Praise for the novels of New York Times

and USA TODAY bestselling author

Gena Showalter

Heart of the Dragon

“Lots of danger and sexy passion give lucky readers

a spicy taste of adventure and romance.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Filled with steamy sex, adventure, and a sprinkle

of humour…a fantastic book!”

—Myshelf.com

Jewel of Atlantis

“Showalter has created a ripe mythological world

populated with fascinating creatures and dark lore…

For extraordinary escapism, read this book.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Shines like the purest gem…Rich in imagery and

evocative detail, this book is a sterling example of

what makes romance novels so worthwhile.”

—A Romance Review, 5 stars

The Nymph King

“A world of myth, mayhem and love under the sea!”

—New York Times bestselling author J.R. Ward

“I want to visit Atlantis! Deliciously evocative and

filled with sexy men, The Nymph King is every

woman’s fantasy come to sizzling life. A must read.”

—New York Times bestselling author P.C. Cast

“Gena Showalter’s stories hum with fast pacing and

characters that leap off the page. Pick up one of

Gena’s books! You won’t be disappointed!”

—USA TODAY bestselling author Julie Kenner

Atlantis

New York Times bestselling author

GENA SHOWALTER

invites you to enter Atlantis,

a world of dark seduction and powerful magic…

HEART Of THE DRAGON

JEWEL Of ATLANTIS

THE NYMPH KING

THE VAmpiRE’S BRIDE

Jewel of Alantis
Gena Showalter

www.mirabooks.co.uk

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author GENA SHOWALTER has been praised for her “sizzling page-turners” and “utterly spellbinding stories”. She is the author of more than seventeen novels and anthologies, including breathtaking paranormal and contemporary romances, cutting-edge young adult novels and stunning urban fantasy. Readers can’t get enough of her trademark wit and singular imagination.

To learn more about Gena and her books, please visit www.genashowalter.com and www.genashowalter blogspot.com.

Other sexy, steamy reads from Gena Showalter and MIRA Books

ATlANTIS

HEART Of THE DRAGON

JEWEL Of ATLANTIS

THE NYMPH KING

THE VAMPIRE’S BRIDE

LORDS OF THE UNDERWORLD

THE DARKEST NIGHT

THE DARKEST KISS

THE DARKEST PLEASURE

THE DARKEST WHISPER

DARK BEGINNINGS

THE DARKEST PASSION

THE DARKEST LIE

More stunning tales from Gena Showalter are coming your way…

INTERTWINED

UNRAVELLED

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To max—my babe.

To the ladies who help make all my dreams come true—Tracy Farrell, Donna Hayes, Loriana Sacilotto, Dianne Moggy, Margo Lipschultz, Keyren Gerlach, Marleah Stout and the amazing HQN art department. (And everyone else I stupidly omitted. Sorry!)

To Merline Lovelace—a woman who generously and warmly gives of herself without reservation.

To Debbie Splawn-Bunch—who wouldn’t let me title this book His (Hard and Shiny) Family Jewels.

Prologue

THE GODS NEVER MEANT to create them.

For centuries they paced throughout the heavens, wailing their need for beings to guide, nurture and rule. They longed fervently for a kingdom overflowing with loyal, grateful, obedient subjects.

And so, the idea of Man was born.

The king of gods was sacrificed, his blood melded with land, air, sea and fire; living creatures were formed. But the elements were unstable, the measure of portions flawed, and the outcome atrocious. The beings they created were not what the gods had envisioned, in appearance or temperament. They were not loyal or grateful, least of all obedient. These Dragons, Minotaurs, Vampires, Nymphs, Formorians—and too many others to name—were powerful rivals, potential usurpers to the royal, immortal throne.

Fear erupted in the heavens.

In a panic, the gods cursed each ghastly creation to a life under the sea, to live forever bound to a city known as Atlantis. The only reminder of their presence was The Book of Ra Dracas, detailing the creation and weaknesses of each race. But that, too, was lost.

Centuries passed.

As it always does, time wrapped the gods in an absolution of forgetfulness, burying the memory of their past mistake. They knew only their ever-growing need for fellowship and attempted once more to create Man.

This time they succeeded, and the human race was born.

Soon after, the age of harmony began: the gods meddling in human lives whenever they wished, and Man worshipping the gods. Only one unspoken rule existed. The two vastly different creations, humans and Atlanteans, were never to meet, never to interact, never to fall in love.

Someone should have told Grayson James.

Chapter One

IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE an easy mission. An in-and-out job. A one-day extraction.

His boss had fed him that line of bullshit, and Grayson James had foolishly believed him. Upon first entering this lushly green, sea-kissed land known as Atlantis, however, Gray realized he would have had better luck trying to sell a Frigidaire to a goddamn Eskimo. At a goddamn jacked-up price.

Atlantis.

Not a myth. Damn it. He’d hoped otherwise.

He scowled. In one hand, he held a beeping, miniature GPS system programmed from coordinates found on a map. An actual, honest-to-God map of Atlantis his boss had discovered in a missing millionaire’s stash. Right now, the GPS signal bounced off the earth’s magnetic core, helping him navigate his way through this Atlantean jungle. In the other hand, he gripped a machete. The sharp silver blade hacked at the thick foliage blocking his path.

No, Atlantis was not a myth. It happened to be home to the most loathsome creatures he’d ever encountered. And as an employee of OBI, the Otherworld Bureau of Investigations, he’d encountered plenty.

Made him wonder why he’d even joined the agency.

He knew the answer, though, and it wasn’t because he’d (secretly) watched Star Trek for most of his teen years and knew how to speak Klingon. “Heghlu’meH QaQ jajvam,” he sighed. Today is a good day to die.

When he’d learned (to his horrified shock) that there actually were other colonized worlds in the vast expanse of the galaxies, he’d left his job as a detective with the Dallas PD and began searching for a Men in Black-type operation. When OBI finally contacted him he’d signed on immediately. He believed fiercely in the need to learn about these otherworlders and protect his own planet from them.

How could he have known that the most fearsome creatures of all resided here, on his own planet? Simply buried beneath the ocean, protected by some kind of crystal dome?

As he dodged a stray limb, he ground his teeth together. “Atlantis,” he muttered. “Code name, Hell.”

After entering a swirling, gelatinous portal OBI had discovered underwater in Florida, he’d found himself inside an enormous crystal palace guarded by huge, sword-wielding men. Luck had been on his side as he stealthily maneuvered his way past them, unnoticed, and entered this jungle.

That’s when he kissed that fickle bitch Lady Luck goodbye.

For the past two nights, a blood-sucking vampire, a fire-breathing dragon, and a hungry, salivating winged demon, aka the Welcoming Committee, had chased him, each sharpening mental forks and knives.

The memories made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

He knew the routine now. In less than one hour, night would fall and those…things would emerge again. They would hunt him. They would attempt to fucking eat him. And not in a good way.

His blood ran cold at the thought and not even the hot, humid air could warm him. For fifty-eight hours he’d been stuck in this seemingly never-ending maze, and for fourteen of those hours, he’d followed the exact same pattern: creatures track, Gray evade.

The first night, he’d tried to shoot them with his Beretta. He managed to nail the dragon between the eyes, but his other pursuers dodged the bullets, quickly and effortlessly gliding out of range.

The second night, when the two remaining creatures appeared, Gray utilized his combat skills and slit the vampire’s throat. A pleasure, he had to admit, but he hadn’t emerged unscathed. Five deep, raw scratch and bite wounds adorned his neck and thigh, throbbing constantly. Not festering, but never quite healing.

How he’d escaped the demon after that, he didn’t know. Injured and weak as he’d been, he would have been easy to overpower. Hell, his bleeding body would have made a delicious dinner buffet. Many times he’d wondered if the demon had purposefully let him go, enjoying the thrill of the hunt a little too much.

Well, the demon wasn’t the only one who was going to enjoy himself tonight. An anticipatory smile lifted Gray’s lips. Smarter now, he wouldn’t be caught off guard. Plus, he’d already worked up a plan affectionately dubbed Operation Kill the Bastard. If KTB unfolded successfully, the demon would soon join his bloodsucking friends in hell. If it didn’t, well, Gray would resort to Plan B: Operation Oh Shit. He’d sprint like a madman and hide until light glowed once more from the seemingly alive dome above.

His gaze flicked to said dome. There was no sky here, only mile after mile of iridescent, pearlized crystal. Waves constantly washed over the outer side, and multiple-sized and colored fish swam in every direction. He like the naked mermaids best.

A twig slapped his cheek, snagging his attention, slicing skin and adding one more item to his growing shit list. He lost all remnants of his good humor. At least the insects had stopped swarming him. A real silver lining, he thought bitterly. He never should have taken this job.

He veered left just as his wristwatch vibrated. He stopped abruptly. “Just what I need,” he muttered. If it wasn’t one thing, it was another, and now it was time to check in with home base.

He dropped his backpack, dug inside, and withdrew a small black transmitter, switching it to On. If he failed to check in at least once a day, the cavalry would sweep in and finish his job. He’d never failed a mission, and he wouldn’t fail this one.

“Santa to Mother,” he said, cringing when he spoke his code name. His unit had thought it was funny as hell, saying he swooped into other worlds and left little presents (like bombs and dead bodies), so the name had stuck. “Do you copy?”

A few seconds of static, before he heard, “Go ahead, Santa.” He recognized the voice of his boss, Jude Quinlin.

“I’m still without the package, but all is well.”

“Copy that.”

“Over.” He ended the transmission and stuffed the receiver into his backpack, then kicked into gear again. All was well, his ass. To survive Operation KTB himself, he needed to find a small clearing with ample room to sprint, dodge, and dive for cover. So far, no luck. And he was running out of time, his hour ticking away unmercifully.

When a wall of trees blocked his path, he pivoted right, but the GPS erupted in a series of erratic, high-pitched beeps, a sign he’d taken a wrong turn. Growling low in his throat, Gray spun around and backtracked until the miniature device calmed. Sweat trickled from his temple and dripped onto his military fatigues.

He’d been due a vacation, damn it, a chance to see the brothers and sister he hadn’t visited in over two years. He called them regularly, of course, but that wasn’t the same as hugging them, laughing with them. Being with them. He wanted to play with Katie’s children, wanted to make sure her husband Jorlan was treating her like the prize she was.

