The Nymph King

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The Nymph King Page 5

by Gena Showalter


  He kept moving, sinking deeper and deeper into the water.

  "Idiot! What are you doing? You're going to drown me."

  "I will never allow harm to befall you, little moonbeam." Still, he continued into the water. The other women followed merrily, each wearing a giddy smile. As if frolicking to their deaths was perfectly acceptable. Even fun.

  Wait. No, not every woman followed happily. The one with dark curls was fighting her captor, struggling for freedom.

  Shaye's heart pounded in her chest, an erratic drumbeat. A war beat. "You're going to kill us all, you overgrown G.I. Joe. You're going--umph." She swallowed a mouthful of salty water, and the next thing she knew, she was completely submerged. Her eyes burned. Her throat constricted. Hair floated around her face like strands of ivory ribbon.

  The idiot man kept his strong arms locked around her, one at the bend of her knees, one at the small of her back. His palms were hot, so hot, a startling contrast against the chilly liquid. Silver-white hair continued to dance around her. Colorful fish swam past her line of vision. She wanted to scream. Oh, how she wanted to scream. But every time she opened her mouth, she swallowed more water.

  Deeper, deeper he sank. She needed to breathe, damn it! Any minute her lungs were going to burst. Valerian was insane. A drowning murderer on a suicide mission.

  She fought against his hold with all her strength, kicking, beating, scratching. Finally the ocean became so deep he couldn't remain upright. They tilted forward, and he began using his powerful legs to swim them even deeper. Deeper still.

  I'm going to die, she realized. Truly die. Terror beat through her. Already her lungs shrieked for air. There were so many things she wanted to do, and dying wasn't one of them. She wanted to write a book, maybe a sappy romance where the heroine experienced the love Shaye had always denied herself. She wanted to get another tattoo, maybe a pretty flower this time. Her first tattoo, a skull and crossbones on her lower back, was something she'd gotten in an attempt to make her parents notice her.

  Her mom had definitely noticed and still mailed her tattoo-removal coupons every few weeks. The coupons amused her, actually made her feel liked--if not loved.

  Another thought tried to form, but her mind blanked, cutting it off and becoming as dark as the water. Breathe, she mentally shouted. Breathe before you pass out.

  Suddenly the water cleared, so glassy she could see as perfectly as if she were on land. Even the salt dissipated, soothing her irritated eyes. Valerian tugged her forward until they were eye-to-eye. Automatically she tried to push herself away from him, but he held tight.

  Maybe that was for the best. She didn't want to lose her single connection with life. And right now, Valerian was her only solid anchor--psychotic though he was.

  Yes, at the moment he was both destroyer and savior.

  "Breathe," she mouthed. Her body verged on spasming, on forcing her to attempt to suck in air. No matter that water still surrounded her.

  "Soon," he, too, mouthed. He motioned with his head, and she squelched her panic enough to turn and look. Her eyes widened when she saw the swirling, gelatinous whirlpool looming ahead. What the hell was that thing? And why was Valerian swimming straight into it?

  Had to...stop him. With a shaky arm, she reached out to block his forward momentum. Her fingertip brushed the whirlpool. Instantly the aquatic world crumbled into dark nothingness, an abyss welcoming her with open arms. A thousand screams ripped through her ears, violent, intense. Needles jabbed at her every pore, the pain nearly too much to bear.

  A stream of bright light erupted and whizzed past her, then disappeared altogether. Wind gusted, spinning her round and round. Where was Valerian? He, too, had disappeared. Dizziness consumed her as she continued to twirl. Alone. Frightened. No end in sight.

  Falling...falling...

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "I'VE GOT YOU, MOON."

  Strong arms wrapped around Shaye's waist, and she gratefully buried her face in the hollow of Valerian's neck. In that moment she didn't care who was holding her, she was simply happy that someone was. She even wrapped her legs around his waist, strengthening her grip on him. She could finally breathe, she just couldn't stop falling.

  "Don't let go," she cried.

  "Never."

  She'd never held on to anyone with such force, such need. That Valerian held on to her just as tightly was...comforting, something she'd craved for many years before convincing herself she didn't need or want such a thing. And she would believe it again--tomorrow.

