Atlantis Series Complete Collection

by Gena Showalter

  A hard glint entered Jason’s eyes, but his need to brag far surpassed his anger. “Before entering the portal in Florida, I tossed in enough fentanyl gas to put a legion of men to sleep. Then I sent in my troops. Most were killed, but casualties of war are expected. The Guardian of the Mist might have been strong, but he couldn’t survive multiple rounds of firepower and he quickly bled out.”

  “What about his men? The Book of Ra-Dracus speaks of each Guardian possessing an army of dragons inside his palace.”

  “Ah, the Book of Ra-Dracus.” All arrogance, Jason lifted a jeweled goblet and sipped the contents. “Have I thanked you yet for the book’s acquisition? It changed my life.”

  “You stole it from me,” he accused, his eyes narrowed.

  “Of course. Just like you stole from me. The irony is beautiful, isn’t it?” Smiling smugly, Jason added, “You made the mistake of typing your notes into your computer. I keep tabs on all of my employees.”

  “You hack into their personal lives, you mean.”

  Jason shrugged. “When I realized exactly what you possessed, I knew I had to have it. So I paid someone to ‘acquire’ it for me.”

  “I stole the medallion from you, yes, but I always intended to give it back. I didn’t think you even knew what it was.”

  “Oh, I knew.” A soft rumble of laughter escaped. “I’m slowly emptying this palace of every jewel, every piece of gold, every fine fabric and selling them on the surface. How else do you think I afforded those new buildings? My designer clothes?” He paused, tilted his chin. “And I’ll do the same to the other dragon palace. But we digress. How did we kill the dragon army? The same way we found them. Ra-Dracus. We learned they are weakened by cold and bullets. Quick. Simple.”

  “You’re a monster,” Alex whispered, horrified by what Jason had done—and all he would do.

  “A monster? Hardly. Those that dwell in Atlantis are the monsters. In fact, let me tell you a little about Teira, the sweet Teira you so wish to protect. She’s a dragon. A changeling.” He studied Alex’s waning color and nodded with satisfaction. “I see you know what I am talking about.”

  “I read Ra-Dracus in its entirety.”

  “Then you know what happens when you infuriate a dragon? It transforms into a beast. A killer.”

  “If Teira is a dragon, why hasn’t she changed? Why hasn’t she freed herself?” He paused. “Why hasn’t she killed you?”

  “She has seen what our guns did to her people, and she fears us. Fear will keep the fiercest of creatures submissive.”

  “Or maybe that’s why you keep it so cold in here. To keep her weak because you are afraid of her.”

  Eyes narrowed, Jason said, “Dragons can go days, weeks without food. Then, suddenly, an intense craving comes over them. Do you know what they eat when this craving comes upon them, Alex?”

  He swallowed. He didn’t know, but he could guess.

  “They eat whatever is in sight,” Jason answered, leaning back in his chair. “And do you know what Teira will crave when the hunger hits her? You, Alex. You. She won’t have to change to dragon form. She’ll just start biting.”

  A wave of dizziness hit him as he shook his head in denial. “She wouldn’t hurt me.” He didn’t know when he’d started to think of Teira as his ally. He didn’t know when he’d lost his animosity toward her. He only knew that hers was the only kindness he’d known these last weeks.

  “You sound so confident. So stupid.” Jason laughed. “I know the nature of the beast, and I know beyond a doubt that when the time comes, she will feast on your body because you will be the only food in sight. She may not want to, she may hate herself for it, but she will do it.”

  “Why are you doing this? Why go to all this trouble? Kill me already and get it over with.”

  “Tell me where the medallion is, and I’ll let you go. We’ll forget this ever happened.”

  Liar, he almost shouted. Unless Jason meant to let him go with his head detached from his body.

  Lethargy began to weave through the dizziness, and he closed his eyes. “I don’t know where it is,” he said. His voice sounded far away, lost.

  “Need I remind you that I’m not above using your mother? Your aunt? Your sister? Patrick, one of the men who found Grace, would like nothing more than to spread her legs before he kills her.”