Working for OBI—which translated into constant planet-hopping through inter-world wormholes—didn’t allow for frequent trips home. Hell, working for OBI didn’t allow for trips anywhere except alien planets. And now underwater cities. It sure as hell didn’t allow for dating and getting laid. Unless he wanted to have a one-night stand with a three-eyed, blue-skinned, slimy alien female. He didn’t.

1 He’d never liked one-night stands, preferring instead multiple nights with multiple orgasms.

2 Three eyes? Slimy skin? Uh, gross.

3 Did he mention that he liked to take his time with a woman, lingering over every nuance of her body, savoring her scent, her taste? That he liked to hear her shout about his unbelievable sexual talents in English?

He grinned at the thought of “unbelievable sexual talents.”

Another branch bitch-slapped his cheek, and he lost his grin. Your fault, man. You shouldn’t have let your mind wander into the gutter. How true. Now was not the time to be thinking of sex and women. Or having sex with women. He blamed the heat for his wayward mind. That, and the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in a long, long time. Too long.

Way too long.

Why else would he have lost focus on what was important—his survival—in favor of picturing a naked woman. A naked woman with long, velvet-soft legs that wrapped around his waist and—

Yet another twig popped him, in the eye this time. How many would he have to endure? “Concentrate, boy.” It’s not like he suffered from ADD. You’re here for a reason, James. Think of nothing but that.

One moment of distraction could cause a mission to fail. He knew that, and was surprised at how easily his mind kept veering. Perhaps being hunted by a cannibalistic demon wasn’t exciting enough for him. If that was the case, he needed a total body probe and psych exam ASAP.

“The mission. Think only about the mission.” As they had a thousand times before, his boss’s departing words drifted through his mind. We found a book, Gray. The book, actually, titled Ra Dracas. It tells of dragons and vampires and other such nonsense, but the true message is hidden between the text, written in code.

“The text about dragons and vampires is nonsense,” he mocked. Hindsight sucked major ass.

Once we broke that code, his boss had added, we learned about the Jewel of Dunamis, a jewel so powerful it can be used to predict the future. A jewel so powerful it can show who’s lying and who’s speaking the truth. Whoever holds it will have the ability to destroy any enemy. Conquer any army.

Small wonder his government wanted so desperately to own it.

Gray was to find and steal this precious jewel, then bring it home. If his mission was compromised in any way, he was to destroy it so that no one else got their greedy hands on it.

It was that simple.

Simple? Yeah, about as simple as routine brain surgery. Gray paused briefly and sipped from his dwindling canteen of vitamin-enhanced water. The cool liquid slid down his parched throat, offering a much-needed burst of energy before he jolted back into motion.

For an eternity he pushed himself onward, never slowing, ever conscious of what awaited him if he didn’t find a spot to enable Operation KTB. His gaze darted to his wristwatch, the digital red light barely visible under the dirt and grime covering him. Twenty minutes until showtime, so he had to find a workable patch of land now. He scowled and—

Watch out for the quicksand.

His eyes jerked swiftly across his surroundings as he searched for the speaker, a woman. He didn’t duck for cover, didn’t stop walking, preferring instead to be mobile. Plus he didn’t want to scare her with any surprising movement. That’s how trigger-happy fingers were created.

He did tighten his grip on the machete. The odds were fifty-fifty the woman had a weapon, and even higher that she’d actually use it. Still. A man couldn’t be too careful.

Are you listening to me? I said, watch out for the quicksand!

The husky, heavily accented female voice slammed into his mind once again, so richly sensual and commanding he acquired an instant, unwanted, and surprising hard-on—before he promptly began sinking into a large pool of quicksand.

“What the hell?” Instinctively he attempted to raise his legs, which only caused him to sink farther and faster. He stilled and glared at the ground, watching it slowly rise, covering his feet…his ankles.

Now you’ve done it. Exasperation clung to the edges of her words. She might even have added, Dumb ass, but he wasn’t sure. I tried to warn you.

“Where are you?” he asked, using his gentlest, most reassuring tone as he eyed the lush green bushes circling him. The leaves here were thicker than any he’d ever encountered, barely moving in the gentle wind.

There was no hint of person or clothing peeking from the shrubbery, still no rustle or snap to indicate movement. She’d tried to save him from the quicksand, so she hopefully meant him no harm. God knew he needed all the help he could get right now.

“You can come out,” he said. “I won’t hurt you. You have my word.”

Think for a moment, Gray. You don’t hear me with your ears, but with your mind.

“How do you know my name?” he asked sharply. Then he blinked, shook his head, blinked again. The voice remained, echoing from each corridor of his brain. She was right. Her words were actually inside his mind.

How was that possible?

How the hell was that possible?

“I’m schizo.” The statement burst from his mouth, too shocking and surreal to keep inside. “I’ve finally jumped over the ledge of sanity with thousand-pound weights tied to my ankles.” He’d seen some weird shit in his lifetime, and it had finally caught up with him.

He should have known it would come in the form of a split personality. A sexy as hell female personality, at that. Her whisky-rich voice…he’d never heard anything quite so erotic.

Down, down he sank as the sand covered his calves with its gooey wetness. The scent of stagnant water and decaying—he wrinkled his nose. He did not want to guess what was decaying.

Insane or not, he hadn’t survived two days and nights of torture to die by stinky sand. No matter what he had to do, he’d save his life—or rather, lives—from this mess.

God, this sucked.

Unwilling to lose a single supply, he tossed his GPS and machete to dry ground. Careful not to jostle too much or too quickly, he removed his backpack and tossed it beside the blade, wishing to God his propel wire hadn’t been lost during a battle with the Welcoming Committee.

He scowled for, what…the thousandth time in as many hours? The expression well represented his views of Atlantis. Meanwhile, he continued to sink, slowly, slowly, the wet sand working its way past his knees, up his thighs. The thick liquid grains were cold, and his body temperature fell a couple hundred degrees. His blood pressure was the only thing on the rise.

Amid the popping and gurgling of wet suction, he searched his surroundings again, this time looking for a lifeline. No branches, no vines were nearby. Only a large white rock, but it was too far away to reach with his hands.

Take off your shirt, the sensual, I-want-you-naked-and-in-my-bed voice said.

He snorted derisively. He was sinking toward death, and his new female personality wanted him to strip. Why wasn’t he surprised?

“Want me to remove my pants, too?” he asked dryly. At least he’d picked a hot, nympho chick to be his mind-companion and not a nasally old man.

Idiot! she huffed, a blush dripping from her tone. Take off your shirt, clasp the opposite ends in your hands, and hook the material around the rock.

His eyes widened as he studied the distance of the rock again. That might actually work. For the first time in days, he laughed with genuine amusement. He might be schizophrenic and teetering on the brink of total insanity, but he was also a freaking genius.

The woman—it was hard to continually think of such a distinctive, seemingly real voice as merely an extension of himself—sighed. Why did the gods have to pick you?

Her dejection caused his smile to grow. “I could ask myself the same question, babe.”

Reaching behind him, he gripped the neck of his shirt and tugged it over his head. With one end of the camouflage material in his left hand and the other in his right, he leaned forward and tossed the looped shirt at the rock. He missed.

He tried again and missed.

Okay, so he seriously needed to increase the hours he spent at target practice.

The sand now reached his waist. He continued to lean and toss until the shirt finally anchored solidly. He gave a hard jerk and stopped sinking.

Now pull.

“I know what to do.” He pulled, using all of his strength. His arms burned from the strain. The sand grasped at him like strong, greedy fingers, holding him in place.

Grimacing, he continued to hoist up his two hundred pounds of muscle. His shoulders popped, the weight straining sockets and bones. The sand continued to tighten its embrace, burning the wound in his leg. The teeth marks in his neck throbbed against the exertion, perhaps even split open because he felt a trickle of something warm and wet on his skin.

Just a little more…almost…there. The sound of ripping cotton and poly filled his ears. With a final yank, his body landed on dry, solid ground. He sucked in a relieved breath.

Now, run. Hurry. The demon has already begun to stir.

Ignoring her, Gray rolled to his back before easing up and into a crouch. As he glanced at his wristwatch, a soft, salty breeze drifted past him, reminding him of the beach vacation he so craved. This area would be as good as any other, he supposed. He’d run out of time.

“Let Operation KTB commence.” He slipped on his shirt, unzipped his backpack and rooted inside.

What are you doing? Run, you fool.

“You need a name,” he said, ignoring her demand and continuing his search inside the bag. Didn’t all split personalities have names? If he was going to be insane, he might as well embrace it fully. For now, at least. Once he returned home and told the captain about his new friend, he’d be poked with so many needles it would make an alien probing seem like a sensual massage.

Maybe he’d call her Bunny. Or Bambi.

Please, she cried. You need to hide. If you don’t, you’ll be hurt again and—

“I’m not running. I’m going to kill it.”

She paused, absorbing his words. Listen, Gray. You aren’t insane. I’m not a figment of your imagination or a personality inside your mind. I’m very real, and I can help you. I know Atlantis and the, creatures here. Listen to me and you just might live for one more day.

Now it was his turn to pause. Her claim made a weird sort of sense. Throughout the years, he’d seen and experienced all sorts of strange things. “Can you prove it?” he almost said, but stopped himself.

Though he hadn’t actually spoken, she heard him and uttered a frustrated hiss. You are such a human. Prove this, prove that. Humph! I’m speaking with you, aren’t I?

Several alien races communicated psychically, so he already knew it could be done. He just hadn’t known it could be done with him. Fact is, he was relieved his brain hadn’t experienced full meltdown.

“Where are you?”

Hades, it seems.

He grinned. “Yeah? Me, too. Want to tell me how you know my name?” He resumed his search inside the bag. “And how are you getting inside my mind?” That bothered him, a lot, but he had too many other things to worry about right now.

Do you really wish to discuss this now? Time is your enemy.

Again, she was right. He truly didn’t have long, perhaps five or ten minutes and he needed every second. “I’ll let those questions slide, but there’s one thing I’ve got to know. Why are you helping me?”

Pause. It would be a shame to mar your pretty face.

Good answer. Dare he say irrefutable?

“You know how to take down a demon?” Myths claimed garlic, a stake through the heart, or holy water would do the trick. Wait. Those killed vampires. What the hell killed demons? The Book of Ra Dracas might have very well provided step-by-step instructions, yet he’d paid no attention, seeing the script merely as camouflage for the hidden code about the jewel. Stupid.

