by Alyssa Day
“But, Daniel—”
“No. You deserve better, and I deserve the death I was seeking the day I fell into Atlantis and found you.”
All traces of her laughter and even her smile were long gone when he dared glance at her again.
“Oh, Daniel. Older and wiser never has to mean hopeless or in despair.” She reached out to him, but he moved away and pointed to the red wall of stone curving away from them about a hundred yards off.
“I know those rocks. There’s a hidden cave with a stone structure the Sinagua built around the other side, and it faces onto a small canyon. There are stone stairs leading to spaces with enclosures even deeper in the cave, and we can rest there. The sun will be up soon, and in any event you need to rest.”
She shook her head, stubborn as usual, but before she could argue, she cried out and fell to the ground, her body twitching and jerking uncontrollably.
Regretting his harshness, he raced to her and lifted her off the ground and held her close until the spasms subsided. Why not tell her anything she wanted to hear? If she died from the damn Emperor’s magic, at least she’d have been happy for a few short hours. He grimly called himself a thousand kinds of fool until she could speak again.
“She’s using it again. The witch. The Emperor is still some distance away, but we’re gaining on it. She seems to be learning how to use it. I’m not sure how much more I can take.” A bout of coughing interrupted her and she leaned against him until it stopped, but her voice was hoarse when she continued. “Rest. You’re right. I need to rest. I can’t help any of them if I fall apart before we even find it.”
Lifting her into his arms, he strode to the cliff wall and tucked her head against his chest before he climbed the steps carved into the stone face to the cave dwelling. He didn’t let her look up until they’d moved back into the cave and away from the opening, so her fear of heights didn’t further incapacitate her. He hated to do anything that might scare her, but it wasn’t safe on the ground, especially not when the sun rose.
“Rest now, mi amara,” he said. “We don’t dare have a fire, in case the vampires have human thugs working for them who would see it.”
She nodded and slumped down against a wall, clearly exhausted beyond the point of arguing or even speaking. He pulled the blankets from his pack and made a bed of sorts for her, then lay down next to her and pulled her into his arms, so her head was pillowed on his shoulder.
“Tell me about that tower,” he said quietly, but with an undercurrent of pure steel. He would know the truth of this.
She closed her eyes, as if she couldn’t bear to look at him while she spoke. “Even the soft ground of the palace gardens is unforgiving if the fall is from a high enough place. I shattered my body.”
He inhaled sharply, feeling something inside him shatter, too, at the thought of her pain. “How did you live?”
She shrugged slightly, her eyes still closed. “How does anyone survive anything in Atlantis? When I opened my eyes, sure I was about to die, the healers were running toward me. Soon I was good as new,” she said bitterly.
“All but in your mind,” he said.
“And my heart. Please, Daniel, let it go. I can’t talk about it now.”
He kissed her—gentle, brief—and then forced himself to let it go. For her.
“Do you need anything else? Food or water?”
She didn’t answer, and he was afraid she was punishing him, but when he tilted his head to look into her eyes, she was sound asleep. Exhaustion and weakness had overcome her, and he needed to keep her safe until darkness came again and they could go on and succeed in their task. Nothing else mattered until then. Nothing.
But she loves me, a dark voice whispered deep in the recesses of his heart. She loves me, and I will never, ever give her up.
“She deserves better,” he said aloud, fully aware that he was talking to himself—out loud—and that was surely step one on the path to madness.
Mad or no, she loves me, and she is mine.
The sane part of his mind, he found, had no wish to argue, so he allowed himself to fall into a light doze, now that they were securely hidden from any view from outside.
She loved him. She loved him.
But when he slept, he dreamed of purple fire.
Chapter 18
Daniel woke first, a change in the air pressure alerting him to the coming dusk. He and Serai had slept nearly twelve hours, and each of the times he’d woken to check on her during the day she’d been sleeping deeply, all but unconscious in his arms. He knew the trek was taking its toll on her, but there was no alternative. Her fear of heights wouldn’t allow her to fly. If they didn’t find the gem—Well.
He would not think of that.
She lay curled against him, and her scent of sunshine and sea surrounded him with its delicate flavor. He wanted to taste her again, and his body hardened painfully at the thought of waking her by undressing her and kissing every inch of exposed skin. She sighed in her sleep and put a hand on his face, as if petting him or telling him to wait just a little while, or so he imagined. He grinned ruefully. Even in the face of impending danger and almost certain death, his blood rushed to his cock at the sight of her. In some ways, he really wasn’t much different from that boy she’d known so long ago.
His grin faded as he realized one crucial difference: that boy would not have been fighting the urge to sink his fangs into her oh-so-tempting neck. The blood thirst was worse than he’d ever known it, and he had a strong feeling that it was more about his feelings for Serai than about the blood itself. He didn’t need to feed on blood very often. The blood of the human who had “volunteered” outside the bar would suffice for at least a week more.
No, it wasn’t about need. It was all about desire.
Trying to distract himself, he took her hand in his and realized it was icy cold, so he massaged it, trying to provide heat from friction since his own body temperature ran a little cooler than human or Atlantean. He knew she was shaky from the stasis, in spite of the magic. How she could bear up under the pressure and the demands of this quest after eleven thousand years of inactivity was enough to boggle the mind.
