Atlantis Series Complete Collection

by Gena Showalter

  He allowed his gaze to sweep over her. The hem of her robe was noticeably shorter where she’d torn the strips for his wounds, revealing the peaches-and-cream perfection of her calves. Smooth and lean, slightly muscled. All traces of amusement abandoned him. Though she’d moved away, he felt the imprint of her nipples all the way to the marrow of his bones.

  “I did warn you that I planned to pay with kisses,” he said, willing her to close the rest of the distance between them. He needed her tongue in his mouth. Weakened body be damned.

  She lost her amusement, too. Her smile disappeared. Desire lit her features, swirling in her eyes. “Yes, you did warn me,” she said, breathless.

  “Com’ere.”

  Slowly she moved her face toward his, so close the sweetness of her breath fanned his chin. “I shouldn’t.”

  “You should.”

  “You’re hurt.”

  “Not too hurt. Kiss me.”

  “Yes, I—No.” She blinked and straightened her back, widening the distance between them. “No. We need to eat,” she said, giving no other reason for her sudden refusal.

  What had changed her mind? He wanted to demand an answer, but his pride wouldn’t allow him. A woman had never pulled away from him before, and he didn’t like that one had now—one he wanted more and more as the seconds passed. One he wanted more than he’d ever wanted another.

  He ate the bread first, relishing the familiar taste, then tore into his energy bar, eating half in one bite. Jewel, too, ate her bread, then nibbled on the bar, wrinkling her pixie nose in distaste.

  The wind kicked up, rustling leaves and gusting tendrils of her hair over her shoulders, onto his chest. It felt like a caress of her hand.

  He gulped. “We really should get moving soon. The longer we stay here, the more likely the demons are to find us.”

  “They’ll never find us here. In fact, we’re safer here than we would be anywhere else.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Marina fears the owner of this land.”

  He considered that and wondered if they should fear the owner of the land. “So tell me, Prudence. Where will I find the Jewel of Dunamis?”

  Her cheeks paled, leaving her skin pallid. “You need rest. There is no reason to worry about that now.”

  “You swore to take me to it. Are you planning to renege on me?” He spoke quietly. Deceptively calm.

  “No, of course not.” The thunderous look Gray was giving her now was the look he usually reserved for his enemies. Ominous. Deadly. “I have every intention of revealing exactly where Dunamis is.”

  His shoulders relaxed. “So where is it?”

  She turned to him, meeting his gaze and holding his stare. The fact that she was still fighting her need to kiss him didn’t help matters. But run, she would not. Kiss him, she would not. He might not remember what had happened inside his consciousness last night, but she did. She remembered how he’d thought of her as “not for him.” Remembered that he’d intended to push her away if she hadn’t done it herself.

  If she kissed him now, she wouldn’t have the strength to pull away from him, even if she heard him curse her to Hades. She’d spent the entire night caring for him, bathing him when his fever raged, pouring water down his throat. Sleep had been impossible when his survival depended on her, so shards of fatigue rode her hard, weakening her resolve to remain distanced from him.

  “Where is it?” he demanded again.

  She pushed out a breath and prayed he took her next words as the answer. “I need you to escort me to the Temple of Cronus.” A sense of foreboding swept over her. For her? For Gray? Or the temple? She closed her eyes, trying to center the sensation, to study it, but it slipped out of reach.

  Gray bared his teeth in a scowl. “That wasn’t the deal, babe.”

  He hadn’t taken it the way she’d hoped; instead, he’d heard the hesitation in her voice, the wistful catch. She couldn’t lie to him, but now she’d have to utter a distorted truth he would assume meant one thing, when in fact, it meant another. It’s what she had done with Marina, and she hated to do it to Gray, but she had to reach the temple.

  The only memory she had of her father was inside that temple. His face was a blur to her, but she remembered how he’d descended the long, white steps, coming straight for her, his arms wide.

