Atlantis Series Complete Collection

by Gena Showalter

  “No!”

  Expecting it this time, Layel managed to catch it with a movement so swift his swinging arm was nothing more than a blur. “Coward.”

  “What did you call me?” was the hissed reply.

  “You heard me, dragon. Hitting me while I was unaware is the act of a coward.”

  “No, it is the act of a smart man.”

  “Tagart,” Delilah snapped. “Stop.”

  “Whose side are you on, Amazon?” Tagart pointed an accusing finger at her. “I thought you had already chosen. But every time I turn around you are with him.”

  She opened her mouth, but no words emerged. Were she to say that she was indeed on his side, Layel would hate her. Again. Were she to declare allegiance to Layel, her team would soon vote for her to die.

  In the end, she didn’t have to say a word. A shark suddenly flew from between the center stumps, large jaws and fearsome teeth snapping at them. Its fat gray tail slapped at the female nymph, who screeched and fell. Layel didn’t seem to care. Maybe that was why Delilah suddenly felt sorry for her. Thankfully the mermen swam her to safety.

  One of the shark’s fins nailed Nola in the stomach, but she managed to remain standing. For the moment.

  When the shark hit the water, disappearing from view, everyone stilled, quiet.

  Nola’s eyes closed and she rubbed her temple. “I do not feel so…good.” Her knees suddenly collapsed and she toppled.

  Brand dove for her. When he surfaced, he had her wrapped in his arms. She was pale, teeth chattering as he dragged her toward the beach and laid her gently on the sand. That’s when Layel tossed the rock he’d caught. It slammed into Tagart’s groin with a thud.

  “You’re right,” he said when the distracted dragon doubled over and yelped. “Smart.”

  Tagart propelled straight into the water. He didn’t rise for a heartbeat, two, and then the water began to swirl, brighten. There was a huge spray when Tagart emerged as a dragon. He unleashed a fiery roar, his wings spreading, scales already replacing skin, tail twitching.

  A stream of that fire launched at Layel. He ducked, the flames singeing his back. Vampires were quick, faster than any other race, but Layel had nowhere to go—and fire was a vampire’s greatest weakness. She knew because Amazons made a point of studying every race, looking for ways to defeat them.

  “Stop, Tagart. Stop!” Brand called from the beach. “Innocents are in the way.”

  Tagart was beyond listening. He spit another stream of crackling flames, cutting past everyone still standing—Zane and Broderick jumped into the water to avoid impact—and then the fire hit Layel, who had stubbornly refused to budge. Delilah screamed and found herself leaping to take the hit herself.

  Just when the flames were about to engulf her, Layel’s arms banded around her, jerking her down, down, down, twisting, landing in the water, his body the first to hit. But his feet had been the last to leave the stump. Which meant his team had won. She swallowed a mouthful, choking. The salt stung the marks on her neck, her lungs seized and she fought to get to the surface.

  Layel’s grip tightened. Her eyes widened as she realized why. The shark was swimming toward them, mouth open, teeth gleaming hungrily.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  SHIVAWN AWOKE WITH a jolt and moaned. He ached. He was weak, drained. Too much sex play, he suspected. Had happened before, and would probably happen again.

  Grinning, he cracked open his eyelids, the world around him blurry, out of focus. There was darkness with only the slightest hint of gold. A few feet away, water dripped a slow, steady rhythm. The walls closing in at his sides were…rocky, he realized, not the ivory and onyx he was now used to.

  Where was he?

  Not in a bed. The ground beneath him was as rocky as the walls, the air damp and musty. A cave? And why did heavy weights pull at his wrists and ankles? His grin faded, amusement replaced by anger, as he turned his head and saw the heavy chains that bound him.

  Bound? He was bound?

  A lovely female face flashed in his mind, teeth bared, fury in her blue eyes. He remembered. “Alyssa!” he snarled.

  One of the shadows in the corner shifted. Then, suddenly, she was beside him, staring down at him. Never had she looked lovelier. Her skin was flushed a healthy pink, her cheeks filled out, her lips bloodred. She wore a black robe, and it covered every inch of skin except for her breathtaking face and delicate hands. “So. You’re awake.”

