The Nymph King a-3

by Gena Showalter

  A bundle of material was shoved over her head, surprising her. "Why are you doing this?" she demanded, quickly pulling it down. It was a robe, soft and sheer but a covering nonetheless.

  "It is the will of the gods," was the calm reply. "Stand. Keep your arms to your side."

  She inched from the bed as quietly as possible, hoping they wouldn't sense her exact location. The door was to the left, and she inched one step, then two. Then she broke into a full run. Strong arms anchored around her before she reached the curtain, bringing her to a dead stop.

  "Damn you," she muttered, flailing. "Let me go."

  "Woman, I warned you."

  Knowing he meant to knock her out, Shaye increased her struggles. She slashed with her nails, tugged her captor's hair, and punched him in the stomach. "I'm going to pray your gods curse you!"

  "They already have." A heavy sigh. "I'm sorry to do this, but you've given me no choice."

  Someone muttered a series of unintelligible words and a wave of lethargy swept through her. Her eyelids drifted shut, so heavy she could not hold them open. Sleep called to her, as alluring as any nymph. Help, she tried to scream, knowing that to fall asleep was to be taken from Valerian. She needed more time with him.

  Sleep... sleep... no. She shook her head. Scream. She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. And still sleep called to her, beckoning. Lulling.

  "She's a fighter," someone said in awe.

  "I've never seen the like."

  "She should have dropped by now."

  "Sleep, woman. On the morrow, you will not remember any of this."

  Strength abandoned her limbs, slowly, quickly. She wasn't sure. Time ceased to exist. Utter darkness crept gnarled fingers inside her mind. Fight... fight... fi...

  She knew nothing else.

  CHAPTER 27

  WITH THE NIGHT'S activities complete and morning fast approaching, the palace fortified, his guests seen to, Valerian raced back to his bedroom. Urgency filled him. He wanted Shaye again. He hungered for her. The more time he spent with her, the more he needed her. The more time he spent without her, the more he needed her.

  He just needed her.

  And he sensed that she needed him. A moment ago, he'd heard her voice in his mind, calling out to him. He quickened his pace, speeding through the hallway, through the curtain blocking him from his room. He'd strip, then crawl into bed beside Shaye and awaken her with his mouth between her legs. She'd scream his name, the sound echoing between—

  He stopped abruptly. He stood at the edge of the bed, golden rays of light streaming over its emptiness. Only rumpled sheets remained. "Shaye," he called.

  When silence greeted him, he spun, searching. She had not been in the bathing pool; he would have seen her when he passed. "Shaye?"

  Again, only silence. Thick, frightening silence. Where had she gone? He didn't want her roaming the halls alone. He wanted nothing taken for granted where Shaye's safety was concerned. He didn't allow himself to panic—yet. Her scent covered the walls, permeating his senses. But there was another scent... his nose crinkled and he frowned, hoping he simply smelled the ones who'd lived here before him.

  He stepped into the bathing room, then into the hallway. For twenty minutes he searched the main areas: the dining hall—receiving curious glances—the training room, the weapons room in case she'd gotten lost. He'd been remiss in his duty toward her. He should have taught her the layout of the palace.

  Everyone he encountered, he demanded to know if they'd seen her. No one had. In fact, several warriors were looking for their women, as well.

  "I cannot find Brenna," Joachim said, worry thick in his voice.

  So, Joachim had taken Brenna from Shivawn—or maybe Shivawn had given her to the man. Valerian didn't know and at the moment he didn't care. All that mattered was Shaye.

  "I cannot find my bed partner," another said.

  "I cannot find mine." Still another.

  Hearing this, Valerian finally allowed his panic free rein. He sprinted to the cave. Surely Shaye hadn't left him, hadn't led all the women into the portal. She'd promised to stay. She'd told him she desired time with him. She had been so close to giving him her love. Had she changed her mind?

  Had she lied?

  Sweat trickled from his skin. Tension thrummed and pulsed. What if she had tricked him? Had gained his trust so he would leave her alone, without a guard, so she could gather the other humans and—

  No, he told himself. No. She would not have left him willingly. She hadn't lied. Last time he'd seen her, she'd worn a soft, sated expression. Vulnerability had glinted in her eyes as she vowed to trust him. She'd said she craved fidelity from him and those were not the words of a woman intent on leaving.

