The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(7)

Did Nola plan to win the vampire for herself? At first, Delilah stood unmoving in astonishment. Stoic Nola always kept to herself, had never fought for a male prisoner and only warred when commanded, despite her growing skill. By nature, she was a watcher, not a doer. She would not want the vampire. Would she?

Perhaps I am not the only one fascinated by his strength. Seething with sudden fury, Delilah stalked forward. What she would do when she reached the thick of the fray, she didn't know. If only cleaving Nola's head from her body were an option.

The illicit thought had her gasping. Were she to say something like that aloud, she would be sentenced to death.

Someone pushed her to the ground before she'd gotten halfway to her target. The vampire had done the same and it had excited her. This...didn't. She rolled to her back. There was no time to rage, though, as this newest threat leapt on top of her and pinned her. She looked up and saw that it was the last dragon she'd stabbed. He'd already partially healed - and clearly wanted more. She wiggled her arm free to slice him.

"Oh, no, you don't," he said, fingers clamping around her wrist.

"Oh, yes, I do." She worked one of her legs between them and kicked him in the face. His body twisted to the side, lifting his weight, freeing her. She stood, kicked him once more, aiming for his oozing wound. He jerked, then stilled, eyes closed. Satisfied he wouldn't come for her again, she marched away, catching sight of the vampire and watching him move with lethal grace and fluidity, his weapons extensions of his arms, as if he had been born with them in his hands.

Behind him, a dragon opened its mouth to spew a stream of fire.

"Nola!" she shouted, too far away to shove him out of the way herself. But the Amazon was distracted by the tail being swung at her, and didn't hear her cry for help.

Swiftly, Delilah withdrew one of the daggers crisscrossed at her back and tossed it. The tip wheezed through the air before embedding in the dragon's chest. There was a chilling howl, but thankfully no fire.

The vampire spun, and his gaze collided with hers. A sizzle of awareness swept through her, stronger than the one she'd experienced at their first encounter. He glanced at the dragon falling to his knees, then inclined his head in acknowledgment of Delilah's action. Disappointment joined ranks with the awareness.

What did you expect? That he'd blow you a kiss? "Your gratitude is humbling," she called, echoing his earlier words to her.

Without a word, he pivoted and attacked another of the fire-breathers, seeming unconcerned as flames danced over his skin, charring and blistering. The more steps she took toward him, the more opponents jumped in her way. And as Delilah fought her way to him - no, to her friend, damn it! - she saw Nola dive low, slide past a dragon that had just stabbed a vampire in the stomach and slice into its scaled ankles. There was another roar as the creature dropped, no longer able to stand.

Delilah reached her then. The white-haired vampire had vanished.

"Where's Lily?" Nola asked her, panic layering her voice. Ribbons of black hair whipped across her delicate face as she searched left, then right. A loner she might be, but she loved Lily as much as the rest of them.

Delilah followed the direction of her gaze - and finally found the cage Lily had occupied. It was empty. No. No, no, no. "Surely one of the others freed her and carried her to safety."

"That was not the plan. She was to be taken, cage and all to keep her safe and snug, out of harm's way. Most likely she picked the lock herself. She knows how, we made sure of that at least."

"True. All right. You sweep the north, and I'll head south. We'll find her."

Nola nodded, and they were off.

Delilah raced through trees, twigs slapping her face and arms. Rocks dug past the soles of her boots. All the while, she kept her eyes to the ground, searching...searching...there! Three sets of footprints came into view. One was delicate and bare, two were large and booted. Male.

All three were headed toward the Amazon camp.

The dragons wouldn't know the way, which meant Lily was being chased.

Enraged, Delilah increased the speed of her steps, her own haggard gasps ringing in her ears. For once, she regretted the fact that Lily had not been instructed in the art of battle like all the other Amazons.

Sweet Lily, the queen's only child. She'd been a tiny infant, born too soon and constantly sick. She should have been killed at birth, or at least later as it became apparent she would never be strong enough for war. But no one had been able to do it. She'd captured their hearts from the first.

And so, sickly as she'd been, the girl had not been taken from her mother. Had not been thrust into combat training at the age of five. She hadn't been beaten for revealing any hint of weakness, like tears and sadness. Hadn't been slashed and hurt, then thrown into the elements to learn how to survive while her body screamed in pain and the world around her supplied nothing but bone-chilling ice or skin-melting heat.

On her own, Lily would die.

Violated, Lily would probably want to die.

I'm coming, sweet. I'm coming. Where are you? Where -

A terrified scream pierced the air, an answer to her prayers. Her nightmares.

Lily! Still sprinting, Delilah unsheathed the remaining daggers at her waist. She burst through an emerald thicket - and found Lily being held down, her ankles tied, her arms flailing as she tried to free herself from the men subduing her.