Inferno's Kiss (10 page)

“Leave Angotti’s men where they are. The police will assume it was a hit the guards tried to stop.”

“Yes, Tribune.”

“Make sure you search the Praetorians before you dispose of them in the catacombs.”

Both men gave him a quick bow of respect before they picked up the bodies of the dead Praetorians and disappeared back into the shadows. Satisfied that the cleanup was well in hand, he glanced over his shoulder toward the end of the alley. A car rolled to a stop and doused its lights. As always, Cornelia was prompt.

The sound of leather scraping softly against stone caught his attention, and he turned to see Cleopatra sinking down toward the cobblestones. Her head resting on the wall behind her, there was an air of defeat about her. The sudden urge to pick her up and comfort her made Dante suppress a groan. He needed to get her to a healer, and then
he’d
get as far away from the woman as he could. He returned to her side and squatted beside her.

“A friend of mine has a sister in that convent,” he said quietly. “If Angotti told you something about it, whatever he told you might help me save her.”

“You’re planning a rescue, aren’t you?” Her violet eyes widened slightly before they closed and she breathed a heavy sigh. “If I tell you, I want in on the plan.”

“Out of the question,” he snapped. Marcus would have his head if he agreed to her demand.

“Then I can’t help you.”

Despite her obvious exhaustion and pain, there was a determination in her that he recognized. She was more her father’s daughter than she knew. The shrill wail of a police car echoed, closer this time, and he blew out a harsh breath. Someone had called the police, and he wasn’t in the mood for questions. They needed to leave now.

“By the gods, I must be out of my mind,” he said grimly. “The first thing we do is get you to a healer. Then we talk. Agreed?”

“Yes.” It was more a sigh than an answer. It made him frown.

“Can you walk?”

“Ye . . . no.”

It was obvious she didn’t like admitting to any weaknesses. He studied her drawn features with a sense of doom. He couldn’t explain it, but he was certain refusing her demands wasn’t going to be easy. It was bad enough Marcus would want to flay the backs of everyone involved in an assault on the convent.

But if Dante agreed to Cleopatra’s participation in the rescue, it was anyone’s guess what the Sicari Lord would do to him. He sighed as he envisioned the potential ramifications of his actions then closed his eyes. The fifth
Tabulati
taught one to seek tranquility in all one did. He could use a little of that right now. With a soft oath, he carefully lifted Cleopatra into his arms and stood up.

“Oh,
that
was a compliment,” she muttered wearily.

“What?” Startled, he stared down at her in surprise.

“You didn’t have to make it sound as though you were picking up a tub of lard.”

“That’s
not
what I was thinking,” he growled with embarrassment. He wasn’t even using his telekinetic ability to help carry her. If anything, she felt just right in his arms, and it scared the hell out of him.

“Uh huh.” Her skeptical response tugged another growl out of him, but he didn’t respond.

All he cared about at the moment was getting her to the car so he could put some distance between them. The woman was wreaking havoc with his senses. And holding her in his arms like this wasn’t helping matters. The way she was nestled against his chest placed her head just below his nose, and the sweet smell of soap floated upward from her dark hair.

He had to fight hard not to lower his head and breathe in more of the delicious scent. Even harder to fight was the blazing heat streaking through his blood until his body was taut with something he could only describe as expectation. His jaw locked with tension as he quickened his stride to get to the Via Pomi where Cornelia was waiting with the car.

“Thank you.” Her soft words wrapped a vise around his heart. “If you hadn’t come along, I would have had a tough time getting out of this alley on my own.”

“Breaking the rules has consequences, but you’re welcome,” he said gruffly.

“So, what,
you
don’t break the rules?”

“I try not to.” He winced. He’d done an excellent job breaking some rules tonight.

“I break the rules all the time,” she said. There was almost a note of pride in her voice, and it made him smile.

“Is it worth it?”

“Sometimes, but at others . . .”

