by Alyssa Day
“Daniel, I need your help.”
He sighed. The four deadliest words in any language, especially when spoken by a damsel in distress. He smiled at the thought of a woman who could become a saber-toothed tiger ever being a damsel in distress, but what the hell. He had his little quirks—the delusion that he could ever be a white knight foremost among them—and he was way past believing he could change.
“You’re smiling?” Her voice rose, and he could tell she was annoyed. She’d gotten that little frown on her face, the same patrician, aristocratic expression that had warned her guards all those years ago that they’d better leave her alone for a while or face a highly unpleasant few hours.
“You need my help, and I gladly and most willingly give it, my lady,” he said, sweeping his best, if quite rusty, bow. He’d been a blacksmith, not a courtier. “But I need more of the facts. What is the Emperor doing to you, and what do you need my help with?”
“It’s connected to me and to the other maidens, who are still in stasis, and somebody is trying to use it. Someone has already tried to channel magic through it, and it nearly killed him . . . no, her,” she said thoughtfully. “It felt like female magic. She’s gone now, from my awareness, either dead or unconscious, but for a moment we were connected. I could feel the others, too. If this woman, this witch, tries to wield the Emperor again, it could kill us all.”
At the thought of Serai’s death, the breath left Daniel’s body so fast and hard he nearly doubled over, but instead he put his hands on the hilts of the daggers he always wore, even in Washington.
Actually, especially in Washington.
“We need to find it. Now,” he said, and his voice rasped as he formed the words.
“I can feel it,” she said. “I think I can find it. We should leave now.” She started toward the cave entryway, but stumbled before she’d gotten three steps.
“You have to rest first,” Daniel said, catching her before she could fall, and steeling himself against the punch of bloodlust. “Sleep. Your body isn’t used to so much activity. I don’t know how you’re walking at all, actually, after such a long period of inactivity. How are your muscles not atrophied?”
“The Emperor and the high priests over the years took care of that. Magic can achieve what science cannot, after all. Think of it. How am I even alive in a world that has changed beyond any possibility of recognition?”
She pulled away from him a little but then surrendered to his unspoken demand, leaning back against his chest and sighing. Daniel realized she was trembling, and he swept her into his arms and carried her back over to the pallet. He arranged the blankets around her again, prepared to wait on the floor near the entry way, blocking anyone from entering, but she stopped him with one slender hand on his arm. He stared down at the curve of her wrist and at her delicate fingers, wondering how something so clearly fragile had the power to stop him in his tracks.
“Please, stay with me?” she whispered. “I’m afraid to fall asleep. I’ve slept so long and . . . what if I never wake up? Please stay with me and promise me you’ll wake me. Promise you won’t let me slip away.”
He looked up and was trapped. Caught in her gaze, fixed—immovable—by the crystalline hint of tears tangled in her long lashes. “I’ll stay. Rest now, and we’ll find your Emperor when you wake up.”
She didn’t close her eyes or relax a single muscle, and he realized she needed to hear the words.
“I promise,” he said, and with a long, gentle sigh, she relaxed back onto the blankets, closed her eyes, and almost immediately fell into an exhausted sleep. He sat next to her, fighting his own need for sleep, content to watch her. An hour or so later, a quiet noise alerted him to Quinn’s presence in the entryway.
“Is that her? The one you left behind?” Quinn looked tired; even more tired and thinner than the month before when he’d last seen her.
“Yes. This is Serai,” he said quietly, not wanting to wake his sleeping beauty.
“Get some rest, Daniel. I’ve got some of my top people on lookout. We’re safe here.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Even from Jack?”
“Even from Jack,” she said, smiling a little. “He’s still unhappy about the blood bond. We need to talk about that sometime,” she added, her smile fading.
“I know.”
She turned to leave, and then looked back. “I’m happy for you, Daniel. Don’t screw this up.”
