Inferno's Kiss (41 page)

Cleo finished dressing in record time, and in less than ten minutes she was following other members of the
Absconditus
into the garage. There was no talking, just a grim silence that reflected the seriousness of the situation. Without any instruction, the teams launched themselves into four vehicles. Cleo made specific note of where Dante was and deliberately avoided his SUV. Her gaze met his across the distance between them, and he jerked his head in the direction of his car. She ignored the silent command and climbed into the nearest vehicle. Moments later the two teams roared out of the compound.

AS Atia walked down the corridor toward the research lab, she playfully nudged Marcus with her elbow.

“You’re doing it again.”

“I always hum when I’m in a good mood or feeling
satisfied
,” Marcus said and flashed a wicked grin at her. “I’ve enjoyed not having to think about work for a change.”

“Something I should have been thinking about, rather than giving into your every whim for the past three days.” She shot him a quick glance of exasperation then softened her voice. “But I don’t regret it.”

“As long as you never do,” he murmured as they stopped in front of the lab door.

“Never.” Her fingertips brushed across his mouth before she punched her private code into the security panel on the wall. When she heard the soft click of the lock releasing, she pushed the heavy steel door open and entered the dark room. She immediately froze. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Mentally she envisioned the light switch and flipped it upward without touching it. The fluorescent bulbs overhead flickered briefly before they steadied and illuminated the lab.

“Something’s not right,” Marcus growled as he entered the room.

Her husband’s words simply confirmed what her senses were telling her. Fear streaked through Atia as she didn’t reply but hurried toward the secured storage box that held the
Tyet of Isis
. The moment she touched the electronic security panel, she knew the document was gone. It didn’t stop her from frantically opening the lockbox, hoping she was wrong. She wasn’t.

“
Fuck
.” Marcus’s anger was a palpable sensation on her skin. She whirled around to see him standing at the computer as he slammed his fist against the steel countertop. He looked at her, his face grim. “The hard drive’s been wiped clean.”

“Sweet Vesta.”

He jerked upright in fury. “The document is gone?”

When she nodded, Marcus uttered another oath. He immediately pulled his cell phone from his pants pocket. Fingertips pressed against her lips, Atia paced the floor in front of the empty lockbox. Whoever had killed Sandro had to be the same person who’d stolen the
Tyet of Isis
document.

“Lysander, find Firmani. The document is gone,” Marcus snapped. A second later his brusque voice became a vicious snarl. “
When?
”

Another long pause occurred in the conversation, and Marcus met her gaze with an expression she remembered from the day Gabriel was taken. He was ready to kill someone.

“Have the car brought around and call the airport. I’m going after him.” Marcus tapped the screen of his phone to end the conversation, his features dark with fury. “That Councilman who’s a thorn in your side, Cato, is missing. He disappeared three days ago. Apparently Firmani tracked him down to a commercial flight to Rome out of O’Hare. He took one of the Order’s planes yesterday to follow him.”

“
Cato?
” Atia frowned. “The man is a despicable, overbearing ass, but a traitor? No. And he’s too much of a coward to kill anyone. Whoever killed Sandro was highly skilled. Cato hasn’t used a sword in years.”

“Then who else could it be?” There was a darker note underlining Marcus’s voice that made her flinch as she felt the blood drain from her face, leaving her skin cold.

“
No
. Not Ignacio.” She shook her head sharply. “It has to be someone else. I can’t believe he’d betray the Order like this.”

Or me
. Although she didn’t say the words, they hung in the air like bells ringing loudly in a church. Marcus’s features hardened as though they were set in stone. It was evident to her that he believed her defense of her onetime
Celeris
was rooted in emotions she didn’t really feel for Ignacio. Was he still so uncertain of her? She quickly stepped forward and grabbed his hand. He didn’t reject her, but the rigid tension in his body didn’t ease.

“Marcus, please. He’s been my friend for more than twenty-five years. Would you have thought the worst of Placido after all this time? Of Maximus when you lived in ancient Rome?”

