The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(29)

She flicked her dark hair over one shoulder, baring even more skin. Her hand was shaking. "Hungry, vampire?"

There was challenge - want? - in her tone, as if he could look but would never be allowed to taste. His eyes narrowed, the dare pricking at him sharply. "The thought of having your blood in my mouth sickens me."

He could not slay her; she was on Layel's team and Zane would never purposely hurt the man who had killed the demon queen, freeing Cassandra. And if he could not slay Nola, she would be able to touch him. What if last night had been an aberration? What if she touched him and he wanted to die, as he did with everyone else? Or worse - what if he wanted more from her?

"Sickens you, huh?" Unlike him, she could not overlook an insult. Fury and hurt flashed momentarily in those vivid emerald orbs, quickly replaced by determination. "I could make you beg for it. Many men have. Or I could make you a slave, just as Delilah will do to your king."

Every time she opened her mouth, he liked her less and less. How could he desire her, then? Even for a moment? "You are my enemy, now more than before. I am slave to no one." Would never be a slave again, willing or not. "The only thing I want from you is your absence. And believe me, as badly as I crave it, I am still unwilling to beg."

A tremor rocked her lithe body. "Oh? And you think your teammates will offer their blood to you?"

"Most likely." Not that he would sample a single drop. "They'll wish to keep me strong. They will not want a weak member dragging them down."

She raised her chin. "They know you considered killing them. I made sure of it."

"Yes, but you are now their enemy. They will no longer care what you say." He did not know if he spoke true. He only knew he wanted to wipe that haughty look off her too lovely face.

She ran the tip of her tongue over her teeth, and his cock jumped at the sight of all that pink and wet. He scowled in surprise. True desire? Again? That had not happened in years, yet now it had happened twice in two days.

Why did he want her? Her of all people? A cocky, irritating demon in an angel's skin?

"I'm going to feed," he said fiercely, quietly. "And then I am going to do everything in my power to make sure you lose tonight. Then, I will pray that you are the first to be executed."

She stepped toward him, hands fisted. "You are a bastard. No better than my mother. No better than my father, my brothers, men my mother abandoned her sisters to be with, men who helped her destroy me." Hate churned beneath the surface of her skin. Hate and fury. "Guess what I did to them?"

"Killed them?" Zane forced himself to remain in place, even though everything inside him screamed to back away before she could reach him. Not because he feared what she might do, but because he feared his reaction to her. She had suffered? Perhaps as he had?

"After I played with them a bit," she said silkily, "they begged for death. Still I waited days before I gave it to them." She stopped, turned away, but didn't move off. "Oh, and one more thing. If my team loses tonight, it might very well be your king who is killed. In fact, I'll make sure of it. Think about that."

DELILAH REMAINED on the beach, even though everyone else had left. Including Nola, her sister by race - and her new enemy?

She bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. All her life, her only goal had been to protect her sisters. Those she loved, those she didn't. Now she was to fight against one.

And Layel...

What was she to do about him? She'd wondered all through the night, yet she still didn't have an answer. They were enemies now, more so than before. At least, they were supposed to be.

Last night he had said cruel things to her. At first, she'd been hurt and had by turns wanted to beat him senseless and cry in his arms like a weakling. But then she'd remembered something. In battle, anything goes. She knew that better than most, and last night they had been locked in a battle of fierce desire. Words meant nothing. Actions, everything.

He wanted her. Proof: just a little while ago he had peered at her with naked longing in his eyes. But while he did want her, he clearly did not want to want her. Proof: he always walked away.

Part of Delilah was ready to fight him until he changed his mind. Until he admitted that he craved her kiss as much as she craved his. And yet, the other part of Delilah insisted she do nothing, forcing him to fight for her and treat her as the prize she'd always wanted to be. She was confused by the conflicting nature of her desires. Fight for him - make him fight for her. Dominate him - be dominated by him.

She knew she would not do the first, even though she'd allowed herself moments of weakness and had almost given in to the thought of pleasure. To give herself to another man, she had to know she was the most important thing in his life. He had to want her more than anything. He had to need her.

Would Layel ever need anyone?

Someone approached her, and she stiffened. She heard the swish of sand against boot, the faint rasp of even breathing. Not Layel, for this man radiated heat and smelled like sex.

"Nymph." She pushed to her feet and turned to him, hands curled into fists. Just in case.

"Amazon." He was at her side a moment later. He faced the water, careful not to focus his decadent gaze on her, and locked his hands behind his back. "We are teammates, you and I," he said.

He was tall, forcing her to look up...and up...and up. He had pale hair and bright blue eyes. His body was stacked with muscle upon muscle, visible even through his clothing. Normally, she remained as far away from the nymphs as possible. After all, they were capable of enslaving a woman with only a glance.