“You’re an extraordinary woman, Serai of Atlantis,” he murmured, and he wasn’t even all that surprised when she opened her eyes and looked into his.
“You’re quite the bee’s knees, yourself,” she said, smiling.
He laughed. “I haven’t heard that one in a long time. And thank you.”
Her brows drew together. “I know. My knowledge of languages is extensive, but my grasp of the correct chronology is rather fluid. I know Rome is long gone, but sometimes I find myself thinking in Latin. The proper speech patterns of England during the Regency period fascinated me, so I might inadvertently drop into those. I find American English a little tiring and flat, if that makes sense, with none of the lyricism of Atlantean, so it’s hard for me to maintain conversation it it.”
“I never would have been able to guess that,” he said, switching to ancient Atlantean. “I think you’re amazing. Your brain must be truly a marvel, to keep up with all of those languages.”
She shifted, making him all too painfully aware that she still lay in his arms, when his pants seemed to shrink a couple of sizes.
“My strength is up, but my limbs feel weak. Almost as if they weren’t connected to my body,” she said, also in Atlantean, strain evident in her pale face. “Walking will be difficult this night.”
“Let me help.” He sat up and pulled her arm into his lap, then began a vigorous massage to get the blood moving and her muscles warmed up. He realized the oddity that he, a vampire, was working to increase Serai’s blood circulation without any intent to partake of that blood, but it was far from the oddest thing he’d encountered in the past few days, so he filed it away under “irrelevancies” and continued, moving on to her other arm for a while.
“May I remove your socks?”
She bit her lip, and in the fading glow of what little light
reached them this far back in the cave he saw that her cheeks had turned pink yet again.
“You can’t possibly be shy at the thought of me seeing your feet after I have seen every inch of you,” he said, amused and entranced in equal measure.
“No, but I’m afraid . . . I’m afraid my feet smell bad!”
It took a beat, but then they simultaneously burst into laughter.
“Evil vampires and witches and malfunctioning magical gems, and you’re worried about stinky feet?” He shook his head, still grinning. “You really are a princess.”
“Maybe, but even a princess can worry about stinky feet,” she said haughtily, and he laughed again and then removed her sock before she could protest. He pulled her decidedly non-stinky foot into his lap and began to massage it and her leg.
“You—oh—I—oh. Oh,” she said, almost moaning by the second or third “oh.” “Oh, that feels so good. My poor feet are much abused by my first outing into the world.”
He grinned and applied gentle pressure to her calf. “This is not exactly what I had in mind when I thought of you moaning for me.”
Serai put her hands over her eyes. “I refuse to let you embarrass me after the things we did to each other in that hotel.”
“Then why are your cheeks so becomingly pink?”
Her eyes flew open. “You can’t even see what color my cheeks are, it’s dark.”
“I have excellent night vision,” he informed her, switching to the other leg and beginning the same gentle massage.
“That’s not all you have that’s excellent,” she murmured.
“I heard that.”
“A gentleman would be kissing me now,” she said.
“I’ m not a—Wait. Oh, yeah. I’m definitely a gentleman,” he said, releasing her leg and lying back down next to her.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, a long, deep, slow kiss that threatened to blow the top of his skull off by the time he was done.
“Definitely a gentleman, but finding it a little hard to breathe right now,” he said. “Maybe you should take the lead this time.”
Serai didn’t hesitate. She twined her fingers through his silken hair and feathered kisses across those seductive lips of his. She might not have long to live, and she was determined to make the most of every second of it. His scent of woods and musk and man wrapped itself around her and enticed her into kissing his neck and then daring to touch her tongue to the edge of his ear.
He groaned, a long, heartfelt sound, and she jerked back a little, afraid she’d done something wrong, until his arms tightened around her. He pulled her so close that she could feel that intriguing hardness again, pushing up against the juncture of her thighs.
She knew what it meant. He found her desirable. He wanted her. She wanted him, too, oh, by all the gods she wanted him so much, but for some reason she hesitated. Held back. She wanted him. His kisses drove her to the brink of aching, hungry madness, but this was just . . .
“This isn’t what I dreamed about,” she blurted out.
He took a deep breath and blew it out before answering her, but he didn’t move his hands from her back and bottom, holding her in place against him. Part of her wanted to wriggle around and see what happened.
And part of her realized they were lying on a couple of thin blankets on a dirt floor in a cave.
“Dreamed?” He stared at her, and she was pleased to see his eyes were a little unfocused.
“This. Us. Here.” She gestured around them, blushing furiously but determined to explain. “I know it’s a silly romantic fantasy, but I had not dreamed of giving up my maidenhood in such a place.”
He blinked and opened his mouth, then closed it. “I’m a damn fool,” he finally said. “I’m so sorry, Princess. Of course you deserve candles and flowers and silk sheets. I got carried away by the feel of finally holding you in my arms. You’re just so damn beautiful.”
