Inferno's Kiss (45 page)

“Why in Juno’s name would he pick that place?”

“You said you heard my conversation with Ignacio.”

“Obviously not the whole thing,” he growled. “What the fuck did you promise him?”

“My life for Cleo’s.”

Lysander stared at her, speechless. She turned away from him, afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep her composure in the face of his horrified expression. And she was definitely having trouble maintaining her usual unflappable manner. She wasn’t afraid to die, as long as she knew Cleo was safe and out of Praetorian hands. Nothing else was important. Saving Cleo was all that mattered now.

Chapter 25

ATIA’S cold words were still ringing in Ignacio’s ear almost an hour later as he sat beside Cleo on the way to the Tarpeian Rock. Although he had no one to blame but himself, the loathing in Atia’s voice had cut him to the core. What did he expect? The man she’d known for almost thirty years had betrayed her. His gaze shifted toward Cleo, sitting scrunched up in the far corner of the backseat. Her body language said she wanted to put as much distance between them as possible.

Ignacio turned his head to look out the car window. How was he supposed to explain that he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen? A part of him had always hoped he wouldn’t ever have to betray their trust. He’d thought being Nicostratus’s spy would be easy. He hadn’t counted on loving the enemy.

He’d built a life for himself with Atia and Cleo. He loved them both, and the fact that he’d used Cleo as a shield in his efforts to escape Condellaire was something Ignacio would never forgive himself for. He’d panicked. The moment Cleo had realized he’d betrayed them, her expression of horror and disgust had nearly ripped his heart out. His gaze flickered back in her direction.

“I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure she’d heard his apology until she slowly turned her head toward him.

“Go fuck yourself, Praetorian.” Her response made him grow cold.

“I don’t expect you to understand. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“You’re a spy and a traitor,” she bit out in a detached voice. “Now do me a favor and shut the fuck up. I don’t care that you might be feeling a bit guilty. Although it would surprise me if you were even capable of remorse.”

“You’re like a daughter—”

“Don’t you
even
go there, you
bastardo
.” Cleo almost shouted the command, and the Praetorian in the front passenger seat turned around. Ignacio gestured for him to ignore what was happening in the backseat. Leaning forward, he closed the glass window separating the front and rear seats.

“I panicked, Cleo. I wouldn’t have taken you hostage if I’d been thinking right. I should have just forgotten about the ring, but I couldn’t.”

“Ask me if I care.”

“I know you do,” he said with a crack in his voice. He knew exactly what she was thinking at the moment. She was hurting, and he was responsible. “If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t be so angry with me right now.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. And you can’t care too much, since you turned me over to Nicostratus.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Truthfully, I don’t give a fuck. So why don’t you just shut up and leave me be.”

Ignacio turned away from her, and closed his eyes. There had to be a way out of this. Somehow he would find a way... he immediately closed off his thoughts. He was so used to being in Sicari company, he’d forgotten that he needed to shield his mind from other Praetorians. Nicostratus had spies everywhere. He needed to remember that.

The car came to a sharp halt, throwing him and Cleopatra forward. His gut knotted up with a tension that hurt. They’d reached the Tarpeian Rock a lot faster than he’d expected. He looked over at Cleo, and as if aware of his gaze, she turned her head. The hate in her eyes sickened him. Without a word, he got out of the car, and walked around to open the door for her. As Cleo stepped out of the vehicle, she jerked away from his touch.

“Don’t touch me, you sorry fuck.”

Nicostratus had just gotten out of the other car, and heard Cleo’s harsh comment. The Patriarch joined them with a smirk on his face.

“Is the bitch giving you trouble, Firmani?”

“No, Excellency.” Ignacio shook his head.

“How unfortunate. It might be quite pleasant disciplining her.”

“Who knew the Collegium’s Patriarch is into kink,” Cleo sneered. “The next thing you know someone is going to tell me how much he loves sucking cock.”

The minute Cleo’s crude comment rent the air, Nicostratus went white with fury. In a flash of movement, the Patriarch closed the distance between him and Cleo and slapped her hard. The blow wasn’t so much a surprise as the strength of it.

