Gena Showalter: The Vampire's Bride

Almost upon them…almost…he slammed into an invisible barrier.

Every bone in his body vibrated from the impact, and that cursed dizziness again swept through him. He blinked in confusion, lifted his arms and pressed at the air. What in Hades? There was some sort of…shield?

Yes, yes, he realized. That's exactly what it was. Clear, unseen, and yet solid, preventing him from moving another inch. He banged his fists against it, but it held steady. He clawed at it, but it did not crack. No, it snapped two of his nails from their beds, causing blood to flow down his hands. He rammed his shoulder into it, nearly dislocating the bone, but the shield did not even shake.

Damn this! He would not be denied. Would lose a limb if necessary. What did physical pain matter when faced with such a delightful outcome? As he threw his body against the barrier over and over again, he glared at his still-sleeping enemies. Never had a time been more ripe for vengeance. Soon…

Next to the dragons were two Amazons, one of whom happened to be his bloodthirsty, blue-haired wench. Not mine, he corrected instantly, fervently. But he couldn't deny the sight of her caused his breath to heat and singe his lungs. Couldn't deny his blood quickened.

As he'd fallen through that dark void, he'd heard her raspy voice and had grabbed on to her limp body. She'd been warm and soft, a torment to him. And yet, he'd been oddly protective of her, cradling her against him, marveling at her sea-kissed scent as he recalled the way she'd looked at him on the battlefield, as if he were a miracle and a devil wrapped in the same tempting package.

He didn't recall letting go of her, yet they had clearly been parted. Now, he drank her in when he should have looked away.

She appeared rumpled, as if she'd fallen asleep after a vigorous hour of lovemaking and had only now awakened for more. Her eyes were slightly uptilted, the lids at half-mast and shadowed by long dark lashes. Her nose was small and dainty, her lips still red and lush. And her skin…more was revealed, smooth, amber-rich, each pulse point hammering deliciously. A large bruise covered the left side of her jaw. Her breasts—

Do not think of her like that, you disgusting pile of dragon droppings. Females were off-limits to him.

Layel tore his gaze from the Amazon and renewed his study of the other creatures, only then realizing he'd stopped pounding at the air shield. All were beginning to stir, sitting up and rubbing their faces. He might not be able to reach them—yet—but he could hear them. Moaning soon overshadowed the hum of the waves.

There were two nymphs, a male and a female, pushing to a stand and staring at the beach of creatures in confusion. Around them were one pair each of minotaurs, demons, centaurs, formorians and gorgons, the snakes atop the latter's heads hissing and baring fangs much sharper than Layel's. Two of each race. Why two?

What in Hades is going on? he wondered yet again.

The Amazon scrubbed a hand over her delicate face, barely painted now with the remnants of swirling blue designs. Those designs etched onto her temples didn't smear. Were they tattoos? She was blinking, as though she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.

You're looking at her again. He growled and returned his attention to the dragons, his rage intensifying. He shoved at the invisible wall. Still there, still unyielding. His fingers were bloodied and tattered now, nearly useless. His shoulder was completely out of its joint.

He needed to think, to plan. More than that, he needed to find shade. What skin was bared now felt as if it were blistered. Probably was. Hating the thought of retreat, hating himself, he edged backward, trying not to draw unwanted attention as he stopped beside Zane and crouched, gripping the vampire's shoulders and shaking.

Zane's eyelids popped open and he hissed, swinging a claw in reflex. Quick as a heartbeat, Layel bowed his back, managing to evade a fatal slice to the throat. "Calm," he commanded quietly.

Seconds passed as the vampire oriented himself. "What happened?" Zane demanded roughly, on his feet a moment later. The consummate warrior, he braced his legs apart as his hands fisted at his sides, prepared to initiate battle. His eyes were dark, flat, and he looked hungry for blood. Like Layel's, his skin was red, beginning to blister.

"I'm not sure." Layel rose and motioned to the others with a tilt of his chin. "One moment we were fighting, the next we were not."

"What is this place?" Zane's gaze circled the surrounding area. "Why do I feel as though I'm on fire?" He patted himself down, snarled. "And where are my weapons?"

Something Susan had said long ago, after they'd made love out in the open, under Atlantis's sparkling dome, suddenly drifted through Layel's mind. His mouth fell open in astonishment. I wish we could travel to the world of my people. Just for a little while. With all the stories my family used to tell me, I think we would love it.

He'd held her tighter, afraid she'd somehow slip through his fingers. Tell me about it.

She had, in great detail, as if she'd already visited it in her dreams. A seemingly never-ending expanse of blue—sky. Fat, puffy white masses—clouds. A glowing orange ball—the sun.

"I think…I think we are on the surface world." How? Why? "I know we could tolerate the daylight under the dome, but the sun's light must be stronger. Harsher. And the weapons? Vanished."

"Surface?" Zane's mouth fell open in a mirror of Layel's expression.

"We must find shade. Now."

"Our battle—"

"Can wait."

Together they backed up, neither willing to give the other creatures their backs, shield or not, and moved into the thicket of trees. Instantly Layel's body cooled.

He sighed. "We will remain in the forest until we figure out what's going on." Even if that meant avoiding the dragons. Right now they seemed to have the advantage, the sun caressing them like lovers rather than hated foes.

"We should make new weapons," Zane said.

"Yes." But he didn't move another inch. Could barely form a coherent thought. The blue-haired Amazon had just popped to a stand, her eyes wild. She reached for something at her waist—probably a blade—found nothing, and scowled. Like him, like Zane, she patted herself down. Also like the both of them, she found herself completely unarmed.

Someone had taken all their weapons.

He watched as she spun in a circle, studying, gaping. When she spotted the other Amazon, she rushed forward.

"Nola!" she cried, so loudly Layel had no trouble hearing her from his new sanctuary. She bent down, locks of silky hair tumbling over her shoulders, and shook her sister.

The dark-haired female moaned and rubbed at her forehead, eyelids cracking open. "Delilah?"

Delilah. The name played through his mind. Delilah…Delilah…soft, feminine, exotic. A name that bespoke midnight fantasies and insatiable passion. A name that could send the strongest of men to their knees. When the thought registered, Layel stiffened. I will never speak that name aloud, he vowed. Too…dangerous.

"I'm here," the woman in question said. "Right here."

The one called Nola massaged her temples, her lips pulled in a tight, pained frown. "What happened?"

No doubt it was a question everyone on the beach would ask.

"I wish I knew." Delilah looked left and right, searching again, gauging, and then she was staring over at Layel, the shadows nothing to her.

The force of that violet gaze jolted him. Made his muscles jump. For a moment, he was light-headed again and there was a pain in his chest, exactly where his heart resided, as though it were once again healthy and whole. How was she doing this?

Apparently he wasn't the only one suffering a strange response. The Amazon's pulse pounded in her neck—he couldn't see it, but he could sense it, hear it—every erratic beat like a summoning finger. His mouth watered, preparing to feast even though he had gorged himself during battle. When he sank his teeth into that woman he would…His jaw clenched painfully. What are you doing? You will never taste her. Since Susan's death, the only blood he allowed himself was the blood of his enemies. And the supply was vast. He was never without, didn't need to take from anyone else.