Jewel of Atlantis

Jewel jerked from his clasp, her breath ragged. The words she's not for you, push her away echoed in her head. Hurt, she covered her swollen, moist lips with her hand, then quickly tied her robe, shielding her nakedness. Gray's pending rejection stung and battered her pride. If they'd been flesh and blood just then, she might have slapped him—or kneed his precious General Happy.

So many times she'd watched him kiss other women. He'd never pulled away—never thought to pull away. He'd always lingered and savored, moving slowly, prolonging the pleasure for as long as possible.

Why could he not be the same with her? Why?

His hands gripped her forearms, his breath just as ragged as hers. 'Why did you stop? I'm not done with you.'

So he wouldn't see her hurt expression, she turned away from him. 'You will live now, Gray. Your body has already begun healing. It's time for me to leave this place.'

Silence.

Silence so heavy it weighed upon her shoulders. No protest, no begging her to fall back in his arms. Why did she have to love this man? Why did he have to mean so much to her, when she obviously meant so little to him? He thought her dangerous, of all things. As if she would ever hurt him.

'My God,' he gasped, releasing her completely and stumbling back.

There was such horror in his tone, she whipped around, gaze dragging over him. 'What's wrong?' His eyes were wide, the lines around his mouth taut. 'I can read your mind.'

CHAPTER SEVEN

 Marina, Queen of the Demons, studied the vast expanse of the forest, her extraordinary gaze cutting through thick foliage and mounds of dirt and rocks. Flames from her army's crackling fire illuminated the surrounding trees, casting shadows and light in every direction. Smoke billowed toward the skydome, a curling, scented stream of ash. Frustration gnawed at her with the determination and frenzy of a hungry beast.

The murdering human was nowhere to be seen. More importantly, her favorite slave was no where to be seen.

'Damn this,' she growled, hands tightening into fists, sharp claws biting into her skin.

Calling a halt to the search and commanding her army to make camp here had not been easy. Not when she was desperate to regain possession of the girl. Yet with every minute that passed, Marina lost more and more of the girl's scent. Morning was due to arrive at any moment, and while the harsh rays of dawn would not kill her, her people hunted best in the dark, their eyes too sensitive for the day.

Now she would have to wait, and the knowledge curled her lips in a scowl. Where was the slave? Where had the human hidden her? Humans. How she loathed them. The gods amused themselves by sending some to Atlantis and watching the ensuing chaos. But one human should not have been able to steal her slave.

Where were they?

Would the pair beg protection from another race? she wondered, but discarded the idea almost instantly. Her slave always lauded the merits of freedom and would not risk enslavement from another kingdom. Easily recognized as she was, she would have to avoid the cities.

Which was why Marina was so far from the city. Her gaze continued to search, but she saw nothing out of the ordinary. She uttered a low snarl in the back of her throat, the sound of it reverberating throughout her entire body. Where were they?

A gentle, metallic breeze kissed the back of her neck and Marina whipped around, knowing her solitude had just been interrupted. Her eyes narrowed at the handsome intruder standing before her.

'Hello, Marina.' The silky male voice floated across the short distance.

'What do you here, Layel?' The question emerged on an angry growl. Had this been one of her men, she would have struck him down instead of demanding an answer.

The vampire king lifted his dark brows, giving them a dangerously seductive slant. 'That is no way to welcome an old friend.'

Old friend? Ha. 'You didn't answer my question.' As she spoke, her claws elongated, preparing to strike. Why not strike him down? While the demons and vampires were not enemies, they were not friends, either. And she'd wanted to destroy this smug, haughty bloodsucker for many years. Every time she looked at him, she was reminded of the time she had begged him to love her—and he had denied her.

Vampires were fast, unnaturally fast. She'd have to take him by surprise. As she slowly inched toward him, her gaze drank him in. He was tall and lithe, a creature who radiated power and sex. A lethal combination. Many an Atlantean queen, no matter her race, had fallen prey to his deadly charms. He possessed pale skin, perfectly sculpted features, and crystalline eyes that usually revealed only mocking amusement. At the moment, he was as still as a night stalker.

'You are not welcome here,' she drawled, claiming another inch closer.

'Of course I am.' He chuckled, the sound rich and husky in the night. 'This is my hunting field.'

She stilled. Only her gaze moved as she reassessed the milieu. The trees were taller than those on her own land. Lusher. Greener. The sweet scent of ash and sulfur so prevalent to her kind did fragrance the air, but underneath it was the scent of flowering blooms and sea salt.

It was his land, which meant the vampire's own army skulked nearby, hidden and silent. Waiting.

Her claws retracted into her nailbeds, and she scowled. How had she missed them? Another failure on her part, obviously. Her scowl deepened. She might be able to kill Layel right now, but she wouldn't live long enough to gloat; no, his army would emerge from their hiding place and attack and slaughter.

'Well?' Layel prompted, his eyes narrowed. Instead of menacing, the expression made him appear all the more sensual, all the more erotic.

'I'm looking for a human,' she finally said. 'A man. Have you seen him?'

Layel grinned. 'The human who decimated half of your palace and decapitated several of your guards?'

She gritted her teeth at the reminder. She didn't understand how one man, a human at that, had wreaked such desolation. All she knew was that she would not rest until she caught him. And when she captured that human bastard, she would feast off his body for days, prolonging his suffering and enjoying every moment of it.

'How do you know of his actions?' she demanded, her voice so sharp it could have cut glass. 'Word travels fast here. That, you should know.'

A movement to her right caught her attention, and Marina remained silent as one of her sentinels glided toward her. The demon camp behind him buzzed with activity. Pitching tents. Sharpening weapons. Consuming dinner—a satisfactory array of squealing pigs.

The guard, a handsome male with a profusion of horns on his arms and legs, and long raven hair that cascaded down his back, held a goblet in each hand.

He offered the first to Marina, then presented the second to Layel with an alluring smile. Her jaw twitched. Even her males were susceptible to the vampire.

'I saw you here and thought you might be thirsty,' he said, his words for Marina, but his gaze on Layel. 'Do not come this way again,' she snapped. 'Remain at camp or it will be you the army has for dessert.' Expression panicked, the demon rushed to obey, the long length of his wings flapping erratically. Leaves and twigs floated and danced in his wake, before dropping back onto the dirt.

Alone with the king once again, she gripped her goblet, watching him over the rim, studying him, considering. He was so pale, so exotic. She sipped the rich, crimson liquid, wishing the animal blood were sweeter, warmer.

'Darius en Kragin has a new bride,' she said, leaning against the rough bark of a tree trunk. The tips of her horns pierced the top layer. An idea began to form in her mind, overshadowing her desire to destroy the king.

Layel arched a dark brow. 'I know. I have seen her.' 'Then you know she is human.'

'Of course.' He drained his goblet, his gaze never leaving hers, and unceremoniously dropped the cup. He slowly closed what little distance there was between them, gliding over the dirt and limbs in his path. When he was