Heart 0f The Dragon (Atlantis Book 1)

by Gena Showalter

  Swallowing back his fear for her, Darius flew to the highest window and motioned for his warriors to do the same. The thin railing provided no ledge to stand upon, so he simply hovered there. A cold sweat covered his skin, and his teeth gnashed together. He was a man who liked to wait and study his enemy before attacking. But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—wait. Not this time. His warriors watched him, floating on silent wings. He couldn’t see through the darkened glass, but could hear voices.

  A woman’s scream filled his ears. Grace!

  He immediately gave the signal. Glass shattered as they propelled inside. Vampires hissed and humans aimed their guns. No longer protected by the vests, the dragons were vulnerable—and they knew it.

  Darius pushed, shoved and sliced his way toward Grace. Careful not to burn her with his fire.

  When she spied him, she struggled fruitlessly against her chains. “Darius,” she called, her voice weak, hollow.

  Jason Graves stood beside her, his expression one of shock and rage. Seeing Darius, the coward trained his gun on Grace’s temple. Darius did not allow himself to look at his wife’s face; he would have crumbled, and he had to stay strong. So it was then that he saw the blood oozing down her neck and onto her shirt.

  “We both know I’m going to kill you this day,” he told Jason, deceptively serene. “Your actions merely dictate whether you die quickly.” His gaze narrowed. “Or whether I make you suffer endlessly.”

  Jason’s hand shook as his gaze darted between Darius and the raging battle. Dragons breathed fire, scorching vampires and humans. Howls and shrieks blended together, creating a symphony of death. Sulfur coated the air.

  “Kill me,” Jason said, desperate, “and you’ll never recover the Book of Ra-Dracus.”

  Intent only on saving Grace, Darius stalked toward him. “I care not for the book.”

  “One step closer, and I’ll kill her. Do you hear me?” he screamed. “I’ll kill her!”

  Darius stilled completely. Yet…intense fury boiled in his blood, hotter and hotter until finally transforming him into his dragon self. He howled at the suddenness of the change, at the way his body elongated and sharpened. Scales armored his skin. His teeth lengthened and thinned, honed to razor-sharp points. His claws unsheathed. He felt the heat of the change and welcomed it.

  Jason’s eyes grew round, filling with undiluted terror. “Stop!” He aimed his gun at Darius and squeezed the trigger.

  Darius absorbed the impact of each bullet and launched himself at Jason. He twisted in the air, slashing the man’s face with his tail. The bastard screamed, collapsed to the ground, blood seeping from the deep gashes, jewels tumbling from his pockets. Darius reached for him again, but gunfire came at him from a different direction. Another bullet pelted his arm, and he spun, spraying fire at this other enemy. Protecting Grace.

  Having regained his breath, Jason scrambled up and stuffed the fallen jewels back into his pockets, the battle forgotten in his greed. Darius swung back to him just as Jason glanced up. Their gazes clashed for one startling second, terror against determination, before Darius bit his throat. Unsatisfied with that, Darius lashed him with his tail, clawed with his hands and slammed the man into the wall. A sickening crack followed as Jason’s neck snapped, and he collapsed to the ground in a lifeless heap.

  Jason’s eyes stared transfixed upon a huge blue sapphire, and his fingers gave one last twitch, perhaps reaching for the sparkling diamond that rolled across the floor toward Grace’s boot.

  It happened too quickly and wasn’t nearly enough. Not for the harm Jason had done. But Grace whimpered, and he suddenly didn’t care. Vengeance didn’t matter. Justice didn’t matter. Only his wife mattered.

  “Grace,” Darius said, Jason already forgotten. His concern overshadowed all else as he rushed to her. His scales receded, revealing smooth skin. His fangs retracted. His wings curled into his back. When he reached his wife, he ripped her bonds from the wall, and she sank into his arms.

  “Darius,” she murmured. Her eyes were closed, her face pale.

  He laid her gently on the floor and crouched beside her. As if sensing his vulnerable state, the vampire king swept before him, his eyes glowing that eerie blue. His sharp, white teeth were bared, ready to strike. The urge to leap up and attack was there, but Darius resisted. He wouldn’t risk hurting Grace further.

  Layel dove for him. Darius hunched over, protecting Grace with his body. He made no other move toward his opponent. The vampire’s teeth sank into his shoulder, but as quickly as Layel attacked, he withdrew.

  “Fight, you coward,” Layel growled. “We end this here and now.”