“But that’s what I do best,” he whispered when he was sure Quinn could no longer hear him. He finally gave in to the impulse that had been driving him and smoothed a stray curl away from Serai’s pale cheek. He thought of Quinn and the unwanted blood bond, and then of Deirdre, dying to protect him.
“I’ll kill for you,” he vowed to Serai’s sleeping form. “I’ll die for you. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do to keep you safe. And then I’ll leave you, because that’s the best gift I could ever give you. My absence.”
She curled toward him, into the heat of his body, as if agreeing, and his resolve hardened even as his heart turned to ash inside his chest. He’d already planned to die once this day. Another time was no hardship at all, he swore to himself.
No hardship at all.
Chapter 7
Quinn entered the main chamber of the cavern, deep in thought but still on her guard, to see that another Atlantean had joined the party. Some days she wished she’d never heard of the so-called lost continent, or at least that it had stayed lost. Hard to forget it, though, when her sister was married to the high prince and would soon be queen. Delicate, sweet Riley, queen of Atlantis. It boggled Quinn’s mind. Or it would have, if she hadn’t been living in a world gone crazy since the day nearly eleven years ago when vampires and shape-shifters worldwide had announced to the planet that they really did exist and then promptly started taking over, by any means necessary.
The political means were somebody else’s problem, not Quinn’s. It was the violent means employed by almost all bloodsuckers and the rogue shape-shifters that Quinn concerned herself with these days, and had for the past several years. A girl needed to keep busy, after all. Especially when the girl was leader of the entire North American rebel faction.
Not all of the humans were content to become sheep for the taking.
Her gaze returned to the Atlantean warrior taking up more than his fair share of space in the room, chatting with some of her people. Another ally, although a dangerous and probably unstable one. She could work with that, though. Hell, most of her best friends were dangerous and unstable. By the time she reached him, she was grinning.
“Reisen. Good to see you. How did it go?”
He raised an eyebrow, probably at her uncharacteristic good humor, and then waved at her with the arm that ended in a badly healed, scarred stump just above where his wrist had been before he’d pissed off one of the worst vampires ever to suck blood.
“Only one hand in the grave, so it’s a good day,” he said, grinning back at her.
It was her turn to be surprised. She didn’t think she’d ever seen Reisen smile. He was an Atlantean lord who’d been exiled for daring to touch Poseidon’s trident, or steal it, or something awful. Tried to stage a coup, maybe. The details were murky, and none of the Atlantean warriors she’d met had ever felt the need to enlighten her. Reisen himself had come to her and joined the human rebels with a need for vengeance—or maybe redemption—and a damn near suicidal fervor. He’d insisted on taking any mission that had the absolute least chance of success, and somehow he’d made it out of every single one not only alive but successful.
Usually injured, sometimes near death, but always successful. But never, ever smiling.
Until now.
Which, Quinn being Quinn, made her suspicious.
“Why are you smiling? What kind of deep-shit massive trouble have you brought me that could possibly cause you to move your rusty face muscles like that?”
He laughed, and she almost fell over. Laughed? Reisen?
“Nope,” she said. “No sign of the apocalypse. And yet Reisen just laughed. Is it some horrible bit of magic gone bad?”
Reisen crossed to stand beside her, still smiling. “You smiled, too,” he pointed out. “Which is almost as rare. So quit being such a smart ass and tell me who the Atlantean woman is that you’re hiding in this cave somewhere. Jack wouldn’t let me go seek her out.”
She suddenly realized just how very, very wrong and bad this could go. “Reisen,” she began slowly, casting around for a way to let him know that the Atlantean woman was with the vampire.
She’d been wrong. The apocalypse was on the way. Nothing good could come of this.
“I haven’t seen one of my people for almost a year now,” Reisen said, looking out at the view, his voice tense with barely suppressed excitement. He clenched and unclenched his hands, probably not even realizing he was doing it. “Did Conlan send her? Is she here to tell me I can go home?”