Cleo could have sworn a fucking hammer had slammed into her jaw as her head jerked to the side from the blow Nicostratus delivered to her face. Who knew the Patriarch didn’t have a sense of humor? If her hands hadn’t been bound at her wrists, she would have slugged the
bastardo
. Instead, she had to settle for glaring at his back as he walked away from the vehicle she was standing next to.

The soft thud of a car door made her jump. It was a vivid reminder of how she’d been hustled in and out of a Praetorian vehicle twice now in less than twenty-four hours. The first time had been at the Sicari installation when Ignacio had used her as a human shield. After throwing her into a car, he’d remained silent the entire time she’d blasted him with her angry words.

When they’d arrived at the Collegium’s complex, he’d given an order she couldn’t make out then walked away without looking back. For some reason, that action hurt even more than finding out he was a traitor. Furious, she’d decked both of her guards before three more showed up to knock her senseless.

She’d woken up in a windowless room that she’d assumed was a novitiate’s cell. She’d paced the floor for several hours before logic reminded her she needed sleep if she wanted to capitalize on any escape opportunity. Although it had been difficult, she’d napped on and off for several hours. It wasn’t much rest, but it was better than nothing.

At least she’d been able to remain standing as Ignacio had just stood by and allowed the Patriarch to slug her. Obviously, Nicostratus hadn’t appreciated the reminder that he’d gotten his ass kicked at the Pantheon a few weeks ago. The coppery taste of blood ran over her tongue, and she spit it out on the ground.

“Praetorian asshole,” she muttered. Nicostratus whirled around and started to close the distance between them, his fury twisting his features into a hideous mask. To her surprise, Ignacio immediately stepped in front of her.

“Excellency, she’s no good to us if she’s dead.”

Looking over Ignacio’s shoulder, Cleo saw Nicostratus study her with a malevolent expression before he smiled. The feral look on his face sent an icy chill down her spine in spite of the hate boiling inside of her. The
bastardo
was plotting something, and she knew she wasn’t going to like it. After a moment, Nicostratus nodded and turned away again to head up the steep path in front of them. Wheeling about on his heel, Ignacio glared at her.

“Goddamnit, Cleo. Keep your mouth shut. I’m trying to keep you alive,” he whispered.

“Don’t do me any favors, you fucking traitor,” she mumbled.

“
Christus
, you’re as stubborn as your mother.” Ignacio grabbed her arm and forced her to walk beside him as they followed Nicostratus.

“Don’t you
dare
mention my mother. If anyone trusted you more than me, it was her.” She spat more blood out of her mouth. Sweet Vesta, for an old man, the Patriarch had one hell of a punch. “Where are we going?”

Ignacio grunted something she didn’t hear, and she stumbled on the rocky path.

Behind them six Praetorians followed. She overheard one of the men say the name Alessandro, and ice immediately coated her skin. Whatever Nicostratus had planned, if he was bringing a Praetorian Dominus along, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. She glanced around her trying to figure out exactly where they were. Despite the brightness of the moon, it was still dark with all the trees shrouding the path. As they trudged upward, she recognized something familiar about the place, but she couldn’t pin down what it was.

Cleo stumbled again, and Ignacio caught her and set her upright. She jerked away from him with a vicious tug, her eyes meeting his. There was a sorrow there that tried to chip away at the layer of granite she’d encased her heart in. Not a chance in hell she was going to let him fool her again. She’d had a lot to think about in that tiny room at the Collegium. Ignacio’s betrayal made her mother’s lie about Marcus pale in comparison.

Her mother had been trying to protect her. Ignacio had simply been using them. Worse, the fucking
bastardo
had killed a good woman. When Cornelia had sagged against Ignacio’s sword, Cleo had known she was beyond a healer’s touch. She’d seen the life flicker out of Cornelia’s eyes just before she’d looked in Dante’s direction. The anguish on his face made it clear that he’d done the one thing Cleo was afraid he would do. He’d chosen to protect her rather than think of the safety of others on his team. It had been a terrible moment for her.

An image of Dante filled her head.
Deus
, how had she fallen in love with a Sicari Lord? She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the thought. The chill layering her skin eased when she remembered his thoughts entwined with hers as Ignacio and his henchmen had taken her away. Cleo knew he’d come looking for her, but she was certain he was going to be too late. It would be better that way. She didn’t want to see anyone else die because of her.

