The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(38)

Confused, Delilah stalked beside...She searched her mind but could not remember the minotaur's name, even though he was on her team. He was tall, fur covering every inch of his bull face and humanlike body. Saber-teeth protruded from his lips down to his chin. Two horns rose on each side of his head in place of ears.

She'd invaded a minotaur camp once. The bull-men hadn't had a king in centuries, but one had risen among their ranks and tried to take the reins of power. To prove himself strong and unafraid, the foolish creature had insulted nearly every king and queen in Atlantis.

Kreja, Amazon queen then and now, had decided to teach him the error of his ways and ordered Delilah to lead the army into battle. Delilah had chosen a sneak attack as she considered the weaker race unworthy of a full-on clash. During a rainstorm, she'd infiltrated their midst and simply cut the limbs from the bastard's body.

The next day, she'd delivered each of those limbs to a few of the kings and queens he had insulted. She wondered how Layel would have reacted to the gift, had he been among the recipients.

"What is that?" she asked the minotaur now, nodding at the monstrosity up ahead.

He turned his head and eyed her from top to bottom. Searching for weapons, most likely. She fluttered her lashes at him, projecting, I'm harmless. You have nothing to fear. If Tagart's accusations reached her teammates, they would most likely try and slay her in her sleep. They would believe him, too, because she had left their meeting so abruptly.

Gods, she was going to have to win their loyalty.

Slowly the bull-man relaxed. "I believe it's called a gauntlet. My mother used to tell me stories about brave warriors who attempted to defeat such things."

Gauntlet...the word played through her mind, finally snapping into place. Bedtime stories told of courageous soldiers forced to run the entire length to prove their valor. Trepidation bubbled in her chest, followed quickly by excitement. Danger always had that effect. Half of her hated it while the other half thrived on it.

Perhaps she had always been a woman divided. Perhaps she could not lay her dueling needs to conquer and be conquered at Layel's feet.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, a gliding black slash appeared down the beach. Layel had arrived. Her stomach quivered, and her knees weakened. Moisture flooded between her legs. Gods. He wasn't near her, yet she could almost feel his fingers inside her, pumping her to satisfaction.

His effect was even more potent than the thought of danger, for there was not a single part of her that hated it. Come to me, she projected. He didn't. And all of her willpower was required to remain in place - or, at the very least, not motion him over.

Should she call out to him? One glance at his eyes, that was all she needed. Hopefully, he had calmed, those invisible demons forgotten.

In the end, she didn't have to do anything. He faced her, a quick meeting of gazes before looking away. Usually he appeared cold, withdrawn. Sometimes, like a little while ago, feral. But now the hate had returned. Oh, had the hate returned. The heat and force of it was blinding.

Why?

She scoured her mind but couldn't recall anything she might have done to offend him. Could he, like her, be battling conflicting desires? She'd wondered before, but never had the possibility seemed more likely.

She knew why she did so. She wanted to be both woman and warrior, respected by her sisters and loved by a man. What was his reasoning?

"If you cause us to fail," Tagart said, suddenly at her side and blocking Layel from her sights, "I will kill you myself. Doubt me not."

She went rigid. In the past, no one would have been able to sneak up on her. Damn Layel and his strange pull on her! "Perhaps you haven't realized that your threats mean nothing to me."

Nola approached her other side, and Delilah turned away from the dragon. An insult, she knew. As if he were so insignificant he did not bear watching. She kept her ears tuned to him, though, in case he decided to strike.

He growled low in his throat, but never moved for attack.

"This cannot end well," Nola muttered. Strands of her dark hair brushed her cheek and whipped over her eyes. "I hate that we have been separated. My team leaves much to be desired."

Though they had never been close, Delilah's loyalty belonged to those of her own race. Do not forget. "No matter what we are ordered to do, I will not betray or hurt you. You have my word."

Nola's gaze fixed on the gauntlet. "I want to believe you. I do. But - "

"No. No god is going to change my allegiance."

"I cannot believe this is really happening. I want to go home. I want to hold Lily. I want my life back, riotous as it was."

"Everyone here wants to return to Atlantis, but we can't. So you're going to put those things out of your mind and concentrate on the task at hand. That's an order. It's the only way to ensure your survival."

Nola bristled, but a moment passed and she gave another nod. "All right. Yes."

Delilah's relief was short-lived.

"The time has come."

The god-voice came suddenly, without warning, and Delilah's already stiff body gave a jerk. This voice sounded different, deeper than the one yesterday had been, raspier than the one before. A third god? She faced the ocean, where the air and water beside the gauntlet mixed, thickening and dappling and already taking the shape of a man. Again, no face was visible.