Angel's Assassin by Laurel O'Donnell Read Free Book Online

released the letter
into Trane’s hand and fell heavily into a chair near the table.
“Deliver it to Lord Warin Roke.”
     

Chapter Six
     
     
    T he longer
Damien remained in his room, the more trapped he felt. He kicked at
the logs on the warm fire. He had learned long ago that dark
shadows and anonymity were safest for him, and yet here he sat, his
anguish exposed in the bright firelight, all because he had been
unable to say no to a woman he was meant to kill. A woman marked
for death.
    He rose and moved to the bed, dropping onto
the rich, luxurious bed, probably the richest bed he had ever slept
in, and put his head in his hands. For a fraction of a moment he
let himself imagine walking away from his life of servitude to live
in a castle of comfort. Always warm, always clothed with a full
belly. It would be easy to walk away from his servitude. But Damien
knew Roke would send assassins after him. No one had ever left
Roke’s service and lived more than a few days. Damien wanted to be
free. Not hunted. Not looking over his shoulder for the rest of his
life.
    No. He would gain his freedom by
accomplishing his duty. Aurora’s image came to mind and his anguish
diminished. What was it about Aurora? The way she looked at him
soothed the constant anger lurking inside him; her smiles eased the
troubled turbulence of his emotions. She was like no one he had
ever met before. There had to be a reason he was so affected by
her. Those large blue eyes filled his mind. They were eyes that had
the power to send him floating on a sea of tranquility with the
merest glance from them. The soft bow of her lips formed words that
calmed him with their peaceful eloquence. The womanly curves of her
body were so…
    Damien shot to his feet and left the room,
fighting back the flow of blood that threatened to cloud his
judgment even further, resolving to depart the castle. His word be
damned. He had to get away from her. She was becoming a distraction
to him, to his mission. She was too damned beautiful.
    He moved into the hallway and down the
stairwell to the first floor, all the while staying in the comfort
of the shadows, in the security of obscurity. Suddenly, a scream
echoed down the hallway from just around the corner. His muscles
tensed, his knees dipped slightly, preparing for a fight. He
cautiously peered around the corner.
    Aurora stood in the center of the stone
passageway, blindfolded. She wore a glowing smile on her lips as
she reached out before her. A group of children circled her,
keeping out of reach of her searching fingertips. The children
called out to her and scrambled away as she moved toward them.
    It took but a moment for Damien to realize
there was no threat. He straightened, his jaw tight with tension,
and forced his pounding heart to still. He watched the scene for a
moment. The laughter, the playfulness of the game was so foreign to
him that he found a certain charm to it. He slowly walked towards
them.
    The children’s laughter quieted instantly
and they backed away from his approach. Damien frowned. He had just
destroyed their joy with a mere glimpse of him. He could never be
part of something so innocent. The children recognized him for what
he was. Dangerous. As he advanced, a young boy no older than ten
years retreated from him. His round brown eyes reminded Damien of
another child. A child less fortunate, a child marked for pain and
solitude under Roke’s watchful eye. At Castle Roke, the boys came
in young, about the age of the boy before him, usually bought from
slavery as he had been. They had nothing and no one to interfere
with their training. No one to save them. They were usually wracked
with hunger, thin as arrows, deep distressed frowns permanently
etched on their lips.
    The boy who stood in front of Damien was well
fed and happy. His clothing lacked rips or even tattered edges. The
boy he remembered from Castle Roke was nothing like this child. His
clothing, speckled with stains and tears, had