  He pounded his fist into the wall. When he'd held her in his arms, there had been truth between them.

  That meant only one thing. She had to have been taken. But where? And by whom? He'd smelled dragon in his room. Had his enemy returned more quickly than he'd anticipated? If so, why had they taken the women and not killed a single nymph?

  Damn this! What in Hades had happened? He swung around and backtracked to the top floor, leaving the coldness of the cave behind. He ran into Broderick.

  "Where are the women?" Broderick asked. "I am in need of a lover."

  "They have been taken. It happened within the last few hours, so there is a good chance they are still here. Keep searching." Yet there was nowhere else to look and he knew it. He'd been through the palace top to bottom.

  He stalked into the dining hall. Layel still sat at the table, staring into emptiness, sadness consuming his features. Valerian's teeth ground together. If the women had been taken out of the palace and into the Outer City... It was not a place for unarmed females. Demons would eat anything, for they survived on fear and carnage. They would view the women as succulent treats.

  "Layel," he said. He did not think the vampire or his people responsible. Blood would have stained the floor, the beds, something. "I need your help."

  His friend jolted upright. "It is yours."

  "Can you and your people withstand the light?"

  "Most of us."

  "You can scent humans as no one else. Take your vampires through the forest and into the city and search for our women. Someone has taken them."

  In a movement so fluid it was almost undetectable, Layel stood. "I will do as you've asked. Do you stay or do you go?"

  Valerian didn't know what to do. If he stayed and Shaye was in the city, she would not know Layel and would fight him, perhaps getting hurt in the process. But if Valerian left, and she was still inside the palace, perhaps being hidden and held against her will, he would never forgive himself for leaving her.

  Indecision and frustration ate at him. Fear and hope slicked through him. Go? Stay? "I will go," he finally said. "Ready your men."

  Layel nodded and rushed off.

  Valerian raced into his room and gathered the dragon medallion he'd tossed aside when making love with Shaye. He stuffed it in his pocket before hunting down Broderick, who had a small contingent of armed warriors stomping through every room, questioning other nymphs and vampires. "I am going into the city. Send a messenger if they are found... whatever you find," he added starkly.

  Broderick nodded.

  Alone, Valerian dropped to his knees and prayed. For the first time in his life, he prayed. He beseeched the gods, begging them to surround Shaye in a hedge of protection, to bring her back to him, healthy and whole. "I will trade my own life for her. Gladly," he said to the heavens.

  Still torn apart inside, still raw and frantic, he stood and raced outside. The vampires possessed an unnatural speed. They would move much faster without him, and as much as he wanted to reach Shaye first, he would not hinder them.

  At the outer gates, the vampires gathered, preparing for the search. "Do not let me slow you down," he told Layel. "Move as quickly as you can, and I will make my own way. Gather any human females you find."

  Lay
el's eyes glowed bright, vivid blue. "We will find her, Valerian."

  Valerian turned away before he broke down, just fell to his knees and sobbed. Loss was not new to him, but this loss would kill him. "Go." The single word was hoarse, scratching his burning throat. "Go."

  The vampires leapt into action; one moment they were there, the next moment they weren't. Valerian entered the stable and mounted the same centaur that had taken Shaye and him to the city only a day ago. They raced around trees and quicksand, as he continually shouted Shaye's name. Pausing, listening for any sign of her.

  She was not in the forest.

  She was not in the Outer City, either. None of the humans were. He spent all day looking, until dusk fell once again. Seething emotions pulsed through him. Fear. So much fear. Where was she? She was not... dead. He could barely even think the hated word. He would feel it. As her mate, he would know. Just as he'd known when his twin had died, all those years ago. Wouldn't he?

  He left Layel and his army in the city with instructions to continue the hunt, then he returned to the palace. When he reached the gates, he dismounted and ran inside without a word. As he ran, he withdrew the dragon medallion from his pocket. The crystal door split apart and closed behind him.

