Once the girls had been found, Delilah had sliced his throat.
That fondling had been for a good cause. This, too, was a good cause, yet the thought of letting anyone other than Layel pleasure her was somehow...abhorrent.
Broderick stood, and he did not appear pleased. Grains of sand clung to his roped chest lovingly. Female sand? A pretty scar slashed from one of his nipples to his navel.
Women came easily, eagerly to him. That much was obvious. Delilah wondered if she was the first to ever have told him no.
"You will not find my touch distasteful, Amazon, I swear it."
"Step away from her, Broderick."
Both Delilah and the nymph pivoted to face their intruder. Layel. Her heart sped up, hammering so hard her ribs would surely crack. His voice had been devoid of emotion, as was his expression. Still, he was the most beautiful sight she'd ever beheld. Sensual, hard, determined. Mine.
Dangerous...Oh, yes, he was. In every way imaginable, maybe even some that weren't.
A needy whimper rose in her throat, and she barely managed to silence it.
"Layel," the nymph said, and there was genuine affection in his tone.
They were friends, and that friendship made her own turbulent relationship with the vampire seem so much darker.
"She is mine," Layel said firmly.
Broderick's lush lips dipped into a confused frown. "But you--"
"Mine," he insisted.
Hearing the vampire's claim was like being branded, the words fiery hot and reverberating all the way to her soul. She should have rebuffed him. Appearances had to be maintained. In front of others, especially her new teammates, she had to be cold, heartless. But she couldn't force the words out.
Mine, he'd said, mimicking her own thoughts. She wanted to smile.
The nymph sighed in disappointment, yet there was a sharp edge to the sound. "I never poach another man's property, you know that. If you change your mind..."
"I will not."
Wait. Property? Had Broderick just called her Layel's property?
Broderick shrugged and strode from the beach. His easy compliance confirmed what she had suspected. She would not have been important to the nymph. She would have been a warm body in an assuredly long line of warm bodies, forgotten when the loving was over. Not good enough for more than a few tumbles.
What would it take to be important to a man? To mean something? To mean everything?
For several seconds, neither Delilah nor Layel spoke. She didn't know what to say to him, really, too afraid to ruin this heady moment.
"Do not think I care about your welfare," he said, looking away from her and to the water.
Moment ruined. Still determined to fight her, was he? Disappointment rocked her, but she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. Words meant nothing, she reminded herself once more. Actions, everything. "Do not think I will deny myself a man if I want him."
A muscle ticked in Layel's stubborn jaw.
"So tell me. If you don't want me for yourself, why did you send the beautiful Broderick away?" she said.
Several seconds passed in agonizing slowness. "I will see you on the battlefield, Amazon," was all he finally said. And then he, too, strode away.
CHAPTER SEVEN
"LAYEL IS MISSING."
Alyssa, fierce soldier of the vampire army, stared up at the nymph king, gauging his reaction to her announcement. Valerian was the only man Layel truly trusted. The only man he counted as friend. Layel respected his warriors, of course, and he was fair and generous to his people. But he kept himself distanced, always distanced.
Still, ever since the nymph sovereign had struck an alliance with the dragons to maintain peace and possession of this palace, the friendship had been strained, and so Alyssa could not be sure of Valerian's innocence.
Had Valerian hurt Layel, the vampire king responsible for hundreds of dragon deaths, to appease his new ally?
The nymph king frowned over at her, concern lighting his brilliant blue eyes. "How long has he been gone?"
That concern appeared genuine, and Alyssa experienced a rush of relief. Layel shouldn't be made to suffer another devastating loss. He might not survive. If he even lived. "This is the second day," she said. "He disappeared amidst..." she swayed, her head suddenly swimming, her knees weaker than usual. Somehow she managed to remain on her feet.
"Woman?" Valerian inquired, concern shifting now to her.
"Forgive the disruption. I'm fine." But she wasn't. She needed blood. Blood she hadn't been able to take in months. Much longer and she would collapse, no amount of determination or fortitude able to save her. "He disappeared amidst a battle in the Forest of Dragons."
