Jewel of Atlantis

and raised the sleeve of her robe with the other, revealing several inches of smooth skin. Crystals gleamed from the torque, projecting a vast array of colors. A silver stone rested in the center.

The sight of the rich gold band contrasting with the smooth peaches-and-cream flesh of her arm proved more erotic than two chicks making out right in front of him. He wanted Jewel to have it. Real bad. So easily he could picture her wearing the armband—and nothing else.

'That looks beautiful on you,' the vendor said, the words low and gravelly.

Gray wouldn't have minded stealing, but he, well, he didn't want to acquire the item that way. He wanted to gift Jewel with an honest purchase. Something she would look at and always think of him.

'Thank you,' Jewel said, but she removed the item and returned it to the table, her sleeve falling back into place. There was regret and longing in her voice, and she gazed at the item for a long while before finally turning her attention to a bloodred ruby headpiece.

'Roasted fowl,' someone called. 'Only half a drachma.'

Her chin jerked to the side. 'Roasted fowl,' she gasped, skipping to the vendor without a backward glance.

Gray watched her go, then did a quick scan of the crowd and decided she was safe enough for the moment He half turned toward the freaky bull-man, dividing his attention between his woman and the jewelry seller.

'How much?' he asked, pointing at the armband. Surprisingly the Atlantean language flowed easily from his tongue, as if he'd spoken it his entire life.

'Forty drachmas.'

He couldn't ask what drachmas were or he'd look like an idiot who didn't belong in Atlantis. He merely nodded and pivoted. As he closed the distance between himself and Jewel, the bull-man called, 'Thirty-five. I'll let you have it for thirty-five.'

Gray pulled Jewel to the side, away from the roasted fowl peddler, a thickly muscled, one-eyed Cyclops. Jewel held two pie tins of meat in her hand and the Cyclops was eyeing them wearily, as if he half expected them to sprint away with the goods. She was biting her lip, staring down at the food.

His gaze returned to the Cyclops, and he noticed the man was clad in rags, and had hollowed cheeks despite his oddly muscled appearance. He was dirt poor, and Gray didn't have the heart to steal from him, either.

'What are drachmas?' he asked Jewel quietly.

'Money.' She sniffed the food with a rapturous expression, completely absorbed in her task. 'Like your dollars.'

'How can I earn some?' As he spoke, he saw a group of the freakiest of all the things he'd seen so far. One arm protruded from their chests, and one leg swung from their torsos, and only the wings on their backs kept them upright. They formed a small, laughing circle.

Each whatever the hell they were held a good-sized lizard, and each lizard wore a jeweled collar, a different jewel for each different owner. They placed the squirming things in a line, using their only hand to hold onto the lizard's tail.

One of the men shouted, 'Go,' and everyone released their lizards.

Gray expected the cursed things—he hated lizards, ewww—to bite their handlers, but they surprised him by jolting into action and racing forward. The green-collared lizard crossed the finish line first and its handler fluttered up and down with excitement, clapping his hand against his thigh.

A heavy-looking pouch was thrown at the thing, and he caught it, opening the burlap sack with his teeth and withdrawing a dull rock. Gray would bet his substantial savings account that dull rock was a drachma.

God love the gambling community.

He brightened. 'Never mind,' he told Jewel. 'I know how.' His grip tightened on the blade he held. It was good-sized with a marble handle and worth a small fortune. His brother-in-law, Jorlan, a prince of some distant planet, had given it to him. 'You ever gambled?'

'No.'

'Today's going to be your day of firsts. Come with me.'

'Wait.' She replaced the food on the table, and he ushered her through the crowd darting along the street When she noticed the only possible destination for them, she said, 'Uh, Gray, perhaps we should turn around now.' He ignored her, never slowing. Soon the things 'low voices drifted to them, reminding Gray of something he wanted to ask Jewel. 'Would you mind telling me how I now know your language?'

Her radiant sapphire eyes rounded. 'You can understand?'

He nodded and cast her a glance. He could see wheels turning and watched her eyes widen as the answer hit her, but she merely shrugged. 'How does anyone learn a language, really?'

'With hard work and a lot of studying.'

'You could have learned it simply by listening to others speak it.'

The woman was good, he'd give her that. She never lied, but when she didn't want to answer a question she had ways of trying to throw him off the scent. 'I didn't work at this and I didn't listen closely to others. How did I learn it?' he persisted.

She paused, gulped, then offered, 'I have heard some humans learn our language through magic.'

Magic. His brother-in-law dealt in magic, and Gray knew firsthand the dangers involved in using it. A man could be turned to stone, while still able to see, hear and feel everything around him. A man could be cursed inside a box, allowed to emerge only when his female master had need of his services. He shuddered.

No, thank you.

'Did you use a spell on me?' Before she replied, he realized she'd never actually said with one hundred percent surety that he'd learned the language through magic. She'd merely suggested it. In fact, she hadn't answered his question in any way.

He gritted his teeth together, stopped, and stared down at her for a long while, making her squirm. 'I'm on to you. Magic, indeed. When we're safe in our room tonight, we're going to have a long talk.'

Our room, he'd said. Jewel swallowed, trying to alleviate the sudden dryness of her mouth. She suspected Gray understood the Atlantean language because she'd been inside his head and must have left pieces of herself behind. Amazing, surreal, but there it was. Had she, then, taken pieces of him with her?

She didn't know how he'd take to that news when he didn't seem to remember she'd been inside his head at all, so she said nothing, letting him rationalize whatever explanation he would.

Right now, she had other things to worry about. The Formorians' skin was as pale as a vampire's but looked more like dry paper with thin blue lines. They had just finished another lizard race when she and Gray reached their circle. Gray stopped, not saying a word, just watching curiously; she remained at his side, scanning faces, ready to warn him if anyone attempted to hurt him. The Formorians had blades strapped all over their bodies. She didn't know why they were here in the Inner City when Formorians usually stayed in the more accepting Outer City. They were a danger-loving race who didn't mind feasting on flesh, preferably while the bodies were still alive and screaming.

'I want to play,' Gray finally announced to the surrounding crowd, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

The Formorians whipped around, frowning. 'Do you have drachmas?' one of them asked, eyes narrowed.

Gray held out his dagger and gave it, hilt first, to the creature closest to him. The Formorian accepted the dagger, gripping it in his only hand. 'I must see who I am dealing with first,' he said.

'You see enough of me.' Gray's tone had lost its easiness, becoming dark and menacing.

'I will see all of you.' He motioned with a tilt of his chin, and another of the Formorians stepped forward, reaching out to push back Gray's hood.

Gray shoved the creature, hard, making him stumble backward. All of his friends growled low in their throats. 'You stink of human,' one of them spat. 'We will see your face.'

'And you stink of shit,' Gray snapped. 'All you'll see is another of my weapons if you don't get out of my face. Now, you accepted my dagger, so deal me into the game.'

'You will leave or die. That is your only choice.'

Gray stepped forward quickly, shadows covering most of his face. But through the shadows, his eyes were glowing bright, menacing red. 'You will let me in your game. Understand?'

Seeing the glowing eyes—demon eyes—they nodded, now eager to please. Formorians feared demons, their stronger counterpart.