The Nymph King (25 page)

“Where are they, your parents?”

“They died many years ago. My father died in battle and my mother's sadness took her not long after.”

My God, Shaye thought. To be so devoted to someone you actually died without them. Simply lost the will to live. It was something out of a movie, yet a part of her she didn't want to acknowledge understood such devotion. She was frightened, and yet for the first time, utterly excited by the prospect.

“I'm sorry you lost them,” she said softly.

“Uh-oh. You are showing your sweet side again.”

She grinned. “How dare you say such a thing. I'm a hard-core bitch.”

“And you hate the things I do to you.”

“Hate them,” she agreed with a laugh.

His breath tunneled into her ear, followed by his tongue. Her hands tangled in his hair as she trembled.

“Just like you hate me,” he breathed.

She couldn't give him the words he wanted so she gave him these instead. “Yes,” she whispered. “I hate you so very much.”

“Good. Because I'm going to hate you until you can't imagine life without me.”

Too late,
her mind whispered as he slid into her.

L
EAVING
S
HAYE ASLEEP
in his bed—
their
bed, Valerian amended—was the hardest thing he'd ever done. Her soft, pale tresses tapered over the violet sheets, as ethereal as a dream. Her features were relaxed, the sandy length of her lashes casting shadows over her cheekbones. Her lips were plump and rosy from his kisses.

He'd already dressed, had hastily tugged on a black shirt and pants before he'd lost his resolve to leave. As leader of this palace, it was his duty to see to his guests. But more than that, he wanted to see to the palace's defenses and ensure they were well fortified, strong enough to withstand the most violent of attacks.

This peaceful reprieve the vampires had given them would not last long, he knew. Darius would be back. Valerian only hoped it would be later rather than sooner. The longer he had to solidify his bond with Shaye, the better.

He couldn't resist placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose—which proved to be a mistake. She muttered under her breath, an airy gurgling of unintelligible words. One of them might have been his name. He was suddenly rock hard for her, so aroused it was as if he'd never taken her.
Leave. Now. Before you can't.

Forcing one foot in front of the other required all of his concentration. But he did it, his quick stride widening the distance. Now that Shaye had decided to stay, he knew she would begin to make his home her own, gifting it with little touches of her personality.

Flowers would most likely fill the rooms, and he would take great pleasure in procuring them for her. Paintings, colored stones, beaded pillows. He would take her into the city and purchase everything she wanted, everything she needed. All the things women used to make a home, well, a home. She would want for nothing, her every wish his to grant.

He was grinning as he entered the dining hall. Vampires surrounded the table. Most clutched goblets filled with some type of blood, he was sure. Several nymphs were here, though most were on duty and if not on duty, loving a woman. There were no females present.

Layel, who had claimed the head of the table, spotted him and motioned him over.

“Acting as king of the place, already?” Valerian said with a grin. He plopped onto the now-vacant spot beside his friend.

“Of course.” Layel sipped at his goblet. “I don't think you've ever looked so sated, Valerian.”

“Mated life agrees with me.”

A curtain of sadness flittered over Layel's expression. “I remember it well, mated life.”

Layel had lost his mate years ago. She'd been a human, descended from those the gods had banished from the surface and dropped into the city for punishment. A rogue group of dragons had raped and burned her. Not Darius,
but a contingent of his tutor's men. It did not matter to Layel that Darius was innocent. The vampire king despised all dragons and wanted them destroyed.

Valerian recalled well the devastation Layel had endured when he'd discovered his lover's charred remains. His grief had been severe and gut-wrenching.

“The dragons have captured a group of nymph females,” Valerian said, “and that is something I cannot allow.”

“It would be my pleasure to retrieve them for you,” the vampire king said with relish.

“No. I will not have your vampires go after them. I would like to send my own men, but if I do so, I will need to make up for the loss here.”

“You wish us to remain?”

He nodded. “If you are able.”

Layel didn't hesitate. “You need us, we stay. There is nothing more to discuss.”

Layel had always been that way. Loyal. Giving of himself and his time. That was why Valerian valued his friendship as he did. There were not many men so willing to help a race other than their own.

