contact with your brother, nor does anything bind me to him.'
Alex's image began to waver just as a woman approached him. She was the most beautiful woman Grace had ever seen. Where Alex was long and lean, the woman was small and delicate with flowing silvery-blond hair. Pixie features, porcelain skin. She crouched beside him and gently shook his shoulders.
'Who is that?' Grace demanded sharply.
Darius narrowed his focus. 'That is Teira,' he said, an undercurrent of incredulity in his tone. 'Javar's wife.'
'I don't care whose wife she is, as long as she leaves my brother alone. Is she cruel? Will she hurt him? What's she doing to him?'
Just as quickly as it appeared, the image faded completely.
'Bring them back,' Grace commanded.
'The medallion shows me a vision for only a small period of time, and never the same person more than once.'
No. No ! She controlled the urge to stomp her foot, to whimper. To cry. 'Take me to Alex.'
'I wish that I could, but I do not know the surface.'
'You said you found me because we're connected. I can give you one of Alex's belongings. Or a photograph of him.' Nearing a point of desperation, she jerked out the photo of Alex from her pocket and wrapped Darius's fingers around the folded edges. 'You can connect with this and find him.'
'That is not how my powers work, Grace.' There was no emotion to him now. He'd reverted to his indifferent, unperturbed self, the part of him she so longed to shatter. Blue eyes hard and cold, he set the photo aside.
A single tear slowly ran down her cheek. 'You have to help me.' Gripping the fabric of his shirt, she said, 'He's sick. I don't know how long he's gone without food or water. I don't know what that woman planned to do to him.'
'Teira will not hurt him. She is ever gentle and caring.'
'He needs me .'
'I have given you my word that I will help you find him while I am here. Do not doubt me.'
'I don't doubt that you'll help me, Darius,' she said brokenly. Hollowly. She stared up at him with watery eyes. 'I just wonder if we'll get to him in time.'
At that moment, Darius knew she meant Atlantis no harm. Knew she only wanted her brother safe and whole. Her emotions were too raw. Real. He hated himself for it because he could not let that change his purpose. He might loathe the man he'd become, the man he willingly was-a killer and a user-but that changed nothing.
When Grace learned that he was helping her only to destroy Alex, as well as Grace herself…
Tensing, he forced his mind on the matter at hand. Why was Teira with a human? Where were they being held? Their cell was a surface dwelling, yet Alex had been bitten by a vampire-a fact Darius wouldn't tell Grace.
The female dragon's presence added a new complication. Was she prisoner or captor? A loving woman who possessed a sweet nature and giving heart, she would not make a good captor. Yet Javar would never allow his wife to be taken. Unless he were dead.
That Darius once again found himself back to that line of thought unsettled him. He had, perhaps, another day here before he must return, yet he was no closer to answers than he had been when he first arrived. Instead the mystery had sprouted new, twisted limbs.
'The key is the medallion,' he said. 'I must figure out which human has the most to gain by possessing it.'
'Not necessarily a human.' With a shuddering sigh, Grace sank onto a stool. 'Any of the creatures in Atlantis could use it to sneak inside your home and steal your valuables. For God's sake, you own jewels of every kind and size.'
That's exactly what those humans had been doing inside Javar's palace, stealing, using the gods' tools to pry out the jewels. 'Atlanteans must only ask and we share. There is no reason to steal.'
'There is, too, a reason. Pure greediness. And I know for a fact that the emotion is inherent to all races, gods and humans alike. All of our myths and legends expound upon such things.'
Now he sighed. 'Humans are responsible this time .' He thought back to the messenger's words and the gun the boy had drawn. 'Humans are even now inside my friend's home, wielding guns and the gods only know what other weapons.'
'Could the humans be working with this friend?'
'Never.' He would not consider the possibility. 'Javar loathes humans as I do. He would never aid one.'
She averted her gaze from him, shielding her expression. Several seconds ticked until she said, 'Do you loathe all humans?' A trace of hurt leaked into her voice.
'Not all,' he admitted reluctantly. He liked one tiny female more than was wise. A female with silky red curls and softly rounded curves. With lush breasts and high-tipped nipples.
A female he craved in his bed more with every moment that passed.
'Well, then,' she said, straightening her back, pretending she had not a care. 'We'll concentrate on humans. I'm sure I've told you this, but Alex wrote of someone chasing him through the jungle during his search for the portal. I'm willing to bet the same humans who are inside that palace are the ones Alex wrote about.'
'Wrote?' he lashed out, concentrating on that one word. He could not allow any written record of his home. He already had the Book of Ra-Dracus to contend with. 'You said he told you.'
'He did. In his journal. He kept a log of his search for the mist. Would you like to read it?'
'Where is it?' he asked sharply.
'I'll show you.' She walked from the kitchen, and Darius followed close on her heels. She led him down a small, narrow hallway laden with the calming scent of chamomile. They entered her bedchamber and it took only one glance at the bed for his stomach to tighten. She stopped at the desk and held up a can for his view. 'This looks like an ordinary hairspray can, right?'
'Of course,' he said, though he had no idea what hairspray was.
'Well, it's not.' With quick, precise motions, she untwisted the end and out popped a key. Her lush, pink lips lifted in a half smile, revealing the hint of straight white teeth.
His stomach didn't tighten this time, but reached up and devoured his throat.
How could one woman possess so much beauty?
With a graceful flick of her fingers, she hooked tendrils of hair behind her ears. She bent down and inserted the key underneath the desk. 'My father was too sick to hold a job-that's why we moved from South Carolina to New York, so he could be close to Sloan-Kettering. Anyway, to pass the time and make money in the process, he carved and sold furniture. He built this for me a long time ago.'
'I am sorry for your loss.'
'Thank you,' she said softly. 'My dad built one for Alex, too, though his secret compartments are different. I think. We used to get into each other's stuff, which made both of us furious. Alex would read my diary, and I would steal pictures of his friends. So my dad made us each a desk where we could successfully hide our treasures.'
The melancholy in her voice remained long after her words faded away. Darius very nearly dropped to his knees and vowed never to hurt her or her brother if only she would smile again. He stayed the impulse, knowing such a promise was impossible to keep.
Inside the secret drawer lay a thin, plain book bound by black leather. As Grace traced her fingertips over the surface, she caught her bottom lip with her teeth, slowly releasing it. She handed the book to him, retaining contact until the last possible second.
He flipped through the pages, frowning at the unfamiliar script. While his spell of understanding gave him complete comprehension of Grace's spoken language, it did not provide him with an understanding of the written. He'd never been concerned with others' opinions of him, but he did not want Grace to perceive any weakness in him. He wanted her to see him as strong and capable, all that a woman could desire.
He handed the journal back to her, saying, 'Read it to me. Please.'
Thankfully she made no comment, merely accepted the book and stood. 'Let's get comfortable in the living room.'
Once there, Grace situated herself on the scarlet couch, and he eased beside her. Perhaps he should have