He uttered a soft oath and pulled her into his arms. “No. I would find it impossible to believe either of them capable of any traitorous act. But I don’t like Firmani. I should have been the one you relied on all these years. Not him.”

“Wasn’t it you who said we can’t erase the past?” she said quietly. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. My heart has
never
belonged to anyone except you.”

“I love you, Atia.”
His thoughts stroked hers as he crushed her against him.
“I can’t lose you again.”

“You won’t.”

Marcus held her for a long moment then bent his head to kiss her tenderly. “I need to go. The car will be ready by now.”

“I’m going with you.”

“No. You’re not,” he said in a tight voice. “It’s too dangerous.”

“I know it’s dangerous, but you need me. I know Ignacio well. I know how he thinks.” Atia met his harsh look steadily. “And he’s
my
responsibility. If he’s betrayed the Order, I want to hear it for myself.”

The forbidding look on his face said how much he wanted to refuse her. With a vicious shake of his head, he released a soft growl of frustration.

“
Christus
, if I refuse you, you’ll just follow me, won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Very well, but it’s against my better judgment,” he bit out. “Go pack an overnight bag. I’ll notify Lysander that his duties as the new
Celeris
just started.”

“If Ignacio really is working for the Praetorians . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“If he is, we’ll find him.” Marcus touched her cheek before jerking his head toward the door. “Now go. We need to move quickly.”

With a nod, she hurried out of the lab and headed toward her room to gather some fresh clothes. It couldn’t be Ignacio. It couldn’t. There had to be some explanation. Perhaps Cato was capable of more than she realized. But what if she was wrong? She flinched. Ignacio knew practically everything about the Order. Defenses, security codes, all of it. He could destroy them all. And if that happened, it would be her fault for trusting him.

Chapter 21

CLEO stepped through the door of the Rome installation and drew in a sharp breath. The slaughter was horrifying. The Praetorians were easily identifiable by the insignia on their shirtsleeves, but they were few and far between. The majority of the dead were Sicari and
Vigilavi
. It was obvious no one had been spared.

Dante and several other members of the
Absconditus
had moved deeper into the facility to secure the installation. Just before he’d disappeared through one of the doorways, he’d looked at first her and then Cornelia. It was obvious that he’d used telepathy to instruct his
Praefect
that she was to watch over Cleo, because she saw Cornelia dart a quick look in her direction as she nodded her head. Dante’s eyes met hers briefly, but she turned away. The sting of his words still cut deep.

Gingerly, Cornelia knelt beside a fallen Sicari to check the man’s pulse. Cleo followed her lead and moved to check on a warrior close to her. The man was dead, so Cleo gently closed his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest in the traditional ceremonial position. When she’d finished, she moved to the next body, hoping and praying she would find someone with a faint heartbeat whom they could still save.

With each dead warrior or
Vigilavi
, her heart grew heavier. Then she heard it. A faint rasp. Her gaze darted toward the sound, and she saw a face she recognized covered in blood. At his side in less than a second, she gently touched Salvatore’s forehead.

“Cornelia, I need a healer.
Now
,” Cleo said as she glanced over her shoulder at the
Praefect
. The other woman nodded and hurried off. Cleo turned her attention back to her friend.

“Sal, it’s Cleo. You’re going to be fine.” She could only hope it wasn’t a lie.

She winced as his hand caught her arm in a vicious grip, but she didn’t try to pry his fingers away. Instead, she quickly assessed his injuries. His wounds were deep, and he’d lost a great deal of blood, but there was still a chance he might make it if the healer arrived soon. Salvatore’s mouth moved, and Cleo leaned forward.

“Shh . . . It’s going to be all right. A healer will be here any moment.”

She offered up a quick prayer that she was right then drew in a sharp breath as his grip on her arm tightened further. His eyes opened wide with a stare that frightened her. His look said he knew it was too late for him.
Deus
, where was that healer?

“Hang on, Sal,
please
. Just a moment longer,” she pleaded. His lips moved again. It was less than a whisper, and she had to put her ear close to his mouth in order to hear him.