  Alex couldn’t manage to open his lids; they were simply too heavy. He said weakly, “If anyone touches a single member of my family, I will—”

  “You will what?” Jason said mockingly.

  He didn’t respond. There was no threat great enough…and there was nothing he could actually do. Not here, not now, and not while the drugs crawled through his system. Not while his body suffered from blood loss. Sleep, he just wanted to sleep.

  “We’ve searched your home, Grace’s home and even your mother’s home. No one’s been hurt yet. That can all change in an instant, Alex. I’m running out of patience.” Jason pushed to his feet and walked around the table. He knelt in front of Alex. He gripped his hair and forced his head back, forced him to stare up into his eyes. “Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” he whispered hoarsely.

  “You’re pathetic.”

  His hair was released, but he didn’t have the neck strength to keep his head from slamming into the ground. He rolled onto his side and knew nothing more.

  How long passed before the sweet fragrance of seawater invaded his senses, he couldn’t fathom a guess. But when he opened his eyes, Teira was curled beside him, sleeping peacefully. Instinctively he jerked away as Jason’s words flitted through his mind. She won’t need to change into dragon form, she’ll just start biting.

  Teira’s pale lashes fluttered open, and the corners of her lips gifted him with a sleepy smile—a smile that did odd things to his stomach.

  She studied his expression, and her smile slowly faded. “What wrong?”

  As he studied her in return, he lost his trepidation. A bruise marred her cheek, barely visible under the dirt covering her. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, his throat scratchy. Still a bit groggy, he reached out and gently caressed the discoloration.

  “You look in pain,” she said.

  “How long did I sleep?” he asked.

  She shrugged.

  His fingers moved from her cheek and cupped her jaw. “What did they do to you?”

  “They not hurt me,” she assured him. “I think they fear I hurt them.”

  He chuckled, a low rumble that reverberated in his chest. She looked so delicate, it was hard to imagine her as a fearsome dragon.

  “How you feel?” Concern glinted in her golden eyes. She placed her hand over his heartbeat.

  “Better.” Much better now that she was here. But the shakes would come again, he knew, and so would the need. “Teira.” He sighed. “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you.” Born to a staunchly Southern father, he was ashamed of his behavior toward her. He might live in New York, but like every gentleman, he still opened car doors, still paid for meals and still called women when he said he would. Not that the ones he dated expected it. “I thought you worked for them, but that’s no excuse.”

  Her gaze skittered shyly away from him. “I like being with you.”

  Her confession pleased him, warmed him as surely as a winter coat. She wasn’t his type, but he was attracted to her all the same. A powerful attraction he couldn’t hide anymore. Didn’t want to hide anymore. “I like being with you, too,” he admitted. He liked her more than he should.

  Leaning up, hesitant, she placed a soft kiss on his lips. He knew she meant it as a chaste peck, a swift kiss of solace, but he pried her lips open with his own and swept his tongue deep. At first, she stiffened. But when she relaxed, she went wild in his arms. She came alive, plunging her tongue into his mouth, moaning her demands, fisting her hands in his hair and fueling his own response.

  The air around them sizzled and that sizzle simmered in his blood. Her body pressed to his, her lithe curves a pe
rfect fit. He’d gladly sprint to his death if only to die with her taste in his mouth. He reveled in her flavor, sweet and guileless, like the purest ocean, and unlike any female he’d ever tasted.

  With a groan, he gripped her by the waist, clenching the fabric of her sheer gown in his hands. He settled her on top of him. He didn’t care if cameras watched them. He didn’t care that she was wrong for him. His need for her was too great. He deepened the kiss, exploring more of her mouth, running his tongue over her teeth. He allowed his fingers to trace a path down her spine, allowed them to cup her bottom and anchor her snugly against his growing erection.

  She gasped his name, and the moment she did, she seemed to snap out of her haste. She tore her face from him. Their gazes locked, all hot and needy; their ragged exhalations blended. He fought the urge to tug her back down.