  The palace was eerily silent, none of his men anywhere to be seen. "Broderick," he called. "Joachim. Shivawn." He ground to a halt. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, and he encountered the same faint scent he'd smelled in his room. He quickly withdrew his sword from the sheath at his side.

  "Your men are otherwise occupied," a voice said above him.

  A dragon voice. Darius's voice.

  Lips thinning in a fierce scowl, Valerian looked up. There, circling him from the second floor, was the entire dragon army. "What did you do with my woman?"

  "We sent her home, nymph. We sent her home."

  CHAPTER 28

  "WAKE UP, SHAYE." Shake. "Wake up."

  Shaye heard the voice from a long, dark tunnel. Yes, she thought. Must. Wake. Up. Trouble was nearby. Trouble for her, for Valerian. Gradually consciousness worked through her mind, chasing away the darkness.

  "Wake up."

  Slowly she cracked open her eyelids. Sunlight glared down at her and orange-gold spots danced before her vision. Dry cotton filled her mouth. Sand and salt coated her entire body. Her clothes were stiff, as if they'd soaked and dried right on her. The sound of lulling waves greeted her ears, soothing, familiar. Yet... wrong. The smells weren't right, either. Yes, she smelled salt, but not orchids. Not Valerian.

  "Valerian," she said. Her throat felt raw, scratchy. "Valerian."

  "No. It's me."

  Her attention veered to the speaker. Her... "Mom?" She rubbed at her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

  "I've been haunting the beach since you were taken. Are you—" her mother gulped "—okay? Did they hurt you?"

  "I'm fine." From the corner of her eye, she saw Kathleen pass her, dark hair hanging in tangles around her sandy face. "What's going on?" Shaye demanded of her.

  "We were brought back to the surface," she said, never slowing.

  Brought back... Understanding clicked. Yes. The dragons had invaded Valerian's room, had threatened to take her to the surface, then rendered her unconscious. She shoved to her feet. Her equilibrium was off balance, and she swayed. Her mom wrapped an arm around her waist.

  "Are you sure you're okay?"

  "Yes. I'll be fine," Shaye said, massaging her temples to ward off the dizziness. When the world righted itself, she catalogued her surroundings. White-gold sand stretched as far as the eyes could see. Waves crested to the beach, leaving sea foam in their wake. The sun shone brightly, no hint of crystal.

  There was a group of scuba-clad men sitting nearby, reminiscent of the time Valerian came to the surface. They were gazing around the beach in confusion.

  "I wasn't here when they arrived," her mom explained, realizing the direction of her gaze. "But I questioned them when they awoke. They can't recall their names, why they're here, or even how they got here."

  Had the dragons wiped their memories, too? Sleep, woman, they'd told her. On the morrow, you will not remember any of this. But she did remember. Everything. Kathleen, too, had seemed to remember.

  "There's even a boat docked over there." Her mom pointed to the right. "The men inside don't know anything, either, but I saw the initials OBI on some papers, whatever that means."

  "I still don't understand why you're here," Shaye said, pinning her with a frown.

  Tamara's expression became tortured. "After you disappeared, the police arrived at the tent. They didn't believe us when we told them what had happened. They laughed at us, said you girls had probably gotten bored and taken off. All I could think was that you were gone, I'd never see you again, and the last words between us had been harsh."

  "I—" didn't know what to say, Shaye realized. Her mother had never shown her such a vulnerable, repentant side.

  "I haven't been the best mother. I know that," the distressed woman rushed on. "And I know things will probably never be comfortable between us. I'm just glad you're okay."

  Tears burned Shaye's eyes as she wrapped her arms around her mom. "Thank you for that." She'd wanted closure, and she'd gotten it.

  Tamara hugged her back, expelling a shaky breath.

  "So you're happy?" Shaye asked her.

  "Yes." Her mom drew back and wiped at her own tears with the back of her wrist. "I think Conner truly is the love of my life, and Preston seems to like me. They're at opposite ends of the beach, passing out fliers with your picture and asking if anyone's seen you."