There is no reason to fight. I can lead you to safety.

“Poison? Dynamite?” As he spoke, he lifted the items in question.

Heavy silence blanketed his mind.

“I’m not going anywhere, honey, so you might as well tell me.”

His neck, she finally said on a trembling catch of breath. You have to—well, you know.

“Yes, I’m afraid I do.” He bypassed the grenades; he might need those later, and withdrew four sticks of dynamite, as well as his night-vision goggles.

That dynamite won’t help you. Demons are strengthened by fire.

“I’m hoping the force of the explosion will slow him down so I can get close enough to him to…you know.” He slapped a clip into his gun and slid a load into the chamber. This was his last round of ammunition, so he had to make the most of it.

Be careful. Please, be careful.

So many emotions layered her words. Terror, regret, hope. Concern. Emotions he didn’t understand and didn’t have time to ponder.

Promise me.

“I give you my word,” he answered, and then he tuned her out completely, unwilling to let her distract him from his purpose. If he wanted to win, he had to get in his zone—and stay there.

Sensing his needs, she said, I won’t speak again until this is over.

Forming a large circle with the dynamite, Gray planted a stick next to each of the towering trunks. The breeze intensified, prancing with renewed life. Darkness approached steadily, threading gnarled fingers through the thickness of the trees. Adrenaline thundering through his veins, he anchored his night goggles over his eyes, the world dimming to reds and grays.

Dynamite in place. Check.

Gun in hand. Check.

Bullets loaded. Check.

Knife. He lifted the machete and hooked it to the waistband of his pants. Check.

All that remained was covering his body with a blanket of leaves, camouflaging him from the demon’s view. But as he bent to gather the first leaf, a whiz sounded next to his ear, followed by a sulfur-scented wind and taunting laughter.

Too late.

The demon had arrived.

Mentally cursing, Gray crouched low and tightened his grip on his weapon. As he lay there, sweat dripped from his forehead and onto his goggles, momentarily shielding his line of vision. His head moved slowly, his eyes scanning from side to side, looking for a telltale blur of heat. Where the hell was it? Come on, show yourself.

Not finding a hint of the creature on land, he flicked a glance upward—and saw a figure speedily diving toward him, down, down. He didn’t panic as it came closer. Closer still. No, he grew eager, anticipatory.

Almost here…Gray rolled out of the way a split second before contact. The demon crashed into the ground, and an evil hiss slithered through the night. Unfortunately the creature was up and hidden in the trees before he could fire off a shot.

“You want to play hide and seek,” he shouted, “we’ll play hide and seek. Come and get me, you ugly bastard.” Gun pointing straight ahead, Gray jumped to his feet and ran. Ran toward the first cluster of dynamite, praying the demon followed. When he heard the rustle of a cloak and felt the warmth of breath on the back of his neck, he smiled with satisfaction.

Oh, yeah. The little shit had followed him.

As Gray passed the tree, he whipped around and aimed his gun. Boom! The bullet nailed the dynamite. Instantly fire spewed, and the tree exploded. The blast lifted Gray into the air, then slammed him onto the ground, shoving the air from his lungs. It did the same to the demon, and amid its howls of pain and fury, wooden shards and charred leaves rained.

He’d hit him, Gray knew, fighting for breath, but had he slowed him down?

An acrid stench and black smoke billowed around him as he pushed to his feet. Gray launched into a sprint, closing the distance between himself and the second cluster of dynamite. Infuriated, the demon followed once more; no longer playful and taunting, it stayed close on his heels. Saliva dripped from the too-white, too-sharp teeth, and onto Gray’s neck.

Gray spun around and fired. Boom! The second cluster exploded, lighting up the shadows with orange-gold flames. A blast of pure heat swept over him; he went airborne again, but this time he expected it and hit the ground rolling. The demon propelled into another tree trunk, shrieking in rage and renewed pain, growling curses in a language Gray didn’t understand.

Gray jolted up and started running.

Now! the female shouted inside his mind. Fire now!

He hadn’t passed the third cluster yet, was just in front of it, in fact. If he fired now, he might barbecue himself. He aimed and fired anyway, diving for the ground.

Boom!

The impact threw him backward, and he covered his head with his hands. Waves of heat rolled over him, hotter than before, burning his clothes, his skin. A loud thump, then a gasp for breath echoed in his ears.

Unfolding from the ground, Gray readied his knife. He raced to the demon. The ugly bastard had slammed into another tree and now struggled to right himself. His eyes glowed a bright, eerie red. Horns protruded all over his scaly body. Without pausing for thought, Gray raised the blade and struck. Blood splattered.

Silence greeted him as the scent of rotting sulfur filled the air.

Remaining in place, Gray moved his gaze through the clearing. The smoke was thicker now, heavier, and billowed around the remaining trees like angry clouds. Bits of bark and foliage continued to fall from the sky. His goggles had come off sometime during the fight, and his eyes watered. His nostrils stung, but most of all his joints ached.

He jerked the bandana from his head and smoothed the material over his nose, blocking the foul, heated air.

You won, the woman said, awe and joy laced in the undercurrents of her voice. You really won.

“I never doubted it,” he lied. Without any hint of emotion, he carefully stretched every vertebra of his spine, working out the kinks and bruises. He was getting too old for this shit.

After replacing the camouflage bandana, he kicked through the rubble until he found the GPS system, his goggles and his backpack. Each was burned around the edges, but essentially unharmed. He flipped the safety on his gun and stuffed it in the holster at his side before hooking the pack over his shoulder. That done, he cleaned his machete and sheathed it at his side, as well.

“Now,” he said, knowing his adrenaline rush would soon wane. Best to finish his business with the woman before he crashed. He leaned against a thick, splintery tree trunk and rubbed the throbbing wound on his neck. “Let’s you and me have a little chat, shall we? I want to know who and where you are. I want to know the real reason you helped me. As much as I hate to admit it, there’s got to be more to it than you like the look of me.”

She sighed, the sound heavy and long. This isn’t the time.

“Sure it is.” Patience was for priests. Gray damn sure wasn’t a priest.

I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Later.

“That’s what you said before. And by the way, I’m not sure I like this role reversal thing we’ve got going on. Woman love to talk and share every detail of their lives. Men don’t. But look at us? I’m wanting to talk and you’re wanting to shut me out.”

I’m sorry, it’s just…Gray?

“Yes?” he prompted when she slipped into silence. He shifted from one foot to the other, not liking how quickly she’d lost her happy timbre.

That was only the beginning.

Chapter Two

THAT WAS ONLY the beginning.

The warning echoed through Gray’s mind, ominous and dark. A malevolent tempest gusting straight toward him. He forgot his need to question the woman, to know her name and her true reasons for helping him.

“What do you mean that was only the beginning?”

Danger still lurks here. You need to reach the safety of the streets.

“What kind of danger?”

Other demons are nearby. Vampires, too. Once they learn of their friend’s death, you will once more be a hunted man.

His inner child perked up immediately, thinking: all right, I get to blow more stuff up. His adult self groaned in protest, suddenly too fatigued and too sore to play anymore, wanting only to take his toys and go home.

“This jungle is a real who’s who of Atlantean crap, you know that?” As he’d feared, his adrenaline rush was quickly dissipating, the explosions and heat taking their toll. He needed to find a safe place to crash.

For some dumb-ass reason, though, he didn’t want the woman to know how winded he was. He wanted her to think of him as strong and invincible. So he kept his breathing slow and even, kept his shoulders straight and his expression firm.

“Can you get me out of this jungle?” His fingers flexed around the machete’s hilt.

North. Head north.

His feet heavy, he plodded through the ash, rocks and twigs until he came to a grove of white trees. They swayed like ghosts. He didn’t recall seeing them before. He plucked one of the white leaves, the woman’s sexy voice leading him past them. Soon he found a pair of footprints and realized someone else had once taken this same path.

Those are your footprints.

“No way,” he said in disbelief.

Take a look.

He bent down and studied the dirt etchings. Sure enough. They matched his size and shoe type. He scowled. He’d been here before, but he’d obviously gone the wrong way. “How close is this to the exit?”

You’ll see, she laughed.

He emerged five minutes later.

Gray cursed under his breath. He stood at the edge of a cobbled path, winding away from the forest. So simple. So easy. The darkness was growing thicker, but without the density of trees hovering around the road, ribbons of the crystal dome’s soft golden glow slipped free.

Frowning, he released his grip on the machete and fisted his hands at his sides. It had only taken him three miserable days, three explosions and a goddamn Invisible Woman to get out.

“I could have found it on my own,” he mumbled for pride’s sake.

The woman laughed again, a sound so lush and sexual his body instantly responded. Most likely she could have cursed him to everlasting hell and he would have lusted after her. Would have hardened for her, ached to touch her. She sounded that sexy.

He didn’t like how quickly and easily she affected him. Wasn’t used to it, in fact. As much as he loved and treasured women, as much as he enjoyed savoring and pampering them, they always came to him, had to work to gain his interest. He’d never responded so potently to a specific one; there were just too many to choose from.

The only way you would have made it out of that jungle without me, was if your dead body had been dragged out between that demon’s teeth.

“Smart-ass,” he said, but he found himself grinning.

The creatures never would have found you if you hadn’t doused yourself in insect repellant.

“You’re kidding me? That repellent is supposed to be scentless.”

For insects, perhaps.

He lost all remnants of his grin. If the label had said one word, one freaking word about attracting demons and vampires, he never would have used it. Disgusted, Gray stopped and sipped from his canteen, the coolness of the water soothing his ashy throat.

“Where do I go from here? I need a hot meal—” the energy bar in his bag wouldn’t cut it this time “—a bath and a soft bed.” A willing woman wouldn’t be amiss, either. Preferably the one eavesdropping on his thoughts.

She cleared her throat. Yes, well, just follow this path.

He chuckled and jolted into motion. Perhaps it was folly on his part to trust her so completely, but trust her he did. She’d saved his life. Twice now.

Maybe that was part of a diabolical plan, but he just didn’t care. At the moment, she could have lead him straight into a human stew pot and he would have willingly gone.

His boot struck a cluster of pebbles, skidding them forward and tripping him. He righted and rubbed the wound on his thigh. Every action increased the pain there.

You need to clean that, as well as the one on your neck.

“As soon as I find shelter, I’ll use the first aid kit in my bag.” Not that the antibacterial ointment would do any good. He’d been using it for two days to no avail.

