Vampire in Atlantis wop-7

by Alyssa Day

  The slimeball in question smiled at her, rubbing his hands together. “Now, that wasn’t all that hard, was it?”

  “My mom is bleeding all over, and she hurt her ankle falling. She could have died! You promised to let us go, so do it now, already,” Ian shouted at him.

  Smithson paused and pretended to look regretful, but Ivy could see the mad, gleeful joy deep in his soulless eyes. “Oh, I’m so sorry. But your mommy is just too valuable. I’m afraid I still want her, and since I need you to keep her in line, well, it looks like we’re all going to take a trip together.”

  “I will kill you if you hurt my mother,” Ian said hotly. He started to say something else, but Ivy shook his arm and gave him her most grim “stop right this instant because I’m your mother and I said so” look.

  He subsided, but not for long, judging by the way his lips were pressed together in his “I’m going to explode any second” expression. She’d known this boy since the moment she’d pushed him crying out into the world nearly fourteen years ago, and when her son felt there was injustice in the world, he couldn’t keep silent about it, no matter the cost. She’d always loved that about him, but right now it might get them killed.

  Still, “I will kill you if you hurt my mother” would have been fantastic last words. Ian was so going to score on his next birthday. She might even buy him a car. She laughed out loud, and realized blood loss was making her loopy.

  “I want to laugh, too, from the sheer joy of it,” Smithson said, flashing his hideous Hollywood-white, over-veneered teeth. “This is miraculous. I do wish Nicholas had turned me, though, before I double-crossed the nasty bastard. Think of all that lovely interest, compounding for centuries.”

  Ivy blinked. “You’re unbelievable. What kind of fool betrays a master vampire?”

  Then she blinked again. And yet again. The blood loss must have taken her from dizziness straight to delusion, because she could almost swear she saw a hand sticking out of Smithson’s stomach. She decided that it was really a very good time to close her eyes and lie down, before dancing pink elephants appeared, too.

  That’s when Ian and Smithson both screamed.

  She jerked her head up and forced her eyes to open, only to wish that she hadn’t.

  It had been a hand, after all. Nicholas’s hand, which had smashed clear through Smithson’s abdomen and ripped out much of the man’s intestines on its way back out.

  “Unbelievable is an apt word. There is much about this scene that I find unbelievable, Ivy Khetta of the Crescent Moon coven,” Nicholas said, standing there calmly as if he hadn’t just eviscerated a man. “Fortunately for you, I can see that you were coerced into helping this fool who thought he would betray me and get away with it.”

  Ivy pulled Ian into her arms and hugged him until he stopped screaming, but his thin shoulders shook as he fought back sobs.

  “I have been coerced every step of the way, and you’re just as guilty as he was,” Ivy shot back at the vampire. Pretty brave of her, she figured, considering he stood there with Smithson’s guts wrapped around his arm like bracelets. Or else really, really stupid, for the same reason.

  She decided to be helpful. “His goons are carrying the rubies off in duffel bags. You can probably still catch them if you leave now.”

  Unbelievable must have been the word of the day, because—unbelievably—he smiled at her. “You have quite a bit of courage, my little witch.”

  “I’m glad you think so, because I plan to throw up and pass out now,” she said, as the light from the lanterns wavered in pretty, pretty patterns in front of her. She tried to hang on, for Ian’s sake, but her body and magic had been pushed far beyond the level of her endurance. She clung to Ian and fell forward instead of back, until her head rested on his shoulder. Nicholas said something, and Ian said something else, but the words blurred together in her mind and could have been spoken in Mandarin Chinese for as much as she understood them.

  She couldn’t leave her son alone with the vampire. She fought so hard to maintain consciousness, she really did, but she had nothing in her reserves, nothing at all, and even when she tried to focus on what they were saying, the last thing she heard didn’t make any sense at all, because she was almost certain her son asked Nicholas to turn him into a vampire.

  And she thought she heard Nicholas agree.

  After that, she didn’t hear anything at all.

  Chapter 20

  Serai put the cap back on her water bottle and took a deep breath, trying to convince herself, yet again, that she had the strength for this quest. Her legs were as heavy as if sculpted out of marble or orichalcum by a cloddish artist, and each step was harder than the last. The intermittently missing and damaged connection to the Emperor was draining every ounce of her energy, both magical and physical, and she was terrified about what it was doing to the four maidens left in the stasis pods in Atlantis.

  Delia was already gone. Helena, Merlina, Brandacea, and Guen remained. Serai’s connection to them was weak, and growing weaker every moment, so she wasn’t entirely certain that they all still lived.

  She hoped they did. If their lives could be sustained by the sheer force of her will, then they did still live.

  “What is it?” Daniel asked, soundlessly dropping down next to her after a short flight to scout their area.

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever see that and not be amazed,” she said. “That you can fly. How wonderful it must be.”

  “You can fly as mist, can’t you? Or is that only a warrior thing? I’ve seen Ven and the guys do it. It’s pretty spectacular.”