Valerian was not easily diverted. "Are you unwell? We now have a healer in residence. Brenna will--"
Do not dare glance at the man beside Valerian. Eyes ahead. "I'm fine," she repeated firmly. "We were speaking of Layel..."
His frown sharpened around the edges. He was a beautiful man, probably the most sensually lovely creature the gods had ever created. He had golden hair, a hard, muscled body and an eroticism that radiated from him no matter where he was or what he was doing.
Females young and old constantly threw themselves at him, though there was only one woman he desired. And that woman was even now sitting on his lap, frowning just as fervently as he was.
"Layel has disappeared before," Queen Shaye said, patting her mate's arm in a bid to comfort him.
Alyssa's chest ached at the sight of their obvious love for each other. She wanted that for herself. Had thought, for a single night, that she had found it. How wrong she'd been.
Once again she had to remind herself to keep her eyes focused on something other than the soldier standing beside Valerian. Shivawn.
She'd hungered for him since the first moment she had spied him and the hunger had only grown. At that first sighting, she'd craved friendship, his fierce loyalty. As she'd grown into a woman, that craving had become sexual. To her absolute devastation, he'd never wanted anything to do with her. Except once...
After ignoring her for years, he had finally allowed her to entice him to her bed. For hours, she'd feasted on his body. She'd savored every sound he uttered, every move he made and every delicious beat of his heart. It had been the most exquisite night of her entire life.
But when the loving had finished, he'd left. No tender goodbye, no farewell kiss.
No hunting her down and sweeping her back into his arms the next day. In fact, he hadn't spoken to her since, even though they had stumbled upon each other several times. With his every glance, however, he'd conveyed his message perfectly: she was a nuisance. Beneath him. Unworthy. She wanted to hate him. Instead, she remembered. She desired. Still. Perhaps forever.
Her gaze moved of its own accord, landing on him, and her heart stuttered to a halt. He was tall; his sandy hair hung in waves to his broad shoulders. He was looking past her, just over her shoulder. His expression conveyed boredom, as though he could not wait for her to leave.
When would he learn? Leaving was the one thing she could never do, not with him. Pathetic of her, yes. But cruel as he was turning out to be, she now needed him to survive. Much longer and she would truly die. He just did not know it yet.
"My mate speaks true," Valerian said, claiming Alyssa's attention once more. "Layel often steals a few days for himself."
"Yet he has never abandoned his own people without word of when he would return. He has never left without placing a second-in-command. And you know as well as I that he would never leave during a battle with dragons."
"You speak true, as well." Valerian's tanned skin blanched, his strong arms tightening around his mate. She was like new-fallen snow, with silver-white hair and skin so luminous it practically glowed. The only color to her belonged to her large, dark eyes. She was human, a child of the surface world, with blood that smelled pure and sweet.
Used to be, the gods had gifted the vampires with humans they didn't want tar
nishing that surface world. Mmm, she remembered how delicious they'd been. No one tasted better.
Except Shivawn.
She had tasted him that night he'd allowed her to seduce him. The sensual power she had found with a single swallow, the headiness...Light-headed, she nearly lost her balance again. She had been unable to take a single drop of crimson nectar from anyone else since.
Oh, she had tried. But everything tasted like rot when compared to Shivawn and she gagged. Finally, she'd stopped trying to feed. She had lost weight, strength, and now spent more time in bed than she did out of it. She was becoming desperate for another taste of Shivawn.
"I will send a troop to scour the Inner and Outer cities," Valerian said. "We will find him."
"Another vampire disappeared, as well," she said. "Zane, a warrior. He is wild, even unpredictable, but he is loyal to Layel and would not have hurt him."
Pensive, Valerian stroked his chin. "Two vampires disappeared, you said?"
"Yes."
"No others?"
She shook her head.
"Two?" he insisted.
"Yes."
