navel dipped deliciously, he noticed, another spot for his tongue to enjoy.
You love Susan. And more, you are a king, a warrior. Act like one. Every ounce of his strength was needed to finally—
'Good morning, contestants. I trust you slept well, and that you are as eager as we are for the games to begin. So, without further ado…say hello to your teammates,' a god-voice suddenly pronounced. This voice was deeper than the one yesterday, harder. A different god?
In the blink of an eye, Layel was whisked to the other side of the beach, standing in a new line—though this one was only half as long—and facing yet another row of Atlanteans. His teeth gnashed together as irritation flooded him. Being moved around like a puppet grated on his every nerve.
Zane stood across from him. He tried to snag the soldier's attention but failed. Following the direction of the man's gaze, he realized Zane was staring at Nola, who occupied the same side of the beach as Layel. Lust glittered in the warrior's expression. Lust and confusion and perhaps a little awe.
Delilah was in Zane's line.
Dread curled Layel's stomach as suspicions danced through his mind. Surely this god was not so cruel. Surely this heavenly sovereign would not pit friend against friend, man against woman.
'Yes, you will compete against your own kind. And, yes, you will compete against the opposite sex.' A laugh, booming, strong, full of mirth, though edged in steel. Did the god read minds on top of all his other powers, then? 'What better way to test your cunning, determination and survival instincts?'
Just as the water had done yesterday, the sand between the two lines of creatures swirled together, faster and faster, rising…rising…until the outline of a body formed. A few wayward grains drifted into Layel's mouth, and he spit them out in disgust.
'Who among you will place your allegiance with your own kind, rather than your fellow teammates, hmm?'
Layel twisted left, right, and eyed his team. A centaur, a nymph, Brand the dragon—bile rose in his throat—a demon, Nola the Amazon—he gulped—a minotaur, a formorian and a snake-headed gorgon.
All but the nymph had one thing in common. They were eyeing him with revulsion. Why? He shrugged, unconcerned. The only thing that bothered him at the moment was the fact that Delilah was not in his group.
He would be forced to compete against her.
'Great One, I would ask a boon.' Brand stepped forward, his gaze still locked on Layel.
'Ask,' the being said. 'Though I cannot promise you will receive it.'
Brand pointed to Layel, accusation in his eyes. 'This…bloodsucker meant to kill us all while we slept. I ask that he be removed from my team.'
Delilah had tattled on him, then. He felt betrayed by the knowledge, which was foolish. At least the revulsion of his teammates now made sense.
'And yet he did not kill you or anyone,' the god said in his defense, surprising him.
'He will continue to try if given the opportunity. I ask that he be destroyed here and now,' Brand continued.
'And I decline.'
'But—' Before he could speak another word, Brand dropped to his knees with a grunt, as if he could no longer endure his own weight. He moaned, grabbing his stomach and falling the rest of the way into the sand. A trickle of blood escaped his mouth.
'You had your answer, and yet you dared to persist. Let this be a lesson to all who think to question the gods' wisdom.'
No one rushed to the dragon's defense, and Layel smiled slowly. A more welcome sight he had never encountered. Except for Delilah…last night…underneath you, panting…craving your mouth… With a muttered curse, he blackened his mind.
'We are giving you a few more hours. Use it to strategize with your team. Tonight,' the god continued, as if Brand's interruption had not occurred, 'the first competition will take place. You'll need every ounce of strength you possess to survive. Because the challenge will be difficult, the winning team will be greatly rewarded. And do not think to rebel, keeping your team from victory. The losing team shall appear before me, and, as mentioned before, the weakest contender will be executed.
'Go now. Do whatever you must to strengthen yourselves and prepare for the challenge to come. Do not disappoint me.' The last seemed to bullet straight to Layel.
He opened his mouth to say something—what, he didn't know—but a second later, the sand stilled, collapsed, the being clearly gone.
Then a dark cloud assaulted Layel, a single word whispering into his ears: Gauntlet. His eyes burned, some of the granules having worked their way under his lids. He scrubbed a hand over his face. Gauntlet? Confused, he held his breath until the cloud passed. It swept over several other creatures, and they coughed. But they did not act as if they'd heard a voice.
Finally Brand ceased writhing and dragged himself to his feet with a dark scowl at Layel. Everyone else glanced around the island, as if unsure of what to do next.
'This is ridiculous.'
'I'm not pairing with a demon.'
'Or a vampire.'
Layel blocked their chatter. Two teams. Competing against each other. Someone from the losing team would die. Tonight. Delilah? His fingers curled, nails cutting. Don't think about her. His focus settled once again on his team. How was he supposed to play nice with a dragon? A demon? He would rather die.
You just might.
He sighed. Gauntlet. Was that to be their challenge? Or was it a trick? He would soon find out, he supposed.
ZANE STALKED from the beach, through the trees and away from the harsh morning light and the creatures he despised. If he had stayed, the already-thin strand he held on his control would have snapped.
Bad things happened when he snapped.
But he could think of nothing to calm himself. The feelings the Amazon Nola wrought in him were too confusing, too similiar to what another female had once made him experience. Feelings that had changed him—and not for the better. More than that, he was hungry. Layel had ordered him not to kill last night, and he hadn't. Which meant he hadn't eaten, either.
Zane only drank from creatures he killed. That way, expressions of fear and pleas for mercy would not haunt him. And yet, those living creatures had begun to look tasty.
Also, taking a living being meant enduring hands and gazes on his body. He shuddered.
Last night he'd meant to feast on the Amazon, for she smelled sweeter than anyone he'd ever encountered. Even Cassandra, the woman he'd bargained away years of his life to save—the woman who'd then wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, he'd decided to destroy Nola even before the demons.
But she had bested him.
He'd gone in for that first slash of her throat, but she had anticipated his move and had struck first. Only, she hadn't hurt him. She had trussed him up like an animal. To do so, she had touched him. She had looked at him. And he had not wanted to run, hide, even die as he usually did when touched and gazed upon.
Actually, he'd wanted her to do both again.
What strange power did these Amazons wield? The blue-haired one had Layel tied in knots. Zane had never seen the king so confused. Soft, even. Layel lived and breathed death. Revenge. Two goals Zane admired. Yet neither of them had been able to hurt those women. Worse, both men now seemed to crave them.
Unacceptable.
Zane had avoided females since his release from the demon palace. Sex was not something he needed to survive, wasn't even something he wanted anymore, therefore he did not indulge. Ever. Even a hasty coupling gave a female power over a man.
No one would consume his thoughts; no one would dictate his body's feelings. Too many times over the years he'd had to…Bile rose in his throat. He swallowed it and scrubbed the memory from his mind.
But he knew it would come back. It always did.
Layel probably thought he'd been stolen, locked away and forced. Layel was wrong. Zane had gone to the