The way her voice died off into nothing made him frown. He didn’t know how he knew it, but he was certain that at some point she’d broken a rule and gotten hurt because of it. It aroused the protective instinct he’d experienced a few minutes ago. He pushed it aside, trying to reassure himself that he’d feel the same thing for anyone who was in trouble. Another breach in the teachings of the first
Tabulati
. He was learning how to lie well, even to himself.

Chapter 5

BEYOND the glass of the living room window, Dante could see nothing but the black night. It engulfed the
peristylium
centered inside the
Absconditus
’s stronghold like a shroud. During the day, the inner courtyard was a pleasant combination of open spaces and flower beds, but at the moment, darkness cloaked its beauty.

Dante turned his head away from the window to pour a splash of Hennessy into his snifter. He lifted the glass to study the amber liquid inside and breathed in the liquor’s aroma. The cognac’s familiar scent of vanilla and oak tickled his nose. It washed away the memory of the rank smell in the alleyway where he’d found Cleopatra.

Her image flashed in front of his face, and his fingers tightened around the glass in his hand. The woman was an unexpected development.
Unexpected
really wasn’t a good description of Cleopatra. The woman was more like a ticking time bomb. She’d made an impact on him that still had him reeling.

It had taken every bit of mental acuity he possessed to keep the woman’s thoughts and emotions out of his head. The result had been his inability to suppress his physical reaction to the woman. No, not just a physical reaction. He’d experienced a connection between them that he’d never had with anyone before. It ran deep, and the knowledge made his stomach bunch into knots.

Dante took a drink of the expensive liquor and turned back toward the window. The smooth, almost nutty flavor of the cognac on his tongue was a good first step in easing the tension holding his body hostage at the moment. The pane of glass in front of him mirrored the interior of the massive complex’s smallest living room.

Of the three salons in the house, this one was his favorite. He’d always found this room to be the most comfortable of the
Absconditus
’s location in Rome. Over a hundred and fifty years ago, a wealthy Rome merchant had built the house using an ancient Roman floor plan. The guild had purchased the house at the turn of the century in order to establish an observation post to monitor Praetorian activities.

Situated in the heart of their enemy’s territory, the property had grown over the years to become one of the
Absconditus
’s major strongholds. The guild had surrounded and fortified the complex with a high wall of stone including limited access points. When combined with the continuous updates of new security features, the compound was a virtual fortress.

The main building was capable of housing twenty to thirty guild members, but the
Absconditus
had purchased adjoining properties over the last sixty years to expand the complex. The installation now encompassed three city blocks of fortified living quarters. More than a hundred members of the guild lived in the stronghold, along with more than fifty direct descendants of the first Sicari Lord’s
Vigilavi
.

Of all the properties the Sicari Lord’s guild owned, Dante liked this one the best. He wasn’t sure why. There were other
Absconditus
compounds that were far more beautiful. Perhaps it was because this was where he’d grown up, and it was the only real home he’d ever really known. There was little he remembered of his life prior to the day his mother had left him here in Marcus’s care. Even that memory consisted of nothing but bits and pieces.

His jaw tightened at the thought of the mother he barely remembered and the father he’d never known. If his father had lived, would things have been different? Would his mother still have given him up so easily to the
Absconditus
? Without thinking twice, he blocked out all thoughts of his mother and the past. He couldn’t change it, and he wasn’t ever going to learn his mother’s reasons for leaving him with Marcus.

Dante finished his cognac then set the empty snifter on the cabinet. He didn’t drink on a regular basis, but after the last three hours, he’d needed something to help ease the tightness in his muscles. It had been a long time since he’d felt this uneasy. Cleopatra Vorenus had probably set his work back several months. He ignored the fact that she’d managed to test his knowledge of every level of the
Novem Conformavi
he’d ever completed.

The minute the Praetorians had taken Cornelia’s daughter almost a year ago, he’d started working on a way to rescue Beatrice from the Convent of the Sacred Mother. Cleopatra had thrown a major monkey wrench into those plans.

