Vampire in Atlantis wop-7

by Alyssa Day

  Maybe the love Jack felt for Quinn—and hers for him, though it was not the bond she shared with Alaric—would be enough. It was beyond his reach now. He turned to Quinn.

  “I don’t know if he’ll ever return,” he warned her. “All I know is that he’s somewhere in there. Deep inside, or maybe even not inside the tiger but very nearby. But he won’t come back because we push him. He warned me quite specifically that if we try, he’ll choose never to come back.”

  Quinn narrowed her eyes. “If he thinks he’s more stubborn that I am, he’s sadly mistaken. Let’s go, Alaric. Take us away, and give me time to let this tiger heal and find himself again.”

  Alaric simply nodded, then took her hand in one of his and made a motion with the other that lifted the tiger on a shimmering pillow of pure energy. The portal, now large enough for a half dozen warriors to enter walking side by side, glowed brightly in the moonlit night. Daniel looked around to see that the piles of decaying vampire remains had all melted into the ground and vanished in the darkness.

  Reisen, who’d been standing behind the group around Jack, and whom Daniel hadn’t even noticed until then, gazed at the portal with such stark longing on his face that Alaric paused when he saw the warrior.

  “Do others here need healing? I forget my duties.”

  Reisen shook his head. “No, we have only minor injuries in those still alive. You . . . you go to Atlantis?”

  “You can return home,” Alaric told Reisen. “Your exile was self-imposed. Conlan offered forgiveness and healing.”

  Reisen took a deep breath, but stayed where he was. “I have one final mission to perform for Quinn.”

  Melody, her face badly bruised from the fight, looked up at Reisen and put a hand on his arm. “Thank you. For what you did during that fight, too. I’d be dead on the ground if not for you, and the world would be short one majorly terrific hacker.”

  She tried to smile but failed miserably, and tears ran freely down her face as she turned her gaze to Quinn. “Take care of Jack for me, Boss. I’ll be on top of things here.”

  Quinn nodded, but didn’t even glance back. She was already walking ahead of Alaric to the portal, one hand still in Jack’s fur.

  Alaric turned to Daniel just before he stepped into the glowing oval of light. “Six women and the fate of Atlantis herself depend upon what happens to that gemstone, Daniel. Don’t let them down. Since she won’t return to Atlantis, I’ll send help. A lot of help.”

  “We don’t need help from those who imprison women for thousands of years, failed priest,” Serai said, her eyes again perfectly dark, completely blue. The power hadn’t left her, then. “If I return now, I lose any chance to retrieve the Emperor. I might be safe, since I’m out of the pod, but I won’t trade my life for theirs.”

  “She stays,” Daniel said. “But we’ll take whatever help we can get to keep her safe.”

  Serai glared at him, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t risk her life for foolish pride, neither her pride nor his. When she was thinking clearly again, she’d agree. Alaric nodded, and then the unlikely trio moved through the gate: the priest, the rebel leader he loved, and the tiger who might never recover his humanity.

  When the light from the portal vanished, swallowing the three, everyone watching exhaled as if they’d all been holding their breath by mutual agreement.

  “This sucks beyond all reason,” Melody said, her tearstained face at odds with her flippant words. “I’ m heading into town for a hotel room and a hot shower. Tomorrow morning is early enough to decide on a plan. Anybody with me?”

  “I’m not leaving you until this mission is complete,” Reisen said flatly. “Lead on. We must, however, discover who those vampires were, and why they attacked. Are they with the vampire controlling this region? Nicholas? Are they in league with the witches?”

  “Or, worse, working for that human banker,” Daniel said grimly. “For tonight—what’s left of it—we should find shelter and rest.”

  “Yes,” Serai said. “I’d like to experience a hotel before I . . .”

  As her voice trailed off, Daniel realized she’d been about to say “before I die.”

  “Don’t even think it,” he warned her. “I won’t allow it.”

  She just sighed, exhaustion in every line of her body. “I’m too tired to argue with you, and I need a hot bath. Let’s all talk after we rest.”

