Beloved in His Eyes (Angel's Assassin #2)(2)

Adam grabbed Justina’s hand. “Come on! We must get to the street. We’ll miss her!”

Justina almost dropped the loaf of bread as Adam jerked her arm. She righted the loaf, but lost hold of his hand. She hurried behind him. She saw his bobbing head disappear between a farmer and a merchant. “Adam!”

“Sweet cider!” someone called from a building behind her.

Justina searched desperately for a resurgence of Adam’s head in the sea of people lining the road. She was not considered short, but even at eighteen summers she had to stand on her toes to see around and over the tops of some of the tall heads. Someone bumped her, and she juggled the loaf for a moment. “Adam!”

Adam appeared before her, seized her hand, and began to pull her into the crowd of villagers and merchants. “Hurry! We’re going to miss her!”

The market square was so crowded they could barely squeeze around villagers. Merchants shouted from shop windows, hawking their wares. “Venison! Get your venison!”

A farmer Justina passed reeked of sweet hay. Somewhere behind them a dog barked. The world seemed to swirl as Adam pulled her through the crowd of people.

Adam paused for a moment and Justina turned to look up at the shop window where a fat merchant sat, calling out for passing villagers to sample his smoked meats. Adam jerked her forward and she slammed into a man’s back. The man whirled on Justina, glaring hotly. She mumbled an apology and called out to Adam.

She remembered one other town where it had been this crowded. A tightness began in her chest, but she quickly pushed the memory aside. It wasn’t a good memory and she had no desire to relive it now. Still, the haunting similarity shook her. Unease spread through her and then Adam jerked her forward, pulling her out of her reverie. She instinctively followed him. The panic lingered as she curved and dodged around all sorts of people. Some merchants, some farmers, some knights. Some of the people in the square were dressed as she and Adam were, in plain colors, while others wore much more vibrant hues. Faces blurred past her. There were so many people. Voices rose around her, some loud and gruff, some quiet and timid. “Adam!” she pleaded. Her brother would not slow down. He was determined to be in the front. She skirted a rather large man wearing a ripped tunic.

Adam paused and released her wrist as silence spread over the square like a warm breeze. It was almost magical, the way it moved over the crowd and caused all the mutterings and murmurings to fade away one by one until there was nary a sound coming from anyone. And then, as one, the sea of people turned toward the road. Tingles raced along the nape of Justina’s neck. She craned her neck in an attempt to see over the taller men in front of her and a disgruntled frown tugged her lips down. She couldn’t see what was happening.

Then, Adam was moving again. She followed him through the maze of legs, ducking and squirming between them. It was hot and muggy in the midst of all these people, but Justina somehow managed to follow her brother. Suddenly, he was gone. She paused, desperately searching for his dirty blonde hair and tan tunic. Panic gripped her. She searched down low, through the legs of the bystanders. When there was no sight of him, she rose and stood on the tips of her toes, urgently trying to find him. She whirled, searching, but didn’t see him. He had to have moved forward to see his princess. She shoved forward, toward the street, and burst out of the crowd into the road.

Fresh air assailed her as she spun to look for her brother. Instead, her eyes locked on a man. Black eyes, black clothing, black hair. She froze. Dread and fear gripped her in an icy hand. She couldn’t move. She recognized him immediately. He was descending on her like the grim reaper. She shrunk away, recognizing those dark eyes, that face. She could never forget him. Her breath left her. It was him. It was him! He grabbed her arm. A terrified noise issued from her throat.

“Damien.”

The monster looked over his shoulder toward the voice.

An angel appeared, her pale face and white dress almost glowing in the bright sunlight. She lay her hand on the monster’s arm. “You are scaring her.”

The monster turned his dead, cold gaze to Justina and her world spun. For a moment, she thought he was going to kill her. That face. She would never forget that face.

“Justina!” Adam’s voice rang out.

Horrified the monster would turn his attention to her brother, she struggled in his hold. She stared at Adam who was approaching her with a skip in his step and joy in his brown eyes. She held a hand out to stop him, but Adam continued to come closer, a grin on his lips. Her heart pounded, and she looked back at the monster. The beast pulled her closer.

This was the end. He was going to kill her. She held up her hands to prevent the deadly strike.

“Watch where you’re going,” he snarled. Then, he released her arm. Justina tumbled to the ground on her backside, smashing the loaf of bread in the dust of the road. The monster turned away.

Cold engulfed Justina and she shivered. A jumble of emotions tumbled inside of her. Relief, fear, hatred. Paralyzed, she watched him leave her, watched him walk away. Tears rose in her eyes, stinging and burning. It took a moment for her to realize he wasn’t going to kill her. Free of his numbing hold, anger flared to life, extinguishing all her rational feelings. Like a silent accusation, she felt the cool metal of the dagger she always wore strapped to her thigh taunting her with her lack of response. Why hadn’t she used it? She had been too afraid. And that made her even more angry. How many times had she vowed to kill the monster? How many times had she imagined coming face to face with him and plunging the dagger into his chest? “I know you,” she whispered. Even her words came out shaky.