You received these wounds yesterday, yes? From the vampire?

“Yes.”

And they’ve only grown worse? That is not good. Not good at all.

He caught the underlying foreboding in her tone. “Do I need to worry about morphing into a bloodthirsty phantom of the night?”

His dry tone raised her hackles. You should not joke about something so serious. Did the demon bite or scratch you today?

“Are you kidding? The bastard barely got near me.”

She sighed. Neither of us has reason to worry, then. For now. Besidesyour monstrous ego, you should be fine.

He was tired, though. God, was he tired. He hadn’t lied. He needed food and a bed as soon as possible or his legs were going to give out on him. The bath and the woman were optional at this point.

A cool wind wafted past him, gentle and welcome, offering a bit of comfort to his stiff muscles. Darkness was reaching the point of total black, like a tomb, where he wouldn’t be able to see a damn thing.

Down the road, he noticed a slash of white against the shadows. After a moment, he realized that slash was actually a person, slowly padding in the same direction he himself traveled, just twenty paces ahead of him. Gray tensed and reached for his gun, never slowing his gait. He had two bullets left in the clip.

He’d only need one.

You may rest easy, Gray. The nymph will not bother you.

“Nymph?” He paused briefly, the word dancing through his mind. “An actual nymph? As in a female with such a high sexual drive, she leaves her partner in a coma of pleasure?”

Will you get serious?

“I am serious. Do you know her? Can you introduce us?”

She growled low in her throat. For your information, the surface legends are wrong. Most nymphs are males.

Male? “No way.”

Look closely and see for yourself.

He did, his gaze probing deeply into the creature’s back, taking in the small details. Broad shoulders. A masculine gait. Large, booted feet peeked out from the robe’s hem.

A shudder raked Gray, and all thoughts of pleasurable comas vanished. “That man needs to die simply for ruining my fantasy.”

He will not be as easy to kill as the demon. Nymphs are the greatest warriors in the land, stronger even than dragons, though they never strike first. As long as you leave him alone, you’ll both walk away unscathed.

“I’ll remember that.” The closer Gray came to the nymph, the taller he realized the creature was. Taller than him, actually. An amazing feat considering Gray stood at six-five and usually towered over everyone he encountered. Keeping his weapon ready just in case, Gray maintained a wide berth as he passed.

The imposing white-robed male grimaced, glanced over at him, and waved a hand in front of his surprisingly feminine and starkly beautiful face. He barked something in a deep, guttural language.

“What did he say?” Gray asked as soon as he was a safe distance away.

That you reek of ash and death.

“Well, aren’t I the special little boy today.” Nearly eaten alive, then aromatically insulted. He sniffed himself, and his lips pursed. Okay, so he did smell a little.

He delved deeper into the shadows, listening for telltale signs of footsteps or the cock of a weapon. As his mind-companion predicted, the nymph left him alone.

Only when he’d gone a mile farther, however, did he relax his guard. He breathed deeply and let his gaze wander. The beauty here amazed him. Dew sparked like diamonds atop the brilliant green foliage. The whisper of waves created a melodic rhythm, and the scent of pineapple and coconut fragranced the air. Throw in a La-Z-Boy recliner, a fridge loaded with ice-cold beer, and a dozen dancing hula girls—naked of course—and he’d be in heaven.

Can you think of nothing besides women and sex?

“Sure I can,” He jumped over a pile of rocks, never breaking stride. “Why don’t you take off all your clothes and tell me who you are and why you’re helping me.”

At first her only reaction was a gasp, and he would have given anything to see her expression. To see her. He suspected she was blushing. Would her blush color only her cheeks, or would it spread, delving further, along her collarbone…her breasts?

He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat.

We can discuss that later, she finally said.

“You keep saying that, and to be honest, I’m sick of hearing it. I don’t even know your name.”

Silence.

“A name is such a simple thing. Surely you can tell me yours.”

I can’t.

“Yes, you can. Open your mouth and let sound come out. Try it, you might like it.”

No, I truly cannot tell you. Because, well…because I don’t have one, she admitted reluctantly, shamefully.

His brow furrowed. Not have a name? Everyone and everything had a name. Was she lying, perhaps? No, he decided in the next instant. Her shame was too real. Which left the question: why didn’t she have a name?

Instead of pressing for more details, he said, “Why don’t I call you Babe? It’s short, easy, and perfect for you.”

I am not an infant, she said, clearly offended.

“In your case, the word means hot and sexy.”

Oh. Ohhh. He imagined her smiling dreamily. Still, I think. I prefer something less suggestive. You may call me…Jane Doe.

“Now it’s my turn to nix.” He chuckled. “I’m not calling you by a name I use for dead female bodies I can’t identify.”

She sighed. Will you call me Jewel?

He experienced a jolt of surprise that she had picked that name, since it was the whole reason he was here. Is that why she chose it? he wondered suspiciously. Probably. Clearly, she could read his mind, as well as toss her voice inside. He’d have to be more careful about what he considered. “Jewel it is, then.” He rolled the name across his tongue, savoring its taste. He hadn’t seen her face, but anyone with such a flat-out sexy voice deserved a flat-out sexy name, and Jewel did fit the bill.

He skirted around a pile of rocks. “Why did you help me, Jewel?”

She exhaled slowly, and the breathy trickle caressed his nerve endings, tickling like the tip of a feather. I need your help. She sounded defensive. Unsure.

“Help doing what?”

Saving me. I’ve been imprisoned again and I—

“Again?” He stopped and his backpack slammed into his spine. “What the hell for?”

For being me. I believe you surface dwellers would say everyone wants a piece of me.

The scolding edge in her voice made him laugh, and he jolted back into motion. “I’d like to help you, babe, but I’m kind of pressed for time.”

I know. Bitterness hardened her tone. You’re after the Jewel of Dunamis.

The moment she spoke, the muscles in his shoulder tensed. Oh, he wasn’t surprised she did, in fact, know—she could read his thoughts, after all. But hearing her say the words…He didn’t want to have to find her and silence her (permanently) because she knew something she wasn’t supposed to. Could tell someone she wasn’t supposed to.

He drew in a breath and slowly released it. “What I’m doing here isn’t relevant to you.”

I can take you to the jewel, Gray. That’s why I picked the name Jewel for myself. I am the only one who can lead you to it.

“Please. I can find anything, anywhere. That’s why my boss chose me for this mission. Besides that, I work alone.” He enunciated each word, wanting no misunderstanding of his refusal. “Always.”

Still she persisted. You’ll never find it without me. This I swear to you.

He shook his head and his bandana fell askew. He shoved the material back into place. “This little baby says I can,” he said, patting the GPS system he’d hooked to his belt, the quiet, steady rhythm of its beep soothing.

She snorted. So that little baby helped you out of the jungle, did, it? That little baby helped you defeat a demon? Let me tell you something. You will not successfully navigate or survive Atlantis without me.

His fists clenched at the reminder—and the threat, veiled though it was. “You’d say anything to get your way.”

Yes, she replied truthfully, surprising him. I would. In this case, however, I’m not dancing around the truth. We need each other.

His teeth bared in a scowl, and he kicked a large rock with the steel toe of his boot, sending the white stone skidding down the path. Jewel might have proven herself trustworthy, but he preferred to rely only on himself. People got scared, did stupid things. The last partner OBI had given him abandoned him in a weapons compound at the first sign of trouble, leaving him at the mercy of an infuriated alien warlord. Only Gray’s long-standing seduction of Lady Luck helped him escape alive. That, and a two-pound package of C4 explosives.

But if Jewel was the only way to reach the gemstone, he needed her. Period. He’d be wasting valuable time by not going after her. And Gray hated wasted time almost as much as he hated feeling helplessness.

I feel the same.

“I can do without the commentary,” he told her dryly.

Don’t forget I saved your life. Twice.

“That’s debatable,” he said, even though he’d thought the same thing only moments before.

If she were with him, he could make sure she didn’t tell anyone about his mission and compromise him. But if he rescued her and she conveniently “forgot” to help him find Dunamis, if she tried to harm or stop him…He sighed.

I would never harm you.

He was going to liberate her, and he knew it. No use trying to talk himself out of it. He’d save her and force her to help him, if need be. And he’d do it for reasons that had nothing to do with that I’m-waiting-for-you-to-find-and-fuck-me voice.

I am not!

At her outrage, he lost some of his anger. To be honest, he was looking forward to seeing Jewel and hearing her voice in person, to coming face-to-face with the woman who could read his mind.

The cobbled path twisted sharply to the left, scattering his shadowy cover. He quickened his pace until he maneuvered back into the deepest darkness. Up ahead, the road stretched for miles.

Maybe he’d get lucky and stumble upon a massage parlor. “Do I have to walk this entire road to get to you?”

At first, she said nothing. Then, You’re going to help me?

“We’re going to help each other. Isn’t that the deal?”

Yes. Yes! Oh, thank you. You won’t be sorry.

Joy and shock and excitement radiated from her words, and he imagined her dancing…wherever the hell she was, wearing nothing but a skimpy black leather halter top and a smile.

Another bout of silence erupted, before she humphed and said, I’m wearing a long white robe that covers me from head to toe, if you must know.

“Way to ruin the fantasy and cause Private Happy to hide.” He tried to sound stern, but his amusement seeped through. He’d never had this much fun teasing a woman. “I think we picked the wrong name for you. I think I should call you Prudence.”

Do it and your Private Happy will receive a proper introduction to my knee.

A rich, husky laugh escaped him. “Ah, Pru, we’ve got to loosen you up a bit. Show you the advantages of being wicked. I’ll add that to my ‘To Do’ list.”

Yes, well, you can be here in two days, she said, changing the subject.

“Two days?” He so did not want to endure another two days in this hellhole.

Just go around the far hill, past the sheep farm—

“Over the river and through the woods, then down the yellow brick road. I know.” He exhaled. “One thing at a time, babe. One thing at a time.” Maybe two days wasn’t such a bad thing. It would give him a chance to rest up, rebuild his strength. “I’m still needing that hot meal, bath, and soft bed.”

Oh, yes. Of course. The sheep farm has everything you need.

Three hours later, the darkness waned and Gray reached the farm. He performed a perimeter check and discovered the owner asleep in his bed. The man/thing possessed the top half of a human, and the bottom half of a chestnut horse, complete with tail and hooves. Dear God.