  Wow. For the first time in her life, Shaye felt like she had an actual family. An honest-to-God family. But... "I have to go back, Mom." She wanted—needed—Valerian. He probably thought she'd left him on purpose. If he wasn't—No! She wouldn't think of him as dead. He was strong, the strongest man she'd ever encountered. He would have gathered his army and defeated the dragons.

  "I have to go back," she repeated.

  "Go back where, exactly?"

  She didn't have time to explain. "Just... find Conner and Preston and tell them I'm okay. Tell Preston I'm sorry for the way I acted at the wedding. I'll return if I can. If not, know that I'm happy and that I've found the man of my dreams, too."

  "But—"

  "Trust me. Please." Shaye gave her mom one last hug and moved toward the water. All around her, women in Atlantean robes were awakening. Any beachgoers probably assumed they'd come from a costume party, and had drunk and swum afterward.

  "Are you going back?" Kathleen asked, suddenly at her side.

  "Yes."

  "I want to go with you."

  The whole world could come if they wanted. She didn't care, as long as she could go back herself. She loved Valerian. There, she'd admitted it. She did. She loved him with all of her heart, a heart she'd once thought too cold to care for anyone. But she couldn't deny her feelings any longer.

  Fear had made her do so, she realized that now. When faced with the choice to live without Valerian... there was no greater fear than that. He loved her, too. She wouldn't doubt him any longer. He loved her for exactly who she was; he didn't want her to change.

  Water lapped at her ankles, sand squished between her toes. Rising, rising, the cool liquid soon hit her calves, her thighs. If those dragons hurt her man in any way, she'd hunt them down and destroy them.

  She swam as far as she could, all the women with her, then dove under the water. When she didn't see the portal, she came back up for air. Hours passed, but they didn't give up their search. Shaye's body tired, her lungs burned.

  "Why are we doing this?" Kathleen panted as she treaded water beside her. "I... I can't remember."

  "Atlantis." Shaye swallowed a mouthful of salty liquid. "The nymphs."

  "The who?" Kathleen's face scrunched in confusion. So did everyone else's—except Brenna's. She possessed an aura of determination, just like Shaye.

  "I hat
e to swim," one of the women said. "I'm going home."

  "Me, too."

  "This is stupid."

  "I don't even know how I got here. Wasn't I at a wedding?" On and on they muttered as they swam back to the beach.

  They were forgetting, just as the dragons had promised, and Shaye was suddenly afraid of the same happening to herself. Already Valerian's face was blurred in her mind. "I won't forget," she said between labored breaths.

  "We have to get back," Brenna wheezed.

  They swam under and up for an hour longer. By then Shaye was shaking with fatigue. Tears streamed down her cheeks, tears of frustration and fury. If she didn't go back to shore, she would drown here. Brenna, too. The need to get back to... what was his name?

  I will not forget. Valerian. Yes! That was it. His name was Valerian, and she loved him. "One more dive," she told Brenna.

  Brenna was gasping for breath, but she nodded. "Need. Joachim."

  If they failed to find the portal this time, they would swim back to shore and try again tomorrow. Try every day until they succeeded. When Shaye went under, the salt stung her eyes. But she pushed herself farther than ever before, Brenna at her side.

  The ocean's bottom remained out of sight.

  Shaye's arms and legs shook violently. Fish brushed against her. Damn this, she mentally cried. Brenna stopped moving, her hands and feet stilling, and Shaye grabbed on to her. She switched directions, angling upward. But it was too late. She'd pushed herself too far and didn't have the strength to swim the rest of the way up.

  At first she panicked, flailing, opening her mouth, desperate to fill her burning lungs with oxygen. She swallowed more water instead. Still she retained a grip on her friend, trying to get them both to the top.

  A strange blackness, thicker than any other darkness she'd ever encountered, began to weave through her mind. Then a flash of light sparked in her line of vision. A bubble floated in front of her, growing, growing, until it completely surrounded her and Brenna.

  She spit out a mouthful of water and gasped for breath. Miraculously, she sucked in actual air. Wet hair clung to her face, but she didn't brush it aside. Couldn't. Was she dreaming? Dead? She dropped to her knees in front of Brenna, who lay unconscious. She'd never performed CPR, but she'd seen it done and mimicked the motions.