She smiled and kissed his cheek. “I don’t need candles or silk sheets, but a little romance and perhaps a little less dirt would not go unappreciated.”
“You’re amazing,” he said, stroking the side of her face. “Even in the middle of all this danger, your sense of humor is still intact. How could I ever think I might deserve you?”
“My father often informed me I was quite obstinate and annoying,” she told him. “Perhaps I am exactly who you deserve.”
He grinned and rolled up to sit, then stood, pulling her up with him. “I don’t know about that. If—”
But she stopped hearing his words after that. He was still speaking, but a voice on a very old and unused mental pathway in her mind came through loud and clear and drowned out any other sound.
Serai of Atlantis, this is Reisen of Mycenae. I bid you allow me to communicate with you in this manner.
The response to his formal request came to her unconscious mind before her conscious mind could think of it.
Accepted and welcome, Reisen of Mycenae. What news of the world?
We retrieved what we needed from the bank last night. Melody, ah, the human woman Melody has asked me to meet with certain others with her this evening and then I am free to catch up to you and assist you with your quest.
She heard the slight oddness in his voice when he mentioned Melody, but it would have been impolite to inquire as to its cause.
You were successful, then?
We were. Now we only need—Wait. There is someone—
The mental connection between them snapped and then expanded, filled with Reisen’s rage.
They found us. They’re outside. Melody—they shot Melody. I have to go. I’ll contact you as soon as I can.
Serai gasped and Daniel was instantly there, wrapping his arm around her shoulders to steady her.
“Are you okay? What’s happening? You looked like you went into a trance.”
She nodded, distracted, but couldn’t focus on what he was saying.
Reisen, I hope Melody is not badly injured. Be well and safe. Contact me when you can. My best wishes and prayers go with you.
And mine with you, Serai. Tell that vampire that if he hurts you, he’ll answer to me.
The connection broke, and she let it go. Reisen had enough to deal with right now. She sent a fervent prayer to Poseidon that Melody would be healed quickly and that they would be safe, and then she realized that Daniel was shaking her.
“Serai? Serai! Answer me,” he demanded.
“I’m fine. You can stop shaking me now.”
He released her instantly, and then he took a step back and shoved a hand through his hair. “What was that? You were gone. Is that the telepathy thing?”
“Yes. It was Reisen.”
A flash of something crossed Daniel’s eyes, but he simply nodded, waiting.
“The bank job was a success. They got what they needed, but while we were communicating, Reisen said someone attacked them. Melody got shot.”
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t know. He was on his way to help her and get them away, I think. He said he’d contact us again when he could.” She left out Reisen’s threat, figuring what Daniel didn’t know couldn’t annoy him.
She looked out toward the entrance of the cave, where it was now full dark. “Time to go. I can feel the Emperor, and it’s calling me very strongly.”
“We’re on our own,” Daniel said.
Serai held out her arms to the sky and pulled the strength of the Emperor to her, but this time on her terms. Its power soared through the air toward her, all but thrumming through her bones. “This is our quest to win or lose. Somehow I feel that very strongly.”
He lifted the backpack and slung it over his shoulders again. “Then we really are on our own. Let’s find that gem before the witch starts to play with it again.”
But it was too late. The witch forced her magic through the Emperor again, and Serai screamed, her skull nearly shattering with the force of the pain from another badly manipulated blast of the gem�
�s power.
When she could breathe again, she gritted her teeth and headed out of the cave. “Now. We need to go find that goddessforsaken witch now.”
Chapter 19
Farther into the Red Rock Secret Mountain Wilderness area, inside an ancient, abandoned Sinagua Indian structure
“I don’t know how to do it!” Ivy realized that screaming at the man with the gun was probably a bad idea, but blood ran freely down her lip and chin from her nose, and her skull felt like it might crack wide open. Whatever this amethyst was designed to be, a treasure-seeking tool aimed by a kidnapped witch was not it.
Definitely not it.
This try had been worse than the others, though—far worse. This time, she’d believed she’d made a connection with another woman. Another witch, maybe, or at least someone with some kind of magic that happened to resonate with the gem. The other woman had been in pain, too, and Ivy had the uncomfortable feeling that she’d been the one to cause it. She flinched a little as that concern led to another worry; they still hadn’t told her what had happened to Aretha. She didn’t buy the lame story that the apprentice had suddenly decided to take a vacation to Mexico. The girl had been flighty enough for something like that, certainly, but something about the story and the man who’d told it to her didn’t quite ring true.
The same man now pointing a gun at her bleeding head.
Ian was frantically digging into his backpack, and he came up with a clean bandanna, which he handed to her.
“Mom, use this and wipe your nose. You have to stop now, this is hurting you too bad,” he said, and she would have given anything—done anything—to have spared him the pain and fear showing so plainly on his sunburned face. His bright blue eyes, exactly like his father’s, were a little shiny, but her proud boy hadn’t given in to the tears. He was worried about being strong for her.
She was worried that Smithson would shoot Ian as quickly and callously as he might swat a gnat. Smithson had an oily, burnt-orange aura that lurched and coiled around him like a sun-drunk rattlesnake, and she had the feeling he was just as deadly.