  “I sprang you from prison,” Gray said. “You take me to Dunamis. That was the deal, and you know it.”

  “What if I told you that you will discover Dunamis at the temple?”

  “Will I?” he asked, suspicious.

  “I wouldn’t have said so otherwise, would I?”

  He remained silent for a long, protracted moment. Finally he relaxed. “If Dunamis is in the temple, that’s where we’re going. Geez. For a minute you made it sound like they were entirely separate things.”

  She blinked innocently. It had taken Marina over a year to even suspect that when Jewel responded with a question, the real truth did not lie in the answer. Gray was well on his way to that realization after only a few days.

  “Is anyone or thing guarding it?” he asked. “Dunamis, I mean?”

  “It does have one protector, yes.”

  When she said no more, he added, “You want to tell me what I’ll be up against?”

  How did she explain without lying? “The protector is strong and brave, but he will let you do whatever you wish with Dunamis.”

  Gray’s eyes narrowed. “Just like that?” He snapped his fingers. “The man will give it up just like that?”

  “Answer a question for me first. Why do you want it so badly? The jewel, I mean.”

  “You mean you don’t know?”

  “All I know is that you do not wish to conquer and rule the surface world, nor do you plan to use it to destroy an enemy.”

  His silver gaze pierced her all the way to her core. Jewel didn’t think a man had ever looked at her the way Gray did, as if she were a platter of some unknown, but delicious-smelling dessert.

  “Will my reason affect your willingness to take me to it?”

  “No,” she said, and it was the truth. No distortion. No dancing around the issue.

  He nodded, deciding to trust her. “I want Dunamis because it’s dangerous. In the wrong hands, millions of people could be annihilated. I want Dunamis,” he added carefully, “because it needs to be guarded by the right people or be destroyed.”

  Her stomach knotted, sadness mixing with her dread. She’d had to hear that, hadn’t she? What would he do or say if he knew that destroying the jewel would destroy her? Would he hesitate in his determination, perhaps change his mind? Or would he act without reservation?

  “I will answer your question now,” she said, forcing the words out. “The protector of Dunamis will let you destroy it. Just like that.” She snapped her fingers.

  “Why?” Incredulity radiated from him.

  “He believes as you do, that it needs to be destroyed.”

  Gray’s brow furrowed. “Then why the hell does he protect it?”

  “That is a question you will have to ask him yourself.”

  He opened his mouth, his eyes thoughtful, then he closed his mouth with a snap. Opened, closed. Finally, he growled, “What do you have on under that robe?”

  Confused, she blinked over at him. What kind of question was that? He knew what she wore under her robe: a thin white chemise. He’d seen it. Had he planned to ask her something else, then changed his mind?

  She sighed. She might have watched this man her entire life, but she doubted she’d ever understand him. Or maybe it was just men she didn’t understand. All the other male minds she’d ever read had been focused only on their survival. Some hoping to block her out so that whoever owned her at the time wouldn’t know of their crimes. Others had merely been nervous, wanting her to see the truth so she could send them on their way. But for all of that, she’d never taken time to truly explore the male thought process.

  “You want to know what I’m wearing
under my robe?”

  “That’s right.”

  “But—why?” She wished she could read his mind right now.

  “Instead of answering me, why don’t you show me?” Gray let out a heavy breath. Damn it. For a moment, when they’d been discussing the destruction of Dunamis, Jewel had looked so lost, so sad, and he hadn’t known what caused the transformation. He’d only known he had to fix it.

  Thankfully, he had. Color bloomed bright in her cheeks, and her take-me-to-bed eyes sparkled. Desire flared to life, but it couldn’t beat past the sudden sense of lethargy racing through him. He gently stretched his arms over his head, arching his back. His mouth widened in a yawn.

  “You’ve already seen exactly what I’m wearing under the robe. Soaking wet, no less.”

  “Maybe I’ve forgotten.” His eyelids were growing heavy. “Maybe I need to see again.”

