The Vampire's Bride (Atlantis #4)(74)

A jagged branch suddenly sailed into Brand's shoulder, knocking him down. He hissed. Saw the same thing happen to Zane. Both men panted, looking between the lances and each other when Nola limped between them, hands on her hips. Her face was pallid, and there were dark circles under her eyes.

"Do I have your attention now?"

She was a fearsome sight. Despite her weakened condition, rage radiated from her in powerful waves. Her lips were thinned in displeasure and her hands curled into weapons.

"First, I am not yours," she said to Zane. "Second, I can defend myself," she said to Brand. "If I could not, I would not be worthy of my tribe. Were we in Atlantis, I would be punished for allowing you to tend me."

"I know your taste," Zane growled, startling Brand. "You are mine."

Must have startled Nola, too, because she paled all the more as she studied the vampire. "You do not know my taste. I have never given myself to you."

"You have dreamed of me." Zane threw the words at her as violently as if they were weapons.

She stumbled backward and shook her head. "How can you know that?"

"Because - "

"How!"

"Because they are not dreams! I came to you last night and you welcomed me with open arms."

Again, she stumbled backward, eyes wide, dazed. She glanced from Zane to Brand, Brand to Zane. "I - I - "

Brand jerked the stick from his shoulder, grimacing at the torn muscle and skin. There was a sharp burn, but it swiftly dissipated as his skin and tissue wove back together, healing.

"I would never have let you do those things..." she gasped out.

"You did." Zane stepped toward her, the stick still protruding. "Eagerly."

"Liar! I do not want you."

"You do. You did."

"No, no. It was a dream."

Brand's rage sparked to new heights. "Go to her again, and I will linger over you when I kill you," he told the vampire.

"I will kill you," she corrected, tears beading in her eyes. Gods, the sight nearly undid him. "I might have desired you in my dreams, vampire, but I don't want you now. I can't."

Zane frowned, confusion lighting his eyes. "But I don't want to die when you touch me. That makes you mine. That has to mean you are a gift for all I've endured."

"No, it doesn't." She bent down, grabbed another branch and launched it at him. "I am meant for no man."

He was too startled to move - or perhaps he chose not to move - and the limb sank into his other shoulder. He did not make a sound. Just stood there, both sticks protruding from him.

"Leave me alone," the Amazon choked out. "Both of you."

"Nola," Zane called.

She turned on her heel and limped away.

"Nola!" the warrior screamed, the sound echoing from branches, causing a flock of birds to take flight. "Don't leave me as she did. Please."

Suddenly not knowing what to do, Brand watched as the vampire crisscrossed his arms, gripped the sticks and jerked them out. Watched as the vampire stepped forward as if to follow the girl, stopped and emitted a sound unholy in its intensity and pain. Zane had truly desired the Amazon, was truly confused that she didn't want him in return.

Brand's dragon form retreated, leaving him in the guise of man. Naked, his clothes having been ripped away.

"Nola," Zane whispered now as he fell to his knees.

Brand slowly, quietly, receded into the shadows. Still, Zane's head snapped in his direction and their gazes clashed in heat. In hate.

"I won't let you hurt the girl again, Zane," Brand told him calmly. He hadn't protected his sister all those years ago. This girl, he would protect with his own life.

"I did not hurt her," Zane growled.

Brand's jaw set in a mutinous line. "The coming days should be interesting, then, wouldn't you agree?" With that, he stalked away, determined to find Nola and guard her the rest of the night.

But he knew that he and Zane would have a reckoning. Soon. Oh, yes, soon.

LAYEL DIDN'T KNOW what to do.

He had Delilah in his arms. Hungry sharks and bloodthirsty mermen swam around them and a volatile Tagart flew above them, spraying streams of white-hot fire. Every single one of them wanted Layel. Unfortunately the Amazon was caught in the crossfire.

Several times he'd dared break the surface of the water - only to be met with more of those molten beams. Now, he and Delilah were underwater again, spears jabbing at them, teeth snapping at them. She had slipped in and out of consciousness and had yet to awaken from the last time. Was she all right? He didn't know. What he did know was that she needed air. Soon.

He kicked a merman in the face and fought his way to the surface, maintaining a strong pinch on Delilah's nose to prevent her from breathing in the salty liquid. As his head broke the surface, he released her face, sucking in air and praying she was doing the same. If not, he'd give her every molecule in his lungs once they went under again.

Another river of fire. A quick dodge, barely avoiding contact. Through it all, Layel knew where to lay the blame for this travesty. Delilah was weak because of him. Him. She was a woman who prided herself on her skills and resilience, yet his actions had reduced her to a helpless damsel.

He could have transported himself to the beach, but he wouldn't have been able to take Delilah. He, too, was weak. Without him, she would sink, be eaten, stabbed, burned. She would die, like Susan.