"That disturbs me, for two of my nymphs are unaccounted for. Two of my elite. I had thought they stumbled upon bed partners and simply lost track of time. But..."
Two vampires, two nymphs. "What could this mean?"
"I wonder if any other creatures are missing." Valerian flicked Shivawn a glance. "Go into the cities. Learn what you can and report back to me. I want an answer by morning."
Shivawn gave a stiff nod and turned on his booted heel.
"My lord," Alyssa rushed out, stepping closer to the king's dais. Had she been any other species, his guards would have attacked her. Because she was vampire, servant of Layel, the action was tolerated. "I must insist that I accompany your soldier."
Shivawn, who had not paused during her speech, halted abruptly. He kept his back to both Valerian and Alyssa. As he stood there, the braided hair at his temples swung back and forth, beads clicking together. "And I must insist I go alone, my king."
Her eyes narrowed on him, but she didn't direct her words to him. "Your man will get nothing done if he is forced to fight off every woman he encounters. More than that, he will enrage the men of those enslaved females and they will refuse to aid him."
Shaye sighed, a sound of feminine pique. "She's right. You nymphs and your damn mojo. It ruins everything!"
Mojo?
"Everything?" Valerian asked the queen huskily, as if he knew exactly what she meant. Just then, they were clearly the only two people in the chamber, everyone else forgotten.
The human chuckled and kissed his cheek. "Well, maybe not everything."
Another ache lanced through Alyssa's chest as Valerian gazed tenderly at his mate. Oh, to be loved like that.
"Shivawn," Valerian said, "take the vampire with you."
Pivoting, radiating outrage, Shivawn scowled. "My king, I--"
"Will do it," was the firm, sharp interruption.
A moment passed. Then another. The sudden silence was thick and oppressive. Hurtful. Shivawn wanted to argue. She knew that from the clench of his jaw, the tic below his eye and the fists he tried to keep hidden at his sides.
Alyssa pulled her gaze from him. Ultimately, he would not refuse his king. But his hesitation cut her so deeply she longed to sink to her knees and sob. He would have welcomed any other woman, she was sure. Why did he hate her so? Clear your mind. Do not show him the depth of your hurt.
Limbs trembling, she studied the palace throne room. The floors were white marble veined with silver, the walls black onyx studded with jewels of every color. From sapphires to rubies, from emeralds to diamonds, they winked at her, mocking her with their beauty and purity.
Why did he hate her so? she wondered again, unable to bury the question this time.
You know the reason, you simply do not wish to acknowledge it. True. To acknowledge the truth was to lose all hope of winning the man. There is no hope. To Shivawn, she was, and would always be, tainted, for he despised both demons and vampires--and she was equal measures of each. He didn't know it, no one did, but he must sense it on some level.
The demons he blamed for killing his father many years ago. A crime she had inadvertently been involved in, though he didn't know that, either. Would never know it, if she had her way.
The vampires he despised because of their need for blood, for one had nearly killed him. That night, in bed, when she had sunk her teeth into his chest, he had almost slapped her. Had barely managed to stay his hand.
After he left, she had apologized and sent him invitations to join her again. Just as he ignored her when she was present, so had he ignored the summons. But...sometimes she could have sworn he was hidden nearby, his gaze boring into her. Wishful thinking, for she had never caught sight of him. Trained as she was, she would have found a trace. A footprint. A strand of his hair.
Even if she hadn't needed his blood, would she have been able to walk away from him? The answer to that was nothing new. No. To walk away was to lose all hope of winning him. I'm not just demon, vampire and related to the men who destroyed his father. I'm brainless, too. Yet another defect. As she'd thought before, there was no hope. Sometimes, though, she could fool herself.
"Very well," Shivawn finally said, his tone stiff. He strode from the room without another word.
Frustrated with him, Alyssa turned to the formation of vampire warriors behind her, lined against the walls. "Half of you will join Valerian's army in search of our king. The other half will return to the palace. I will report our findings in the morning."