Don’t hurt him. Please.

Silently Gray withdrew a tranq-filled gun from his backpack and with a quick shot to the horse-man’s neck, injected him. The creature jerked, then stilled completely. This was the only tranquilizer Gray had brought, and he hated to use it now. At this point, however, he would have injected his own father if it meant eating a hot meal without interruption.

When Gray was assured the creature wouldn’t awaken for hours yet, he strode into the kitchen and dropped his backpack on the freshly polished wood floor. The place reminded him of a country cottage, complete with straw beds, wood-burning stove, and fresh, home-cooked scents.

He filled a clay basin with water, stripped to the skin, and washed himself as best he could, taking care around his wounds. He slathered those with antibiotic ointment before slapping bandages over them.

Be gentler, please. You’re making me cringe.

He arched a brow. “Can you see me?”

Only through your eyes.

How prim she sounded, he thought, smiling, just before he looked down.

She gasped.

He chuckled. “I think General Happy likes you.”

Yes, well…I thought his—its—name was Private Happy.

“He seems to be the one in command lately, so he’s come up in the ranks. Got a nice promotion.” His throat clenched as he fought to contain his guffaws of laughter. “Wishing I’d look down again?”

She remained silent, and his smile grew.

Clean at last, he redressed in his mud-caked fatigues. He hated wearing dirty clothes, especially now that he was clean, but he wouldn’t leave them behind. After he devoured a bowl of fruit and nuts and a plate of some sort of meat pie, he pilfered a royal blue robe and a yellow toga from the creature’s closet. He slipped the first over his head and shoved the second in his bag.

“Why do centaurs wear robes?”

They don’t. The clothing is for visiting sirens.

Sirens. Women who lured men to their deaths by singing. Of course. He should have known.

You can sleep here. The centaur will not mind.

“I prefer to find a spot in the woods.” Solitude was always safer. A long length of rope caught his eye, and Gray stuffed it into his backpack. “He wouldn’t happen to have bullets lying around, would he?”

No. No bullets.

“It was worth a shot.” He hiked his way back to the cobbled path, feeling more energized than he had in days. Darkness had faded even more, making way for a bright golden glow. Flowers opened their petals, carpeting the ground with all shades of pastels, from the barest lavender, to the daintiest yellow. Trees swayed with renewed life.

He spied several similarly robed people, their faces covered by their cloaks. Again, his first instinct was to whip out his knife and strike.

The sirens are as harmless as the nymph. Simply block. their voices from your mind.

Gray strode past the small group, and he met a woman’s gaze. She was pretty in a delicate, protect-me way, with pale skin and mossy green eyes. Despite her prettiness, he felt not a shred of attraction toward her. She opened her mouth, about to speak to him, and he quickened his speed, not about to let the sensuality of her voice lure him to his death.

When he was out of hearing distance, he said to Jewel, “You told me everyone here wants a piece of you. Now tell me why.”

I’m special, she evaded.

He opened his mouth to press her for more details, then closed it with a snap. She sounded so forlorn, on the brink of tears, and that knowledge unbalanced him for some reason. Made his stomach twist into several painful knots. Made his chest tighten and ache. She’d been impudent and bold up to this point.

“Do they hurt you? These people who hold you captive?”

I don’t want to talk about this. Her voice wavered.

Which meant, yes, they did. Fury pounded through him, scalding hot and blistering. Gray had done many unsavory things in his life, all in the name of patriotism, but he had never hurt a woman. He would if he had to, yes, had even considered silencing Jewel on his own, but he did not like the thought of anyone else hurting her. She seemed soft and delicate to him, in need of protection. Anyone who hurt a woman like that deserved pain. Lingering, torturous pain.

He’d already decided to spring Jewel from her prison, but his determination intensified, reaching new heights. No way in hell would he abandon her now. He’d save her or die trying.

There will be no dying on your part. Promise me.

“Of course there won’t. You might have missed the memo, but I’m invincible.”

Yeah. Right.

Another hour passed, this one in silence as they each mulled their own thoughts. All the while he climbed up a steep, dangerous mountain, fast losing his bout of energy.

Finally—God, finally—Jewel uttered the magic words his tired, exhausted body longed to hear.

You’ll be safe here.

Gray immediately tossed his bag onto the ground and made camp. Only when he lay atop his bedroll, the stolen yellow toga acting as his pillow, did he allow himself to drink in the scenery. He was perched atop the highest ledge of the mountain, overlooking a breathtaking vista of trees and flowers, and a waterfall that glistened like liquid pearls. So clear it was, he could see the mossy bottom.

Exotic birds with bright, colorful feathers soared around him, calling to one another in a symphony of squawks and cries. This was, quite possibly, the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld.

Above him arched the crystal dome, so close he had only to reach out to touch the glistening, jagged fixture. Seawater churned in every direction, splashing one way, then another, before dancing away. Foam and mist lingered determinedly as schools of fish swam past.

I’ll warn you if anyone approaches. Sleep well, Gray.

“I won’t let myself sleep deeply. I’ll know if anyone comes close to me.”

Whatever you say. A soft melody drifted through his mind, Jewel’s sexy voice lulling him to deep, deep sleep.

His eyelids grew heavy against the dawning brightness, and he yawned. Why fight it? Slowly he surrendered to nothingness, one final thought drifting through his mind: if today was only the beginning, getting to the end was going to be one hell of a ride.

Chapter Three

“OUT OF PARADISE and straight into purgatory,” Gray muttered as he maneuvered through a thick, cackling crowd of…people. He used the term loosely. Around him meandered bull-faced men (with actual fur!), women with skin that glowed and glittered—and who also dressed in scanty, see-through robes with more cleavage than a Playboy centerfold (which he only flipped through for the articles). They reminded him of the siren he’d encountered last night, pretty and delicate.

Giant, one-eyed Cyclopses shook the ground as they walked, and griffins, half lion, half bird, raced on all fours, growling and snapping at each other, their tails whipping from side to side. Overhead, birds flew—no. Not birds, he realized. They possessed grotesquely misshapen faces, female torsos with large—very large—breasts, and the body of a bird. Talons, wings and all. Harpies, that’s what they were. With beautiful breasts. Had he mentioned those?

He was truly hard up if female birds were turning him on. Maybe it was time to renew his subscription to Playboy. For the articles.

There were a few centaurs, half man, half horse like the sheep farmer, and each of them carried long, thick clubs. A pack of giggling horned children darted past him, throwing rocks at each other as they ran.

Jewel had navigated him down the mountain and into this—whatever it was. Town? Freak fest? He’d already checked in with home base, and now gripped his knife, careful to keep the dark metal hidden within the folds of his robe. Heat stretched from the crystal dome above like a too-tight rubber band, ready to crack and break at the first sign of pressure. Still, he was glad for his robe and hood. They blended him into the crowd quite nicely. And if anyone sensed his human blood, they gave no notice.

You made it, Jewel said, breathless with excitement. You really made it. The last was barely a whisper. The closer he’d drawn to this area, the more desperate she’d become for him to reach her.

“Finally,” he muttered. “Where am I?” A salty breeze at last stirred, whisking his hood around his face.

This is the central agora—market—for the Outer City.

Only then did he notice the vendors selling their wares. Gleaming linens, sparkling jewelry and—slaves. His eyes widened. A man with green scales instead of skin and red-rimmed eyes paced in front of a line of naked humanoid men, shouting about the merits of buying them, he’d bet. What he wouldn’t give to speak Atlantean. The slaves were well muscled and streaked with dirt and whip marks, and they each wore expressions of dismay, their cheeks flushed with humiliation as they stared down at the ground.

Gray’s hands flexed and relaxed, flexed and relaxed. He wanted to cut them loose, at least try to save them, but that wasn’t his mission and he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself. Maybe, after he found the jewel, he’d come back for them.

Those men are rapists, killers and thieves.

“Then they deserve what they get,” he said, losing all traces of pity. He turned away from them. The scent of fresh, succulent meats taunted his nose, and his mouth watered. Having eaten only one decent meal—the rest being fruits, nuts, and tasteless energy bars—in the past five days, he craved steak, so rare it mooed, with another steak on the side.

With a sexy serving wench, I’m sure.

“You got that right.”

She snorted. Since dragons control and protect the Inner City, outcasts and the more bloodthirsty races stay in this area. It’s why everyone here carries a weapon. No one trusts anyone else.

Gray intensified his guard. He even let his robe drop from his wrist, revealing the long length of his machete. Jewel was right. Everyone else had a weapon, and they weren’t afraid to show it. He’d stand out if he didn’t showcase his blade.

Someone pushed past him, jostling the backpack that was hidden under his robe and causing him to stumble forward. He growled, knife raised, ready to strike, but the bull-faced man never turned to engage.

Follow him. He’ll lead you to me.

Gray quickened his step, elbowing figures out of his way as he clambered past a tall, stone gate and toward a black crystal castle that swept a towering apex toward the dome. His gaze remained on the bull-man’s back. Anticipation unfurled in his stomach, then quickly spread through his veins.

This morning he’d finally admitted to himself that his desire to reach Jewel had less to do with his mission, and more to do with seeing her in the flesh. More than anything, he wanted to save this woman who had been his only companion for two days.

“Where are you?” he muttered quietly, not wanting the creatures surrounding him to hear his foreign tongue.

I’m at the top of the palace steps. Hurry. Gray, please hurry. I will only behere a few moments more. Iwanttosee you and know I’m not dreaming. That you’re really here.

He finally reached the bull-man and shoved him out of the way. Sweat beaded across every inch of his skin, trickling down and wetting his robe. He would have preferred to hold his gun, but there wasn’t much two bullets could do in a crowd this size. Since he hadn’t used the grenades, he had those, and would use them if necessary. He only hoped it didn’t come down to that kind of destruction.

Several beings grumbled when he continued to shoulder his way closer to the castle. Almost there. He’d see her any moment…

“What am I up against, Jewel? You never told me.” Even as he spoke, he scanned the area, searching for any signs of trouble. Searching for her. Someone stepped directly in his path, and he barreled into the man’s back, propelling him forward. Damn it, would this crowd never part? Would he never reach the steps?

I can feel your presence.

Strangely, he could feel hers. A warm, feminine energy pulsed inside him with greater intensity every step he took. Faster, faster, he strode, only then realizing she hadn’t answered his question.

And then, he forgot about his need for answers.

