Inferno's Kiss (35 page)

“And do you really think he’ll even consider your request?” He asked harshly. Following her lead, he got out of bed and tugged on his pants with a sharp gesture. “The man’s in love with you. If I were him, I’d tell you to go to hell.”

“Then what do you suggest I do?” She met his gaze steadily.

“Ask Lysander or Ares to take his place.” His response wasn’t what she expected. She tipped her head to one side to study his hardened profile. Was he angry she’d not asked him to take over Ignacio’s responsibilities?

“What if I asked you?”

“I’m not a good candidate,” he bit out. Frowning, she glared at him.

“Is that because you’d have trouble reporting to your wife?”

“
No
.” He scowled at her as he zipped his slacks. “I can’t take the job because I’d kill you in a matter of weeks. A
Celeris
isn’t just the eyes and ears of the
Prima Consul
. The
Celeris
protects. And we’d butt heads every time I’d try to do my job and keep you safe.”

“We would not,” she snapped.

“No?” Marcus snorted with skepticism. “Firmani didn’t do a very good job keeping you safe.”

“That’s not true. Ignacio has always protected me,” she protested. A look of scorn crossed his strong Roman profile.

“Your idea of protection and mine are obviously very different. Was the man protecting you when you eluded him to meet me at the Santa Maria sopra Minerva?”

“You were the one who suggested such a dangerous place to meet.” She glared at him for suggesting that she or Ignacio was at fault for doing what he’d commanded.

“It’s not dangerous in the daytime if you come with an escort. Jupiter’s Stone, Atia. The man should never have agreed to let you go to Rome in the first place. Of all the cities in the world, Rome is where the
Prima Consul
should be well guarded at
all
times, and yet you were alone at La Terrazza del Ninfeo.”

“I was not,” she denied fiercely. “Ignacio was standing guard at the foot of the hill.”

“The man should have been
no more
than twenty feet away from you. If I’d been a Praetorian that morning, you would have been dead or worse.”

She shook her head at his rebuke and murmured a wordless protest. Satisfaction swept across his features as he jabbed his finger in her direction. “Ah ha. See. You can’t even deny the fact that Firmani never had a chance in hell of stopping you from going to Rome. If it had been me, I would have tied you down to keep you here.”

“You’d have liked that, wouldn’t you?” she snapped.

“Actually, come to think of it, it might have been quite pleasurable for both of us.” He growled in exasperation, but there was a dark, sensual edge to his voice that sent a warm frisson across her skin.

She swallowed hard, unable to think of a retort. They stared at each other for a moment before Marcus made a gesture of disgust and turned away to finish dressing. The silence in the room was thin and brittle, leaving Atia feeling as though the floor beneath her would give way at any moment. They’d only just reconciled. Did she want to let anything come between them?

He would never admit it, but she was certain Marcus was feeling threatened by Ignacio when it came to her feelings. The thought of him being unsure of her made her heart ache. For the first time in years she was doing what was right—what made her happy. She took a step forward. The moment her hand touched his arm, his body went hard and rigid.

“I don’t want to argue with you,” she said quietly. He turned his head to look at her for a brief moment before he pulled her into his arms with a combined move of mental and physical motion.

“I love you, Atia.” His voice was soft velvet in her ear as his mouth grazed her earlobe. “But you said it yourself. Firmani helped you keep your finger on the pulse of the Order. I can’t do that when I already have a full-time job keeping you safe. All I ask is that you find someone else other than Firmani to help me protect you.”

Atia tipped her head back to study his resolute expression, noting the fierce, adamant glint in his eyes. She reached out with her thoughts to lightly stroke the frown on his brow.

“All right,” she said with a nod. “Then I’ll ask Lysander to be my
Celeris
. Ares would do it if I asked, but he’d hate the politics. And frankly, the thought of refereeing arguments between you and Ignacio holds little appeal.”

Marcus released a soft laugh at her wry tone, and the furrow on his forehead slowly disappeared. The moment his tension ebbed away she breathed a sigh of relief. Gently freeing herself from his embrace, she headed toward the bedroom door.

“I’m hungry. Do you want something to eat before we call Lysander to the research lab?”

