"That alone would not-"
"That alone would . The palace has been made into an ice land. When our strength was drained, the humans attacked us with their weapons." She remembered how easily her people had been destroyed. One moment, healthy, happy and whole. The next, gone. Murdered.
Her hands clenched, making the sharpness of her claws bite into her flesh. She barely felt the sting. Why the humans kept her alive and imprisoned, she could only guess. A threat to Alex, perhaps? A bargaining tool? They had kept her weakened by the cold, had tried to keep her hungry, as well, but she'd stolen bits of food here and there. More than anything, however, the humans had kept her frightened. For herself, for Alex.
She would not rest until the intruders were destroyed.
She had loved her husband, had loved the time she spent with him, and even missed him, but he had never filled her with such great longing as Alex did, as if she couldn't breathe without him near. She sighed. What was she going to do with the handsome human? She wanted him to stay here, with her. Wanted him to hold her in his arms every night, and wake to his kisses every morning. If he wouldn't stay, she would lose him. She could not survive on the surface.
The sound of guttural curses sliced at her reverie.
"You are not welcome here, dragons," a vampire snarled.
"We came for the human and the woman," Vorik said calmly. He kept his hands over the hilts of his swords-swords that could pierce a vampire's chest, sending poison through the creature's body and striking a lethal blow. "We mean you no trouble."
"We claimed them first. They belong to us."
"Perhaps you'd like to fight us for them." Coal offered his opponents an anticipatory smile.
"That is an invitation we cannot refuse." The vampire offered his own anticipatory smile.
Dragons were stronger, but vampires were faster. Years ago, the two had warred and the dragons had emerged the victors. But both races had suffered horribly. If they fought now, Teira was not sure a single man would be left standing.
"Let them go," a vampire said to his brethren, surprising her. "These dragons will bow to us soon enough."
"We will never bow to you," Braun spat.
The words, "We shall see," were delivered with supreme confidence. "Yes, we shall see."
Vorik arched a brow. "We shall see now ."
Without emitting a single sound, the dragons flew at the vampires, teeth bared and gleaming a hungry white, a vision of silent death as they transformed from man to beast. They dropped their swords, relying instead on their natural reflexes. Vampires moved quickly, gliding to the ceiling, then launching themselves at the dragons before gliding upward once again. It was a dangerous dance.
There were snarls and grunts of pain, the sound of ripping cloth. The flash of claws, and the scent of blood and sulfur.
"The stench of dragon can be smelled miles away," one of the vampires snarled, lashing out with his sharp nails as he slipped past.
"Since you can smell me, Aarlock, you might as well feel my flames." Vorik spat red-orange sparks out of his mouth, catching the vampire in the side.
A tormented scream erupted, blending with the sound of sizzling skin. Eyes glowing with hatred, the vampire retaliated, attacking straight on, fangs bared. Before Vorik had time to move, their bodies slammed together and Aarlock sank his teeth in Vorik's neck.
Vorik gripped him by the neck, ripped him away, and tossed him to the ground.
"I see you still bite like a girl, Aarlock," he seethed.
"I see you still breathe like a hatchling."
They were on each other again.
"Hand me a dagger," Alex said to Teira over his shoulder. When the fight first began, he'd shoved her behind him. He didn't know if he'd be any help, but he couldn't let these dragon men fight alone. He had to do something .
She tried to maneuver around him for what seemed the hundredth time. The woman wanted to guard him instead of the other way around. "No," she said. "We must not interfere. We would only distract them."
Alex continued to search for a weapon, catching glimpses of the brawl at the corner of his gaze. Each of the species fought hard and cruel, biting and slashing. The dragons drew blood with teeth, claws and tails, while the vampires relied on speed, moving from one end of the bar to the other. Their rusty-brown blood dripped onto the dragons, acting like acid.
In the end, speed and poison blood weren't enough.
The more fire the dragons produced, the stronger they became. Even Teira seemed to soak up the heat like a flower turning to the sun. All color had returned to her cheeks. Alex wiped at the sweat dripping from his face.
