The Vampire's Bride a-4

by Gena Showalter

  He didn't slow. Using his teeth to rip out their jugulars would work just as well. Still, a few weapons would have been nice. Just in case. No matter, though.

  Almost upon them…almost…he slammed into an invisible barrier.

  Every bone in his body vibrated from the impact, and that cursed dizziness again swept through him. He blinked in confusion, lifted his arms and pressed at the air. What in Hades? There was some sort of…shield?

  Yes, yes, he realized. That's exactly what it was. Clear, unseen, and yet solid, preventing him from moving another inch. He banged his fists against it, but it held steady. He clawed at it, but it did not crack. No, it snapped two of his nails from their beds, causing blood to flow down his hands. He rammed his shoulder into it, nearly dislocating the bone, but the shield did not even shake.

  Damn this! He would not be denied. Would lose a limb if necessary. What did physical pain matter when faced with such a delightful outcome? As he threw his body against the barrier over and over again, he glared at his still-sleeping enemies. Never had a time been more ripe for vengeance. Soon…

  Next to the dragons were two Amazons, one of whom happened to be his bloodthirsty, blue-haired wench. Not mine, he corrected instantly, fervently. But he couldn't deny the sight of her caused his breath to heat and singe his lungs. Couldn't deny his blood quickened.

  As he'd fallen through that dark void, he'd heard her raspy voice and had grabbed on to her limp body. She'd been warm and soft, a torment to him. And yet, he'd been oddly protective of her, cradling her against him, marveling at her sea-kissed scent as he recalled the way she'd looked at him on the battlefield, as if he were a miracle and a devil wrapped in the same tempting package.

  He didn't recall letting go of her, yet they had clearly been parted. Now, he drank her in when he should have looked away.

  She appeared rumpled, as if she'd fallen asleep after a vigorous hour of lovemaking and had only now awakened for more. Her eyes were slightly uptilted, the lids at half-mast and shadowed by long dark lashes. Her nose was small and dainty, her lips still red and lush. And her skin…more was revealed, smooth, amber-rich, each pulse point hammering deliciously. A large bruise covered the left side of her jaw. Her breasts—

  Do not think of her like that, you disgusting pile of dragon droppings. Females were off-limits to him.

  Layel tore his gaze from the Amazon and renewed his study of the other creatures, only then realizing he'd stopped pounding at the air shield. All were beginning to stir, sitting up and rubbing their faces. He might not be able to reach them—yet—but he could hear them. Moaning soon overshadowed the hum of the waves.

  There were two nymphs, a male and a female, pushing to a stand and staring at the beach of creatures in confusion. Around them were one pair each of minotaurs, demons, centaurs, formorians and gorgons, the snakes atop the latter's heads hissing and baring fangs much sharper than Layel's. Two of each race. Why two?

  What in Hades is going on? he wondered yet again.

  The Amazon scrubbed a hand over her delicate face, barely painted now with the remnants of swirling blue designs. Those designs etched onto her temples didn't smear. Were they tattoos? She was blinking, as though she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

  You're looking at her again. He growled and returned his attention to the dragons, his rage intensifying. He shoved at the invisible wall. Still there, still unyielding. His fingers were bloodied and tattered now, nearly useless. His shoulder was completely out of its joint.

  He needed to think, to plan. More than that, he needed to find shade. What skin was bared now felt as if it were blistered. Probably was. Hating the thought of retreat, hating himself, he edged backward, trying not to draw unwanted attention as he stopped beside Zane and crouched, gripping the vampire's shoulders and shaking.

  Zane's eyelids popped open and he hissed, swinging a claw in reflex. Quick as a heartbeat, Layel bowed his back, managing to evade a fatal slice to the throat. "Calm," he commanded quietly.

  Seconds passed as the vampire oriented himself. "What happened?" Zane demanded roughly, on his feet a moment later. The consummate warrior, he braced his legs apart as his hands fisted at his sides, prepared to initiate battle. His eyes were dark, flat, and he looked hungry for blood. Like Layel's, his skin was red, beginning to blister.

