Jewel of Atlantis

  There were no windows here, but she knew darkness had already fallen, for sentinels marched outside her door. Their boots thumped against the floor, blending with the sound of her own pacing. Her silky white robe wisped at her ankles, as delicate as clouds.

  Be ready, babe, he'd said. I'm coming in.

  With every step, Gray's words echoed through her mind, bringing with them a wealth of emotion: joy, excitement, hope. His arrival almost seemed too wonderful to be true. How long had she waited for this day?

  The answer was simple. Forever. She'd waited forever.

  He will be hurt.

  The warning suddenly echoed through her mind with the force of a tempest, swirling and churning, consuming. Her joy and excitement were instantly replaced by dread. Her eyes widened in horror. Oh my gods, what had she done? Her premonitions were never, never wrong. If Gray entered this palace, he would be hurt. The knowledge now burned inside her as hot as flames, and she covered her mouth with a shaky hand.

  What if she'd led him to his death?

  If something happened to him, she'd never forgive herself. The demons were a vicious race, always happy to kill and maim. And now, with knowledge of the portals apparently spreading, the demon queen would desperately need Jewel's aid. She wouldn't hesitate to kill Gray in the most painful way possible. A tide of apprehension slammed into Jewel.

  "What have I done?" she whispered brokenly.

  She never should have led Gray here, no matter how desperately she needed him. The demons would smell his human blood. They would find him and rend the flesh from his bones.

  The consequences of her actions rose full force in her mind. Jewel rubbed a hand over her forehead and briefly closed her eyes. A dark, dangerous inner storm threatened to flood and drown her; she was responsible for this. She should have known better, she thought, laughing bitterly. She of all people should have known better than to ask someone to help her. Especially Gray.

  He had always been a part of her life. Her earliest memories were filled with him; throughout her life, she'd had visions of him, of his path from child to man, of his silly antics with his siblings. Of his kill-or-be-killed missions. Of his numerous--too numerous, to her way of thinking--women.

  Quite simply, she'd always loved him.

  His image formed in her mind, though it didn't soothe her as it usually did. No, her fear increased. Wonderfully tall and strong, he was muscled like the fiercest warrior. He had pale blond hair and slate-colored eyes fringed by spiky black lashes, and he glowed with unflinching life and vitality. He fairly sparkled with it.

  His lips were pink and lush like a woman's, but perfect for his masculine features, softening the rough edges and providing an utterly arrogant smile that promised absolute pleasure. For years she'd imagined those lips all over her, tasting, sucking...

  A shiver trekked along her spine. His body was a work of art, bronzed and roped with sinew and scars. So many times she'd longed to somehow breach the vast distance between them and touch him. Trace her fingers over him and assure herself that he was real, flesh and blood, not an exotic figment of her imagination.

  As if she needed another reason to stand out to the creatures of this land, her connection to Gray provided one. Having observed him and the people of his world for so many years, she knew their language, their attitudes, and their humors. She hadn't meant to, gods knew, but she'd adapted herself to their way of life instead of her own.

  She'd known Gray would one day enter Atlantis, and she should have resisted the urge to lead him to her. She'd foolishly allowed her desire for freedom, her craving to learn about herself, her abilities, and her father, to color her actions and thoughts. But more than all of that, she'd simply longed to see him. To see Gray. Not as a dream, but as a man. Real and warm. Touchable.

  She had to do something, anything, to prevent him from entering this palace. She would find a way to escape on her own.

  She closed her eyes, pressed her lips together, and fought a tremor of regret. "I've changed my mind, Gray," she said, projecting her voice into his mind. "Do not enter this palace. Just...go home. Go home and forget about Dunamis. Forget about me."

  He didn't respond, but she knew he heard her. "Gray!" she shouted. "Answer me."

  Not now, Jewel. His hard voice growled inside her mind, and it was the most beautiful sound she'd ever heard.

  Frustrated by his lack of concern, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You better be packing up and heading out."

  As if.

  "I'm appointing myself your commanding officer, and I command you to go home."

  His only reply was a derisive snort.