When the battle finally ended, burning embers and vampire ashes littered the ground. Braun, Vorik, and Coal were still standing. They were covered in blood and wounds, but by God, they were standing.
One of the dragons, Braun, pushed Alex outside. The others, Teira included, followed. She quickly made the introductions. Alex had never been more aware of his human frailty. The men he knew did not behave like these warriors, ready and eager for bloodshed.
"What do the humans at the palace want, Teira?" Vorik asked.
"The riches. They are taking them back to the surface."
"Damn this," Coal snarled. He threw a withering glance toward Alex.
Alex backed away, palms up. "I'm not with them. I'll help you in any way I can."
"He was a prisoner, like me." Teira met each man's stare. "Are there other warriors with you? Can we retake the palace tonight?"
Braun shook his head. "We cannot act until Darius returns. Our orders are to stay outside of the palace, detaining any who try to enter or leave."
Vorik frowned down at her. "The time for war will come, and then we will act. Until then, we do nothing." His gaze became piercing. "Understand?"
"When will Darius return?" she demanded. "I am eager for vengeance."
Ignoring her question, Coal exchanged a concerned glance with Braun. "As are we. As are we."
Jason Graves studied the vampire stronghold with assessing eyes. While this fortress lacked the same magnitude of wealth as the dragon palace, it held enough to capture his attention. Silver walls. Gold inlaid floors. A violet ram's fleece rug.
Perhaps he needed to rethink his alliance with the vampires.
They had supplied the tools necessary to strip the dragon walls of their jewels, as well as the location of coins and other treasures. And in return, Jason was to slaughter the dragons. A good bargain, in his estimation. Or so he'd thought. He was beginning to suspect that the moment the dragons were exterminated, the vampires would feed off of him and his men, the alliance forgotten. He swallowed, allowing the idea of striking first to take root in his mind. That way, he would not only save his own life, but also gain vampire riches. He had heard they knew where to find the greatest treasure of all. The Jewel of Atlantis. A powerful stone, granting the owner unimaginable victories.
Right now, his unlikely allies knew that any human wearing a medallion was to be left alone. Jason had made it clear in the beginning that if one of his men were harmed, just one, he would join forces with the dragons instead.
That threat would no longer work when the dragons were gone.
"You have defeated Javar," Layel, the vampire king, said. He stroked deathly pale fingers over the seam of his lips and leaned back in his throne. A throne comprised of human bones. "It is time for you to defeat Darius, as well."
"We haven't emptied out the first palace yet," Jason hedged. He stood in the center of the room and shifted nervously. He hated coming here and never stayed longer than necessary. Knowing his men waited outside the throne room doors, weapons cocked and ready, did not soothe his unease. Layel could have his neck ripped open before he managed a single scream for help.
"No matter. I want them killed immediately." The king slammed a fist onto his armrest-a femur, Jason thought. "The dragons have kept my people oppressed for hundreds of years. They must die."
"And they will. We just need a little more time. I cannot divide my forces, and I will not leave the first palace until it is completely emptied."
Heavy silence encompassed them.
"You dare tell me no?" Layel said quietly.
"Not no, exactly. I'm merely asking you to have more patience."
Layel slowly ran his tongue over his razor-sharp teeth. "I knew you were greedy, human. I didn't know you were also stupid."
Jason scowled. "You are more than welcome to fight the dragons on your own." He didn't need the vampires anymore-he already possessed the tools. But they both knew Layel still needed him. Jason might be intimidated by this creature, but damn if he didn't enjoy what small power he held over him.
Intense fury blazed in Layel's eerie blue eyes. "How much longer?" he ground out.
"A week. Two at most."
"That is too long! The only reason you were able to defeat Javar was because you surprised him. Without that surprise, you will not defeat Darius." In a hiss of rage, Layel hurdled his jeweled goblet at Jason's head.
Jason ducked and the cup sailed past him. Barely.
"He is stronger than his tutor ever was," Layel said.
Jason glared up at him, a heated retort pressed at the gate of his lips. The doors burst open before a single word escaped.
One of his men ran inside. "Alex and the female escaped."
"What!" Jason shouted, spinning.
