one thing she could never have.

No, not the only thing she could never have. She couldn’t have Dante either. The thought ripped through her with an emotional force similar to taking a kick upside the head. She sucked in a sharp breath.
Deus
, she hardly knew the man. What did it matter that she couldn’t be with him? She swallowed hard. It mattered, and that was the scariest thought of all.

Chapter 16

MARCUS stood in front of the wall screen that displayed a digitally enhanced image of the
Tyet of Isis
document. It amazed him how remarkably well preserved the parchment was after almost two thousand years of storage in the small box. Still, it had taken Atia and another researcher three weeks just to unroll the fragile paper so it could be photographed yesterday.

Today was the first time he’d seen the details of the document up close. The centuries had destroyed portions of the artifact and created a jagged border that ate into the text and symbols on the parchment. Some of the material had crumbled as it had been unrolled, leaving several holes in the document.

Despite the lost text, he’d been able to glean quite a bit of information from the manuscript, and even from the drawings interspersed in the text, including icons he recognized from his past life when he’d lived and fought at the side of the first Sicari Lord in ancient Rome. Even through the centuries, some of his memories as Tevy were as real and vivid as his current life.

The fluttering of Atia’s thoughts brushed his mind. The door of the research room opened quietly, but he didn’t turn around. As usual, she was early. It was something he’d counted on this morning. There had been little opportunity for him to be alone with her for the past several days. He was certain it had been a deliberate move on her part.

Although he couldn’t see her, it was easy to tell she was hesitating to enter the room. She’d always been good at shielding her mind, but their bonding years ago had created a connection between them that allowed him to feel her emotions even when he couldn’t read her thoughts. The bond between them had grown stronger with age. He only wished the connection had been this strong after Gabriel’s kidnapping. He drew in a harsh breath.

It had been three weeks since Atia’s confession, and he’d not attempted to confront her about it. He’d needed time to take in her revelation about the day of Gabriel’s kidnapping. Her declaration had stunned him, but knowing she’d kept her secret all these years because she’d been afraid of him had been a painfully bitter pill to swallow. It only emphasized the chasm between them because he understood now why she’d been afraid to tell him the truth.

When she’d shared the full story of that day, he’d argued that he would have understood. But perhaps she was right. In all likelihood, his anger, fear, grief, and inflexibility would have made him condemn her for failing to keep their son out of Praetorian hands. He was glad she hadn’t told him the truth for that very reason. His condemnation of her would have been undeserved. He understood now how difficult it would have been to take their son’s life that day.

The stark memory of Gabriel in the Pantheon rocked through him. Logically, Marcus had accepted that Gabriel was no longer his son, but it had not made it any easier to fight him. It was how Gabriel had been able to gain the upper hand in their battle. Deep down, Marcus knew there had been several moments when he could have easily finished off his son.

He’d known from the first clash of their swords that he was a better fighter than Gabriel. But he’d not pushed his advantage, and over the last week he’d come to realize it was because he hadn’t wanted to kill his son. He flinched as his body remembered the slicing pain his son’s sword had inflicted on his thigh.

It had been a mortal wound. But Gabriel hadn’t been happy with that. He’d wanted to destroy Marcus completely. As Gabriel had hovered over him, ready to land the final blow, Atia’s plea for mercy had made their son hesitate. It had been long enough for Marcus to do what was necessary.

His muscles tightened into hard knots at the memory. Thrusting his sword deep into Gabriel’s heart had been the most gut-wrenching thing he’d ever done in his entire life. The pain of that moment had surpassed the agony he’d experienced when the Praetorians had taken his son.

It made him understand all too well why Atia couldn’t have taken Gabriel’s life the day the Praetorians kidnapped their son. He’d found it hard enough for him to kill his son despite knowing what Gabriel had become. But sweet Vesta, he couldn’t imagine how difficult it would have been to take Gabriel’s life when he was nothing more than a toddler. Now he understood the sorrow she’d been living with all these years.