Jewel of Atlantis - By Gena Showalter Page 0,73

causing energy to surge through his veins. At last he reached the edge of the river, gun aimed in front of him. Jewel immediately came into view. She was in the middle of the river, the water up to her neck.

"You'll suffer if you continue with this," she said, her tone hard. "I see your death in my mind." "Our king desires a word with you," another male said.

Shit. There were at least two of them. Gray's gaze scanned, but he saw no one besides Jewel. Where were -

The two heads smoothly broke the water's surface and the men were flanking Jewel's sides, only their naked upper bodies visible. Fiery rage sparked to life inside him, the flames licking through him as one of the men reached for her. She slapped at his hands, but he managed to clasp her shoulder. Thankfully, soaked as she was, she tugged free.

Gray growled low in his throat, heat burning in his eyes. He didn't like another man's hands on her. If they hoped to rape her... His growl became a silent, feral breath as he studied his enemies. They were big, their stomachs and arms ripped with sinew and muscle. Their gargantuan size dwarfed the petite Jewel.

"Come."

"Your king can go to Hades."

Water splashed. A man grunted. Jewel gasped.

Gray crouched down, keeping his arm steady. Perhaps, with the right angle, he could kill them both with a single bullet. The men closed in on Jewel, gliding through the water effortlessly. So effortlessly, the water never even rippled. It was as if they were floating.

"Come on, Pru," Gray whispered. "Move to your left." At the moment, she blocked his shot.

"You're coming with us. Understand? If you fight, you might be hurt and we do not wish to hurt you."

They continued to close in on her. Gray cursed under his breath. He couldn't risk shooting one and giving the other time to abscond with Jewel. God, he wished he had his rifle and a case of hollow point bullets. They left a nasty hole going in and a crater going out.

"I warned you," Jewel said. Scowling, she bent her arm and jerked up her elbow, landing a solid blow to the closest man's nose.

He bellowed in pain, the other guy merely watching in shock as his friend wiped at the blood streaming down his face.

"You hit me. You hit me!"

"You hit him!"

"Well, of course I did. And I'll do it again if you come near me."

"Witch!" The idiot launched himself at her, his intent to hurt evident in the harsh lines of his expression. Gray squeezed the trigger.

The big guy dropped into the water like a lead weight, a red cloud already forming around him.

"Brackin. Brackin! What's wrong?" When the dying - or dead - man failed to respond, the friend darted a confused look around him. His gaze collided with Gray's, his features narrowed and darkened.

Gray raised the gun as if he meant to shoot again. The man panicked, grabbed his friend and dove under the water's surface. A glistening tail slapped droplets in every direction.

His eyes widened. Tail? Shit. He'd forgotten about the merpeople. He rose. "Get over here, Jewel. Now." He barked the command in the same tone he used for his subordinates, but didn't wait for her to obey. He chugged into the water, heading straight toward her. He'd drag her out if necessary.

She hadn't moved at the sound of his gun being fired, but she whipped around at the sound of his voice. Her color was high, her eyes bright. He'd expected her to appear frightened. Instead, she appeared excited.

"Did you see what I did?" She grinned. "I hit him."

"Get out of the water," he barked. His stomach had tightened with desire at the first hint of that smile, and now was not the time for sexual thoughts. He wanted her as far away from this river and those mermen as possible. Jewel would be safest at camp.

"Did you hear me? I said get out of the water."

Unaffected by his brusqueness, she swam to the shallow bank, meeting him halfway. As she ascended from the dappled liquid, the white undergarments she wore clung to her curves like a dedicated lover, revealing the pink thrust of her nipples and the dark patch of hair between her legs.

He had to force himself to look away. When she was within arms' reach, he clasped her by the forearm and helped her to shore.

"Don't touch me. I'll make you wet," she protested.

"That's my line," he

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