He was there, standing at the front of the crowd, his feet hitting the bottom of the steps. He stopped, but his gaze still moved, roving, searching, climbing the dirty, blood-soaked staircase. Where was she? His heart hammered inside his chest, nearly cracking his ribs with its fierceness. He couldn’t see her.

The centaur beside him pointed to the top left and whispered something to his female companion. Gray shifted his attention—and sucked in a shocked breath.

There she was.

He knew it was her, knew it was Jewel. And she was a stone fox. A bound stone fox, and seeing her arms tied over her head, the ropes anchoring her to a towering column, pissed him off royally.

A pristine robe draped her slender body, knotted at her right shoulder and just below her stomach. The long material hung loosely, both hiding and showcasing her curves as it billowed against her frame. Silky, jet-black hair cascaded down her back, a startling contrast against her virgin-white clothes. Even from here, he could see the creamy, flawless purity of her skin, skin that seemed to glisten like a pearl.

His stomach tightened—right along with the rest of him. In ever-growing anger at seeing her bound. In arousal at simply seeing her. Her face was as smooth and pure as his mother’s antique cameo. Not classically beautiful, but somehow so exquisite he ached simply from looking at her. Her lips were full and pink, deliciously pouty.

She was familiar to him, but he didn’t know where he’d seen her before. He only knew that he had seen her at some point in his life. How was that possible?

A black-robed man knelt in front of her, his head bowed. Too busy scanning the masses for Gray, she ignored him.

“I’m here,” Gray whispered. “Toward your left.”

Her chin snapped up and turned in his direction.

Their gazes collided.

He sucked in another breath, this one burning his lungs with the force of its sizzle. Her eyes were large, so large they dominated her face, and they were amazingly blue. Startlingly blue. Otherworldly blue. A shade so clear and deep he could easily lose his soul in their depths—and thank her for the loss. They hypnotized him.

“My God,” he said, unable to hold the words inside.

Her buttercup lips lifted in a dazzling smile, and that smile rocked him to the core, nearly laying him flat. Her teeth were straight and white. Perfect.

You’re even more handsome than I realized.

And she was lovelier than he ever could have guessed.

He watched as a scaled, yellow arm reached from behind her and nudged her in the shoulder. Her grin quickly faded. I’m sorry. I must finish my day’s work. She turned her attention to the kneeling man. Her rosy lips moved as she spoke to him, but Gray was too far away to hear what she said.

She closed her eyes, paused for a long, protracted moment, then spoke some more. The man was jerked up and hauled away, sobbing in relief.

Gray’s eyes narrowed, and his temper sparked to life. What was going on here? He forced himself to study the little details he had missed in his haste to see Jewel. A trio of demon guards stood behind her. Two small, sharp horns protruded from each of their scalps. Their noses were beaked, and their skin pulsed with a yellowish, scaly hue. Evil red eyes stared out at the crowd. None of them held a weapon, but then, they didn’t need weapons. Gray knew from experience that demons relied on their superior strength and speed, as well as their razor-sharp teeth to defend and attack.

A wave of shock worked through him as he realized exactly what he was seeing. This is what Jewel had meant when she told him it was only the beginning. She needed him to save her from an army of demons. Sure. No problem. Whatever.

Shit. “How many are there?”

She needed no explanation. More than I can count. I can make an escape plan for us, but I must wait until I’m alone.

Gray wasn’t sure he had enough firepower to beat such a large army. But damn it, he was here, and he wasn’t leaving without Jewel. He also knew he wasn’t going to wait on Jewel to make the escape plan. That happened to be one of his specialties.

A guard cut her ropes, and she sank into a heap on the ground. He yearned to race up the steps and sweep her away, but she was quickly scooped up and carried inside the castle.

“What’s going on? Where are they taking you?”

Silence.

“Jewel!” he shouted, and he didn’t care who heard him. “Answer me.”

Again, silence.

Damn it! He didn’t like this. Didn’t like not knowing. Didn’t like the feeling of helplessness working its way through him.

The crowd began to disperse, and he soon found himself alone, staring up at the black castle through slitted eyes. He released a heated sigh. “Be ready, babe. I’m coming in.”

“WHAT KNOW YOU of a portal that leads from Atlantis to the surface world?”

On her perch at the edge of the bed, Jewel blinked up at Marina, Queen of the Demons, and prayed her expression remained blank. “A portal?” She phrased the words as a question, though she already knew the answer.

“Darius of the Dragons has taken a human bride. I’ve heard the woman came to him through a portal located below the dragon palace.” Marina’s arms were crossed, and she drummed her long, sharp claws against her scaled forearms. The scent of sulfur emanated from her. “You spent several years with the dragons, so you should know if the portal exists. Does it?”

Lying, for Jewel, brought great physical pain. She didn’t know why, she only knew that it did happen. Horrendous, agonizing pain. The information Marina wanted was not information Marina needed. If she told the truth, bad things would happen to the dragons, a race of creatures she adored. But if she lied, bad things would happen to her.

Silence would not work. As always, Marina would threaten to kill an innocent for every minute Jewel remained silent. She would simply have to trick Marina into believing something different.

“Do you truly believe a cold and merciless warrior such as Darius en Kragin, King of the Dragons, would discuss a secret portal with me, knowing I would one day be stolen from him?”

Marina leveled a narrowed glance at her. “I’m onto your ways, girl. Answer with a question and your words are never lies. Not this time. You will answer me with a yes or a no. Understand?”

“What did I lie about?” she said, lifting her hands. “Darius is known throughout the land as a warrior whose only joy is killing. Tales of the deaths he’s inflicted abound. You know that as well as I.”

“That is not the information I wished from you, and well you know it. I’ll ask once more, and do not answer me with generalities and misdirections or you will suffer for it. Did Darius discuss a portal with you? Specifically,” Marina added, “a portal that leads from Atlantis to the surface world.”

Jewel frowned, gauging her next words very carefully. “I can honestly tell you that he never willingly supplied such information to me.”

The queen growled low in her throat, and the sound rippled menacingly from the walls. Marina paced, hands fisted at her sides. Her sheer, transparent robe revealed every outline of her body, every horn protruding from her back. Her green and yellow scales pulsed, and her eyes glowed bright red.

The woman was pure evil.

“You think you are so clever,” she grumbled. “Have you ever seen a portal?”

“I have never seen a portal with my physical eye.”

She paused midstride, catching Jewel’s meaning. Unfortunately. “Does that mean you have seen one in a vision?”

Trying again to lead Marina down a different path, she said, “If I had seen a portal in one of my visions, don’t you think I would have done whatever was necessary to return to the dragons? To find and enter the portal? I am tired of being stolen from one leader to the other. I would love to enter the surface world and lose myself in their masses.”

“Once again you refuse to answer as you were told,” she growled. “Because of your refusal, one of the prisoners that was released today will be found and killed. That will be your punishment. Now, do you care to rephrase your last answer?”

“Please,” Jewel said softly, regret, helplessness, and anger working through her. Of all the ways to be controlled, this was the worst. Knowing other lives, others’ suffering, revolved around her cooperation. “Please, do not do this.”

“I’ll take that as another refusal. Two will die this night. And know this, little slave. You do not have to worry about being stolen again because I plan to keep you for eternity. Whether that eternity feels as if you are in Olympus or Hades is up to you. Think on that, and we’ll speak again in the morning.” Marina stalked from the room, slamming and locking the door behind her.

The threat lingered in the air long after she’d gone, and a shudder racked Jewel. Marina always found a way to get what she wanted. Jewel longed to call her back, but pressed her lips together. The knowledge she possessed had the potential to destroy all of Atlantis.

She leapt to her feet and paced the confines of her chamber. Or rather, prison. A prison fairly bursting with anything and everything a woman could desire. Fluffy pillows spilled from the gold-wrought bed; brilliant sapphire-and-emerald dyed lambs’ fleece carpets adorned the marble floor. A large, heated bathing pool, canvas and paints, and a table piled high with mouth-watering food. All were here to keep her occupied, keep her thoughts away from escape.

She might have luxuriated in the room and its offerings if she were allowed an ounce of freedom. Instead, the queen kept her sealed inside. Jewel was only allowed out to hold court with the queen’s supposed enemies, where Jewel herself judged them friend or foe. Oh, she had tried to escape. Many times. She had always failed miserably—and others had been punished for her efforts. Still, she kept a satchel hidden and ready, just in case an opportunity arose.

“Just in case” might actually be tonight, she thought with a slow grin. Gray had promised to come for her, to save her. She needed to plan their escape route. Should have done it already, but had had no time alone.

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.

Jewel gasped. “What are you doing? Put me down!”

He shot back into motion. “You’re too slow.”

“This puts you at a disadvantage.” She slapped at his hard, muscled bottom. “Put me down this instant or I’ll stab you in the back!” Truth. She’d stab him with her nails, but he didn’t need to know that.

“I hadn’t realized you’d be so bloodthirsty.” He chuckled. “You wouldn’t let me hurt the centaur or the nymph, but you yourself attempted to kill a demon, and now you want to draw my blood. And if you don’t settle down, your feet are going to bruise my favorite body part.”

“Your penis?”

He made a choking sound in the back of his throat, and his feet nearly tripped over themselves. “Watch your mouth, Prudence. You shouldn’t talk like that.”

Watch her mouth? Watch her mouth! “Penis, penis, penis,” she muttered, but she stilled, her body bouncing over his shoulder.

Stone chips were scattered across the floor, and Gray kicked past them to rush through the wide, jagged hole that used to be a wall. He settled into the shadows whenever a demon flew past, doing his best to keep them out of view. When they found themselves alone again, he would jump back into motion. Her satchel pressed into his stomach. She directed him toward the center of the palace, toward the demon queen’s private pool.

Three sentinels awaited them.

Gray spied them and quickly settled her on her feet. “Stay here.”

She was getting sick of those words.

He sprinted in front of her. The guards’ evil red eyes narrowed hungrily. He didn’t slow. Gray grabbed a small, round object from a side pouch in his pants, pulled something thin and silver out of it with his teeth, then tossed it at the creatures.

“Down,” he commanded Jewel, turning and diving on top of her, propelling her to the ground. The moment she hit, Gray’s heavy weight crashed into her, and cut off her air supply.

Boom!