Used to taking orders from her when Layel was gone, they nodded and filed from the chamber. Fighting another wave of dizziness, Alyssa followed Shivawn.
*
DARKNESS WOULD SOON FALL AGAIN, and when it did, the first challenge would begin.
Though he'd constructed weapons yesterday, Layel had spent several hours gathering the perfect limbs for a bow and arrows. The god had finally given permission to use them and wouldn't be taking them away. Again. Already he'd spent several more hours sharpening and honing. His hands were now raw, and his nails, which had healed soon after his encounter with the air shield, were once again coated with dried blood. He was weak from the loss of it and needed to replenish.
But he didn't. He hadn't.
In his foolish, hated desire for Delilah, he had abandoned his only purpose: death to all dragons. Nothing more, nothing less. The woman had occupied too many of his thoughts, tortured him with her femininity, riddled him with concern for her well-being, and nearly felled him with jealousy. Jealousy.
He would allow it no more.
She mattered not to him. Susan mattered. Always, only Susan.
I will prove it. Right now he hovered in a tree, concealed by branches and thick green foliage, looking down at Delilah's team. His bow was cocked, his arrow ready to sail into the heart of the beast.
"...work together," Tagart was saying. "That's the only way to win."
They were gathered in a circle, a fire blazing, some kind of fish anchored over the pit, roasting and filling the air with a sweet aroma. All of the creatures were listening intently, rapt gazes locked on Tagart. Except for Zane, who sat behind them, sharpening a branch with his claws just as Layel had done.
Delilah had her back to Layel, hair streaming wildly, like ribbons his fingers itched to caress. If she stood, Layel would kill her rather than the dragon. He told himself he didn't care. That he'd spared her one too many times already. Did he listen to himself, though?
"How can you know we'll have the chance to work together," Delilah asked, "rather than be called one by one to represent the group? The god didn't specify."
Her voice shivered through him, an embrace, a temptation. His fingers squeezed the bow tightly. Relax, damn you. The wood will snap with any more pressure. Gradually his fingers loosened their grip. He still had a clear shot of Tagart, could lose it at any moment. Do it! Hurt him.
"I don't know. Not for sure," Tagart said. "But we have to be ready for anything. If we aren't..."
"One of us will die," Delilah finished for the dragon, her voice now harsh.
The warrior nodded grimly.
You are facing a dragon. You have never hesitated before. Why now? Layel's hands remained steady despite his internal war, yet still he didn't release the blasted arrow. He ground his teeth together, ashamed and disgusted. He had come here with a purpose. To turn away from that again was disgraceful.
"But if we win, our brethren on the losing team could die," Delilah added miserably.
"You heard what the god said. They are testing us. Our mettle, our determination. We have to decide--who is more important? Them? Or us?"
Every muscle in Layel's body stiffened at that. Them or us? echoed in his head. Them or us? If he killed Tagart, would he ultimately condemn Zane? A warrior he had sworn to protect? Never mind Delilah. Do not think of her, do not dare think of her.
Whatever Layel did, someone was going to die tonight.
Zane...Tagart...Delilah...He wanted the latter two gone, but he would not be able to live with himself if he unintentionally harmed the first. But if his team lost, he would most likely be eliminated. After the way they'd looked at him this morning, knowing he had considered slaying them all...
Perhaps being the first to go was for the best. Perhaps then, he could finally join Susan.
No, he nearly roared. No, no. Not yet. More than he wanted to slay the dragons on this island, he wanted to slay the dragon king. Darius. Just the name caused him to growl. Darius should have stopped his warriors from hurting Susan, should have had better control of them.
Just as I was supposed to have control over my men. He brushed the thought aside. His crime had not destroyed Susan.
Once, about six months ago, Layel had nearly succeeded in killing the dragon sovereign. But then he had seen Darius with a human lover and had remembered Susan and his only days of happiness. In a moment of weakness, Layel had walked away.
Now Darius's woman was pregnant. Another dragon would be born. It was unacceptable. His fault.