  “Alex?” she said on a fragile catch of breath.

  His hands shook as he smoothed pale strands of hair out of her face. “Yes, Teira.” His voice sounded slow and slurred, yet it had nothing to do with drugs and everything to do with the woman in his arms. His need for her surpassed any he’d ever known.

  She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, and he watched as its plumpness tugged free. His shaft jerked in response. Then she leaned down, placing her lips next to his ear. “I can take us to freedom.”

  He paused, absorbing her words. “How?” he whispered fiercely, his arms tightening around her.

  The corners of her lips turned up in a wry grin. “I stole a medallion.”

  Alex’s smile matched hers. He laughed. They just might be able to escape. Which meant he could feed this woman real food—then spend the next few days with her in bed.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DARIUS GAZED AT the sights around him.

  Buildings towered as far as the eye could see, stretching toward the skyline—a skyline that was wide and open, cloudy, not filled with crystal and water. Colors, so many colors. They glowed from signs; they blurred together as masses of people strode past him. Even the sun shone brightly of yellow, orange and gold. What struck him most of all, however, was the multitude of scents that intermingled and cloyed the air.

  The overload to his senses was strangely welcoming.

  This place did not offer the lush, green foliage of his home, yet New York was beguiling and lovely in its own right. A place that called out to the beast within him—just as Grace did.

  When this was over, he would—No, he could not think that way. He could not allow himself to envision Grace in his future. He must finish this.

  Some of his men were surrounding Javar’s palace, preventing the humans from spreading their violence further. Still…his fists clenched. The fact that they lived offended him.

  And he did not like to be offended.

  Beside him, Grace skirted around a table overflowing with photos. “We’ll be there soon,” she said, glancing up at him. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

  She had changed into new clothing after her bath. She looked edible. Pale blue pants clung to her legs and a sea-green shirt molded itself to her breasts. She was like an ocean wave, utterly captivating, magical. He could have drowned in her and died happy. “Do not concern yourself with me.”

  “You could whisk us to Argonauts and save us the walk,” she said. “I’m anxious to question them again.”

  Darius, too, was anxious to question them, but he couldn’t whisk about in this city. To do so, he had to visualize his target. He knew nothing of this area, he thought, letting his gaze scan. A trickle of sweat dripped into his eyes, and he wiped it away.

  The sun continued to beat down upon him, growing hotter with every step he took. Usually his body embraced heat. Now he fought a deepening lassitude. He stumbled when his foot caught on a rock. One corner of his lips lifted in a scowl as he steadied himself. He despised frailty of any kind, especially his own.

  “You’re not okay,” Grace said, her concern more concentrated. She clasped his arm and tried to pull him aside.

  He shook off her hold and kept walking in the direction she’d given him earlier. A woman’s concern was not something he knew how to deal with. This woman’s concern was something he couldn’t deal with.

  I’m going to bed and kill you before I leave, he almost shouted. Don’t waste what’s left of your life caring for me.

  Scowl solidifying, he stepped out onto the street. He wanted his peaceful, emotionless existence back. No more of this I-want-her I-can’t-hurt-her nonsense.

  No more!

  Pain suddenly flashed through his head. A pain more intense than anything he’d ever experienced. He doubled over with it, cursing the gods all the while.

  “Darius!” Grace shouted, grabbing him by the arm and jerking him toward her. “Look out.”

  A honk sounded. A whiz. Cars swerved out of the way.

  Fear halted Grace’s heartbeat as a taxi nearly clipped Darius’s side. The organ kicked back into gear only when she had ushered him to the safety of the sidewalk. Along the way, she accidentally bumped into a young woman headed in the opposite direction. “I’m sorry,” she said, jumping out of the way to avoid the coffee spilling from the girl’s cup.

  “Watch where you’re going,” the girl fumed, never actually slowing.

  “Darius, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” Too afraid to release him, she clenched his hand and faced him. “We’re not moving from this spot until you do.”

  “My time here is running out,” he said.