  They were spinning faster and faster, left and right, tumbling toward the unknown. Nausea churned in her stomach. She didn't understand what was happening; she only knew the water had disappeared as if it had never been, leaving only this spiraling black tunnel that stretched for eternity.

  "Valerian," she panted. "What's happening?"

  "Don't worry, love. It will be over in a moment."

  Did he speak of death?

  Zipping lights once again blazed past her ears, firefly flickers extinguished all too soon and replaced by that thick, oppressive darkness. The bevy of screams increased in volume and shattered her fragile hold on calm. No. No! Her temples hammered with a sharp ache. Her blood froze, yet sweat beaded over her skin. Fear clutched her in a painful grip.

  As a little girl, her favorite fairytale had been Alice in Wonderland. Over and over she'd read about Alice falling down the rabbit hole, and had wanted to fall into that hole herself. Not now. Now that she felt like Alice, plummeting into the unfamiliar, she didn't like it.

  Alice had landed in a whole new world--and that thought scared Shaye more than never landing at all.

  "I'm not sure...how much more...I can take," she gasped out.

  Then, suddenly, Valerian hit a solid foundation. His knees bent, absorbing the impact, and the vibration trembled through her. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her up with his determined strength.

  "Take a moment to breathe." He slid her down his body inch by gradual inch. "Breathe for me, love. I don't feel your chest moving."

  In. Out. Air filled and left her lungs. In. Out. Surprisingly, she did calm. She could smell his scent, salty, sultry. Could feel his heat, his strength.

  "Good, good. But you are pale," Valerian said, a hint of concern in his voice.

  "I'm always pale," she muttered. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, she realized, slowly forcing them to open.

  They had entered a cave. She gulped. How had they entered a cave? The walls were bleak and rocky, silver stones splashed with crimson. A metallic tang layered the cold, cold air, and that cold, cold air continued to wrap around Shaye's soaked, nearly bare body, chasing away Valerian's warmth. That frigid breeze ruffled her wet skirt and hair, and she shivered.

  She slowly turned, taking in every detail. One by one, the other warriors were walking out of a clear, jellylike pool that swirled mysteriously. They were clasping as many frightened, trembling women as they could hold. Mist curled all around them and drifted to the ceiling. The entire scene was like something found in a movie. Where am I?

  Trembling, Shaye faced her captor once again. Her gaze traveled over him, starting at his booted feet, moving up his muscled legs, skipping over his male...parts to his chest. Droplets of water trickled over his tiny brown nipples, through his silver nipple ring, and pooled in his navel. He had no chest hair; not a strand dared mar his perfection. Rope after rope of tantalizing muscle banded his bronzed stomach.

  How could one person be so utterly flawless?

  Up her gaze went again, finally hitting his face. His savagely, amazingly perfect face. Perfect sandy brows, perfect crystalline eyes, perfect nose. Perfect lips, lush and pink. Of course, he now sported bruises under his eyes because she'd punched him in the nose. Even with the bruises, however, he was the most sensually erotic creature she'd ever seen. He wore confidence like a cloak; he radiated primal ferocity.

  Reaching up, he gently traced his fingertips over her forehead, nose and chin
, wiping away the water. She wanted to pull away, but couldn't summon the strength. His touch reverberated through her like a live wire. Hot. Scorching.

  "Welcome to your new home, little moonbeam." Desire coated his words--as if he had felt the sparks, as well. "Welcome to Atlantis."

  Atlantis. She blinked once, twice. Atlantis...the city buried under the ocean? Like the ocean she'd just exited? Her mouth went dry. No way. No damn way. "Please tell me you meant to say Atlanta, as in Georgia, and your accent screwed it up."

  His brow puckered. "I know not this Georgia. You heard me correctly. You have entered Atlantis, city of the gods' finest creations. Home to nymphs, vampires, demons and many others that do not bear mentioning, for they are unimportant."

  No, no, no. Hell, no. She shook her head, her mind valiantly trying to discredit such an explanation. Atlantis was a myth. It couldn't possibly be real. The creatures he'd named were also myths. They, too, couldn't possibly be real. For God's sake, vampires? Demons? In nightmares, perhaps, but not reality.

  Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.

