Angel's Assassin by Laurel O'Donnell

proffered lance and
shove it down the arrogant knight’s throat.
    “I have no favors to offer this day,” Aurora
replied.
    Sir Harold clutched at his heart with his
free hand. “You wound me, m’lady.”
    Damien remained motionless, forcing his fists
to keep from clenching.
    “Perhaps another show of strength would
impress you enough to win your favor,” Harold said playfully.
“Perhaps your bodyguard would
care to go a length with me.”
    Aurora cast a quick glance at Damien, then
looked back to Harold. “He has no horse, no lance. Surely--”
    “There are plenty of horses here for him to
use. And lances are many.”
    Damien read the unease in the depths of
Aurora’s eyes.
    Helen clapped her hands in encouragement.
“Yes! Let Damien joust Sir Harold.”
    Damien forced the tension to abate from his
shoulders, relaxing his muscles. So this was their plan, he
realized. A clumsy attempt to draw him into a fight. His dark eyes
trained on Harold. “I am here to protect Lady Aurora, not to
entertain you with a joust.”
    “Then a quick sword play,” Harold countered.
“Every good bodyguard needs to keep his skills fresh.” Contempt
dripped from every one of Harold’s words.
    They were beginning to draw a crowd as more
and more knights gathered around them, making Damien even more
uncomfortable with such concentrated attention. This was not the
place for him. He did not relish being the center of attention to a
growing mob. He kept his face impassive.
    Aurora interposed herself before Damien,
almost as if protecting him. “Damien’s skills are very adequate. I
have seen them in action.”
    “But the rest of us have not,” Harold
exclaimed. He opened his arms to the group of knights who stood
about them now, the armored men looking like the bars of a cage,
intent on keeping Damien confined within their perimeter. “Isn’t
that right? How many would like to see Damien’s sword skills?”
    The crowd around them exploded with applause
and “ayes.”
    Harold slid from his horse with an easy
dismount. He ducked the fence to stand before Damien. “After all,
you are protecting Acquitaine’s greatest treasure. I would be
betraying my oath to Acquitaine if I demanded any less. I would
like to know your skills are impeccable. What do you say,
bodyguard? Care to share your secrets with the rest of us?”
    The men around them mumbled in agreement;
some sneered with open hostility.
    Every one of Damien’s senses demanded he
attack. His self-preservation instincts told him this knight was a
threat. The beast inside him burned through his veins, demanding
release, demanding action. But Damien had learned long ago when to
keep the beast reined. Now was not the time, nor the place. He
placed his hand on Aurora’s back and began to steer her away,
moving through the crowd.
    The crowd opened grudgingly before them.
    Harold dogged their steps, taunting, “Coward.
What kind of bodyguard are you to turn your back on a good
fight?”
    Aurora stopped and spun on Harold. “That is
quite enough, Sir Harold.”
    “My apologies, my lady,” he said,
bowing. His judgmental stare remained fixed with acrimony on
Damien. “But I believe we do not need an outsider to protect you. We are able knights,
worthy of first consideration.” He stepped past her to Damien.
“Tell me why he is afraid to fight me, if he is so good. Tell me
why he will not raise a sword to prove his worth.”
    Aurora opened her mouth to reply, but Damien
answered instead, “Because I would kill you.”
    Hatred glared from Harold’s eyes. Damien had
seen the look many, many times before. He stood still, his body
relaxed, ready for anything.
    Aurora’s hand surrounded Damien’s. Tingles
shot up his arm, replacing his readiness to battle with something
warm and soft and… dangerous. Dangerous because he should be
concentrating on the menace before him. Her tiny tug moved him
forward because he let it.
    “We must go,” she said.
    Damien remained still for a