  She studied him. His sculpted features were taut, his lips tight, and the fine lines around his eyes strained. “You’ve said that before. What happens if you stay too long?”

  He shrugged. One minute ticked into another, but he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t acknowledge her again in any other way. He simply watched as men, women and children continued to skip past them, some talking and laughing. Some arguing.

  Maybe he thought she would use the knowledge against him. She didn’t know, but was determined to help him. “Look at me, Darius. Please look at me.”

  His gaze descended gradually, falling from the building tops, to the neon signs, and finally to her. When their gazes connected, her jaw dropped slightly. As she looked at him, she saw many things. Heart wrenching things. She saw pain in his eyes, as well as traces of guilt and sadness. And, beneath it all, was the slightest glimmer of…hopelessness?

  “When we returned from the cave,” she said, “you were weak and pale, but after you drank the lemonade you felt better. If you’ll wait here, I’ll buy you something to eat.”

  The guilt in his eyes increased, and she wondered at its origin. But he nodded slowly, and her concern for him overrode everything else. “I will wait,” he said.

  She raced inside the bakery. Fresh ground coffee beans, with a hint of vanilla, and a mouthwatering array of muffins fragranced the air. She claimed a place in line. When her turn arrived, she ordered a bottled water and raisin granola bar for herself. For Darius, she ordered a sinfully rich chocolate éclair and espresso.

  With sack and beverages in hand, she rejoined Darius. He hadn’t moved from the spot where she’d left him, and he was still too pale.

  “Here,” she said, handing him the éclair and coffee. Her gaze lingered lovingly on the chocolate. How long since she’d had such a treat? Too long. She and Alex used to spend their allowance on box after box of éclairs. They’d eat as many as their stomachs could hold, and sometimes more.

  She blinked away the memory, her determination to find him growing.

  “Come on,” she said to Darius. “We’ll walk and eat at the same time.”

  As they trudged into motion, Darius sipped at his drink. Some of his color returned, and his steps became more fluid. Men gave them a wide berth, and women gave them, or rather Darius, a second—and sometimes third—glance. Grace knew those women were wondering if he looked this savage simply strolling down the street, how savage would he be making love? In his tight black shirt and tight black pants,
the man reeked of sexual pleasure.

  Darius pinched the éclair between his fingers, studying the sumptuous pastry from every angle. She watched him while she chewed her tasteless granola bar. “Just eat it,” she said.

  “It looks like creamy mud.”

  “If that’s your attitude, you deserve to eat my granola.” Mouth watering, she slapped the bar in his hand and confiscated the éclair.

  “Give that back,” he said.

  “Over my dead body.”

  “I am hungry.”

  “Well, so am I.”

  She was just about to place the chocolate reverently on her tongue, was just about to let the Bavarian cream slide right into her mouth, when Darius ripped the dessert from her hands.

  “That is mine,” he said and handed her back her granola bar.

  Ready to pounce on him, she growled low in her throat.

  His lips twitched. “Why did you not buy yourself one of these if you want it so badly?”

  “Because—Just because!” Grace chugged down her water, letting the coldness of the liquid bring her back to her senses. I’m a rational being, she reminded herself, and I don’t need the extra fat grams. Besides, what does one dessert matter in light of all that has happened lately?

  “Do all the women on the surface refuse to buy themselves the food they want to eat?” Darius asked.

  She recapped the lid on the water bottle. “I’m not talking to you right now. You’ve tackled me to the ground, you bound me to your side, and…and you cast some sort of magic lust spell on me.” Once she said the words, Grace blinked in astonishment. Of course! A magic lust spell explained her seemingly unquenchable desire for him, as well as the fact that she often found herself thinking of him when she should be thinking of ways to find her brother.

  Slowly his lips inched into a true smile of amusement. The first he’d given her. There was a hint of possessiveness in that smile, too. His eyes darkened to gold. “You lust for me?”

  “No, I do not,” she ground out, her cheeks scalding hot. “I suspect you’re capable of such a despicable deed, that’s all.”