More jagged pieces of stone rained over them. More dark plumes of smoke. More hisses of fury as the demons were tossed into the air like play toys. Before they even hit the ground Gray was up and running toward them. Fire flickered around him, licking dangerously.

Coughing, eyes watering, Jewel shoved to her feet and raced after him. When the demons landed, Gray expertly killed two. Jewel didn’t hesitate. She knew what needed to be done. She gripped her knife and killed the third.

Demon blood splattered her clothing.

She’d never killed before. She’d attacked the other demon, yes, but she herself hadn’t been the one to render the deathblow. Now that she had…she stared down at the lifeless body. She expected to feel guilt or remorse; she’d always fought for the survival of the Atlantean races. But she felt neither of those emotions. Instead, she felt empowered. Like she had finally taken control of her life.

Gray grabbed her by the arm and whipped her around, his gaze dipping over her, scanning for injuries.

“Did you see me?” She couldn’t stop the slow grin that spread her lips. “I killed him. I really killed him.”

“Yeah, and you surprised the hell out of me.” Grudging pride laced his tone. He plucked the bloody dagger from her hand and sheathed it in his belt. “We can’t stay here. We need to find an exit. Fast.”

“We’ll use the pool.”

His gaze shot to his right, at the debris-covered water dappled by pinpricks of light from the flickering flames.

“We can swim to safety,” she said.

He frowned. “I hate to break it to you, babe, but I’m guessing that pool is only seven feet deep. All we can do in that is swim laps.” And have sex, his mind added, never far from the subject.

Hearing his unbidden thought, her cheeks warmed and her stomach knotted. This time he hadn’t been imagining any woman except her. Her. He’d pictured her naked and rosy, skin covered with droplets of water waiting to be licked away.

Tendrils of pleasure curled inside her veins, spreading like the fire around them. When she spoke, her voice cracked. “There’s a hatch on the bottom. A door that leads into the forest.”

He paused, considering her words. His frown deepened. “If the demons follow us inside the water—”

“I’ll make sure they do not.”

His mouth opened to ask how, but he shut it with a snap, changing his mind. “All right. We’ll swim.”

He stepped to the pool’s ledge, Jewel still close to his heels. Before he entered, he turned to her and said, “Take off your clothes.”

Her head snapped up, and she met his stare with wide eyes. “The demons will sniff you out soon and you want me to get naked?”

His mouth twisted in one of those wry smiles of his. “Silly girl. Can’t you read my mind?”

“Not always,” she grumbled. Like before, he had erected some sort of wall she couldn’t breach. It had to be him, but how he managed it, she could not fathom.

“Just so you know, Prudence, that thick material of yours will weigh you down in the water. Take it off.” As he spoke, he began removing his shirt.

She’d seen him naked a hundred times before, perhaps a thousand, but those visions of him had always been in her mind. Seeing him now, in the flesh, was so much more potent. She forgot her surroundings, forgot the danger, focusing only on the bronzed strength of his muscled, sinewy chest. His abdomen was chiseled into perfect rows of hardness.

“You can look all you want. Later,” he added. “Right now, Pru, you need to get naked.” He dropped his shirt and withdrew his dagger.

Her gaze still locked on him, she brought her shaky fingers to her waist and tried to untie the satchel.

“No time.” He sliced the ties with his knife. The satchel dropped to the ground with a thwack. In the next instant, he cut the shoulder straps of her robe. The white material swished to the floor, joining the satchel and leaving her in only a thin chemise.

Bending down, Gray grasped the robe and said, “Step out of it.”

The moment she complied, the robe was stuffed inside his bag, followed quickly by her satchel. All the while, he perused her up and down. His eyes were heated. What did he see when he looked at her? She gulped, too afraid to try to probe his mind to discover the truth.

His hands reached toward her and she felt their warmth as they neared her skin. What did he plan to do? He stopped just before contact.

He shook his head, and his gaze grew cold. Empty. “We need to get the hell out of Oz. Can you swim?”

It took a conscious effort to tug herself out of the sensuous spell he’d woven over her, but force herself out she did. “Yes.” Swimming was one of the few memories she possessed of her childhood. Frolicking many hours in sunshine and water. Laughing. Enjoying the day. Over the years, she’d forgotten how to laugh and enjoy, but she’d never forgotten how to swim.

“Just try to keep up with me,” she said, proudly tilting her chin.

His lips twitched. “Can you hold your breath for long periods of time?”

That, she didn’t know. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

“I’ll take that as a no,” he muttered. “Listen, I’ve trained in water. The key is to stay calm, to slowly release the air trapped in your chest. Understand?”

“I will not let you down.” She’d prove herself worthy and strong if it killed her.

Jewel entered the water with Gray right behind her. The wet warmth lapped at her skin, seeping past the thin garment she wore, making her shiver. A cloud of red swirled around Gray, his open wound coloring the water.

“I want you holding on to me at all times once we leave the pool,” he said. “Don’t let go for any reason.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“No, you’ll do it.” His voice whipped out like a king instructing a servant. “I want to know you’re with me every second we’re down there.”

“Yes, sir.”

He shook his head at her impudence. Without another word, she dragged in a breath and dove underwater.

She kicked her way to the bottom. Marina often used this secret doorway to sneak into the city undetected, commit her crimes, feast off unsuspecting creatures, then return. The queen thought she herself was the only one who knew. She should have realized long ago that with Jewel, there were no secrets.

Once they reached the bottom, Jewel grabbed for her dagger. When her hand encountered only wet cloth, she nearly panicked before she recalled Gray had taken it.

She jerked on his pants to gain his attention. A few bubbles slipped from his mouth as he faced her, and he nodded as she slipped the weapon from his belt. Gliding away from him she inserted the tip into a tiny crevice. Marina used a key, a key Jewel did not possess. She pried at the opening, making it widen slowly.

The water stung her eyes, and lack of air soon caused her lungs to burn. Her dark hair floated into her line of vision like curling ribbons. Gray worked feverishly beside her, his strong hands pushing the slab of rock farther and farther apart.

Both she and Gray had to go up for air before the opening was wide enough for them to slip through. Jewel wanted to swim to the surface one last time and steal another gasp of precious oxygen, but when she pushed up, she saw a horde of demons had entered the room. They spotted her and cried gleefully.

Ice filled her veins, and she sliced her way back to the bottom and pointed up. Gray saw them and tried to wrench her through the opening, but she violently shook her head. I have to keep them from following us.

He stilled. Had he heard her, or was the block still in place? Gray, deciding to trust her, released her and held his palms up. Do your thing, baby.

Thank the gods, no block. She closed her eyes, her thoughts directed at the creatures above. No one is in the water, her inner voice suggested to them. You do not see the human; you do not see the girl.

She’d never attempted to direct so many at once, never tried so valiantly to keep a being from knowing she’d entered its thoughts.

The shouting demons pressed their lips together, going silent. They stared down at the water, shaking their heads, their eyes glazing as they accepted her plea, but they didn’t leave the room. They looked around, confusion flittering over their expressions.

Why wouldn’t they leave?

Jewel’s strength was quickly depleting, and her hold on them began to lessen. Gray must have sensed her need for him because he yanked her through the opening and worked swiftly to close the hatch.

Whether the demons had seen them there at the end or not, Jewel didn’t know, and she no longer had the strength to find out.

She held a firm grip on Gray’s pants. Her lungs burned, and she desperately needed air, and even though her strength was nearly depleted, she kicked her legs and lowered her free arm, trying to increase their speed. A thick fog soon wove its way through her mind.

I can’t…need…to breathe…

Gray wrapped his arms around her, holding her close to him. His eyes met hers and the connection managed to strengthen her. Calm her. She’d been thrashing, she realized, but settled as his hand snaked around her neck.

Slowly he drew her face to his and their lips met. Open, he commanded. His voice filled her head, bringing with it a wealth of hope and confidence she eagerly embraced.

She did so without question, parting her lips wide.

He blew air into her mouth, precious air her lungs accepted with relief. The warmth of his breath curled through the rest of her as her black tresses floated around them, a dark cloak that wrapped them in a private haven. Time seemed to slow. She savored his sweet essence.

All too soon, he drifted a few inches away and met her gaze. Better?

Better.

You can do this. I know you can.

She nodded, praying he spoke true.

Chapter Five

JEWEL’S HEAD BROKE the water’s surface, her lungs screaming in pain. She gulped in great gasps of oxygen, her arms and legs flailing to keep her afloat. Pitch-black greeted her eyes, an unholy darkness filled only with phantomous shadows. Every inch of her burned for more air, and the burning eased only slightly with each intake. In, out, she breathed, as fast as her lungs would allow.

The choppy, frantic sounds must have disturbed nearby wildlife, because the clatter of snapping limbs, rustling bushes andpitter-pattering hoofbeats rang in her ears.

“Gr—Gray,” she called between pants, swallowing a mouthful of water. The liquid slid down her throat, cool and sweet, but it was too much, too fast. She choked and coughed.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice labored and hoarse as it sliced through the void. “Don’t try to talk. Just breathe. Slowly.”

Where was he? She’d lost her grip on him somewhere along the way. The darkness around them wasn’t thinning and she couldn’t feel him near her. “Tr-trying.”

“You’re talking again. Stop,” he demanded.

“I need you,” she croaked. “Where are you?”

He must have followed the drum of her voice, silently treading through the restless water until he found her. His arm brushed her stomach, and she shivered, resisting the urge to grab onto him and ascertain he truly was there.

“You okay? Since you won’t obey a direct order, you might as well give me the info I crave.”

“Yes.” The sound of lapping water beat between each syllable. “You?”

“I can’t see shit, but I’m fine.” He sounded relieved, concerned and angry all at once. “Think you can make it to shore? Wherever the hell the shore is,” he added darkly.

“Of course.” Determination rode her hard, and she said, “I can make it.” The words were for her benefit rather than his.

She must not have sounded convincing. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling her into the curve of his body. “Just keep breathing, and I’ll do the rest.”

“No, I—”

“Save your strength for an argument you can actually win.”

The feel of him holding her, his strength surrounding her, was a heady thing, but the thought of lying back and allowing him to do all the work…No! She might love the feel of his arms around her, and she might teeter on the brink of total exhaustion, but she kicked and paddled with him, adding to their speed.

“Sometimes,” she said between breaths, “an argument…can be won…without words.”

“Smart ass. Don’t you know you’re making me look bad? I, man, do the rescuing. You, woman, do the eager accepting.”