  "Did you hear me, soldier? I told you to lea--"

  Boom!

  She gasped and tumbled to the ground, the explosion rocking the very foundation of her room. Her heart skipped a beat; her ears rang--and that ringing soon blended with the sound of demonic screams and racing footsteps.

  Gray was here. Damn him, he was here.

  Where are you? he demanded.

  Stiffening with helplessness, horror and fear, she gritted out, "Do not enter the palace, Gray. Bringing you here was a mistake. You'll be hurt!"

  I'll get there faster if you tell me. Otherwise, I'll end up wandering these damn halls and searching every damn room.

  Too late to send him away--he was already inside. How could she protect him? Shaken to the core of her soul, she quickly rattled off directions. "Be careful," she whispered.

  Always.

  Her limbs trembling, she climbed to her feet. Nothing would happen to him, nothing would happen to him, nothing would happen to him. She'd protect him, somehow, someway.

  A lump formed in her throat, and hundreds of sharp knots twisted her stomach. She didn't know what to do. Seconds passed without a word from him. She yearned to call out to him, to ask him where he was and what he was doing. Too afraid to distract him, she remained silent. She merely stood in the center of her room, helpless and racked with guilt and worry.

  Minutes passed.

  Even more minutes passed, becoming longer and more torturous.

  Another explosion rocked the palace.

  Jewel gripped the bedpost, holding herself upright. Her blood ran cold and hot, alternating between the two as demons hissed and wailed beyond her door. Her limbs shook violently.

  "Please, let him live," she prayed. "Bring him to me unharmed."

  The gods didn't respond, but then, they never did, preferring instead to pretend the people of Atlantis did not exist.

  Get away from the door, Jewel.

  Her eyes widened, even as hope and excitement flared to life inside her. "I'm already away."

  Cover yourself with something. Anything.

  He sounded so urgent, so forceful. Bending down, she crawled under the bedframe. "I'm covered."

  Boom!

  The third explosion nearly burst her eardrums. Wood chips and marble chunks crashed onto the floor, raining around the bed like hail.

  "Jewel!"

  This time, Gray's voice wasn't inside her head, but inside her room. Nearly crying with the force of her relief, she crawled from under the bed, pushing past plumes of smoke. She winced when her knee slammed into a broken shard of glass.

  "Here," she shouted, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the haze. "I'm here." Her gaze darted around the destruction until she found him.

  He wore his green and black clothes, his robe nowhere to be seen. His shirt was tight against his bulging muscles, and his pants were ripped at the thigh. A cloth made of the same material as his shirt anchored his hair, hiding the paleness of the strands. He'd painted his face green and black, but beads of sweat had lightened the colors and now streaked his forehead and temples.

  He looked so beautiful.

  He scanned the room, searching for her. And when their gazes collided, locked, hot awareness stole her breath. Her heart skipped a beat. He was strength and life epitomized just then, and he was here for her.

  Slowly
his lips lifted in a tender smile completely at odds with the fiery carnage behind him. "Hello, Prudence."

  She nearly melted.

  "And just so you know, you are so not the commanding officer in this relationship. Now let's go."

  CHAPTER FOUR

  JEWEL'S HEART THUNDERED in her chest as she raced behind Gray through a maze of darkened rooms. She remained alert, ready to lash out if someone tried to hurt him. More than once, she'd attempted to take the lead, but he kept her firmly shielded by the width of his body.

  Her satchel of stolen goods was tied to her waist, and the heavy burden banged against her thigh with her every movement. Flames flickered sporadically, licking the walls, offering momentary visions of crimson remains.

  Gray's steps were eerily quiet amid the tormented screams of dying demons, and he blended so well with the shadows she might not have known he was there if she hadn't been able to smell the masculinity of his scent. Hadn't felt the heat radiating from him and enveloping her.

  He stopped abruptly, pivoted, and leveled her with a hard stare. He towered over her, the size and width of him nearly swallowing her whole. She'd known he was tall and big, but not like this. Seeing him in person brought to light the sheer maleness of him, the vitality. Placing one finger over his green-black painted lips, he motioned for her to be silent. She nodded her understanding.