  “No, you do not,” she said primly. “What would Katie say about your behavior?”

  Hearing her speak his sister’s name so easily was disconcerting. Strange and surreal. “How do you know Katie?” His question held curiosity and surprise as he fought to stay awake. “I haven’t thought about her since I met you.”

  “I’m sorry.” Jewel nibbled on her bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have mentioned her.”

  “It’s okay.” He yawned again. “Really. I’m just curious. How do you know about her?”

  Agitated, Jewel eased to her feet, but he was unable to read her expression, unable to figure out what she was thinking. “I don’t want to talk about this,” she said, her voice soft.

  He wanted to push her for an answer, but didn’t think that would be wise. She looked ready to bolt and never return. He didn’t understand this…or what it meant. “Jewel,” he said.

  “Sleep,” she interjected, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say.

  A blast of fatigue hit him.

  “I’m going to the river to fish,” she said. “If I never eat another energy bar, I will die content.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  JEWEL STOOD AT the edge of the river, her robe tucked into her waist, liquid lapping at her ankles, her hands wrapped around a long, sharp stick. She’d removed her shoes, and moss-covered rocks supported her feet. The dome above stretched hot fingers over the land, making her sweat through the thin material of her clothing. She stared down at the clear, dappled water, watching, waiting for a plump fish to swim past. She’d never done this, had never lived off the land before, and prayed she was successful.

  Soon a long, fat swirl of iridescent color darted between her ankles. Her heart skipped a beat. Finally! Her hand tightened around the stick as the fish continued to swim around her, nipping at her ankles. When it tired of playing with her nonresponsive legs, its rainbow fins spanned and flapped, ready to bolt.

  She threw the spear.

  And missed.

  The succulent thing darted away to safety. “Damn it,” she growled, sounding very much like Gray.

  Over the next half hour, four more delicious-looking fish swam past her, and she missed each one of them, her spear falling uselessly into the water.

  “I can do this. I can.”

  Another fifteen minutes passed. Finally, a plump, incandescent beauty came within her sights. She stilled, even her breathing grinding to a halt. One, two, she mentally counted. He was about to swim…three! She tossed the spear.

  Success! The tip of her spear cut into the target.

  “I did it,” she said, jumping up and down, splashing water in every direction. “I did it!” She grinned, holding the stick up for inspection, feeling proud and accomplished as she eyed the flopping treat. No more energy bars today, thank you very much.

  She skipped back into camp and leaned her stick against a tree. Gray was still sleeping. His features were relaxed, giving him a boyish quality that warmed her. His pale hair fell over his forehead, and he had one arm over his head; the other rested over his bare chest.

  Her hands itched to reach out and trace the hard planes of his abdomen, the ropes of muscles that led down, down—she gulped, forcing herself to gather twigs and grass. After building a sufficient mound, she used Gray’s lighter to create a fire. Once the flames crackled with heat, she cleaned the fish as best she could and held out the stick, cooking the meat until it flaked into her hands. Unfortunately the outside charred.

  A little while later, Gray yawned and stretched, grimacing as his wounds protested the sudden movement. Then he stiffened, his eyes darting in every direction before settling on her. He pulled himself to a sitting position.

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. Sorry.”

  “You needed the rest. You look better already.”

  “I feel better. What’s that?” he said with a chin tilt to the fish.

  “I’ve never cooked before, but I have seen it done, so you’ll have to tell me how I did.” Using a large, firm leaf as a plate, she scooped some of the fish on top, and handed it to Gray.

  He accepted with a raised brow. “What if I’m not hungry?”

  “You’ll eat it anyway, because you don’t want to hurt my feelings after I went to the trouble of catching and cooking it.”

  “Good answer.” He took a tentative bite, chewing slowly, his expression unreadable.

  She was just about to ask him what he thought, when something in his backpack started speaking. A real, human voice. Jewel jumped, her gaze going impossibly wide.