  "I'm not sure." Layel rose and motioned to the others with a tilt of his chin. "One moment we were fighting, the next we were not."

  "What is this place?" Zane's gaze circled the surrounding area. "Why do I feel as though I'm on fire?" He patted himself down, snarled. "And where are my weapons?"

  Something Susan had said long ago, after they'd made love out in the open, under Atlantis's sparkling dome, suddenly drifted through Layel's mind. His mouth fell open in astonishment. I wish we could travel to the world of my people. Just for a little while. With all the stories my family used to tell me, I think we would love it.

  He'd held her tighter, afraid she'd somehow slip through his fingers. Tell me about it.

  She had, in great detail, as if she'd already visited it in her dreams. A seemingly never-ending expanse of blue—sky. Fat, puffy white masses—clouds. A glowing orange ball—the sun.

  "I think…I think we are on the surface world." How? Why? "I know we could tolerate the daylight under the dome, but the sun's light must be stronger. Harsher. And the weapons? Vanished."

  "Surface?" Zane's mouth fell open in a mirror of Layel's expression.

  "We must find shade. Now."

  "Our battle—"

  "Can wait."

  Together they backed up, neither willing to give the other creatures their backs, shield or not, and moved into the thicket of trees. Instantly Layel's body cooled.

  He sighed. "We will remain in the forest until we figure out what's going on." Even if that meant avoiding the dragons. Right now they seemed to have the advantage, the sun caressing them like lovers rather than hated foes.

  "We should make new weapons," Zane said.

  "Yes." But he didn't move another inch. Could barely form a coherent thought. The blue-haired Amazon had just popped to a stand, her eyes wild. She reached for something at her waist—probably a blade—found nothing, and scowled. Like him, like Zane, she patted herself down. Also like the both of them, she found herself completely unarmed.

  Someone had taken all their weapons.

  He watched as she spun in a circle, studying, gaping. When she spotted the other Amazon, she rushed forward.

  "Nola!" she cried, so loudly Layel had no trouble hearing her from his new sanctuary. She bent down, locks of silky hair tumbling over her shoulders, and shook her sister.

  The dark-haired female moaned and rubbed at her forehead, eyelids cracking open. "Delilah?"

  Delilah. The name played through his mind. Delilah…Delilah…soft, feminine, exotic. A name that bespoke midnight fantasies and insatiable passion. A name that could send the strongest of men to their knees. When the thought registered, Layel stiffened. I will never speak that name aloud, he vowed. Too…dangerous.

  "I'm here," the woman in question said. "Right here."

  The one called Nola massaged her temples, her lips pulled in a tight, pained frown. "What happened?"

  No doubt it was a question everyone on the beach would ask.

  "I wish I knew." Delilah looked left and right, searching again, gauging, and then she was staring over at Layel, the shadows nothing to her.

  The force of that violet gaze jolted him. Made his muscles jump. For a moment, he was light-headed again and there was a pain in his chest, exactly where his heart resided, as though it were once again healthy and whole. How was she doing this?

  Apparently he wasn't the only one suffering a strange response. The Amazon's pulse pounded in her neck—he couldn't see it, but he could sense it, hear it—every erratic beat like a summoning finger. His mouth watered, preparing to feast even though he had gorged himself during battle. When he sank his teeth into that woman he woul
d…His jaw clenched painfully. What are you doing? You will never taste her. Since Susan's death, the only blood he allowed himself was the blood of his enemies. And the supply was vast. He was never without, didn't need to take from anyone else.

  Who was this Amazon, that she was able to tempt him to forget? She was lovely, yes, but she wasn't Susan. Would never be his sweet, gentle Susan. And he would not defile his love's memory with fanciful thoughts of another.

  Delilah pounded toward him. "Who did this to us? How were we brought here? Do you know?"

  Layel ignored her. Her raspy voice was as seductive as her body and he'd already made the mistake of softening toward her several times. He would not do so again. Being polite to her would encourage familiarity between them when he craved only distance.

  "Vampire."