Angotti had been a key element to Beatrice’s rescue. The crime lord
had
to have known quite a bit about the convent’s operations, considering how many times the son of a bitch had visited the breeding facility. There was no doubt in Dante’s mind that the
bastardo
had enjoyed himself at the expense of the Sicari women held prisoner there.

Dante released a sound of disgust and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. He could only hope that Cleopatra had gotten some useful information before she’d killed the son of a bitch
.
Once more, a vivid image of Cleopatra’s face filled his head. Not only had her emotions and thoughts stormed the gates of his mental faculties, but he’d responded to her presence on a base level as well. There was something about her vulnerability that had aroused his protective instincts.

What really concerned him was the way he’d questioned his vow to the guild the second he got close to her.
Concerned him?
It scared the hell out of him. She’d managed to upset not only his plans, but his senses as well. Cleopatra was the first woman to ever appeal to his base emotions so strongly. Not even the test he’d undergone years ago had aroused such primitive, territorial sensations. His primal reaction to her presence had thrown him off balance.

Even if he hadn’t dedicated his life to the
Absconditus
, she’d be off limits simply because she was Marcus’s daughter. A quiet sound made him turn his head, and he saw Cornelia standing in one of the room’s two entrances. His
Praefect
crossed the oak parquet flooring and sank into the overstuffed couch a short distance from where he stood.

The neutral color of the soft leather furniture was a stark contrast to the standard outfit Sicari wore when out on a mission. The black turtleneck and pants emphasized Cornelia’s lithe body while the color of the couch highlighted her olive-toned complexion. With short, dark curls framing her face, his second-in-command appeared much younger than she was.

“How is she?” he asked. The depth of his concern for Cleopatra’s welfare made his gut tighten into knots again, but he dismissed the emotion. She was Marcus’s daughter, and it was natural to worry about the woman’s well-being.

“She’ll be fine. She’s asleep now, but Noemi was able to heal her leg wound completely, as well as her other cuts. By tomorrow morning, she’ll be up and about without any problem.”

“Good.” He nodded his head sharply.

He didn’t like the strong surge of relief that sped through him. It was one thing to be thankful to the gods that Cleopatra was safe and well, but what he was feeling was beyond simple gratitude. The level of his response meant his awareness of her was even stronger than he’d feared.

The woman was beautiful enough to be one of Armani’s runway models in Milan, but it wasn’t her beauty that had sent that jolt of electricity through him. There had been something beneath the surface that had twisted his insides up in knots. The memory of how he’d wanted to kiss her made every muscle in his body grow taut.

And he sure as hell didn’t like the memory of how her shirt had been splayed open so he could see a lot more than the top of her breast. An image of dark red lace swam in front of his vision. Immediately, he tried to swallow the lump swelling his throat closed.

“Are you all right?” Cornelia narrowed her eyes at him. “You look worried.”

Worried? He was way beyond that point. He was shaken to the core. Cleopatra was the first woman to make him lose sight of his vow to the
Absconditus
. Not once since taking his oath at the age of fifteen had he ever regretted giving his vow to the guild. Not until tonight.

“No. I’m just angry that I didn’t reach Angotti before Cleopatra slit his throat,” he lied.

Deus
, tonight he was recanting everything he’d learned in the first
Tabulati
of the
Novem Conformavi
. One of the tenets of the first level of the ancient philosophical teachings was honesty, and he’d been breaking that discipline left and right this evening. He clenched his teeth with frustration at his inability to remain true to his beliefs.

He looked away from his friend’s astute gaze. Cornelia was older than him by only sixteen years, but in many ways, she was like a mother to him. While he was growing up, her strong intuitive abilities had always told her when he needed to talk. That was something his mentors, Placido and Marcus, had never been able to do where he was concerned.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said quietly, but he heard the unspoken disappointment in her voice. “I’m sure the Order won’t be pleased to learn she performed the assassination alone. Did she say why she didn’t have a partner with her?”