  “Unchain me. Now!” He jerked his arms and legs, but the thick links held strong. His weakened state was no match for them.

  “You had best be quiet, nymph.”

  “Alyssa.”

  She traced her fingertip over his bare chest. So. She had removed his shirt. What else had she done to him? His teeth ground together, his body unresponsive.

  Most of his life, his shaft had been an asset. It had reliably risen for anything female. Except her. He didn’t know why. The night he’d spent with her, he’d had to think of others to stay hard.

  He hadn’t lied to her. He’d left her sleeping in bed, sated, while he had wallowed in dissatisfaction, frustration and confusion. He wasn’t eager to repeat the experience.

  What was it about her that so turned him off? Every time he looked at her, all he could see in his mind was blood. All he could hear were screams.

  “Let me go and we’ll pretend this never happened.”

  Her nails, still resting on his chest, grew to sharp little points, slicing into his skin. “Oh, no. There will be no release for you. Not yet.”

  “Alyssa,” he gritted out again.

  “I brought you here to punish you, you know. To give you what you deserve. I wanted to hurt you, destroy you, but as I watched you sleeping I realized I couldn’t do it.” She laughed bitterly. “What I can do, however, is pleasure you. Pleasure you so fiercely you’ll never forget what happened in this cave, never forget the woman responsible. And most of all you’ll wish, desperately, for more.” The more she spoke, the more determination dripped from her tone.

  “The nymph army will search for me. They’ll find us and you’ll be killed for this.”

  A cold smile hovered at the edges of her lush mouth. She shook her head, hair dancing. “They’ll assume we disappeared like the others.”

  His stomach tightened with dread. She was right. “This isn’t going to make me love you, Alyssa. This is going to make me hate you.”

  Her gaze lowered, and she traced circles around each of his nipples. “I know,” she admitted softly.

  “Then free me. Now.”

  “It seems I’ve wanted you forever,” she said as if he had not spoken. “I know I’ve dreamed of us together, over and over again. And the one pure, perfect memory I had, you ruined.”

  He could not, would not soften toward his captor. When he gained his freedom, and he would, he would ensure she was unable to harm another warrior. “I told you that was not my intention, but you wanted the truth, so I gave it to you.”

  “I was not finished,” she said, jaw firmed. “You left me and you were unsatisfied.”

  He could not deny it, so did not reply.

  “As I said before,” she rasped, long lashes rising. Her eyes glittered dangerously, filled with a determination so complete he’d never seen its equal. Stronger, even, than her tone. “You will be completely sated when I’m through with you. You’ll think of me constantly, recall the bliss I gave you, and you’ll want more the way I have wanted more all these years. But I will never give it to you. After this, we will be on equal ground. And I will be done with you.”

  Dark rage seethed through him. He was a warrior. Being captured like this—and by a woman—was humiliating. What’s more, he was a nymph. He should be able to charm her into doing anything he wanted. More, he should want this, should merely consider it play.

  Not desiring a woman was almost…sacrilegious. “That will be rape,” he found himself saying, and could not believe the words had sprung from his mouth. No other nymph would
have uttered them. Ever. They would have reveled in any pleasure this woman gave them.

  A strangled cry left Alyssa, and she jerked her hand away from him.

  He used the reprieve to think. Why had he stopped her? Nymphs needed sex to survive. Without it, they grew weak. Might even die. With it, though, they grew impossibly strong. He should let her ride him, restoring all of his strength, and then he should break these chains and strangle her with them.

  Yes, that was a sound plan. He would grit his teeth and bear it. He only hoped he could fool her and actually respond to her touch.

  He popped his jaw—calm, stay calm—and forced his expression to soften. “I’m sorry. That was cruel of me to say.” And difficult to apologize when he did not mean a word of it. “You want me, and I want you.”

  The woman was going to suffer for bringing him to this point.

  She blinked in surprise, then suspicion. “What game do you play?”

