by Alyssa Day
“You want to stop kissing me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and she peeked up at him from beneath her eyelashes, and he thought this must be the hardest thing he’d ever done. Talk about self-sacrifice.
Nobility.
Cold freaking showers.
“No, I never want to stop kissing you, but I want to hold you, and I want us to sleep,” he said, clenching his jaws shut against the please, please, please, I need to be inside you right now that he was really thinking.
She squirmed and pushed away from him a little, just far enough for him to see the luscious pink tips of her full, round breasts. He listened to the blood pulsing through her veins, and the monster in him hungered to come out and bite.
He prayed for strength. This was Serai. If he bit her—if he took her blood—then he was nothing more than the beast, and he deserved to die horribly and alone. He deserved for her to shove him away in disgust. He wished she would.
He prayed she didn’t.
“I don’t want to sleep,” she said. “I want you to touch me.”
She took his hand and placed it on her breast, and the beast quieted, perhaps in shock at being willingly touched; the man took over. Daniel gave up the idea of complete nobility as a lost cause, because touching her body was a far, far better choice than sinking his fangs into her throat. He could push simple desire to the fore and shove bloodlust to the dark recesses of his soul.
He would. He must.
Forcing his fangs to retract, he flipped her onto her back and pounced, taking her breasts in both hands, and finally, oh, by all the glorious wonders, finally, he kissed them and then each nipple in turn. When she gasped and clutched his hair, he gave in and licked one peak into his mouth and sucked on it until she was crying out and trembling underneath him, and then he gave no quarter but instead treated the other breast to the same tender care.
He would pleasure her until she came, crying out his name, and then—then—he would make her sleep. Surely that was noble enough.
Serai cried out again and was almost rational enough to wonder if anyone could hear her through the walls, but then she didn’t care, when Daniel did that wonderful thing with his mouth to her breast and pure liquid fire shot through her body from her nipples to her most private parts. He turned to her other breast and took that nipple into his mouth while he gently pinched the other with his fingers, and she cried out again, wanting something, not knowing what, but needing—needing something.
Needing him.
So she told him, since her psychic commands weren’t working. “Daniel, I need—I need—”
“I know, mi amara,” he said, putting his hand between her thighs, right where she needed it, and stroking a finger through the hot wet slickness that had somehow appeared. And then his finger touched her right there and she cried out.
It wasn’t just heat, it wasn’t just passion, it was more, so much more. The man she’d dreamed of for eleven thousand years was kissing her and touching her, and oh, dear Poseidon, she thought she might actually explode from the pleasure and unbearable rightness of it.
“Daniel! That’s . . . you . . . oh, yes, yes, yes,” she said, as he kept rubbing her there in that most sensitive of spots. His finger pushed a little inside her and she gasped, and then his talented fingers, now wet and slippery, applied just the right amount of pressure, and her body shattered into a thousand fractured prisms of light.
He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, murmuring gentle, meaningless words as she trembled in his arms; just rocking her slightly back and forth, holding her until the tremors shuddering through her body from his touch subsided.
“That was . . . was that . . . was that making love?”
He smiled at her, but his face looked a bit strained. “Yes, but it gets even better than that.”
“I’m not sure I would survive better,” she admitted, and he laughed.
“You should sleep now,” he said, stroking her hair away from her face. “You need to rest. This has been a pretty big day for your first day awake in millennia.”
“You have a talent for understatement.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
Before she could protest, he tipped her chin up and pressed a brief, gentle kiss on her lips, then captured her gaze with his own.
“You should sleep now,” he said again, and a red gleam flared in his pupils.
She knew she should argue with him, but she was just so sleepy, and after all, he was right, they needed to sleep, and—Oh.
Oh, no.
“You used your nightwalker hypnotic powers on me,” she said, fighting against it, but the compulsion was too strong. The last thing she saw was the smile on his beautiful face, and then the room went dark as she sank into sleep.
