Jewel Of Atlantis

Another hour passed, this one in silence as they each mulled their own thoughts. All the while he climbed up a steep, dangerous mountain, fast losing his bout of energy.

Finally—God, finally—Jewel uttered the magic words his tired, exhausted body longed to hear.

You’ll be safe here.

Gray immediately tossed his bag onto the ground and made camp. Only when he lay atop his bedroll, the stolen yellow toga acting as his pillow, did he allow himself to drink in the scenery. He was perched atop the highest ledge of the mountain, overlooking a breathtaking vista of trees and flowers, and a waterfall that glistened like liquid pearls. So clear it was, he could see the mossy bottom.

Exotic birds with bright, colorful feathers soared around him, calling to one another in a symphony of squawks and cries. This was, quite possibly, the most beautiful sight he’d ever beheld.

Above him arched the crystal dome, so close he had only to reach out to touch the glistening, jagged fixture. Seawater churned in every direction, splashing one way, then another, before dancing away. Foam and mist lingered determinedly as schools of fish swam past.

I’ll warn you if anyone approaches. Sleep well, Gray.

“I won’t let myself sleep deeply. I’ll know if anyone comes close to me.”

Whatever you say. A soft melody drifted through his mind, Jewel’s sexy voice lulling him to deep, deep sleep.

His eyelids grew heavy against the dawning brightness, and he yawned. Why fight it? Slowly he surrendered to nothingness, one final thought drifting through his mind: if today was only the beginning, getting to the end was going to be one hell of a ride.

Chapter Three

“OUT OF PARADISE and straight into purgatory,” Gray muttered as he maneuvered through a thick, cackling crowd of…people. He used the term loosely. Around him meandered bull-faced men (with actual fur!), women with skin that glowed and glittered—and who also dressed in scanty, see-through robes with more cleavage than a Playboy centerfold (which he only flipped through for the articles). They reminded him of the siren he’d encountered last night, pretty and delicate.

Giant, one-eyed Cyclopses shook the ground as they walked, and griffins, half lion, half bird, raced on all fours, growling and snapping at each other, their tails whipping from side to side. Overhead, birds flew—no. Not birds, he realized. They possessed grotesquely misshapen faces, female torsos with large—very large—breasts, and the body of a bird. Talons, wings and all. Harpies, that’s what they were. With beautiful breasts. Had he mentioned those?

He was truly hard up if female birds were turning him on. Maybe it was time to renew his subscription to Playboy. For the articles.

There were a few centaurs, half man, half horse like the sheep farmer, and each of them carried long, thick clubs. A pack of giggling horned children darted past him, throwing rocks at each other as they ran.

Jewel had navigated him down the mountain and into this—whatever it was. Town? Freak fest? He’d already checked in with home base, and now gripped his knife, careful to keep the dark metal hidden within the folds of his robe. Heat stretched from the crystal dome above like a too-tight rubber band, ready to crack and break at the first sign of pressure. Still, he was glad for his robe and hood. They blended him into the crowd quite nicely. And if anyone sensed his human blood, they gave no notice.

You made it, Jewel said, breathless with excitement. You really made it. The last was barely a whisper. The closer he’d drawn to this area, the more desperate she’d become for him to reach her.

“Finally,” he muttered. “Where am I?” A salty breeze at last stirred, whisking his hood around his face.

This is the central agora—market—for the Outer City.

Only then did he notice the vendors selling their wares. Gleaming linens, sparkling jewelry and—slaves. His eyes widened. A man with green scales instead of skin and red-rimmed eyes paced in front of a line of naked humanoid men, shouting about the merits of buying them, he’d bet. What he wouldn’t give to speak Atlantean. The slaves were well muscled and streaked with dirt and whip marks, and they each wore expressions of dismay, their cheeks flushed with humiliation as they stared down at the ground.

Gray’s hands flexed and relaxed, flexed and relaxed. He wanted to cut them loose, at least try to save them, but that wasn’t his mission and he couldn’t afford to draw attention to himself. Maybe, after he found the jewel, he’d come back for them.

Those men are rapists, killers and thieves.