  “No game. I simply wish to bed you.”

  Unconvinced, she shook her head. “You suddenly want me before I have even begun? Just like that?” She snapped her fingers. “Only a moment ago it would have been rape.”

  “Yes. Just like that.” He’d had to swallow his fury to choke out the words.

  “Liar.” But her hands returned to his chest, as if she wanted to believe him despite her doubts. She dipped a fingertip into his navel, leaned down and kissed him there, gaze never leaving his.

  He inhaled sharply, then had to grit his teeth as he’d supposed, his father’s screams suddenly exploding in his head. His ears rang, and the scent of death filled his nose. Every muscle in his body tensed. This was what happened every time Alyssa neared him. Regaining his strength was not worth this. “You…you… I can’t stand the smell of you,” he ground out, not knowing what else to say to make her leave. “You have to back away from me.”

  Alyssa uttered an embarrassed yelp and stood. “You’re a cruel man,” she rasped out, “yet I convinced myself otherwise, lapping up every scrap you tossed my way. Enough! No longer will I do so. You want me to bathe? I will. I want nothing to diminish your enjoyment. And you will enjoy. Not that you deserve it.

  “You never noticed, but I’ve been unable to drink another’s blood since our joining. I was literally dying for your blood, damn you, but now I’ve had it. Now I’m strong. And soon we will be free of each other.” She stalked from the cave, leaving him alone.

  His head fell against the rocks, those terrible memories fading from his mind in the wake of her heated accusations and departure. She hadn’t drunk from another? She loved him that much? It was almost…humbling. But surely she had exaggerated. Surely she hadn’t truly been dying because of his refusal.

  Right?

  He thought back to how pale she’d been lately, how sunken her cheeks and eyes had become. Now, after having his blood, she glowed. He was ashamed to admit it, but he hadn’t noticed her decline.

  He frowned, concern overshadowing every hint of his anger and freeing his mind from thoughts of revenge. How would he feel if she were to take her last breath? If he were never to see her again, as she’d vowed?

  He’d come to expect her presence. She was Alyssa, the female who constantly sought him out, who watched him with lust in her eyes. Who did everything in her power to seduce him. The same as most females, were he honest. But she wanted more than sex. As many times as she’d invited him to bed, she’d asked for his aid in devising battle plans, beseeched him to join her for a stroll through the Outer City and sent him books she’d enjoyed so that they could one day discuss them. She wanted conversation, to know his thoughts and have him listen to hers. She wanted to know him as a man, not just a lover.

  There wasn’t a single spark of satisfaction at the thought of her demise, as he would have guessed. There wasn’t even relief. The thought of being without her actually saddened him. Yes, saddened, he realized.

  Despite what she made him feel when he looked at her, she was lovely. He even liked arguing with her. A few times, she’d even made him smile. She was smart, witty. Lusty. But somehow he’d come to equate her with the suffering of the past, and that had tainted his feelings toward her.

  The first time he’d seen her, as a woman, no longer a little girl, he’d been consumed with lust for her. He’d wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another. But the moment he’d approached her, gazing into her eyes, that lust had turned to disgust, the screams of the past consuming him. That had never changed. Why had the past interfered? Did it matter? Escape should be his only concern right now.

  For an eternity, he tried to fight his way free of the chains. All he did was cut his skin. What kind of warrior am I? he wondered.

  Finally, she returned. Her hair was wet and she was wearing a different robe. A blue one, to match her eyes. Prettier than ever, he thought and closed his own eyes. Instant arousal, but he knew it was only a matter of time before it withered.

  “I should now meet even your lofty standards,” she said.

  Alyssa climbed on top of him, straddling him. She flattened her palms on his chest, the heat of her core, covered though it was by her robe, pressing against his throbbing erection. Where she touched, a small blaze kindled. Odd. That had never happened before. Not with her. Why had it now?

  “There is much we need to discuss,” he said, mind still churning. She hadn’t looked any different, and she certainly hadn’t endeared herself to him. But for once, there was no flash of blood in his mind, no screams. She stroked his chest like a favored pet. There were calluses on her hands, calluses that evoked a delicious friction.