  Daniel wondered how they’d get to a hotel, and who would take care of the fallen humans, but this was not the first time the rebels had faced such losses, and they had a system in place. Within the hour, they were ensconced in a hotel in Sedona, and he was systematically drinking his way through every tiny bottle of whiskey in the minibar while he tried not to think about Serai’s naked body in the bathtub on the other side of a very flimsy door. He could smell the bath salts she’d poured in the tub. He could smell the soap and the shampoo that was touching her perfect skin and beautiful hair. But a far worse problem than that was becoming more and more evident.

  He could smell her blood.

  He could breathe in the scent of her luscious, life-giving blood, pumping through her veins beneath that perfect and oh-so-fragile skin. He’d channeled so much power, so long unused, and he was growing weak from the drain on his energy. The bloodlust he’d controlled for so many thousands of years was raising its monstrous head to scent its prey.

  And Serai smelled like prey.

  Chapter 12

  Sedona

  Serai sank farther into the scented water until only her knees and head remained above the clouds of frothy bubbles. The bath salts had a pleasing floral scent, but that of no flower she knew or remembered. It was no Atlantean tub, to be sure. She’d do no swimming or even languid floating with her friends here in this hotel bathroom. After so long without a bath, though, with only magical stasis-maintained cleanliness, this small tub felt fit for a king. Or at least fit for a once-almost-queen. One who wanted nothing more than to scrub the scent of fire and blood and battle from her skin.

  The steamy heat sank into her tired muscles, soothing and relaxing them after a day and night of activity that surely had been more strenuous than a normal person’s week. Or month. She hadn’t even known that she had the ability to shift her shape to that of the ancient tiger, and yet she’d done it not once but twice. The saber-toothed tiger had been her favorite animal to study in the schoolroom. So beautiful and yet fierce and deadly.

  Rather like Daniel. An image of him, standing over her and ferociously protecting her from attack, flashed into her mind, and she drew a shaky breath. He was the fiercest warrior she’d ever seen, and every ounce of that rage and power had been focused on saving her.

  A tingling sensation swept through her at the thought of him—her vampire warrior and protector—waiting in the next room, with only a door between them. Her nipples stiffened and she blinked to see their pink tips pointing up through the bubbles. She raised her hands to cup her breasts and ran an exploratory thumb over one nipple, gasping at the electric sensation that pinged through her body from that sensitive place to another, even more sensitive place.

  How much more exciting would it be if it were Daniel touching her there? She caught her breath at the thought, feeling deliciously naughty and then, suddenly, starkly ashamed. Men and women had just died, and she herself had killed one of them. Yes, it had been a vampire who’d been attacking Reisen, bent on killing him. Yes, it had been in battle.

  But she’d never even struck anyone in anger, and now she’d killed a man. A vampire, like Daniel. How could she dismiss that so easily? The tears began to run down her face as the horrible inventory unfolded in her mind. Quinn’s friend Jack, the man who’d been kind enough to spend part of his day protecting Serai from her own foolishness, was wounded perhaps beyond hope of healing. His humanity might never return. Several more of the rebels—more friends—were also dead or injured.

  All of it due to a vampire attack that might even have had something to do with the Emper
or and whoever had stolen it. Not to mention the maidens lying helpless in Atlantis, waiting for her to find the Emperor and save them.

  And yet—in spite of all of that—here she sat in luxury and peace in her bath, playing at ideas of being a sexual temptress. Shame and exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she dropped her head to her knees and gave in to the sobs that had lain in wait for her since she first stepped foot out of that pod.

  So much responsibility on Serai’s inexperienced shoulders. Too much, perhaps. If she failed them, her sisters-in-stasis would die—because of her. She’d never been responsible for anything more important than choosing a new gown for a ball, and now the fate of the maidens, and maybe even that of Atlantis itself, lay in her hands. The Seven Isles couldn’t rise to the surface without all of the jewels from Poseidon’s trident.