The path they were on gave way to a plateau sparsely littered with trees and bushes. The moment she entered the area, she knew exactly where they were. The
bastardo
was going to throw her off the Tarpeian Rock like an ancient Roman criminal. Her gaze flitted around her as she tried to find some method of escape.

There wasn’t one. What was it Ignacio said? He was trying to save her life? If this was what he had in mind, it wasn’t much of a plan as far as she was concerned. The only way out was the path behind her. With her bound wrists, she’d find it damned difficult to get past five Praetorians and one Praetorian Dominus.

Then there was the Praetorian next to Nicostratus. The Patriarch turned his head and addressed the man as Draco. For some reason, she found it amusing that a dragon was guarding the Patriarch. A sound from the far left made her turn her head, and despite her attempt not to react, she gasped. Across the small distance between them, she met her mother’s gaze.

The relief on Atia’s face was plainly evident, and when Cleo saw Lysander emerge from the darkness, her heart skipped a beat as she looked for Dante to follow him. Several seconds passed, and her heart sank as she realized he wasn’t with them, but then neither was Marcus. It didn’t make any sense. The tension in the air was heavy, and Cleo jerked her gaze toward Nicostratus. The
bastardo
looked like he’d just won the lottery.

“What are you doing here, Mother?” Cleo called out as she continued to study Nicostratus. The Patriarch sensed her gaze and turned his head toward her.

“It’s quite heroic, really,” he said with a beguiling smile. “Atia has agreed to be traded for you.”

“
What?
” She snapped her head back toward her mother to stare at Atia in horror. “Are you insane?”

“You might be an adult, Cleopatra, but I’m still your mother
and
the
Prima Consul
. Show me the respect I’ve earned.” The sharp words made Cleo wince as she stared helplessly at her mother. The harsh look on Atia’s face eased, and Cleo felt a soft, invisible stroke on her cheek. For the first time, Cleo realized where her mother’s rare telekinetic ability had come from. Bonding with Marcus had given Atia an ability that few Sicari women possessed. The touch immediately made tears well in her eyes, and Cleo blinked hard to prevent them from falling.

“I’m delighted to see you, Lysander.” The Patriarch smiled at the scarred Sicari fighter, and Cleo could have sworn there was a look of real pleasure on the Praetorian’s face.

“I can’t say the same,” Lysander replied in an icy voice.

“Why don’t we stop playing games, Nicostratus,” Atia said with a steely calm that seemed to impress even the Patriarch. “I came as agreed. Let my daughter leave with Lysander and I’ll remain.”

“No. I won’t let you do this, Mother.” Cleo shook her head as panic swept through her.

“It’s all right,
carissima
. I know what I’m doing.”

“No. You don’t. This fucking
bastardo
is going to kill you.”

Cleo took a step toward her mother only to have Ignacio hold her back. She sent him a blistering look of hate over her shoulder, and he immediately released her. Stumbling forward, she reached her mother in just a few steps as Atia met her halfway. Enveloped in her mother’s warm hug, Cleo buried her face in Atia’s shoulder and fought back tears.

“It’s all right,
bambina
. I’m here now. Everything is going to be all right.” Her mother’s voice was soft and loving in Cleo’s ear as Atia held her tight.

When Cleo lifted her head, a dark rage swept across her mother’s face as she gently touched Cleo’s bruises.

“Who hit her?” Atia directed a harsh look at Nicostratus.

“She had trouble getting out of the car.” The Patriarch’s answer made Cleo shoot him an angry look over her shoulder before she returned her attention to Atia.

“Please don’t do this, Mother,” Cleo pleaded. “You’re more valuable to the Order than I am. I’m not even Sicari.”

“Not Sicari?” Atia’s appalled expression made Cleo wince. “Don’t be ridiculous. You were always too sensitive about your abilities. Your heart is more Sicari than you realize. Only a Sicari would have risked so much to save Marta or relieve Lysander of the guilt he’s carried ever since Marta was taken on his watch. I have never been so proud of you as I am now.”

At her mother’s words, Cleo’s fight to hold back her tears weakened considerably, and a tear slid down her cheek. She gulped back more tears as her mother gently brushed the teardrop from her face. Love glistened in Atia’s eyes as she steadily met Cleo’s gaze.