Daniel smiled at her, even though his body was screaming at him to jump up, take a cold shower, or, better yet, take his cock in his own hand and give himself just a little bit of relief from the screaming pitch of need. He lasted about five minutes lying there, trying to be content to watch her sleep, but—as he’d told her—he was only a man.
He climbed out of bed, hit the shower, and did both.
Chapter 13
After a few restless hours of not-quite-sleeping and one short trip to the street outside of the hotel bar to relieve a drunken tourist of a pint of blood he’d never miss, Daniel lay again in bed next to Serai, holding a long strand of her silken hair in his fingers and wondering how long he could bear it before he woke her and took her, claiming every inch of her body as his. He wanted her to wake up with his cock sliding into the sweet warmth of her body, and only the knowledge of her innocence stopped him from acting on that desire.
Instead, he gritted his teeth and thought about unappetizing things like turnips, lima beans, and congressional politics. As the first fingers of dawn’s light made their way through the tiny gap in the curtains, Daniel heard the measured tread of the footsteps in the hallway. He jumped out of bed, clothed himself, and raced to the door, daggers handy although probably unnecessary. It sounded like Reisen’s walk, and Daniel’s excellent vampire hearing was generally dead-on about such things.
He pulled open the door to find Reisen standing there with one hand raised to knock. Daniel stepped out on to the green-and-gold patterned carpet of the hallway and gently closed the door.
“She needs to sleep. Yesterday was a strain.”
Reisen’s eyes widened. “Is that some vampire thing? Gargantuan understatement? A strain? She could have died.”
“It’s even worse than you know,” Daniel said grimly. “Is there someplace we can talk?”
“There’s a coffee shop in the lobby. Few humans are about at this hour. Melody is waiting there.” Reisen paused and then shrugged. “It’s against an inner wall, away from any windows. You’ll be fine there.”
“Not used to worrying about whether a bloodsucker bursts into flames, are you, Atlantean?” Daniel said, grinning.
“It’s a first.” Reisen waved the stump of his arm in the air. “I figure I owe you one. At least.” The warrior’s face turned grim, probably remembering that horrible day when an evil vampire named Barrabas had captured and tortured him.
“How about coffee, and we’re even?” Daniel hesitated, concerned about what Serai would do if she woke up alone. Whether she’d be afraid. “I’ll meet you there,” he told Reisen, and then slipped back into the room, wrote a quick note, and put it on the pillow next to Serai. Her face was burrowed in the pillow, so all he could see was the sensual curve of her arm and neck, but it was enough to make him want to climb into the bed with her and finish what he’d started only hours earlier.
“Later. I promise you,” he whispered to her sleeping form, before leaving the room in search of the coffee shop.
He easily avoided the patch of morning sunlight streaming in through the lobby windows by ducking around the gift shop to find the coffee shop and Reisen and Melody sitting in welcoming dimness in a back corner. A poster of a smiling skeleton on the wall ab
ove Melody’s head announced “Welcome to Arizona! At least it’s a dry heat!” and he wondered, yet again, at the human sense of humor. Three cups sat on the table, and he thanked the fates that he could enjoy a good espresso and wasn’t doomed to take in nothing but blood like some comic book version of his kind.
“Good morning,” he said.
Melody smiled up at him. Her smile was haunted by a glimmer of sadness, and there were dark circles under her eyes. He clearly wasn’t the only one who’d spent a sleepless night. “Thank you for the coffee.”
“Hi. You’re welcome. Is Serai okay? She was pretty amazing with that tiger shift and then helping Jack like that.” Melody’s voice broke on Jack’s name, and Reisen handed her a napkin. She took it and wiped her face, then leaned against Reisen’s arm for a moment before straightening and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry. Jack was—Jack was good people. I hope he can come back, and that Quinn and Alaric can fix him.”
Daniel nodded, wishing he could offer her some words of comfort, but he’d seen shape-shifters lose their humanity before, and he’d never once seen one of them find his way back. The call of the wild was truly that—a call—and nature was a cruel mistress who kept her own once they had returned to her.