  She tilted her head, considering. “I think I may still be able to do so. It’s simple enough, part of the magic the sea god gifts to his children. I don’t know if I could do it now, though, since I’m so tired. And the problem—” She broke off, not wanting to let him see how pathetically weak and cowardly she was about something so minor as a fear of height. Lives depended on her.

  He nodded, as if he could read her mind. “The acrophobia still applies. Perhaps, also, your connection with the Emperor won’t work when you’re in mist form.”

  She smiled at him, aware that he was giving her a graceful excuse. She was grateful for his kindness, but not willing to spare herself the truth. “I’ m afraid, and we both know it, but I think it won’t matter. We’re very near the Emperor now. We just need to travel a bit farther and—”

  The worst pain yet slammed into her with the force of a tsunami. The witch was using the Emperor, and this time she was mixing the gem’s power with something else—natural magic from the land around them—oh, gods, it hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt . . .

  She clenched her jaw shut against the scream, but a horrible moaning sound escaped her throat, and Daniel caught her arm.

  “Is it the gem again?”

  “Yes, it’s—”

  She couldn’t finish the sentence. She couldn’t breathe. Her legs wouldn’t support her. The Emperor’s power drove through her, pulling at her own magic, siphoning off her strength in a flood. She could see the witch’s face, and the woman was terrified of something, or someone, but she was being forced to channel the Emperor. For an instant, Serai believed she’d made a connection with the witch, but then the power surged again, and she screamed and collapsed into Daniel’s arms.

  The Emperor ruthlessly took and took, draining everything she had until she knew that it was the end, she would surely die from it, but she didn’t even have the strength to tell Daniel that she loved him, it had always been him, it would always be him, before the world exploded in a shimmering cascade of purple light.

  * * *

  Daniel lifted Serai’s limp form into his arms and listened for the sound of her breathing, but there was only silence. No breath, no heartbeat, nothing but the sound of finality and death and the end of everything. He roared out his anguish in a single, wordless bellow to the sky, incoherent with rage and loss, but then reason returned for long enough for him to realize it wasn’t t
oo late.

  He could fix this. She could hate him for the blood bond later, but at least she’d be alive to do so.

  He bit viciously into his wrist and then held it over her lips, rubbing his dripping blood into her mouth. At first she was unresponsive, but he gently rubbed her throat to coax a swallowing reflex and after a moment long enough to nearly cost him his sanity, she moved her head a little and then swallowed convulsively. She immediately began coughing and retching, as if the taste of his blood had been so foul she must expel it from her mouth, but he forced her to accept more, enough to ensure she would wake and be restored.

  Enough to bond her to him.

  Enough to save her life.

  If she hated him forever after, it was a small enough price to pay to know that she lived.

  She pushed at his arm, and he finally pulled his wrist away from her mouth, now smeared with his blood. He licked his wound to heal it with the anticoagulants in his saliva, and then reached for the water bottle she’d dropped earlier.

  “Drink some of this.”

  She stared up at him, uncomprehending, and so he uncapped the bottle and held it to her lips. This liquid she drank without hesitation, but she sat up, coughing and sputtering, as she choked a little.

  “Went down the wrong way, I think,” she murmured. “What . . . what happened to me?”

  He didn’t know how to answer her, so instead he silently tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt, poured a little water on it, and gently wiped her mouth until no trace of his blood remained.

  She caught his wrist again. “Did you . . . did you give me your blood?”

  “I did. I won’t apologize for it, because it saved your life,” he said roughly.

  “I didn’t ask you to apologize. Thank you.”

  He sat back a little, stunned at her reaction. He’d expected her to rail at him for his presumption.

  “I gave you my blood,” he said slowly, making sure she understood his transgression, so she would hate him and not thank him. Clearly, he was the stupidest man on the planet.

  “It was the first step of a blood bond. I will be able to feel what you feel and know where you are forever now.” He caught her chin in his hand. “Do you get that? I invaded your privacy.”

  “You saved my life,” she shot back at him. “Do you expect me to be angry for that?”

  He blinked, realizing that yes, he’d expected just that. “Uh, well—”

  She touched his face so gently he almost didn’t feel it. “You saved my life. The Emperor was draining me, because the witch discovered a way to use the local magic, some kind of vortex magic, in coordination with channeling the gem. I was dying.”

  She kissed him, slowly, gently, and with such tenderness that he thought he might die from it.

  “You saved my life, Daniel. I only have one request.”

  He looked into her eyes, glowing in the moonlight, and realized he would gladly die for this woman. “Anything. Anything. You only need ask.”

  She took a deep breath and put her arms around his neck. “I want you to make love to me. Now.”

  * * *

  Serai was astonished at her own boldness, but she’d nearly died. Nearly died, after eleven thousand years of living a kind of death, imprisoned in a crystal cage. Nearly died after never having lived. Never having joined with the man she loved.

  That ended here and now.

  She would gladly give her life, such as it was, to the pursuit of the Emperor. She would find it, retrieve it, and return it to Atlantis. She would save the other maidens. But right now, right here, she wanted something for herself.

  She tightened her arms around him and leaned in toward that sinfully seductive mouth of his. “Kiss me,” she said against his lips. “Kiss me.”