  Suddenly he didn’t want her to stop touching him.

  “Alyssa,” he began, not really knowing what to say.

  “Stop talking.” Her fingertips never ceased their determined movement, tracing the line of his jaw, his ears, the slope of his neck and collarbone.

  His blood heated with a shocking amount of desire. “You are…this is…” His frown deepened. How was she doing this? He opened his eyes to study her, heard a scream inside his head, lost his arousal and quickly closed his eyes again. Silence.

  Her face, he realized. Something about it must send him back. But what?

  She scooted lower on him, rubbing him once again to readiness. He hissed in a breath as she leaned down and licked him directly on his nipple. It hardened, reaching for more of the hot perfection of her mouth.

  “Are you thinking of another woman?” she asked huskily.

  Her sharp little teeth scraped the skin surrounding his other nipple, so the only noise that escaped him was a moan. Of pleasure.

  She hadn’t been this aggressive before. She had bitten him last time, yes, but it had been accidental. Even knowing it, he had nearly slapped her for it. Only his quick reflexes had stopped him.

  He’d nearly been drained once, and it had been as painful, horrific and humiliating as having a limb severed. Alyssa had nearly drained him to get him here, and that hadn’t been pleasant, either. So the thought of being bitten again should have disgusted him. Except…

  He didn’t want Alyssa to stop. He wanted some part of her inside him, taking nourishment, living because he gave her life.

  What was happening to his mind, his desires?

  She nibbled harder. “Are you?”

  “Am I what?” He had forgotten the question, was too busy arching up to meet her mouth.

  “Who are you thinking of, Shivawn? What woman’s image is in your mind when I do this?” She licked her way down, not stopping until she reached his navel.

  His length craved her mouth. Hot, tight, wet. Pumping in and out. Perhaps even biting.

  “Tell me, and I’ll be gentle with you,” she whispered before blowing a warm puff on the moisture her tongue had left behind.

  “You,” he replied honestly. “I see you.” And he did. Waves of heat pulsed from her and infused his skin. Her silky hair tickled his chest, and he liked it. Wanted more.

  Her fingers curled around his shaft a
nd squeezed. His hips surged up, a groan splitting his lips. Where had this tigress come from? Mostly she had been as still as a statue last time. At first he’d thought he wasn’t pleasing her. Then he’d realized she was savoring every touch, every sound. He’d been charmed, despite his body’s refusal to cooperate.

  He tried to lift his arm to fist her hair, force a kiss, but the chains rattled and pulled tight. “Release me.”

  “Of course.” She released him—just not the way he desired. His erection was suddenly free, hard and aching on his belly. Satisfied she had his attention, she continued, “You don’t give the orders here.”

  She probably meant the words to sound harsh and commanding. She sounded breathless.

  “Then touch me again. That’s why I’m here, isn’t it?”

  Before she could reply, he cracked his eyelids open. He did not focus on her entire face, but on one feature at a time, trying to figure this out. He saw the tip of her tongue emerge, darting over her lush lips. The sight was amazingly erotic, and rather than losing his erection, his arousal was ratcheted another degree. Her lips weren’t the problem, then. He watched her wrinkle her nose. Again, his arousal remained. He gazed into her eyes. The screams returned.

  Her eyes, then. What about them transported him back to that bloody field?

  She peered down at him, hair hanging over her shoulders like damp velvet. Her eyelids were at half-mast, her expression soft and luminous. Needy as he now was, the screams were a nuisance rather than a hindrance.

  “Touch me,” he commanded her again, but there was a plea to the words. He flattened his palms against the cool rocks beneath him.

  “Not yet.” She reached up and tugged at the shoulder strap of her robe. The sapphire material floated to her stomach, revealing full, proud breasts with sweet, dusky nipples.

  His mouth watered as though he were starving and had just been offered a banquet. “Release me.” He could barely work the words past his thickening throat. “I want to touch you.”

  Her eyes flashed with fire. “You’re lying again.”