  He turned his face away from her, wondering how she'd breached the invisible wall. Do not even think of her. All of the creatures had risen and were now pairing off, growling and hissing at their enemies, though none could seem to get within striking distance. Unlike Delilah, they were met with the same obstruction he had encountered.

  "Demons," Zane suddenly spat. He marched forward, his intent to slaughter evident with every step, their agreement to remain in the shade obviously forgotten. When he, too, hit the clear barrier, he paused and shook his head. Banged his fist against it once, twice. Paused again. Screeched an unholy sound of frustration. A second later, he attacked the air with a vengeance, screaming curses and promises of brutality all the while, oblivious to the cruel sun.

  Layel didn't even try to rein in the vampire's rage. They had been together only a few months, and in that time he had learned that Zane could not be subdued until exhaustion gripped him. The male had spent centuries as a demon queen's consort—willing or unwilling, Layel didn't know. He only knew the experience had left the warrior wild, uncontrollable, and so volatile Layel only utilized him during battle.

  There was no better killer than Zane.

  Layel waited until the warrior's actions slowed and his screams quieted. An eternity, surely. He strode to him, away from the Amazon, and placed a warning hand on one of Zane's tense shoulders.

  Panting, the vampire whipped to face him, fangs bared to bite. Zane stopped himself in time, and Layel withdrew his hand, his point made.

  "For some reason, we cannot hurt them." Yet. "You must remain calm."

  "I want those demons on a pike," the warrior snarled.

  "And I want the dragons' heads to roll."

  Silence enveloped them as they stared at each other in understanding. Their enemies might be different, but their pain was not. Layel only wished he knew what had been done to the warrior.

  Finally Zane nodded. But a muscle ticked below his left eye, contradicting the easy acceptance. "What should we do?"

  "We shall learn the layout of this land." Maybe they would find the perfect place to ambush the others. If the invisible wall did not stop them again. "Maybe as we do so, we will learn the reason we were brought here."

  "Where are my weapons?" Brand suddenly shouted, drawing Layel's attention. The dragon soldier was searching the sand for his blades, grains flying in every direction. "Tell me or I will burn this—"

  "Mine are missing, as well," Tagart growled. His side no longer bled. Unfortunately, he'd already healed.

  "Look!" someone said, their shock cutting through the commotion.

  "Is that…Can it be…?"

  Intrigued, Layel twisted. He found himself peering at a large crystal dome several miles away, which stretched above the rolling waves and momentarily blighted the luminous rainbow that glittered at the water's edges.

  Atlantis, he realized, dread curling his stomach. How was that possible? It lay far beneath the surface world. But he was looking right at it, standing on land he'd only ever heard stories about. Wasn't he?

  Could their hidden world be tiered, with layers he had not known about? Could he still be inside Atlantis, just in another part? If so, there would be a way home. He had only to find it. Perhaps the same way he'd gotten here—the tunnel that had tugged him down, down, down.

  How had he stumbled upon the tunnel, though? A god? They were certainly powerful enough to create such a transport, moving more than a dozen creatures from one location to another in seconds, stealing their weapons and erecting a shield to prevent them from killing one another.

  Could it be?

  The gods were not something he usually considered. They had neglected the Atlanteans for thousands of years, only returning a few months ago. Or so he had heard. He himself had yet to encounter one. What possible reason could they have for whisking two of every race to this island?

  Unable to stop himself, he stood helpless as his gaze once more sought the Amazon. She was still watching him, those inviting lips pursed as if she was lost in thought, trying to decide on the best course of action. A tendril of hair caressed her cheek, and he found himself wondering if her skin was as soft as he remembered. Found himself jealous that his fingers were not what caressed her.

  Oh, no. No, no, no. There would be none of that, he reminded himself, determined to repeat the mantra as many times as necessary. His eyelids narrowed to tiny slits, and the spark of hatred he'd felt earlier grew. Intensified. Perhaps it was best that his weapons had been taken from him. He might have killed the Amazon right then for daring to claim desires that belonged only to Susan.

  "Should we swim out?" one of the gorgons asked the crowd.