“What’s the plan for today?” Reisen asked, changing the subject as he exchanged a glance of mutual grim understanding with Daniel. The Atlantean had little hope of Jack’s return, either.
“We’ve got a mole,” Melody said.
Reisen raised an eyebrow. “What?”
“An inside source at the bank. She can’t work openly with us, because she’d lose her job, and she’s a single mom with three kids, but she’s on our side for sure. Vampires killed her husband, the bastards,” she added heatedly. Then she covered her mouth with one hand. “Oh, um, sorry, Daniel. I realize not all vampires are the bad guys.”
Daniel shrugged. “I’ve been a vampire for more than eleven thousand years, Melody, and have seen more evil perpetrated than you could imagine in your worst nightmares. By vampires and by humans; by witches and by shape-shifters. As you well know, one’s race or species doesn’t determine the depths of the darkness in one’s soul.”
“Poetically said,” Reisen said, narrowing his eyes. “I must ask, though, by what right is one so ancient traveling with a maiden of Atlantis? It is my sworn duty as a Warrior of Poseidon to protect humanity, and yet it is my duty as an Atlantean and a man to protect Serai.”
“Did she seem to need to be protected from me?” Daniel asked dryly. “You might be surprised to learn that she is as old as I am. We first met before Atlantis retreated from the world to the bottom of the ocean.”
Reisen inhaled sharply. “But . . . she’s that Serai? Conlan’s Serai?”
“Conlan’s no longer, not that he ever had claim to her,” Daniel growled. “He abandoned her for Quinn’s sister.”
Melody put a hand on Reisen’s arm and Daniel was surprised to see the warrior react to it, visibly calming. Something lay between the two of them, then, or at least the beginning of something. His gaze traveled between the fierce, proud Atlantean warrior and the small, oddly dressed, human woman. An unlikely match, but then what match was not when it came to these Atlanteans? He and Serai? Quinn and Alaric? Even Conlan and Riley, or Ven and Erin, or crazy Justice and Keely? Not to mention cursed Brennan and the lovely Tiernan.
The Atlantean goddess of love was either insane or an evil genius. Perhaps both.
“This is unproductive,” he finally said. “Serai and I have a mission to accomplish, or she and others may die.” As they drank their coffee, he filled them in on the details of Serai’s connection to the Emperor and what had happened to date.
At one point, Melody excused herself to go purchase pastries and more coffee, and Reisen aimed a long, measuring look at Daniel. “I’m not sure sharing all of this with a human was wise.”
Daniel glanced at Melody as she stood at the counter, paying for her purchases. “Quinn trusted her, and Quinn’s sister is high princess of Atlantis.” He shrugged. “Good enough for me. Are you still planning to help her with her plans concerning the bank?”
“I don’t know. I made a promise that I would, and yet your mission sounds more urgent.” Reisen ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“Fulfill your promise and help Melody with the bank,” Daniel advised. “I don’t believe in coincidences. There might be some reason why the Emperor is being tampered with in the very same place that the head of this banker/ vampire consortium is operating.”
“That sounds improbable,” Reisen said.
“I know, but almost every critical event in this war has ranged from improbable to impossible. We have to keep this consortium from gaining a foothold, or the rebel cause may be doomed.”
Melody returned with a bulging bag and a tray with three more coffees, and Daniel took his cup and stood. “I thank you for the coffee, but I must return in case Serai has woken. We’ll rest here during the day, and then we’re heading out as soon as the sun goes down.”
Melody nodded. “What do you need? Do you have money?”
“Yes, and credit cards enough even to make this overpriced place shiver with glee,” he said dryly. “One benefit of living forever, I suppose. Do you need money? I know the rebels are chronically underfunded.”
Melody tilted her head. “Yes, and since I’m a bona fide computer genius, I happen to have traced a few of our extraordinarily large donations back to a certain vampire primator. Thank you.”
“I’m not Primator. I quit,” he said tersely. Tired of explaining that one.
“You think somebody else could do that job better?” Reisen demanded. “Poseidon’s balls, man, Atlantis needs allies in high places.”