  One of his arms wrapped around her and pulled her deeper into the shadows, deeper into his body. This was her first true contact with him and even though danger lurked all around them, she found herself yearning to melt into him, to wrap herself around him and slide her lips over his skin.

  "Stay here." His warm breath fanned her ear. "I'll be back."

  Truth. His words held only truth. He would be back.

  Her gift to hear beneath the actual words and know beyond any doubt the speaker's true intention was usually a curse. Not today. When Gray slinked away in the next instant, she didn't race after him. Following him would have proved impossible, anyway. He was like a mist, barely visible one moment, an ethereal phantom the next, lost from her sights completely. She pressed against the too-warm, jagged wall behind her. Where had he gone? What was he doing?

  Seconds dragged by, and a slow panic began to burn in her belly as a sickening thought occurred to her. Gray intended to return, true. Sometimes, though, intentions mattered little. He could be ambushed. Hurt. She gulped. Killed. After the premonition had warned her of his being hurt, why had she let him leave her?

  Fighting a rising tide of terror, she tried to open her mind to him, to find him in the chaos and guide his steps, but she continually stumbled against a mental barrier and saw only darkness. Was it his barrier? Or her own? Having never encountered this type of resistance before, she didn't know the answer. Frustration joined ranks with terror, heating her panic to boiling.

  She drew in a long breath, hoping to calm herself, but the overpowering odor of sulfur and smoke stung her nostrils, making her gag. Bands of fiery heat permeated the air as flickers of light continued to illuminate the shadows. Her gaze scanned the hallway for any sign of Gray. Instead, she saw the dead demon bodies that littered the floor, their scales sizzling.

  A noxious breeze ruffled her hair when a hissing demon whizzed past her, his wings gliding frantically. The creature didn't spare her a glance, but she caught the feral, pained glaze in his eyes, the wildness of his expression.

  She quickly untied her satchel, dug inside, and yanked out a jeweled dagger she'd stolen from Marina. Sensing her, the demon whirled around and pinned her with a deadly glare, hunger washing over his features. Marina's minions were never to hurt or touch her without permission, but Jewel doubted this one cared about such an edict now. He craved blood and death. Saliva dripped from his fangs, as he moved toward her.

  Her heart skipped a beat before reclaiming its frantic tempo. In her visions of Gray's life, she'd seen him fight. She'd seen him kill. He performed each feat with ease, such grace and agility, never questioning his choices. I can do this. I can. Nothing mattered except survival. Determined, she raised the weapon.

  Sensing her intent, the demon abandoned his slow stalking and launched himself at her.

  Her mouth went dry and time slowed. Closer and closer he came. As his claws elongated, preparing to rip through her, she sank to the ground, shoved her knife up and into his stomach. An unholy screech vibrated in her ears.

  "Bitch!" He spat the profanity, hissing wildly. His body jerked and spasmed; his legs kicked out.

  She rolled away from him but wasn't fast enough. His foot slammed into her middle, knocking the breath from her lungs and doubling her over. Panting, she jolted to her feet. The demon tried to remove the knife, but couldn't get a good grip on the handle. He thrashed and moaned and writhed.

  Run, her mind shouted. Hide.

  She didn't. Couldn't.

  Very soon Gray would return here, and she couldn't leave this demon alive, placing her human in unknowing danger. A weapon. She needed another weapon. Jewel sprinted through the hallway, searching for something. Anything. Only dead bodies greeted her.

  Gray suddenly appeared at the opposite end of the hallway like an avenging angel, his features hard and cold. His legs were braced apart, and his hands fisted at his sides.

  He spied the infuriated, injured demon, then darted his gaze throughout the long, narrow space until he saw her. His eyes were winged with soot, making the silver irises appear all the more steely and as dark as a winter sky.

  "Stay where you are," he commanded her, returning his attention to the creature. He still held his knife, the silver now drenched with crimson. Steps slow and sure, he approached, his muscles clenched and ready for attack.

