The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(28)

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 demons of his own volition. Every disgusting thing the demon queen had done to him, he had allowed. Begged for, even. He'd been cursed with a beauty most demons found irresistible, and the queen had craved him even though his heart belonged to another. A slave. Stay with me until I tire of you, the queen had said, and then I will free you both. But she hadn't, and Cassandra, a siren enslaved by the demons, had begun to look at him with hate.

Demon whore, he heard in his mind even now. Demon whore, demon whore.

Scowling, he flattened his hands over his ears. The taunts did not die. Only seemed to increase in volume. A roar ripped from him, and he slammed his fist into the nearest tree trunk. Bark cut past skin. Blood oozed down his arm. The vile things he had done...all for nothing.

"Are you hurt? Oh, I hope it's terribly painful!"

The feminine voice, soft and lilting, somehow managed to overshadow the din in his head. He whipped around and there, in front of him, was his tormentor, worse than any demon he had faced. Nola. She was so lovely, he lost his breath. She was tall, but not bulky. Lean, but strong. And yet, she appeared delicate, as if she would break in half with a good squeeze. Angelic, as if she had no other thoughts beside pleasure.

He knew those angel-looks were deceptive.

While he was not repulsed by her touch or her regard - why, why? - he found that he did not like her. She behaved like a demon, demanding, happily taking from others without giving anything in return. Taking his concentration, his self-protective instincts.

"Following me was foolish." If only he had his knives. He could have thrown them, embedded each in her chest. But when the god had popped Zane onto the beach, the sticks he'd painstakingly sharpened had no longer been strapped to his body. And that made no sense. They'd been told to make whatever weapons they wished, yet still they weren't allowed to use them.

"We both know you cannot hurt me." Nola lifted her chin, her features smug. No, her features attempted a smugness she could not quite pull off. Too much vulnerability in her eyes, he noticed for the first time. Too much heartache. "You're not smart or fast enough."

Insults no longer affected him. Too many had been hurled at him over the years. Besides, while she sneered them at him, they lacked any kind of heat. "Last night, you surprised me. You will not have that advantage again." Of its own accord, his gaze lowered to her neck, where her pulse drummed wildly.