The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(73)

She gave another snort and lay back on the moss. "I have endured more pain in my life than anyone should be forced to endure in seven lifetimes. I've had to look out for myself, trust only myself. I don't need anything from you or anyone else."

"Who hurt you so terribly? I will slay him for you."

She waved a hand in dismissal. "No need. I took care of it myself."

His lips twitched. Though she was tall and leanly muscled in the way of the Amazons, she was a tiny thing compared to his massive size. Would reach no higher than his shoulders. "You think yourself hard?"

"Think? When I have killed more soldiers than I could possibly name, warriors of every race living in Atlantis?" There was no pride in her tone, only fact. Perhaps a little sadness. "How many have you killed?"

"More."

Now her lips edged into a smile.

"Are you in pain now?" he asked.

"Yes."

Still, not by word or deed did she reveal it. He thought, had their places been reversed, he might have been cursing the heavens. He couldn't help but admire her fortitude - and be dismayed by it. To shrug at this pain, she truly must have suffered over the years. "Seems you and the other, Delilah, are constantly being injured."

Nola's brow puckered. "When was she injured?"

So. Delilah hadn't told her of Layel's bite. Guarding the vampire already, was she? Interesting. Though he doubted Layel would be any more grateful for the protection than Nola had been. "I thought she was. My mistake," was all he said.

She anchored her hands behind her head and stared up at the muted sky. "Men always make mistakes."

That haughty tone would have set him on edge had anyone else used it on him, but again, she reminded him of his sister and he could only shake his head and grin. He returned his attention to her poor leg. "Does your race heal quickly?"

"None of your concern, dragon."

"I'm not going to use the information against you."

"So you say."

So distrustful, she was. "So I swear."

"Would you give your enemy knowledge about your race?"

Excellent point. "Right now, I am not your enemy. We are teammates, you and I." The bleeding hadn't stopped. The wound was so deep, it probably wouldn't. Without help. "Close your eyes."

"No."

Damned woman. He shook his head in exasperation. "Keep them open, then, but know that this is going to hurt."

"What are you - "

He sucked in a deep breath, held it a moment, then pushed the air from his mouth. Air that was now blended with orange-gold flames. Those flames licked her skin, the now sizzling flesh cauterizing over each bite mark.

Nola screamed. "Bastard! Son of a demon! Centaur's ass!"

The sound of that tortured scream echoed from the trees, filling his head, making him cringe. "Had there been another way, I would have taken it." He grabbed the shoulder-length mane of his hair and squeezed the cold water from it, dripping liquid over the blisters, calming the remaining embers. "The pain will end soon, I swear it."

She continued to curse him. He didn't look at her face, too afraid he would see tears. That, he would not have been able to tolerate. When a woman cried, he became a babbling fool, stumbling over his words, desperate to escape. And this strong woman's tears would be even more powerful than most.

"There will be scars," he told her. "I'm sorry."

"Scars are...nice," she panted, cheeks flushed. He suspected she was more embarrassed by her reaction than still drowning in pain.

Behind him, the leaves clashed. Someone approached. As he stood, a roar sliced through the air, a dark shape propelling toward him. Almost there...He tensed, ready. They collided with a grunt.

Zane chomped for his throat, but Brand swung a clawed fist, connecting with the blood-drinker's jaw and knocking him to his back. Unencumbered now, Brand sprang. A few kicks and punches the vampire was too wild and crazed to duck and he was able to pin his opponent to the ground.

He didn't like the way the man had watched Nola out there in the water. Darkly, possessively. But rather than spew fire all over the warrior, killing him - Brand would not have it said he was afraid to face the vampire during the challenges - he punched Zane in the nose.

Snap.

Blood squirted, and there was a howl of rage and pain. All too soon, the blood-drinker recovered, shoving Brand off with enough force to throw him into a tree.

"Mine," Zane snarled, hopping up and kicking him in the stomach. "You do not touch her. You do not touch me."

There was a feral, animal glaze in his eyes. Brand was on his feet a moment later, scales crawling up his arm as rage filled him. He'd always been a dragon who preferred peace to war, and just then he suspected there would never be peace on this island as long as the unpredictable vampire lived. Brand forgot his pride, forgot what the others might say if he did this deed, and spit a stream of fire.

Zane dodged quickly, only a single flame touching him, burning away his shirt. He leapt forward, makeshift wooden dagger suddenly raised. Brand spun, his tail sprouting and nailing the vampire in the face, drawing blood.

Finally fully dragon, he used his wings to soar high, higher, then he descended, nose facing the ground. Faster, faster, he plunged toward the vampire. When he opened his mouth to spew more fire, he spied Nola limping into the stream. He snapped his jaw closed and allowed himself to slam into Zane. They rolled to the ground in a tangled, violent bid for dominance.