  As Jewel watched him, four words pounded inside her mind. Gray. Danger. Blood. Death.

  No. No! "Stop," she screamed, bolting toward him. "Not another step!"

  Too late.

  The demon had gained his bearings, had waited until Gray drew close enough, and used his wings to vault forward. Before Gray could dodge him, the creature sank his razor-sharp fangs into Gray's upper arm.

  Gray howled in surprise and pain. "Motherfucker!" He slashed at the demon with his knife, but its teeth retained a tight grip, buried deep.

  The moment she was within reach, Jewel kicked up and struck the demon dead center in the face. His head whipped to the side, and his teeth tore out of Gray, dripping with blood.

  With a growl, Gray leapt to the creature and sliced its throat. When it stopped thrashing, when its screams died, the room too became still. Silent.

  "Want to touch her now?" Gray barked, kicking it. Then he stopped, shook his head and seemed to lose the sharpest edge of his fury. He jerked her blade from its belly, wiped the tip on his pants and handed it to her.

  "Thank you." She sheathed the weapon at her side with a shaky hand and fought the urge to throw herself into his arms. To slather his face with kisses. He was so fierce, so much a warrior.

  He wiped a streak of red from his check with the back of his hand, but only managed to smear it further. "Were you hurt?" His voice was hoarse, cracked and layered with tension.

  "No." Her gaze dipped to his newest wound, watching the slow trickle of blood pooling at his elbow. "But you were. I'm sorry. So sorry." More sorry than he might ever know. If not for the vampire bite he'd received days ago, he would be fine. Because of that bite, his blood was already tainted. When the demon and vampire saliva combined, they acted as a deadly poison.

  Gray had one hour, maybe two, before his body reacted and he collapsed.

  This is what her premonition had warned her about. "I'm sorry," she said again. She had to get him out of this palace.

  "I've had worse," he said dryly.

  He wasn't thinking of the vampire who had bitten him, but of the women he'd bedded, the women who had bitten him sexually. Their images flashed through his mind--blondes, redheads, brunettes, their bodies open for him. Eager.

  Jewel saw the images, too, the block
from earlier gone. Her sympathy and concern for him dwindled. The debaucher! He had the dirtiest mind she'd ever read. Motions stiff, she bent down and retrieved her satchel, then retied it to her waist.

  "Let's go." Gray grabbed her hand and tugged. "I found a clear pathway that leads outside."

  Incredulous, she ground her feet into the marble floor, holding herself immobile. She ignored the delicious tingle racing from her hand and up her arm. "That's why you left me?"

  "Yeah." Another tug. "Now let's go."

  "Escape routes are my specialty."

  His brows arched, two sandy slashes on his forest-colored forehead, and he offered her a sexy grin. A born rogue and charmer, he was. He released his hold on her and spread his arms wide. "Then lead the way, baby. I'll follow."

  "I will need a moment."

  He sighed. "It's not like we've got a pressing need to save our lives or anything. Take all the time you want."

  "I will, thank you," she responded primly. Eyelids drifting closed, she pictured the palace, sweeping every corner and hollow. She saw exactly where the demons lurked, where they donned blade-resistant armor around their necks, gearing for war. They hungered for human blood. Smelled it. Craved it.

  Were determined to have it.

  You, to the front entrance, Marina commanded her strongest minions. You, to the back. I want that human snack captured immediately. Do not let him leave.

  "Your path will not work," she said, opening her eyes. "We must go that way." She pointed in the opposite direction.

  "You sure?"

  "Very."

  He didn't ask how she knew, but intertwined his fingers with hers. The feel of his callused hand once again tingled up her arm, renewing her ever-present awareness of him as a male. He pulled her behind him and bolted into action. "I'm sorry you had to fight the demon without me," he threw over his shoulder.

  In her shock, she missed a step and stumbled. An apology. He was giving her an apology. He'd come for her; he'd saved her. He owed her nothing, while she owed him everything.

  "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" He didn't wait for her answer; he whipped around, bent until his shoulder made contact with her belly, then effortlessly lifted her.