Those who earned the vampire king's wrath, however, were enemies for life. Layel lived for their suffering. He never forgot a wrong.

“Thank you, my friend.” Valerian clapped him on the back. “If you ever need me, I am here.”

Layel's face was as pale as Shaye's, yet a rush of color suffused his cheeks. “You are a cherished friend, Valerian.”

“As are you.” He stood. “Take what animals you need. If you have need of women, which I'm sure you
will, you will have to get them from the Outer City yourself, I'm afraid. They have been hiding from us.”

Layel gave a booming laugh. “That means they are smart.”

Valerian snorted. He didn't offer the use of the human women, and Layel didn't ask for the honor. A nymph might share his lover with other nymphs, but not with other creatures. The women would then carry that creature's scent and no male liked another creature's smell on his lover. Well, that wasn't entirely true. He could recall several of his men who became excited by that.

“We will talk again soon,” he said. “I must now see to the palace.”

“I know you, Valerian. You might see to the palace, but your true goal is to get back to your bed.”

He grinned wickedly. “Yes, you do know me well.”

 

A
HARD
,
CALLUSED HAND
slapped over Shaye's mouth. She came awake instantly, a scream lodged in her throat. It emerged as nothing more than a quiet murmur. She knew the hand did not belong to Valerian. It smelled different, not as erotic, like a storm about to fall. It did not spark awareness inside her.

Vampire, perhaps? Valerian had mentioned the vampires were inside the palace. Panicked, she swung her fist and connected with something solid. Her captor grunted.

“Do not move again, woman. We will not hurt you.”

Undeterred, she thrashed and kicked.

“We will not hurt you,” that deep, accented voice said. “Please, be still.”

We? Her gaze darted throughout the darkness. What she wouldn't have given for a flashlight just then. Scratch that. A stun gun or a knife was what she needed. She wrapped her fingers around the man's wrist and jerked.

“If I must, I will render you unconscious and neither of us will like how I do that.”

She stilled, knowing that to be unconscious was to lose this battle completely. If she could break free, she could run and scream and find Valerian.

“Good,” the man—vampire?—said. “Now, I'm going to remove my hand. If you draw your lover here, we will kill him without hesitation. Understand?”

One nod in the affirmative. Inside, she screamed and screamed and screamed. No.
No!
Valerian was strong, but he was also flesh and blood. She didn't know how many men were inside the room. She didn't know what weapons they possessed.

She had to warn him without drawing him into an ambush. What could she do?
Think, Shaye, think.

As promised, the man removed his hold on her mouth. She dragged in a shaky breath. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“We are dragons, and we are going to take you home.”

Dragons. The enemy. Dear God.
They will ravish you and burn you,
Valerian had said. She shook her head, tendrils of hair slapping her cheeks. “I
am
home.”

“That's what the others said, but it didn't sway us from our purpose.”

“You can't take me. I won't let you.”
I promised Valerian I'd stay. Valerian!
her mind shouted. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the dark. She counted four sil
houettes, each larger than the other. Weapons of all shapes and sizes were strapped to their bodies.

“We can do whatever we want,” one of the men said with amusement. “Sit up. Slowly.”

She did as instructed, and the sheet tumbled to her waist. Cool air kissed her bare skin. Gasping, she jerked the sheet up. “I'm naked.” She hadn't meant to blurt the words aloud, but the realization had shocked her.
Stupid. Idiot! Why don't you just ask them to rape you.

“Here,” another of them said. He was at her left. “Put this on.”

A bundle of material was shoved over her head, surprising her. “Why are you doing this?” she demanded, quickly pulling it down. It was a robe, soft and sheer but a covering nonetheless.

“It is the will of the gods,” was the calm reply. “Stand. Keep your arms to your side.”

She inched from the bed as quietly as possible, hoping they wouldn't sense her exact location. The door was to the left, and she inched one step, then two. Then she broke into a full run. Strong arms anchored around her before she reached the curtain, bringing her to a dead stop.

“Damn you,” she muttered, flailing. “Let me go.”