Jewel grinned, loving the way he teased her. It made her feel normal, accepted. As if she was his friend, not just a woman watching him from afar, wishing she were part of his life. Besides, set apart from the Atlantean races as she was, she’d never had a true friend before. But she’d wanted one. Gods, she’d wanted one. At times, the ache had been so fierce, it had almost been a living entity.

“That is not how our rela—” Sharp pains shot through her calf like a thousand knives cutting through bone. She jerked and cried out.

Gray’s arm tightened around her, and they ceased moving forward, his leg movements the only thing keeping them above water. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, concern in the undercurrents of his voice.

“Just a cramp,” she gritted out, her leg already relaxing.

Expelling a relieved breath, he jolted back into motion, his muscles bunching and straining. “You’re doing great. But listen to me this time, and stay still.” He spit out a mouthful of water. “I’ve done this kind of rescue before, and with a two-hundred-pound man no less. Featherweight that you are, I can get you to shore, no problem.”

“I will help.”

“Damn it, Jewel.”

She forced her arms to swim more quickly.

“Stubborn woman,” he muttered. “Have it your way.”

“I will. Thank you.”

His legs kicked out and brushed hers. His free arm pushed at the water and skimmed over hers. Because of the danger, such an innocent contact shouldn’t have affected her, but it did. Currents of something dark and light, hot and sweet, floated through her blood as swiftly and surely as the river flooded around her, giving her added strength.

“Thank you for coming for me,” she said, swallowing more liquid. The words whispered from her, soft and raspy, husky with her gratitude.

“I wish I could say it was my pleasure, but so far the adventure has sucked like a Hoover.”

She laughed heartily.

The water slapped as if he’d whipped his head to face her. She wished there were at least a kernel of light to reveal his actions and features, but the darkness was simply too heavy.

He squeezed her waist. “I didn’t expect you to get that. Do you even know what a Hoover is?”

“Well, yes. I know a lot of things about the surface.”

“You ever traveled there?”

She heard his true question: do Atlantean creatures travel to the surface? “I’ve never been, no. None of us have. It’s forbidden, not to mention impossible. I’ve only seen it in my visions.” Visions of him. She’d wondered why she’d been gifted with glimpses of his life, but the answer had never come. Finally she’d stopped wondering and just accepted the fact that he was meant to be part of her life. They were connected.

He huffed out a moist breath. “Impossible how?”

“Just impossible,” she hedged. “I admit I’ve always dreamed of visiting the surface.” She couldn’t hide her edge of wistfulness. “You have so many fascinating things there.”

“Yeah? Like what?” Fatigue was beginning to layer his words, making them drag slightly. “Exactly what does Prudence Merryweather find fascinating? This I’ve got to hear. Wait. The water is becoming more shallow,” he said. “We’re almost to shore. See if your feet touch.”

Her legs sank toward the bottom until her feet hit a soft, mossy foundation. “Yes! I can touch.” Limbs almost too weak to support her, she labored onto the sand, trudging step by step.

Finally she collapsed atop a soft bed of foliage. Water poured from her as she smoothed sopping hair out of her eyes. Gray dropped beside her. The ragged sound of their breathing blended with the gentle rush of the river. Gods, they had made it.

They had escaped the demons.

Several minutes passed in raw silence. She could have closed her eyes and drifted to sleep—would have drifted to sleep, if Gray hadn’t picked up their conversation where they’d left off.

“What do you find fascinating about the surface?” He was only a little winded. “This land of yours is amazing. It’s littered with evil incarnate, true, but the sheer beauty of the terrain is awe-inspiring.”

She shivered as a wave of cool air brushed her. “I’d trade every flower and tree for the chance to sit inside a theater and watch a movie. To anchor myself in a hoodless car and soar down the road, the wind in my hair. To wiggle on a waterbed and smoke a cigarette. To taste a—”

“Whoa, there.” He chuckled, the sound rich and smooth with his amusement. “Back it up a minute. Waterbed? You live in water, in case you hadn’t noticed, and you think a waterbed is cool? And why the hell would you want to smoke a cigarette? They taste like a demon smells.”

Her cheeks heated with a blush, and she was suddenly glad for the darkness. Gray hadn’t thought cigarettes tasted so horrible the night she’d seen one of his women smoke one. He’d just finished making love to her, and the two had been lying on a waterbed, the sides lapping around their sweat-soaked limbs. The woman’s pretty features had been totally relaxed, euphoric even, as the smoke wafted around her. Gray had appeared equally sated, not the least disgusted by the supposedly ashy fumes.

“I’m waiting for some type of explanation, Smoky Smokerson.”

“People seem to enjoy them, that’s all. And as for the waterbed, well, I’d like to know how it feels to lie on a bed of liquid and never sink.”

“They’re hell on the back.”

“Who says I’d be sleeping?” she said primly.

He snorted, and she had to curb the urge to kick him. Did he think she couldn’t tempt a man? That she couldn’t seduce one into loving her body madly and passionately?

“My guess, Prudence, is that you’d be bundled up in a neck-to-ankle body stocking, complete with chastity belt and semiautomatic trained on any man stupid enough to try and get into your panties.”

“That’s not true! I’d have a lover with me. And we’d be naked,” she added with a defensive edge.

“Would you now?” He drawled the words slowly, dragging out each syllable, making her feel achy inside. “And what would the two of you be doing, being naked and all?”

She knew Gray liked to linger over a woman’s body, taking his time and learning every nuance, every scent. Gods knew how many times she’d seen him do it, wishing it were her he was pleasuring. She drew on that knowledge now, the only sensual knowledge she possessed.

Trying for a casual tone, she said, “I’d caress my hands over his chest and back, of course, while he kissed me. With tongue. His fingers would slide between my legs, sinking inside me, moving in and out while I arched my hips. And I’d be so, so wet. And when I screamed his name, begging him to fuck me—”

“Did you just drop the F bomb?” he asked, incredulous, cutting her off.

“Yes. He’d lick my breasts, sucking my nipples into his mouth, and impale me with his thick, hard penis. I would wrap my legs—”

“That’s enough!” Gray’s body couldn’t take much more. He was rock hard and tense, ready to explode. Just from her words. When had that ever happened? He cleared his throat and flopped to his back. “Christ, I get the picture. And I’m seriously considering renaming you Blaze Champagne.”

There, she thought smugly. Now he’d never again call her Prudence or assume she wouldn’t know what to do with a man in bed. “What kind of name is Blaze Champagne?” She already knew the answer. She wanted him to say it, though, to hear the words aloud.

“The naughty kind reserved for porn stars, that’s what. Fuck me, indeed.”

A wide smile lifted her lips. “Have I offended your innocent ears? If so, you can just fuck off, Mr. Monk.” Being naughty was more fun than she ever could have imagined. She hadn’t felt so lighthearted in—ever.

“Jesus. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“My mother’s dead.” She said it simply, merely stating a fact.

“God, Jewel, I’m sorry.” Contrite, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around her forearm, squeezing gently. The heat of his grip banished any lingering cold caused by the wind. “I never would have said that if I’d known.”

“It happened so long ago, I barely remember her.”

“Still, I shouldn’t have said it and I’m sorry.”

His hand left her, and she heard the zip of his bag, a rustle of movement, a crack—almost like glass breaking. A golden glow of light erupted, surrounding them in a luminescent halo. Gray held a long, thin tube, she saw, eyelids closing to half-mast to dim the bright rays.

“What is that?” The object fascinated her, as she’d never seen its like. It looked as if he were holding pure fire in his hands.

“It’s got a technical name, but I just call it a glow stick.” Gray’s gaze met hers, and he claimed her fascination. The cloth he’d worn on his head had slipped off, so his pale hair was plastered to his scalp. Streaks of green and black paint remained on his cheeks, but most of it had washed away.

Droplets of water trickled from his forehead to his nose, then onto the leaves. His lashes were black and spiky, his eyes a liquid silver, as mesmerizing as the water itself. Her gaze devoured him.

He smoothed away a dark strand of hair from her cheek. His fingers were callused but, oh, so gentle. The night air should have made her miserable by this point, but the chill barely touched her wet body. A growing sense of warmth and lassitude wove through her, starting exactly where he’d touched her.

As he studied her, his lips dipped into a frown. “Have we met before? I mean, sometimes when I look at you, I’d swear I’ve seen you before.”

She’d dreamed of just such a circumstance, of meeting him; she’d wanted it, craved it, but the answer was an unequivocal no. “I promise you, we have never met in person until this night.”

“Still.” He shrugged away the mystery. “Be honest. Are you really all right?”

“Yes. Promise. How do you feel?” She longed to reach out and trace her fingers over his face.

Had the poisons begun weakening him yet?

The question popped into her mind, reminding her that they had not yet escaped all danger. Had the demon and vampire poison already begun to interweave, clashing together, fighting for dominance? Destroying Gray little by little?

Nausea churned in her stomach, rising to fill her throat. She could not let this wonderfully alive man die. There had to be a way…something to do…but at the moment, no miraculous answer came to her.

Arms stretching over his head, he twisted each vertebra of his spine. “I’m good to go. Stronger than ever.”

He did look healthy and capable, his skin bright with color, his eyes sparkling. Maybe the venoms wouldn’t affect him, she thought hopefully. Maybe she worried for nothing.

“Come on,” he said. “We’ve hung around here too long. We need shelter ASAP.”

He pushed to his feet with the agility of a jungle cat and readjusted his bag over his shoulder, one hand continuing to keep the glow stick elevated, lighting the surrounding area.

She, too, pushed up, her movements a bit slower and less sprightly than his. As she shifted her weight to her feet, her knees shook. Dizziness struck her, and she massaged her fingertips into her temple.

Gray wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her up. “Lean on me.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said, stepping from him. Gods, he’d felt so good, but she would not be a hindrance. He’d had enough of those in his life. At last her vision cleared, and she said, “I can lead us to shelter. Follow me.”

“With pleasure. Your robe is sticking to your skin, so I can see the outline of your a—”

“Gray!”

He chuckled.

“Your gaze better remain straight ahead.”

“Ah, come on. Cage Prudence, and let Blaze come out and play.”

Smothering a laugh, Jewel moved in front of him, her hands covering the object in question. “We’ll need to stay along the river’s edge.”

“Take your time. I’ll just be enjoying the view. Your fingers don’t hide anything, baby.”

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