“Then they deserve what they get,” he said, losing all traces of pity. He turned away from them. The scent of fresh, succulent meats taunted his nose, and his mouth watered. Having eaten only one decent meal—the rest being fruits, nuts, and tasteless energy bars—in the past five days, he craved steak, so rare it mooed, with another steak on the side.

With a sexy serving wench, I’m sure.

“You got that right.”

She snorted. Since dragons control and protect the Inner City, outcasts and the more bloodthirsty races stay in this area. It’s why everyone here carries a weapon. No one trusts anyone else.

Gray intensified his guard. He even let his robe drop from his wrist, revealing the long length of his machete. Jewel was right. Everyone else had a weapon, and they weren’t afraid to show it. He’d stand out if he didn’t showcase his blade.

Someone pushed past him, jostling the backpack that was hidden under his robe and causing him to stumble forward. He growled, knife raised, ready to strike, but the bull-faced man never turned to engage.

Follow him. He’ll lead you to me.

Gray quickened his step, elbowing figures out of his way as he clambered past a tall, stone gate and toward a black crystal castle that swept a towering apex toward the dome. His gaze remained on the bull-man’s back. Anticipation unfurled in his stomach, then quickly spread through his veins.

This morning he’d finally admitted to himself that his desire to reach Jewel had less to do with his mission, and more to do with seeing her in the flesh. More than anything, he wanted to save this woman who had been his only companion for two days.

“Where are you?” he muttered quietly, not wanting the creatures surrounding him to hear his foreign tongue.

I’m at the top of the palace steps. Hurry. Gray, please hurry. I will only behere a few moments more. Iwanttosee you and know I’m not dreaming. That you’re really here.

He finally reached the bull-man and shoved him out of the way. Sweat beaded across every inch of his skin, trickling down and wetting his robe. He would have preferred to hold his gun, but there wasn’t much two bullets could do in a crowd this size. Since he hadn’t used the grenades, he had those, and would use them if necessary. He only hoped it didn’t come down to that kind of destruction.

Several beings grumbled when he continued to shoulder his way closer to the castle. Almost there. He’d see her any moment…

“What am I up against, Jewel? You never told me.” Even as he spoke, he scanned the area, searching for any signs of trouble. Searching for her. Someone stepped directly in his path, and he barreled into the man’s back, propelling him forward. Damn it, would this crowd never part? Would he never reach the steps?

I can feel your presence.

Strangely, he could feel hers. A warm, feminine energy pulsed inside him with greater intensity every step he took. Faster, faster, he strode, only then realizing she hadn’t answered his question.

And then, he forgot about his need for answers.

He was there, standing at the front of the crowd, his feet hitting the bottom of the steps. He stopped, but his gaze still moved, roving, searching, climbing the dirty, blood-soaked staircase. Where was she? His heart hammered inside his chest, nearly cracking his ribs with its fierceness. He couldn’t see her.

The centaur beside him pointed to the top left and whispered something to his female companion. Gray shifted his attention—and sucked in a shocked breath.

There she was.

He knew it was her, knew it was Jewel. And she was a stone fox. A bound stone fox, and seeing her arms tied over her head, the ropes anchoring her to a towering column, pissed him off royally.

A pristine robe draped her slender body, knotted at her right shoulder and just below her stomach. The long material hung loosely, both hiding and showcasing her curves as it billowed against her frame. Silky, jet-black hair cascaded down her back, a startling contrast against her virgin-white clothes. Even from here, he could see the creamy, flawless purity of her skin, skin that seemed to glisten like a pearl.

His stomach tightened—right along with the rest of him. In ever-growing anger at seeing her bound. In arousal at simply seeing her. Her face was as smooth and pure as his mother’s antique cameo. Not classically beautiful, but somehow so exquisite he ached simply from looking at her. Her lips were full and pink, deliciously pouty.

She was familiar to him, but he didn’t know where he’d seen her before. He only knew that he had seen her at some point in his life. How was that possible?

A black-robed man knelt in front of her, his head bowed. Too busy scanning the masses for Gray, she ignored him.

“I’m here,” Gray whispered. “Toward your left.”

Her chin snapped up and turned in his direction.

Their gazes collided.