  A debate arose.

  "Come," Layel told Zane. He ignored the sense of loss that assaulted him as he once again pivoted. Swimming, he was confident, would prove pointless. Someone powerful wanted them here, so here they would remain. "We have weapons to make."

  Sweat glistened on the other vampire's face as he nodded. "I cannot relax until I have blades in my hands."

  They moved deeper into the thicket, the dewy foliage about to wrap around them completely. "We will—" Layel hit another invisible wall and cursed.

  Snarling, Zane kicked out his leg. "No one should be able to hold us like this."

  "Trapped," someone said behind them. "The forest is blocked."

  "What should we do?" another demanded. A female.

  Layel twisted, saw the two nymphs had followed him, and scrubbed a hand down his face. Valerian, the nymph king, was his only true friend, the man's followers his allies. These two were more beautiful than most, both boasting pale hair and vivid blue eyes. Features so pure and perfect they far surpassed the radiance of the sun.

  "Broderick," he acknowledged with a nod. "Why aren't you trying to swim back to Atlantis?"

  "Several reasons. The first is that I'm not convinced it will do us any good—and I'd just as soon stay warm and dry if that's the case. The second is that I trust you more than I trust any of the other creatures here. Where you go, my sister and I will go. Have you any idea what's going on?"

  "All I know is that our way is being blocked, which must mean we are not to leave the beach. Perhaps if we return, whoever has done this to us will finally reveal himself." Bastard.

  "We can hope." Walking back, side by side, Broderick said, "Word is you were battling dragons again."

  "Yes."

  "Win?"

  "Not yet." But he would.

  "They are not bad men." Valerian had recently allied himself with the dragons to save his mate. Layel had understood the need for such a union, even if he despised it with all of his being. He would have done no less for Susan. "They are respectful of our women, aid us in our defense of our palace, never strike at us in spite. They—"

  "Are not up for discussion." Having reached the edge of the trees, Layel was careful to remain in the shade. He studied the creatures anew. They were divided, whispering in their groups of two.

  Or maybe not so divided after all. "There's only one other avenue of escape. Who's with me?" The proclamation came from Brand as he stalked toward the water. The others were quick to follow him.

  A moment
later, there was a splash, then another and another. Every creature save Layel, Zane and the two nymphs entered, swimming for the dome. Even Delilah. Her head bobbed up and down with the waves.

  He gritted his teeth. You must stop seeking her out.

  "Should we follow them?" Zane asked.

  "They'll return," he replied confidently. "There are powers at work. Strange powers, strong powers. As I said, we are clearly wanted here. There will be no escaping."

  He watched as arms and legs peeked above the water, some scaled, some lined with horns, some humanlike. Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty, thirty. No one gained any distance. No matter how hard they fought the ocean, they remained a few feet from the beach.

  One by one, they gave up and crawled to shore, exhausted and panting. Delilah was the last to exit, which spoke volumes about her character. Strong, determined, unwilling to admit defeat.

  He should not admire her for that.

  She was scowling as her gaze latched on to his. She lumbered into a march, her expression darkening the closer she came. All of her war paint had washed away, revealing golden skin tattooed with intricate designs the same luscious shade as her cerulean locks, swirling around her face, upper arms, waist and thighs.

  What little clothing she wore clung to her curves.

  Soaked tendrils of hair were plastered to her, dripping liquid down her stomach and thighs. His gaze followed several droplets, and his blood heated as if he were baking in the sunlight again. Oh, to lick them up…

  Zane tensed and stepped in front of him. "Enemy approaching."

  "Let her come." If she could. Would the air shield stop her this time?

  Curious, Layel kept his hands clenched at his sides. Part of him hoped she would be allowed to reach him. He had tried to ignore the sensual power she wielded, the awareness that sizzled every time he looked at her. He had tried, and he had failed. It was past time the madness ended. Susan deserved better from him. And there was only one way he could think of that would halt his new desires permanently. Death.

  As he was not yet ready to die, that left one option. Killing the Amazon. He would not be upset about it, would not miss her. He didn't even know her.