  No, no, no, she thought again. There had to be another explanation. And yet...she could think of nothing else. She'd entered the sea, fallen into a dark tunnel, and now stood in a cave. A cave found below the water, not above it.

  Atlantis whispered across her mind. She gulped, tightening her hold on disbelief, unwilling to relinquish it even for a moment. To do so meant accepting the craziness of Valerian's claim--the claim of a deranged kidnapper.

  "So I drowned, and I'm in hell." Eyes slitted, she tilted her chin stubbornly. "Obviously, you're the devil."

  "We shall see. Men," Valerian called, a harsh growl. His penetrating stare never left her face. "Take the women and gather the rest of my army in the dining hall. The choosing will soon begin."

  With an air of eager anticipation, the warriors leapt into action. One of them tried to grab her arm, but Valerian stopped him with a feral, "I will bring this one," even as she slapped at the offender's hand.

  "As you wish, my king."

  King? King! They pounded up a coarse, wooden staircase, the women close on their heels. Most of the men were grinning and clapping each other on the back. "Who will you choose?" she heard one of them say. Another responded with a hearty, "I want the redhead. Her breasts are..." Their chatter faded away.

  A single man remained behind. Or perhaps he'd been waiting here in the cave. He wasn't wet like everyone else. He wore a white shirt with a deep V-neck that almost reached his navel and tight black pants.

  Valerian finally released her from his stare and turned to the remaining warrior. "How are the prisoners?" he asked.

  Prisoners? Shaye's eyes widened, and she clutched at her throat. Dear God.

  The man gave a brusque answer in that odd language she'd heard Valerian use earlier, but Valerian shook his head. "Speak in the human tongue."

  "Alive," the man said with a frown.

  Wait. Human tongue? What did that make Valerian's dialect? Inhuman?

  "Have they given you any trouble?" Valerian asked.

  "None at all, my king."

  "Very good. Continue to see to their needs." He waved in dismissal, scowled, then called the man back. "Has there been any word about our females?"

  "None."

  "Very well," he said, his disappointment clear. "On with you."

  The man nodded and clomped off, his boots beating into the rocky ground.

  "What prisoners?" Shaye found herself asking on a trembling breath.

  "Beasts. Killers." He turned toward her and she was once again hit by the full majesty of him. Icy air at her back, pure heat in front. "Do not fear, for they will not be allowed near you. Some are to be a present to my friend, Layel, and some are to be used to bargain."

  How ominous both plans sounded. What did the man have planned for her, then? Was she to be a present for one of his friends? Was she to be used as a bargaining tool?

  He watched her with a frighteningly possessive intensity. The water in his hair was already drying, lightening the locks to a rich, honey gold. Several of those amber strands fell over his forehead and trickled tiny, lingering droplets onto his cheeks.

  "I see the disbelief in your beautiful eyes," he said, leaning one shoulder against the jagged silver wall, "and I will do my best to prove my claim that this is Atlantis. The faster you accept the truth, the faster you will accept me."

  Before she could respond, he reached out and applied pressure to the boulder behind her. His hand brushed her bare skin, shooting those electric shocks through her blood. She twisted, seeing one of the huge rocks embedded in the wall slide backward and sink deeply. As it descended, a secret doorway revealed itself. Rocks creaked and grumbled as they parted. Inch by inch, smooth, glassy crystal was exposed.

  Her mouth fell open in an imitation of the doorway. Unbidden, her feet walked her to the edge. Water swirled behind the enclosure, and sand swayed at the sea's bottom. Pink coral and multicolored fish danced a lazy waltz. Emerald plants rose proudly.

  "That's the bottom of the ocean," she said, awed and shocked. "That's the freaking bottom of the ocean."

  "I know. I discovered this wall only a few days ago and have spent many hours down here. Breathtaking, isn't it?"

  A gentle hum echoed in her ears when she flattened her palm against the crystal. The coolness and vibrations of the water assured her this was no hallucination. My God. Atlantis. As she peered out, trying to come to grips with what she was seeing, a gorgeous, dark-haired woman swam up to the crystal. No, not a woman. Shaye's brow furrowed in shock. A mermaid. A bare-chested, tail-wagging mermaid.