  He sat, still as a statue, unmoving in her arms, for so long she was afraid he was thinking of a polite, gentlemanly way to turn her down, although he’d claimed to be no gentleman at all. She was on the edge of losing her nerve when he wrapped his arms around her waist and sprang up, pulling her to her feet so fast she nearly got dizzy again.

  “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of hearing you say just that,” he said roughly. “You want me to kiss you? To make love to you? Are you sure?”

  She didn’t have the words to convince him; they’d vanished in her dry throat, victim of nerves and shyness. But she knew another way. She raised slightly trembling fingers to her shirt and unbuttoned the first button, and then the second, and then the third, before daring to glance back up at him. His dark eyes were trained on the pale skin she was revealing, and a muscle in his jaw jumped as he watched her clumsy attempts at seduction.

  “That would be a yes?” he said, part question, part command. “If so, be very sure. I want you more than I want to take my next breath, and I will not let you go.”

  She nodded, then decided that wouldn’t suffice. “Yes,” she whispered. “Please, yes.”

  He flashed an almost-feral smile at her and she saw the tips of his fangs, but rather than scaring her, they excited her. He’d healed her with his blood, but he hadn’t tasted hers, and she knew that doing so would be aphrodisiac to a nightwalker during lovemaking. His control was too perfect. He held himself back.

  She wanted to shatter his control.

  She wanted him crazy for her.

  She ran her tongue over her lips, tasting a tiny bit of the blood he’d donated to her, and she shivered. Not from cold, but from the thrill of holding this man, being held by him, preparing to fly into the unknown arena of sensuality with Daniel, the one she’d dreamed of for so very long.

  He made a deep growling noise, low in his throat, his eyes fixed on her lips as she licked them again, and then he yanked her against him and leaned forward, bending her back a little over one steel-banded arm.

  “Now. Need you now,” he said, and then he took her mouth with his and showed her just how much he’d been holding back before. She gasped, but he swallowed her gasp, swallowed her breath, took all that she was into himself, claiming every bit of her—even the very oxygen she breathed—as his own.

  His hands roamed all over her, stroking her arms and back and bottom before he took the edge of her shirt in one hand and ripped it aside, scattering her remaining buttons, and a couple of them hit the stones on the ground. The sound of buttons clattering on stone seemed to shock him, and he raised his head from hers and looked around, eyes wild and hot.

  “Not here. Not in the dirt,” he said. “Close your eyes.”

  Before she could ask or protest or even think, he lifted her and started running, carrying her. She had the sensation of moving too fast to be possible, but within seconds he stopped. She opened her eyes and discovered that he’d brought them to a patch of springy grass underneath a stand of tall trees. She could hear the steady noise of the water rushing down the riverbed nearby.

  “I need you,” he repeated, and then he bent his head to kiss her again.

  His hands were all over her, hungry, frantic, and then he was kissing her neck and down her chest to her breasts, and when his lips closed on one of her nipples, she cried out and clung to his shoulders, hoping he’d never let her go.

  “It’s so much,” she said, moaning a little. “So much sensation, so much feeling. I don’t know if I can bear it.”

  He laughed, and the vibrations of his laughter against her sensitive skin made her shiver. He stopped what he was doing, and she felt a pang of loss.

  “Are you cold? I can put out our blankets.” In an instant, he’d done just that, and he carried her down to lie beside him on the blankets, cushioned by the layer of grass.

  “Kiss me,” he demanded. “Touch me. I need to feel your hands on me.”

  She complied, still a little shy, but eager to touch and stroke every part of him. She unbuttoned his shirt, her fingers still trembling, and pressed a kiss to his chest as she revealed each inch of pale, perfect skin. His skin was pure white, like the finest Atlantean porcelain, after so
long away from the sun. His lean, muscled chest narrowed down into a perfect abdomen, and she daringly touched his navel with her tongue. He groaned and his big body shuddered underneath her, and when the bulge of his erection grew even larger, she knew for certain that he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  “I want to see you, Daniel. I want to see all of you,” she whispered, feeling her face flame at her wanton request.

  Before she could say another word, he leapt up and stripped out of his clothes so fast that in seconds he was standing before her, proudly nude, and then he dropped to the blankets next to her and took her back into his arms. She wriggled back a little so she could look her fill at his beautiful body—all lean muscle and perfectly shaped, like the body of a fallen angel come to life. Her gaze went to his manhood and she gasped, feeling her heart plummet in her chest.

  “Daniel. There is no way . . . We cannot fit together . . . That is too large.”

  His eyes widened, and then he started laughing, which embarrassed her even more.

  “Do not laugh at me. I’m serious.”

  “I know you are,” he said, still laughing a little, but interspersing the most delicious kisses between chuckles. “You are adorable.”

  “But—”

  He stroked her breasts, still kissing her, and then he stroked her belly, still kissing her, and then he unbuttoned her pants and pushed them down and out of the way, and his clever fingers suddenly were touching her between her thighs.

  She caught her breath and then kissed him harder, shivering with a lovely, maddening tingly sensation that spiraled from her lips to her breasts to the exact spot where his fingers were circling around her most sensitive part and . . . oh. Oh.