“Woman, I warned you.”

Knowing he meant to knock her out, Shaye increased her struggles. She slashed with her nails, tugged her captor's hair, and punched him in the stomach. “I'm going to pray your gods curse you!”

“They already have.” A heavy sigh. “I'm sorry to do this, but you've given me no choice.”

Someone muttered a series of unintelligible words
and a wave of lethargy swept through her. Her eyelids drifted shut, so heavy she could not hold them open. Sleep called to her, as alluring as any nymph.
Help,
she tried to scream, knowing that to fall asleep was to be taken from Valerian. She needed more time with him.

Sleep…sleep…no.
She shook her head.
Scream.
She opened her mouth, but no sound emerged. And still sleep called to her, beckoning. Lulling.

“She's a fighter,” someone said in awe.

“I've never seen the like.”

“She should have dropped by now.”

“Sleep, woman. On the morrow, you will not remember any of this.”

Strength abandoned her limbs, slowly, quickly. She wasn't sure. Time ceased to exist. Utter darkness crept gnarled fingers inside her mind.
Fight…fight…fi…

She knew nothing else.

W
ITH THE NIGHT'S
activities complete and morning fast approaching, the palace fortified, his guests seen to, Valerian raced back to his bedroom. Urgency filled him. He wanted Shaye again. He hungered for her. The more time he spent with her, the more he needed her. The more time he spent without her, the more he needed her.

He just needed her.

And he sensed that she needed him. A moment ago, he'd heard her voice in his mind, calling out to him. He quickened his pace, speeding through the hallway, through the curtain blocking him from his room. He'd strip, then crawl into bed beside Shaye and awaken her with his mouth between her legs. She'd scream his name, the sound echoing between—

He stopped abruptly. He stood at the edge of the bed, golden rays of light streaming over its emptiness. Only rumpled sheets remained. “Shaye,” he called.

When silence greeted him, he spun, searching. She had not been in the bathing pool; he would have seen her when he passed. “Shaye?”

Again, only silence. Thick, frightening silence. Where had she gone? He didn't want her roaming the
halls alone. He wanted nothing taken for granted where Shaye's safety was concerned. He didn't allow himself to panic—yet. Her scent covered the walls, permeating his senses. But there was another scent…his nose crinkled and he frowned, hoping he simply smelled the ones who'd lived here before him.

He stepped into the bathing room, then into the hallway. For twenty minutes he searched the main areas: the dining hall—receiving curious glances—the training room, the weapons room in case she'd gotten lost. He'd been remiss in his duty toward her. He should have taught her the layout of the palace.

Everyone he encountered, he demanded to know if they'd seen her. No one had. In fact, several warriors were looking for their women, as well.

“I cannot find Brenna,” Joachim said, worry thick in his voice.

So, Joachim had taken Brenna from Shivawn—or maybe Shivawn had given her to the man. Valerian didn't know and at the moment he didn't care. All that mattered was Shaye.

“I cannot find my bed partner,” another said.

“I cannot find mine.” Still another.

Hearing this, Valerian finally allowed his panic free rein. He sprinted to the cave. Surely Shaye hadn't left him, hadn't led all the women into the portal. She'd promised to stay. She'd told him she desired time with him. She had been so close to giving him her love. Had she changed her mind?

Had she lied?

Sweat trickled from his skin. Tension thrummed and pulsed. What if she had tricked him? Had gained his
trust so he would leave her alone, without a guard, so she could gather the other humans and—

No, he told himself. No. She would not have left him willingly. She hadn't lied. Last time he'd seen her, she'd worn a soft, sated expression. Vulnerability had glinted in her eyes as she vowed to trust him. She'd said she craved fidelity from him and those were not the words of a woman intent on leaving.

He pounded his fist into the wall. When he'd held her in his arms, there had been truth between them.

That meant only one thing. She had to have been taken. But where? And by whom? He'd smelled dragon in his room. Had his enemy returned more quickly than he'd anticipated? If so, why had they taken the women and not killed a single nymph?