  He glared up at him. “You cannot provoke me. The woman’s life is more important, and I will not risk it. Not even to rid our world of your existence.”

  Blood dripped from Layel’s mouth, slashes of red against his pale skin. He looked ready to pounce again, but instead offered, panting, “What are you willing to do for me to save your woman?”

  “Call off your bloodsuckers, and I will not burn down your home.”

  “Burn my home and I will ensure your woman burns with it.”

  Grace uttered another whimper. Darius smoothed his hand over her brow, whispering soft words in her ear, though he never removed his gaze from Layel. “My warriors will disengage as soon as the woman is safe.”

  “I like having your warriors here. Easier to kill them.” As he watched them, something indistinguishable came over Layel’s expression. Something…almost human. He licked the blood from his mouth. “You love her?”

  “Of course.”

  “I loved once,” he said as if he couldn’t hold back the words.

  Darius studied the taut lines of Layel’s features. “Then you understand.”

  The vampire king gave an almost imperceptible nod, then closed his eyes for a long moment, pensive. When he refocused, he said, “To save the woman, I will allow you and your men to leave my castle in peace. But there will not always be a woman to shield you and we will fight again, Darius. That I promise you.”

  “I welcome the day.”

  Layel unfurled his cape and turned, but he wasn’t about to leave without offering one final blow. “I now possess many dragon medallions. Won’t be long before your home is mine,” he said, grinning over his shoulder.

  Before Darius could reply, smoke erupted around him, and the vampire disappeared. Just like that, the rest of the vampires disappeared, as well, and the dragons were left in midbattle stances. Confused, they swung around, their expressions feral as they hunted for their opponents.

  “Search the dungeons,” Darius called. He continued to hold and rock and coo at Grace, willing his strength into her body.

  Long moments later, Renard dragged a human man by the arm. Teira raced at his side, shouting that he was not to be hurt. Alex, Grace’s brother, Darius realized. The human paled when he saw Grace.

  “Grace,” he shouted and fought to free himself. Renard held tight.

  “These two were in the dungeon,” Renard said. “This is the man your woman spoke of, is it not?”

  “Release him.”

  The moment Alex gained his freedom, he sprinted to Grace. “What have you done to her,” he snarled, trying to rip her from Darius’s arms. “Let her go.”

  “If you do not remove your hand from my wife, I will remove it for you,” he snapped. “The woman is my mate. Mine. That you are her brother is the only reason you will live. No one touches her but me.”

  Wisely Alex dropped his hands to his side. He lost his fury and desperation, both replaced by confusion. “Your mate?” He knelt beside them. “Is she…”

  “She lives. She is merely weak from blood loss.”

  “She’s pale.”

  “Give her time,” Darius said, gazing down at this woman he loved and caressing a fingertip down her nose.

  “I’m awake,” she said quietly. “I’m sorry I let them get me. I tried to fight, but…”

  Relief shuddered through hi
m, and he couldn’t hold back his next words. “I love you, Grace Carlyle.”

  “That’s Grace en Kragin.” Her eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled slowly. “And I love you, too.”

  Darius didn’t know where Javar’s medallion was, how many medallions Layel had or when the vampire would try and use them. Nor did he know where the Book of Ra-Dracus was, but he had Grace, and that’s what mattered.

  “I was so afraid…”

  He cupped her cheeks in his hands. “Hush. All is well. Your brother is here.”

  To verify this, Alex leaned into her line of vision and grinned. “I’m here, sis. I’m here.”

  “Oh, thank God.” With a grimace, she sat up and wrapped her arms around him, hugging, her grip fragile. “I missed you. I was so worried about you.”

  Darius allowed her a few minutes to reunite with her brother, then reclaimed her in the circle of his arms, exactly where she belonged.

  She glanced up at him. “So what do we do from here?”

  “I want you to live here with me. We can build a life together and raise our children.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Yes. Yes.”

  Chuckling, he smoothed back her hair, then kissed her nose, her lips, her chin. “I think your brother will be staying, as well.”

  “Really?” Grace glanced at her brother curiously.

  Alex wagged his brows and motioned to the beautiful blonde. “He means,” her brother said, putting his arm around Teira, “that I’ve found love, too. Grace, I’d like to introduce my future wife, Teira.”

  She and Grace shared a secret smile, then Grace turned to Darius. “We can’t leave my mom and aunt Sophie on the surface without us.”