“Just you.” The sinful note in his voice made her blush as she met his gaze over her shoulder.

“Be serious,” she said with an unsteady laugh.

“I am serious. Just as serious as I was a moment ago when I said tying you down would be pleasurable.” A playful smile curved his lips as his gaze swept over her from head to toe. A blistering heat rushed into her cheeks, and she sent him an exasperated look. His wicked smile simply widened.

“I’m going to get some lunch,” she choked out, flustered by his teasing. “Do you want me to fix you something or not?”

“A sandwich, if you please, Madame Consul.” He reached for his shirt and shrugged his way into it.

“Turkey on rye?” She smiled at the surprise that swept across his face before he grinned like a schoolboy. Clearly he was pleased that she’d remembered his favorite kind of sandwich.

“That sounds good,” he said with a nod. “While you’re fixing us lunch, I’ll call Lysander and ask him to be here in a half hour.”

She nodded and turned away as he started to fasten the buttons on his shirt. She’d barely gotten out of the bedroom before she heard him humming “Volare” under his breath. Atia suppressed a laugh and walked out of the bedroom in the direction of the kitchen. Behind her, Marcus broke out into song, and this time she laughed softly. Life was good. The only thing missing was Cleo. Perhaps Marcus was right. Maybe all Cleo needed was time. Atia simply wished her daughter would come home soon so she could make amends.

LYSANDER smiled at Atia as she opened the door to her suite. He gave her a hug and as she pulled back she stared up at him with a look of assessment on her face.

“You look happy,” she said, her mouth curving into a pleased smile.

“I am.” He looked over her shoulder and saw Marcus waiting to greet him. As Atia stepped aside, Lysander strode forward to grasp the Sicari Lord’s forearm in the traditional greeting of Sicari warriors. “Marcus, it’s good to see you again.”

“And you, old friend.” The Sicari Lord gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat. There’s something Atia and I want to discuss with you.”

“That sounds ominous,” he said with a chuckle. Seating himself on the edge of the sofa cushion, Lysander rested his forearms on his thighs to clasp his hands in front of him. “What is it you want to talk about?”

The couple looked at each other for a moment before Atia shook her head and stepped forward.

“Ignacio has resigned as my
Celeris
, and I want you to replace him.”

“Resigned?”

He stared at the
Prima Consul
in amazement before narrowing his only eye at the woman then turning to study Marcus’s face. The impassive look on the Sicari Lord’s face didn’t fool Lysander for one minute. Ignacio had quit because of Marcus. He couldn’t blame the man. He’d known for some time that the
Celeris
was in love with Atia. It would have been hard for Ignacio to continue as her bodyguard with Marcus back in the picture. Lysander turned his head back to Atia.

“So why me?” At his question, Atia assumed her politician face as she matter-of-factly proceeded with her explanation.

“I want someone I can trust, and I can’t think of anyone better suited for the task.”

“I’m not sure I want the responsibility,” he growled as he considered just how difficult a job being Atia’s
Celeris
would be. He’d seen Ignacio’s frustration in the past. “You don’t listen, which means protecting you is going to be harder than fighting off a dozen Praetorians.”

Marcus snorted loudly with what Lysander knew had to be suppressed laughter. Her expression dark with annoyance, the
Prima Consul
shot the Sicari Lord a withering look before she turned back to Lysander.

“I’ve already been informed that I take too many risks, thank you,” she snapped. “Marcus has seen fit to assign himself as my full-time bodyguard. So you won’t be alone in your efforts to protect me.”

“I’m still not sure I want the job. I’m not a politician.”

“You don’t have to be.” Her irritation receding, she offered him a small smile. “That’s my job. All I ask of you is that you help me keep my finger on the pulse of the Order.”

Lysander stared up at the woman he’d known since he was a boy. She’d always been there for him. Like Ares and Phaedra, the
Prima Consul
had taken him into her home when he was all alone. Could he really refuse her request? He nodded slowly.