  Curiosity gleamed in its--her--green eyes. She stretched out a dainty arm and placed her hand exactly where Shaye's rested. Gasping, Shaye jerked away. Shock pounded through her, and her hand fell to her side. Her mouth dried. Her knees shook. The creature frowned...until her gaze latched on Valerian. She smiled, pleasure gleaming in her eyes, and waved.

  "You know her?" Shaye managed.

  He nodded, but didn't elaborate.

  The woman...mermaid...whatever, had the face of an angel, innocent and more lovely than a long-awaited sunrise. Long black hair curled around her delicate shoulders and lush breasts. Her tail shone like spun glass, an irradiance of violets, yellows, greens and pinks, each scale a kaleidoscope of colors. Naked desire adorned her features as she stared at Valerian.

  "Do you believe me now?" he asked.

  "Yes." The admission left Shaye on a ragged breath. Part of her wanted to sink to the twig-laden floor, curl into a ball and cry. I've been abducted by an Atlantean and carted to a city under the sea. The other part of her wanted to--she didn't know what.

  Another mermaid joined the brunette, a symphony of curves and colors, pressing herself against the crystal and smiling seductively at Valerian. Passion glazed her amethyst eyes. Shaye had no doubt what the two women were thinking: three-way.

  "You said this is the home of the gods' finest creations," she said softly. Without facing him, she asked, "What kind of creature are you?" He'd already mentioned that he wasn't human.

  "I am a nymph." His tone reeked of pride. "The nymph, actually. King of my people. Leader. Warrior." He hesitated. "Lover."

  A nymph. Another so-called myth. A sexual being. Seductive. Irresistible. Able to give pleasure with a glance, a word. Beauty personified. Valerian fit the description perfectly, and that frightened her so much more than if he'd said he was a soul-sucking demon from the deepest depths of hell.

  "I thought nymphs were..." Obsessed with sex--check. Continuously naked--close. Willing to sleep with anything that moved--probably. "Female," she ended lamely.

  He snorted and stepped closer to her. "There are females, yes, but mostly we are males."

  God, she had to get out of there. His nearness disturbed her sense of peace and reduced her to a trembling, sex-starved hormone. Already her nipples had hardened. Her stomach quivered. "Take me home, Valerian. I don't belong here."

&nb
sp; He didn't reply. The wall began to close, gradually shutting out the view of water, gradually shutting out the now infuriated mermaids banging on the crystal. Shaye covered her mouth with a shaky hand. "Please take me home."

  "Love, this is your home now. I swear to you, you will soon come to adore it as I do."

  How beguiling he sounded. His husky tone promised endless nights of passion and days of wild abandon.

  Resist. Flee. More than ever, she needed the safety of numbness. She squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She would feel nothing for this man; she would be rude, completely unlikable. Sometimes that was the only way to keep someone at a distance. "I'm going home," she said, determined. "With or without your permission."

  Before he had time to respond, she jolted into motion and sprinted toward the whirlpool. Her sandals dug into rocks and twigs. Breath caught in her throat, burning, urging her on. Almost there...just another step...

  Valerian grabbed her by the arm and twirled her around.

  "No!" she shouted, kicking backward.

  "If you enter the portal without me, you will die." The words held an unmistakable edge of fury. His hand tightened on her. "You will never be able to swim the length of the water alone. Do you understand? You will die out there, your body nothing more than nourishment for the fish."

  She stilled, the blood chilling in her veins. The water...how could she have forgotten the water? As if he'd shackled her wrists and ankles to the wall, she was trapped. Leave and die. Stay and...what? It didn't matter, really. Living here held no appeal--not when she had King Pleasure to contend with.

  "You can swim the distance," she said, using her haughtiest tone. "I command you to take me home."

  "It is my greatest pleasure to give you anything and everything you request, but I cannot give you that. Anything else you desire will be yours." He released his grip on her arm and traced his fingertip along her collarbone. "One day soon I hope it will be me that you desire."

  Red alert, red alert. She had to get away from him, had to escape that tempting wish. How? Where could she go?

  "At least tell me your name," he cajoled.

  "Up yours." The words emerged breathless, rather than insulting as she'd intended. Exquisite fire trailed the same path as his fingers, then journeyed the length of her spine. Dangerous.

 

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