Damn this! What in Hades had happened? He swung around and backtracked to the top floor, leaving the coldness of the cave behind. He ran into Broderick.

“Where are the women?” Broderick asked. “I am in need of a lover.”

“They have been taken. It happened within the last few hours, so there is a good chance they are still here. Keep searching.” Yet there was nowhere else to look and he knew it. He'd been through the palace top to bottom.

He stalked into the dining hall. Layel still sat at the table, staring into emptiness, sadness consuming his features. Valerian's teeth ground together. If the women had been taken out of the palace and into the Outer City… It was not a place for unarmed females. Demons would eat anything, for they survived on fear and carnage. They would view the women as succulent treats.

“Layel,” he said. He did not think the vampire or his
people responsible. Blood would have stained the floor, the beds, something. “I need your help.”

His friend jolted upright. “It is yours.”

“Can you and your people withstand the light?”

“Most of us.”

“You can scent humans as no one else. Take your vampires through the forest and into the city and search for our women. Someone has taken them.”

In a movement so fluid it was almost undetectable, Layel stood. “I will do as you've asked. Do you stay or do you go?”

Valerian didn't know what to do. If he stayed and Shaye was in the city, she would not know Layel and would fight him, perhaps getting hurt in the process. But if Valerian left, and she was still inside the palace, perhaps being hidden and held against her will, he would never forgive himself for leaving her.

Indecision and frustration ate at him. Fear and hope slicked through him. Go? Stay? “I will go,” he finally said. “Ready your men.”

Layel nodded and rushed off.

Valerian raced into his room and gathered the dragon medallion he'd tossed aside when making love with Shaye. He stuffed it in his pocket before hunting down Broderick, who had a small contingent of armed warriors stomping through every room, questioning other nymphs and vampires. “I am going into the city. Send a messenger if they are found…whatever you find,” he added starkly.

Broderick nodded.

Alone, Valerian dropped to his knees and prayed. For the first time in his life, he prayed. He beseeched the gods,
begging them to surround Shaye in a hedge of protection, to bring her back to him, healthy and whole. “I will trade my own life for her. Gladly,” he said to the heavens.

Still torn apart inside, still raw and frantic, he stood and raced outside. The vampires possessed an unnatural speed. They would move much faster without him, and as much as he wanted to reach Shaye first, he would not hinder them.

At the outer gates, the vampires gathered, preparing for the search. “Do not let me slow you down,” he told Layel. “Move as quickly as you can, and I will make my own way. Gather any human females you find.”

Layel's eyes glowed bright, vivid blue. “We will find her, Valerian.”

Valerian turned away before he broke down, just fell to his knees and sobbed. Loss was not new to him, but this loss would kill him. “Go.” The single word was hoarse, scratching his burning throat. “Go.”

The vampires leapt into action; one moment they were there, the next moment they weren't. Valerian entered the stable and mounted the same centaur that had taken Shaye and him to the city only a day ago. They raced around trees and quicksand, as he continually shouted Shaye's name. Pausing, listening for any sign of her.

She was not in the forest.

She was not in the Outer City, either. None of the humans were. He spent all day looking, until dusk fell once again. Seething emotions pulsed through him. Fear. So much fear. Where was she? She was not…dead. He could barely even think the hated word. He would feel it. As her mate, he would know. Just as he'd known when his twin had died, all those years ago. Wouldn't he?

He left Layel and his army in the city with instructions to continue the hunt, then he returned to the palace. When he reached the gates, he dismounted and ran inside without a word. As he ran, he withdrew the dragon medallion from his pocket. The crystal door split apart and closed behind him.

The palace was eerily silent, none of his men anywhere to be seen. “Broderick,” he called. “Joachim. Shivawn.” He ground to a halt. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood at attention, and he encountered the same faint scent he'd smelled in his room. He quickly withdrew his sword from the sheath at his side.

“Your men are otherwise occupied,” a voice said above him.

A dragon voice. Darius's voice.

Lips thinning in a fierce scowl, Valerian looked up. There, circling him from the second floor, was the entire dragon army. “What did you do with my woman?”

“We sent her home, nymph. We sent her home.”