  It was too much. Far too much. She couldn’t possibly live up to the task. She pulled a towel from the heated bar near the tub and pressed her face into it, the end trailing in the water, so the sound of her sobs wouldn’t reach beyond the bathing room.

  When the door crashed open, she knew she’d failed at even that. Moving so fast he was a blur, Daniel crossed to the tub and pulled her up and out of it, cradling her—wet towel, bubbles, and all—on his lap.

  “Serai? Are you injured? Should we call for a healer or a doctor?” He stared into her eyes, holding her tightly to his chest, and she felt herself flush so hot her skin must be on fire.

  “Daniel! I’m not injured, but I’m . . . I have no . . . I was in the bath. This is shockingly inappropriate. Release me immediately and leave the room.”

  He ignored her completely and instead tightened his embrace and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Then why are you crying as if your heart would break, my beautiful one?”

  She shook her head back and forth as the pain rushed up again to choke her, her childish concerns about her nudity forgotten. “The attack. The dead rebels. Jack. My sisters. The Emperor. What if I can’t find it, Daniel? My connection to it keeps growing weaker. What if I can never find it and the rest of the maidens die, too?”

  “You’ll find it. We’ll find it together. I swear to you that we will succeed. We’ll save those women, and you’ll be safe, and you can return to Atlantis and live a long and wonderful life.” His voice rasped as he said it, as if he were suppressing some deep emotion. He shifted his position sitting on the edge of the tub, still holding her, and the blood rushed to her cheeks again as she realized she felt a growing hardness under her bottom.

  “I’m sorry, Serai, but I am a man,” he said ruefully. “Some things are impossible to ignore, and you, naked in my arms, tops the list.”

  He stood and carefully released her, and then took her wet towel and handed her a dry one, but his searing gaze swept every inch of her body before she got a chance to wrap herself in the soft white cotton.

  “A gentleman would have closed his eyes,” she informed him rather breathlessly.

  “I’m not a gentleman,” he said, flashing that wicked smile of his that made her think of dangerous, seductive things. “I’m going to take advantage of every chance I get to see your gorgeous body, especially naked, you can be sure of that.”

  She blushed again but then frowned. “It’s not right. To think of . . . pleasure . . . when such bad things have happened.”

  He grabbed another towel and started to dry her hair for her. “It’s the most normal thing in the world, sweetheart. To affirm life in the face of death. To reach out for a connection to another—it’s entirely natural.”

  He tossed the towel on the floor and put his arms around her, pulling her closer. “Do you know what else is natural? This is natural.”

  He touched his lips to hers, and she stopped breathing, stopped thinking, stopped existing as a rational person as the sensation thrilled through her. He was kissing her.

  He wanted her.

  She didn’t know why, and she didn’t care. She didn’t care.

  She just kissed him back. She threw her arms around his neck and clung, just in case he changed his mind. She wouldn’t let go so easily. She kissed him with every bit of the longing she’d built up after so many years of missing him. Wanting him. Dreaming of him.

  All of those years of wishing, hoping—she put all that into her kiss, too. All of her enthusiasm, her passion; it had to make up for lack of experience, didn’t it?

  She hoped. She would—what had he said? Affirm life? Yes. She would affirm life with him. Enthusiastically.

  He groaned a little, deep in his throat, and she blushed. Maybe all that enthusiasm was a little too much. She didn’t actually know what she was doing, after all. Maybe she was—

  “Stop thinking so hard,” he said, his lips quirking up at the edges. “Kissing is more about feeling.”

  “How did you—”

  “I could tell. Am I going too fast?”

  “No! I mean, no, I just—you have probably kissed so many women, and I don’t, well, not that I should have, and what were you doing kissing all those women, anyway?” By the time she got to the end of that convoluted sentence, she was indignant and more than a little jealous.

  His eyes flashed with heat and maybe even a little amusement. “There weren’t all that many, mi amara. But if you want the absolute truth, there has never, ever been anyone who could compare to you.”