Quinn turned to her people and gave a hand signal, and they all headed out on patrol, giving her the room so she could talk with Reisen alone. She had no idea where Jack had gone. Probably off pouting somewhere, if tigers could ever be said to pout. Mostly, they just killed and ate whatever annoyed them.
“Reisen, I don’t know if Conlan sent her. I didn’t get the impression she was a royal emissary, but what do I know about Atlantean politics? All I know is she was in rough shape, and she and Daniel went to get some rest before they make with the explanations.”
He whirled around so fast she would have thought he had vampiric speed if she hadn’t seen Atlantean warriors in action before.
“Daniel? What in the name of Poseidon’s balls is that bloodsucker doing anywhere near an Atlantean woman?” He smashed his fist into the nearest wall so hard that chips of rock shattered and fell to the floor. “I’ll kill him. Where are they?”
She held up her hands, palms out, and stepped back so she was standing between the enraged warrior and the entrance to the short corridor that led to the room where Daniel and Serai were resting.
“Unstable and dangerous,” she muttered, sighing. “Why am I always right?”
“What are you talking about? Daniel? The vampire is unstable, too? I’ll kill him if he touches a hair on her head or a single drop of her blood.”
Reisen strode toward Quinn, not even slowing as she moved to block him. In one swift motion, he put his hands on either side of her waist and lifted her up and out of his way. She sighed. She really hated being short.
Luckily, she had other advantages in a fight.
“I’d advise you not to move,” she told him in her most pleasant voice, and he froze, hands still on her waist.
Smart man.
“You may notice my knife is pressing into your nuts, big guy. You might want those, in the future. I’ve noticed most men seem ridiculously fond of theirs,” she continued, smiling angelically up at him as she pressed a little harder with the hand holding the switchblade to his family jewels.
The color drained out of his face, and a look of horror replaced the fury in his eyes.
“I’d do what she says,” a cheerful voice added. “Have you met One-Nut Mikey? He didn’t listen and, well, you can figure out the rest.”
Quinn clenched her jaw shut against the laugh that threatened. Trust Mel to back her up and even embellish the story a little. Reisen turned his head slightly, careful not to jostle Quinn, and his eyes widened. Quinn couldn’t stop the laugh from escaping that time. Mel had that effect on people.
“Having to teach another little object lesson, Quinn?” Mel sang out, dropping her overstuffed backpack on the cavern floor and stretching her curvy body.
Reisen’s eyes widened even farther. Mel stretching was like catnip to men, and apparently Atlantean men were no exception.
“Are you ready to listen to me?” Quinn asked, drawing Reisen’s attention back to her and her pointy object lesson–giver.
He nodded. “Fine. Talk fast.”
“Ooh, this one is feisty.” Mel took off her cap and shook out her short curls, which were blond with blue tips this week. She looked like a maniacal elf princess. The mischievous kind. You’d never guess she was a brilliant computer genius. The cropped shirt and low-rider jeans, combined with the hair and the skull jewelry, certainly wouldn’t give her away. “Can I have him?”
Reisen growled, and Quinn rolled her eyes at both of them. “Down, Melody. Be nice to the Atlantean warrior. You two have to go on a mission for me. Together.”
Melody, hacker extraordinaire and occasional thief, grinned and blew Reisen a kiss. “Oh, we’re going to have so much fun.”
“I’m not going anywhere with her,” Reisen said. “I need to have a serious conversation with the Atlantean woman. Now.”
“I’d like to meet the Atlantean woman, too. This place is better than a soap opera sometimes. Where’s Jack?” Mel said, dropping to sit cross-legged on the floor and taking an apple and her laptop out of her backpack. “Speaking of excitement, what is it this time, Quinn? What can I steal for our fearless leader?”
Quinn waited until Mel swallowed the bite of apple, so she didn’t need to do any Heimlich maneuvering. “I want you to steal a bank.”