  Gray set his plate aside and dug inside the pack. He tangled his free hand through his hair. “Check-in time.”

  “Ah, your communicator,” she said, when he withdrew a small black box. She’d seen him use the box on several of his missions. People from his work were able to speak with him, and he to them. Her apprehension faded.

  “Mother, this is Santa.” He spoke directly into the box. “Go ahead.”

  “Where are you?” a deep male voice said.

  “Pickup has been delayed,” Gray responded.

  “Should we send another courier?”

  He rubbed a hand down his face. “No. I have scheduled a pickup within the next few days. Copy.”

  “Copy. Over.”

  “Over.” Gray shoved the box into his backpack and picked up his plate. He took a bite, acting as if he hadn’t just had a conversation with his box. Or boss. Or whoever. His expression remained blank as he chewed.

  She decided not to ask about his work; she could guess. The package: Dunamis. What she couldn’t guess was how he felt about the food. She waited beside him, rising on her haunches, ready to hear his praise. “Well?”

  “Tastes like chicken,” he said. “Thank you for cooking.”

  Not what she’d wanted to hear because she remembered how he’d complained about chicken in one of her visions. She’d hoped for delicious, scrumptious, or savory. “It’s good for you, so eat it whether you like it or not.”

  She filled a leaf for herself, sat back and nibbled on the burned flakes. Not wonderful, but not as bad as that energy bar either. “I wish we had pizza delivery here. I’ve always wondered what one of those gooey round things taste like.”

  His hand froze midair, hovering just in front of his mouth for a split second before he lowered it. “First you knew about the Hoover, among other surface items, then you knew about my sister Katie, and now you know about pizza, yet you don’t know what it tastes like. I know you said you don’t want to talk about this, but I have to know. How can you know of them, but not have experienced them? You said you never visited the surface.”

  She didn’t want to answer. She could walk away from him again—she doubted he had the strength to follow—but he’d just bring it up the next time he saw her. Determination seeped from his every pore.

  He’d been upset with the thought of her reading his mind, so how would he react to knowing she’d watched his life unfold all these many years?

  No matter the answer to that, he deserved to know.

  She closed her eyes and gathered her courage, then force
d the words to emerge. “I’ve had visions of you for years.” There. She’d confessed, and the rest spilled from her. “I watched you grow from boy to man. Sometimes you’d appear in my night dreams, sometimes in my daydreams, the rest of the world fading from my consciousness.”

  “What? How?” Those simple single-word questions whipped from him, lashing out.

  “I didn’t see your entire life,” she assured him, “but merely glimpses. And I don’t know how, only that it was so.”

  A moment passed in heavy silence while he absorbed her revelation. “Glimpses of what, exactly?” Now his tone was devoid of emotion, and somehow that was all the more frightening.

  “I saw your family, your home. Your,” she coughed and glanced away, “women.”

  “That seems like more than a glimpse to me.” Still, no emotion.

  “I had no control over it. I tried to stop them, to close my mind to them, but the harder I tried, the more visions I received.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like being spied on.”

  “I didn’t spy on you,” she ground out. “I wish you’d had visions of me, so that this wouldn’t seem so one-sided and wrong.”

  His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “That’s it. That’s where I’ve seen you.”

  “What?” Her brow furrowed. “Where?”

  “I’ve seen you before. I told you that. Remember, I asked you if we’d met?” It all fell into place, and Gray’s fish settled like lead in his stomach. Why hadn’t he recognized who she was immediately? He’d known she was familiar to him the first moment he saw her.

  Over the years, he’d dreamed of her. He’d thought nothing of the dreams at the time, thought they were merely products of his overactive imagination and the weird things he’d encountered, but now he replayed some of them through his mind.

  Jewel chained to a wall, her body draped in a blue robe, her black hair streaming around her. Men and women were paraded in front of her, some killed afterward, others spared.

  Jewel being held down while someone chopped off her hair. A punishment, the one-armed, knife-wielding bastard said, for omitting details.