  “I’m sure Layel has room for them.”

  “No!”

  He smiled at her, a true, genuine smile. “I was teasing, Grace.”

  She stilled. Blinked. Darius? Teasing? How…shocking.

  “You do find teasing acceptable, do you not, sweet Grace?”

  “Of course. I just didn’t expect it from you.”

  A tender light consumed his golden eyes. “You thought I lacked humor?”

  “Well, yeah,” she admitted. She drew in the masculinity of his scent, closed her eyes and savored. “But I love you anyway. You’ll adore having my mom and aunt with us.”

  His lips twitched. “I’m not sure my men are prepared,” he said with an undercurrent of humor. “But for you, anything.”

  “I love you,” she said again. “Have I told you the one about the dragon who couldn’t say no?”

  * * * * *

  New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter returns with a sizzling Lords of the Underworld story about an iron-willed sovereign and the somber beauty who melts him with a glance…don’t miss Cameo and Lazarus’s story in

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  Cameo’s head canted to the side. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “Like what?” Like you are the reason I breathe? “Like I’m hungry, and you are a smorgasbord of desserts?”

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  “Because you are a smorgasbord of desserts.” Lazarus chucked her under the chin. “You wanted to know your worth. You are a prize worthy of any man.”

  “I never said I wanted—” She shook a fist in his face, an action he adored. Her anger always thrilled him. “Stop reading my mind.”

  “Stop projecting.” He stalked down the cobblestone path, calling over his shoulder, “This way.”

  Cameo raced to catch up with him. They walked side by side, the close proximity an agony and a pleasure. Torches lined the path, soft golden lights painting her with irresistible radiance.

  Her eyes were molten, a sea of silvery fire. The night’s warmth brushed her cheeks with an exquisite pink flush. Her bloodred lips were lush and lickable, a temptation like no other and a special kind of torture. One kiss, they said. Satisfaction awaits.

  “Just so you know,” she grated. “I might have desired you before, but I resent you now.”

  “Might?” He laughed with smug assurance. “Your passion nearly burned me alive.”

  She sputtered, her memory loss making her unable to refute his claim.

  Hoping to encourage her irritation and displace what remained of the misery that her demon always spread throughout her mind, he took the lead and pushed a flowering branch out of the way…only to release the branch just before she passed by. The soft flower petals slapped her in the chest.

  She glared at him. “You did that on purpose.”

  “No ne
ed to punish me.” Do not smile. “Your voice is punishment enough.”

  “That’s it!” She hooked her hands around his neck and jerked, using the full force of her body. A body she then coiled around him, as deftly as a sky serpent. Her weight and momentum toppled him.

  The action was unexpected. The only reason it worked—of course.

  Upon impact, she maintained her hold and rolled, forcing him to his back. He had no time to react. She straddled his chest, unsheathed one of her diamond daggers and pressed the tip into his carotid.

  Instant hard-on. No one else had ever taken him to ground.

  Proof she would only ever weaken him?

  Instant soft-on.

  One of her midnight brows arched, her usual misery edged with smug satisfaction. “You were saying?”

  Such confidence. Such cunning. Was there any woman more beautiful?

  With her hands otherwise occupied, she wouldn’t be able to stop what he did with his own…

  He should resist. A man didn’t play with temptation; temptation played with him. Their association could not end well.

  In that moment, he simply didn’t care.

  Lazarus gripped her by the waist, grunting as skin met heated skin. “So soft,” he intoned. “So perfect.”

  A tremor rocked her against him. His hard-on returned with a vengeance.

  With a hiss, she pressed the tip of her dagger deeper, drawing a bead of blood. Her jaw dropped. “You’re bleeding.”

  Lazarus caressed his thumbs up and down Cameo’s quivering belly and circled her navel. “I still bleed, yes,” he said. His voice dipped. “I’m capable of spilling another fluid, too.”

  “Stop,” she demanded, breathless.

  “Stop giving you pleasure?” He traced his fingertips up, up, and met the undersides of her breasts.

  Beneath the fabric of her bra, her nipples hardened into tight little buds.

  “Yes. No.” She covered her breasts with her free arm. “Stop screwing with my mind.”

  “How about I just screw you?”

  “No?” she replied, a question when she’d probably intended to make a statement.

  Up…up… He slid his hands underneath her arm and cupped her breasts. “Exquisite.” His mind steamed with lust. “Look how responsive you are to me.” Only to me.