“Yes, and everything I do or have ever done should be predicated on what Atlantis needs, of course,” Daniel drawled. “Especially since it was Atlantean soldiers who dragged Serai away from me when I lay dying on the ground all those millennia ago. Atlantean mages and priests who decided to imprison her, so she could serve as brood mare to your royal studs in some distant future. Oh, yeah. Whatever Atlantis wants, I’m all over that.”
Reisen’s eyes flashed emerald fire, and he rose halfway out of his seat before he reconsidered and sat back down heavily. “Well. I’d be a liar or a fool if I tried to pretend that my goals have never collided with those of the powers that be in Atlantis. But the world needs good men to do good things, or it will be overrun with evil before too much longer.”
Melody, who’d sat silently watching them during the exchange, her eyes enormous, suddenly glared at Reisen and elbowed him in the side. “Hey! Good men and good women, thank you very much. Now maybe we could make with the friendship and figure out our day.”
She pointed to Daniel before he could speak. “You. If you’re going to be hiking at all, and I bet you are, if they’re skulking around trying to hide this gem you talked about, you’ll need gear and provisions. I’ll get someone to bring it to you.”
Daniel inclined his head in thanks.
“You,” she said, turning to Reisen, who seemed to be trying hard not to smile as the small human female put them both in their respective places. “I know you want to help Serai. But I need you, too. Can we compromise? You help me today and tonight, and then we’ll both find Daniel and Serai and help them. Both objectives met, and Melody doesn’t get killed while trying to rob a bank all by herself.”
“I will not let anything happen to you,” Reisen said, his eyes flashing again.
Daniel thought about the arrogance in the warrior’s voice, and a realization came to him. “Is it Lord Reisen, by any chance?”
Reisen nodded, though bitterness was evident in the hard lines of his face. “It was. Reisen of Mycenae. But I thought I knew a better path for Atlantis, and my error cost me everything.”
“You attempted a coup, or so I heard,” Daniel said.
“Conlan had been gone, prisoner to your evil goddess Anubisa, for
seven long years. I thought he was dead, and Atlantis deserved real leadership, not a group of shell-shocked warriors waiting for a dead prince to return,” Reisen said, each word falling like a chunk of granite to the table.
“But he was alive,” Daniel said, stating the obvious, realizing how much it must have cost the warrior to realize he’d been wrong.
“He was alive,” Reisen agreed. “And so a coup became treachery, and I lost a hand in the process. No less than I deserve, or so most of Atlantis thinks.”
“Then they suck. I’m sure you did what you thought was best,” Melody said hotly. “What else can any of us do, especially in these crazy times? I’m one of the worst cyber criminals in the world, probably, and do you think I ever envisioned a life of crime? No, no, and no. But what I do is crucial to the rebel cause, and a little threat like a life sentence in Alcatraz isn’t going to stop me.”
“I don’t think they use Alcatraz to house prisoners anymore. It’s a tourist attraction now,” Daniel pointed out, trying to help the obviously distraught woman.
She rolled her eyes. “So missing the point, dude. Anyway, we need to go. Like, now. Our meet with the woman from the bank is coming up soon. We’ll be in touch as soon as we can.”
She dug around in her ever-present backpack for a while and then handed him a small phone. “Untraceable, disposable cell. Not much use in the canyons, of course, but my number is programmed in.”
“I can contact Serai on the Atlantean shared mental pathway, if that is possible between us,” Reisen said, and Daniel quashed a momentary pang of jealousy at the idea. Of course her fellow Atlanteans would be able to communicate with her in ways that Daniel never could. It was perfectly reasonable.
It was his own problem that “perfectly reasonable” was stabbing him in the gut.
“Good luck to you. I hope your meeting is successful. It would be very helpful to discover who exactly is involved in this scheme.”
They stood, and Melody picked up the remaining cup of coffee and the bag of pastries and held them out to Daniel. “Take these for Serai, okay? And tell her . . . tell her I’d like to get to know her. I bet she could use a girlfriend, since hers are all, well, you know what I mean.”