The Vampire's Bride. Gena Showalter
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too tight for his bones and his stomach was knotted.
“You’re being very rude,” she said. “I’ve killed men for less.”
“Do you want a prize?” he asked drily. Still, he managed to face the beach. Her sea-salt scent continued to tease him, strong, lovely. Hauntingly familiar.
“I’ll settle for your testicles in my trophy tent.”
That did not amuse him. “Perhaps later. At the moment, I need them.” He headed for Brand, who sat near the water’s edge, knees drawn to his chest. His back was to Layel, his braided blond hair as soaked as Delilah’s. Obviously the air shields were down, not just for Delilah but for everyone, creatures now touching one another.
As if sensing him, Brand hopped to his feet and spun. His lips curved into a grin, animosity flaring as if there had been no break between battles. “I expected you sooner.”
“I live to disappoint you. Ready to die?”
“Come and get me, bloodsucker.”
“My plea—” Layel hit the damned invisible wall again, knocking the breath right out of his lungs.
Brand’s grin became smug. “What’s the matter? Change your mind? Frightened?”
Calm. Do not show emotion.
“You’re the coward, dragon,” Delilah said, suddenly at Layel’s side. Brand’s smugness became fury.
“Can you move past this point?” Layel asked without facing her, trying to quash the pleasure that came with her defense of him.
She bristled at his harsh tone. “Can you?”
“Woman.”
“That is not my name.” She kept her gaze on Layel; he felt the heat of it. A quick glance at her proved he was right, and that her hands remained fisted, as if she expected Brand to attack her at any moment.
“Can you move past this godsdamn point, woman?”
Silence.
He waited. Even Brand waited. Still she did not speak. Had he hurt her again? Did tears swim in her lovely lavender irises? Why did the prospect not please him as much as it should?
“My name is Delilah.”
“I know.”
Her shoulder brushed his arm and he hissed. “Say my name,” she said, suddenly breathless, “and I’ll consider finding out.”
Something about her tone…pure challenge layered the wispy undercurrents, as if she wanted him to deny her. He was not sure what to make of that. “Why do you wish me to do this?”
“I want to hear my name on your tongue.”
“Again, why?”
“Because.” Stubborn as he’d come to realize she was, she said no more.
“Tell me why,” he demanded.
“Just say it!”
“No,” he said, while inside his mind he whispered Delilah, drawing out each syllable. The name was a prayer and a curse, both wonderful and evil. Unable to help himself, he looked down and studied her. So lovely, and yet so dangerous in a way she could not possibly comprehend.
A pause. A deep breath, as though she prayed for patience. “Have it your way, vampire. But if you won’t say my name, at least tell me yours.”
No reason to deny her. She would find out one way or another. “I am Layel.”
Her eyes widened. “The vampire king?”
He nodded curtly. Was that admiration now sparkling in her eyes? Surely not. “Try and step past me. Please,” he added reluctantly. It was easier to beg than to give her what she wanted.
Silent, trembling, she moved closer to Brand. Unhindered, unfettered. Irritation raced through Layel that she could do so and he could not. She did not remain there, however. She returned to Layel’s side.
“Want me to kill the dragon for you while I’m here?” she asked, as casually as if they were discussing the weather.
Brand snorted, not the least bit fearful. Foolish.
Layel gave a clipped shake of his head. “Why?” he demanded of the sky. But if the gods heard him, they gave no indication. As usual.
“Maybe I’ll do it for my own pleasure, then,” she said to Brand, ignoring Layel as her eyes narrowed. “I haven’t forgotten what was done to my sister.”
The dragon scrubbed two fingers along his jaw. “What little was done, she brought upon herself. And anyway, I have a feeling we aren’t meant to harm each other. Why else would our weapons have been taken?”
“I don’t need any weapons to take you down.” Layel stepped in front of Delilah. Not to protect her, he told himself, but to claim Brand’s attention. “Why don’t you try and breach the shield, dragon?”
“No, I don’t think I will,” Brand said. “I’m done with this conversation. Done with you, too, now that my anger has cooled. I’ll leave you at the…tender mercies of the Amazon.” Then he did the unthinkable. He walked away. Walked the hell away.
Layel’s fangs cut into his lower lip, drawing blood. He tried to follow. Couldn’t.
Delilah pivoted, in front of him again, blocking his view of the retreating dragon. “As I was saying, we have some things to discuss, you and I.”
He popped his jaw before forcing his expression to relax. She was still geared for a fight, still seemed to crave one. “Poor baby,” he said, unwilling to give her what she wanted. “Did I hurt your feelings when I abandoned you a moment ago?”
Her cheekbones pinkened, highlighting the freckles atop her dainty nose. Would she have a dimple when she smiled? If she ever smiled, that is. So far, the Amazon had only glared at him.
Susan had had two dimples, and she’d rarely been without a smile. One that had always entranced him. So why did Delilah’s glare affect him just as powerfully?
Layel almost beat himself in the temples to dislodge that torturous thought. He would not compare another woman to Susan. There was no comparison. She had no equal, then or now.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Delilah asked, now curious rather than upset. “In fact, why are you looking at me at all? You said you would not.”
Because I am a terrible husband. “How was I looking at you?” He stared past her, past the water to the crystal dome that was so close, yet so far away. Like I want to draw you close and push you away at the same time? Like I want to both taste you and kill you? Like you’re dangerous in a way you have no right to be?
“Like I’m a disgusting demon,” she said.
She wasn’t a demon; she was far worse. Admitting it would have given her power over him, though. “Why did you approach me, Amazon? What do you want from me? And understand that I will not fight with you, no matter what you say. Not now. You will stop trying to provoke me.”
“I wasn’t trying to provoke you,” she said, indignant.
“You succeeded nonetheless. I asked you a question. You will answer it.”
At first, she gave no reaction to his words. Then her lips pursed. Those lush, beautiful lips. What would they feel like against his skin? What would—
With a hiss, she kicked out her leg, knocking his ankles together as he’d done to hers in the forest. At the same time, she pushed his shoulders, propelling him backward and giving him no way to balance or catch himself. When he landed, he landed hard, breathing a thing of the past.
You knew better than to allow yourself to be distracted in the presence of an Amazon