  She clutched the towel closer to her chest and stared up into his eyes. Nothing but absolute sincerity and that exciting glimpse of barely restrained hunger shone back at her.

  “My heart has waited for you all of my life. I feel like I’m learning what a kiss is for the very first time, and I want to learn it with you,” he said, and she fell.

  Fell out of doubt, out of insecurity, out of shyness.

  Fell into love.

  And knew, without a doubt, that she couldn’t let him know. She’d scare him away, with his stupid notions of honor. But she could find a way to show him; that, at least she could do.

  Would do. Tonight.

  He waited, letting her decide, and she framed his face with her hands and pulled his head back down to hers.

  “Then maybe we should try it again,” she whispered, shyness almost—almost—completely overcome.

  He flashed that wicked grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

  He kissed her, and time stood still, the stars exploded, and a thousand other lines from a thousand other love songs and poems evolved from data fed to her by the Emperor . . . into truth.

  He kissed her, and somehow she was in his arms while he carried her into the bedroom. His eyes glowed like dark stars in the dim room, which was only lit by the light from the bathing room.

  “I need you,” he said, and his voice was tight with strain as if he somehow hurt because of needing her. She felt a thrill of purely feminine triumph as she tightened her arms around his neck and kissed him in response. She didn’t need words, she didn’t even have the words for what she was feeling—only random thoughts and emotions and feelings whirling around and through her like bolts of electricity or a lightning strike composed of sheer sensation.

  He lowered her to the bed and lay down beside her before she could take a breath. The towel had vanished between bath and bed, but he covered her body with his own. He was still fully dressed, and she shivered with the wantonly tactile sensation of his clothing against her skin.

  “Are you cold?” He pulled the bed’s coverlet up and around them, but she shook her head, laughing a little.

  “I feel like I’ll never be cold again, if you keep kissing me,” she confessed, and she was surprised at the breathless sound of her voice.

  He laughed and it was his turn for triumph. His eyes darkened, and she knew, oh, yes, even she in her inexperience knew what he felt.

  “There’s more, if you’ll allow me to touch you,” he said.

  “I know what making love is.” She could feel the heat in her cheeks at her bold declaration, but she didn’t want him to think she was completely ignor
ant.

  He kissed her forehead, her nose, her lips, and then her neck. “There’s knowing, and then there’s knowing. May I?”

  “Oh! Oh, yes, um, what?”

  “May I touch you?”

  “Yes, oh, yes,” she whispered, and then she lay perfectly still and waited for her world to change.

  Daniel thought his brain might explode if she said no, so when she said yes, he didn’t hesitate but did what he’d wanted to do since he first saw her again after so long. He touched her.

  All over.

  He ran his hands down the silken skin of her arms while he kissed her, and then he rolled to his side, pulling her with him, and stroked her back and her hair. And kissed her some more. He couldn’t seem to stop kissing her, as if he were drowning and she were the very oxygen he needed to survive. At first she lay still, as if afraid to move, but then she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. Her kisses were enthusiastic and tentative all at once, as if she was learning the art of kissing.

  Which, of course, was exactly what she was doing. He had no idea why the thought of it humbled him at the same time it drove him mad. His cock was so hard the imprint of his zipper would probably be a permanent tattoo if he didn’t get out of his pants soon, but he didn’t want to scare her by undressing. Not yet.

  He took a breath and dared to let his hands drop to the sweet, sweet curve of her hips and ass, and he couldn’t help the way his own hips bucked against her when he had both hands wrapped around her lush behind.

  “Daniel, it . . . tingles. I never, I don’t . . . It feels like I’m empty and hungry for something,” she said, her cheeks blushing a hot rosy pink. “I never knew I could feel like this. I want—I want—”

  “I want you, too, mi amara, but I’m not going to rush you,” he said, feeling like a big damn hero. Or a big damn fool. “Not yet. It’s too soon, and I don’t want to take advantage of the heightened emotions you’re feeling right now.”