"Word arrived only seconds ago. They escaped through the forest."
"How?" Scowling, he strode toward his man and met him halfway.
"We aren't sure."
"Damn it! Search the forest. I want him found within the hour and brought back to me."
"Alive?"
"If possible. If not "
The man hastened to do as he was bid.
Jason stood there, grinding his teeth. A part of him didn't care that Alex had escaped. The bastard would probably be found and killed by any number of vicious creatures. But the other part of Jason, the part that acknowledged wars could be lost by a simple mistake such as this, recognized the damage that could be done. Alex could stumble upon Darius, could warn him.
"Jason," Layel said.
The hairs prickled at the base of his neck, and without looking, he knew the vampire king was directly behind him. Jason slowly turned, hoping his features remained emotionless. "Yes?"
"Two days. I want Darius and his army destroyed in two days."
CHAPTER 18
Hours ticked by as Grace thinned the carpet in her tiny living room, pacing back and forth, from one wall to the other. The hallway had fallen silent half an hour ago. Every time she blinked, she pictured Darius sitting just beyond her front door, his eyes closed, expression pensive, his mind thinking of ways to leave her behind. She scowled. Darius might travel home in the morning, but not without her. Whether he approved or not, she was going.
Pushing out a breath, Grace rubbed her temples. Her shoulders slumped dispiritedly. What am I going to do ? Beneath her frustration with Darius hovered a constant fear for Alex, and she knew that was the true catalyst to her riotous emotions. Helplessness ate her because she knew there was nothing she could do but wait and pray Darius was right. That Jason Graves would keep Alex alive because her brother had something he wanted.
The medallion.
She laughed humorlessly. It always came back to that.
If she'd suspected the true value of that damn chain, she would have held on to it tighter. Where the hell was it?
She needed Darius. She needed him to reassure her. She needed him to wrap his arms around her and reaffirm wrongs would be righted and life would continue with promises of pleasure and happiness.
"Darius," she said in frustration. What was he doing?
The air in front of her thickened and blurred, sparkling with crystallized raindrops. A whisper of heat, a waft of masculine scent, then Darius materialized right before her eyes. His features were taut as his gaze darted left and right. "What is wrong?"
"I need you," she said. "I need you. That's all."
His visage relaxed, fraying his worry but leaving behind lines of tension.
Their gazes locked. She stood frozen, drinking him in. More than strained, he looked changed. Different somehow. Sexier than ever before. Scorching. Needy. He sensed her growing desire, perhaps, because his nostrils flared and his eyes lit with fire.
Grace's heart flip-flopped in her chest. Darius didn't resemble the man who accosted her in the cave, a sword raised over his head, death in his gaze. Nor did he resemble the man who had nearly choked the life from Patrick. Right now he reminded her of the man who found delight in colors and chocolate, who had tenderly kissed her lips, savoring her every nuance. He had licked her palms and soothed her bruises.
Oh, God, how she wanted this man.
But guilt swam through her, locking her in place. How could she want him, enjoy him, when Alex was hurt?
"You cannot help your brother right now," Darius said, as if divining her thoughts. His gaze reached across the space between them, caressing her with quiet strength.
"I know," she said softly, yearning for him all the more. She tried to absorb his comfort from a distance, but that wasn't what she needed. Only full-body, skin to skin contact would work.
He stretched out his hand. "Then come here."
Without another word, Grace launched herself into Darius's arms. He caught her with a humph and banded his arms around her waist, anchoring his hands on her bottom and backing her into a wall. Instantly he smothered her mouth with a kiss. No, not a kiss. A devouring. He worshipped her taste, and she reveled in his, and as their tongues danced, she became a part of him. He became a part of her. She moaned, and her legs tightened around him.
He pulled away. "I will not stop this time," he said raggedly.
"Good, because I wasn't going to let you."
He trapped her earlobe between his teeth and gently tugged. The time had come; the wait was over.
One hand cupping his neck, the other kneading his back, she fit herself against his erection. The contact sizzled. A tremor moved through her, leaving a desperate arousal in its wake. He reclaimed her lips in total possession, branding her very soul.