“Don’t . . . trust . . .”

An instant later, air rattled in his lungs before he sighed his last breath. The pressure on her arm eased as Sal’s grip grew limp in death. Head bowed, she squeezed her eyes shut against the sorrow washing over her. Sal had been a gentle giant. Always looking out for everyone like a big brother might.

Drawing in a deep breath, she fought to regain control of her emotions. Sal had always been fatalistic about death. He wouldn’t want her to spend more than a minute grieving for him, because he’d always been of the opinion that the fallen meet again in the Elysium Fields. Gently removing his hand from her arm, she laid it across his chest before crossing his other arm over it.

As she lifted his arm, his fingers uncurled and something gold slipped from his hand to hit the marble floor with a soft sound of metal against stone. She finished tending to her friend then reached for the piece of jewelry lying next to him. The ring looked familiar, and she stared at it for a few seconds before her heart became a roaring thunder in her ears.

Ignacio
. It was his ring.

She snatched the ring up in her hand then sprang to her feet to search through the carnage to find the man who’d been her surrogate father since childhood. Frantic, she moved from one still figure to another, hoping against hope that Ignacio wasn’t among the bodies on the installation’s main entryway floor. When she didn’t find him, she stood in the middle of the room with panic rising inside her. Where was he? A scraping sound behind her made her draw her sword from the sheath on her back as she whirled around to face the unknown. The sight of Ignacio leaning against the installation’s front interior doorway covered in blood made her gasp with a mixture of fear and relief. She leaped forward to assist him, but he waved off her assistance.

“
What the fuck are you doing here?
” he asked fiercely, an odd look on his face.

“I’ve been staying at the
Absconditus
.” She bit down on her lip with worry as she saw the blood seeping through his fingers where his hand pressed into his side. She pulled him deeper into the house and secured the door behind him.

“I’ll be fine, just a few cuts,” he growled with a shake of his head. “I arrived too late. I . . . chased two of the
bastardi
as they came out of the house. I left one of them dead in an alley a couple of blocks away.”

“When I found your ring, I feared the worst,” she exclaimed as she ignored his protest and bent over to examine his injury. Her touch gentle, she pulled his hand away from the wound. It was deep, but in a spot where none of the major organs might be damaged.

“You found
my ring
?” There was a strangled note in his voice that barely registered with her as she quickly examined the remainder of his wounds.

“Yes.” She straightened upright and opened her hand to stare at the ring in her palm. “I thought for certain you were dead.”

The gold jewelry was covered with blood, and for the first time it struck her as odd that Sal would have been holding it in his hand. The moment she’d seen it, she’d been so afraid for Ignacio’s safety that the question as to why her friend had the ring hadn’t even occurred to her. Cleo’s gaze slowly shifted from the ring to Ignacio’s face. Something in his expression struck a chord of horror deep inside her.

Tension sped through her body with the speed of a poisonous snake preparing to strike. The idea slithering into her consciousness was too unbelievable, and she immediately rejected the thought. It was ludicrous. Ignacio could never betray the Order. He stretched out his hand to her, and instinct made her take a quick step backward.

“I can explain,
carissima
.” The pleading note in his voice made Cleo flinch.

“I’m listening,” she said quietly, praying he had a solid explanation for why his ring had been in Sal’s hand.

“Salvatore has been working for the Praetorians.”

The bald-faced lie made Cleo’s stomach churn as though she were physically ill. Sal would never have worked for the Praetorians. He hated the Praetorians more than any Sicari she’d ever met. The
bastardi
had left him an orphan when he was thirteen, forcing him to watch as they’d raped and murdered his mother and sister before they’d left him for dead.

He’d only mentioned it to her one time, but the manner in which he told his story would be forever seared in her memory. Even Ares didn’t hate the Praetorians as deeply as Sal did. Now Ignacio was trying to convince her that Sal was the one who’d betrayed the Order? She knew better, and it left only one alternative.