“I’ll accept on the condition that you at least listen to me and consider any recommendations I make when it comes to your safety.” His tone was stern, and he saw a hint of rebellion cross her face before she scowled in Marcus’s direction. The Sicari Lord had apparently used his telepathic ability to encourage Atia to agree to his condition. Although he wasn’t sure
encouraged
was an accurate term based on the
Prima Consul’s
scowl.

“Agreed.” She jerked her head at him in a sharp nod. At her reluctant acquiescence, Lysander stood up and bowed slightly.

“Then I accept the
challenge
of being your
Celeris
,” he said, biting back a smile as she scowled at his dry response. “So how do we proceed?”

“I’ll need to inform the Council,” Atia said with a wave of her hand. “It’s just a formality, since my choice of
Celeris
needs no confirmation. In the meantime, there’s another matter we need to discuss.”

The Prima Consul bit down on her lip and studied him for a long moment with an uneasy expression on her face. Normally, Atia presented a confident face to the world, and seeing her hesitate struck him as completely out of character. Frowning, he arched his eyebrow at her with a fair amount of suspicion. What was the woman up to now? She glanced at Marcus before looking back at Lysander, her discomfort obvious.

“I’m afraid I have some news that will come as a shock . . .” The
Prima Consul
hesitated again, and Lysander stiffened. Something had happened. It couldn’t be Phaedra, he’d just left her in their apartment.

“Who is it?” he rasped. “Who’s dead?”

“It’s nothing like that,” Atia said with a shake of her head. “In fact, it’s the exact opposite.”

“What in Juno’s name is that supposed to mean?”

Puzzled, he watched the woman he’d known since childhood struggle with something she wanted to say. Atia never had trouble speaking her mind. The
Prima Consul
was as tough as steel. With a heavy sigh, she paced the floor slowly.

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time, but I’d . . . we’d promised your mother that we wouldn’t tell you.” Again she hesitated. Lysander narrowed his eyes at her.

“It would be a hell of a lot easier on me if you just spit it out,” he snapped. “What are you trying to say?”

“You have a half brother.”

Atia’s quiet words were a bombshell going off in the room, and he stared at her in disbelief. The whole time they were in Rome hunting for the
Tyet of Isis
he’d been wondering if the
Prima Consul
was losing her grip on reality. He was now convinced she’d snapped, and proven him right. Where the fuck would she get the idea he had a brother? He shook his head in denial.

“I don’t have a brother.” The emphatic harshness of his statement made Atia wince.

“He was four when you were born, and he didn’t even know about you.” Atia rushed on with her explanation when he opened his mouth to reject her statement. “After Nicostratus . . . after your mother became pregnant with you, she took your brother to Rome to be trained by Marcus.”

“In the
Absconditus
?” Lysander snorted and arched his only eyebrow in disbelief. The woman was deranged. Atia moved quickly to sit down on the sofa next to him, and she lightly touched the back of his hand.

“It had already been decided that your brother would be sent to the
Absconditus
for training. Then Nicostratus killed Dante’s father and raped your mother. Aurelia had planned to go with Dante to Rome, but when she learned she was pregnant with you, she chose to raise you alone, and left Dante in Marcus’s care.”

“Okay, this has gone far enough,” he snarled as he sprang to his feet. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but I don’t have a brother.”

A firm, unseen pressure on his shoulder made him jerk his head toward Marcus. The moment he met the older man’s sympathetic gaze he knew Atia was telling him the truth. Even though it had been centuries since he and Marcus had served together in the Roman army, he recognized the candor in the Sicari Lord’s eyes.

“Your mother knew Nicostratus would try to take you away if he realized you were his son. That put Dante at risk too,” Marcus said quietly. “Dante is as powerful as Gabriel was. If Nicostratus had taken you
and
Dante as he did Gabriel, the threat to the Order would be beyond measure. Aurelia knew that. It’s why she made the decision she did.”

“That doesn’t explain why she never told me I had a brother or why you’ve chosen to tell me all this now,” he rasped.
Christus
, all this time he’d had a brother. A brother in the
Absconditus
.

“You were just a boy when your mother was killed. And I think in time she would have told you about Dante. But she made Marcus and me promise not to tell you.” Atia was on his blind side, and Lysander turned his head toward her. Regret darkened her gray eyes. “A promise we’ve broken.”