* * *
Serai stirred, swimming back up through the layers of exhaustion to wakefulness. She felt like she hadn’t slept at all, but she had certain needs that were fast becoming urgent. Physical needs she hadn’t felt in so long she hadn’t even remembered how intense they could be. Her stomach also felt like a gaping, empty hole, and she realized she was hungry. Actually hungry.
“I can eat,” she said, bolting upright on the hard pallet.
Daniel, who’d apparently been sleeping on the floor next to her, shot up into the air, both hands clutching daggers. His hair was mussed, and after her initial surprise, she wanted to laugh. He looked so funny.
Also gorgeous. Hot, even, to use the current slang.
His hair had grown long, past his shoulders, and he kept it tied back with a piece of leather cord. It was still a deep black, but there were a few strands of pure silver mixed in with the silky darkness. His features had matured; all planes and angles. He was now a dangerous, deadly man where once she’d known a boy. The thought sent a thrill of adrenaline through her, and she ducked her head to hide her blush. He must have known many women in all that time; it wasn’t as if he’d be interested in an ignorant maiden. A really, really, really old maiden.
She didn’t have time to worry about it, though, her body reminded her. She needed privacy and certain facilities. Now.
“Daniel, I need some privacy—”
“Have I offended you?” He was at her side in an instant. “Damn it, I don’t know how to treat a gentle-bred lady anymore. Not that I ever did. Whatever I—”
Her face would surely catch fire from the heat. “No. I need . . . privacy. Facilities. To . . . wash my face.”
“Oh. Oh. Of course.” He jumped up and held his hand out to her. “Let’s find out how they’re dealing with that here.”
“And then food,” she said, brushing her wrinkled skirts down. “Food and drink and things I can taste. Oh, Daniel, after all these years, I want so badly to taste everything.”
His jaw clenched and he took a deep breath in through his nose, and then he simply nodded. “Got it,” he rasped out. “Taste. Everything. Come on.”
She blushed again, not exactly sure why, but her mention of tasting everything had affected him oddly.
One of Quinn’s people, a woman with startlingly red hair, was happy to show Serai out a side passageway into the bright sunshine and
to the environmentally friendly way the small camp was dealing with personal needs, and then they met up with Daniel, who’d waited as near to the entrance to the cavern as he could get without facing full daylight.
She’d almost forgotten. He looked so normal. But nightwalkers couldn’t walk in the sun without facing a hideous death by flames. On that horrible day when invaders had attacked Atlantis, the mage who’d helped her with Daniel had told her that much before he’d disappeared and taken Daniel away from her forever. Or so she’d thought. Here he was again, and she needed every ounce of self-possession to keep from throwing herself at him like the silly girl he must think she was.
She called on the haughty demeanor she’d seen so often in her former life and lifted her chin. “Now we may eat.”
His gaze dropped to her neck and she gasped so loudly that he raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t take that as an invitation to suck your delicious blood, sweetheart,” he said sardonically. “Let’s find you some food and figure out how to find that jewel of yours.”
“It’s not mine,” she pointed out, but he’d already turned his back to her, probably disgusted with her stupidity. Of course he wasn’t going to eat her. She’d just been alone and asleep, defenseless, really, with him, and he’d never shown any signs of going mad with bloodlust and attacking her.
A small voice in her head wondered why not.
He made a beckoning motion with his hand, and she followed sedately along, drawn as much by the sheer pleasure of watching him walk—oh, the man still had the loveliest backside she’d ever seen, even if it did make her cheeks hot to think it—as by the scent of grilled meat wafting through the cavern.
“Food,” she moaned, and suddenly sedate wasn’t good enough. She lifted her skirt and all but flew after Daniel, looking for the source of that wonderful aroma. After all, she hadn’t eaten in more than eleven thousand years.
Quinn stood in the main entrance to the cave, eyes closed and face lifted to the sun. She was lovely, in a scruffy, toothin way, and Serai’s stomach clenched again, this time at the idea that there was probably much more to Quinn’s relationship with Daniel than mere friendship. She’d seen how they were with each other.