do this monstrous thing.
“Please, Daniel. Please help me save my sisters,” she whispered, and his resolve crumpled into dust like the fragile bones of long-forgotten principles.
His fangs descended, and he clamped a tight control on the bloodlust, which was screaming at him to take her blood, take all of it, take
“Just a little bit. Just enough to heal this wound.”
“And enough to strengthen you for what lies ahead. There are certainly going to be those ready to try to stop us,” she said, looking up at him with those incredibly lovely eyes. “I trust you, Daniel. Maybe more than you trust yourself.”
“That wouldn’t be hard to do.” He still only half-believed he was going to do it, but she was right. If they didn’t gain a little strength, their mission was doomed, and her death was all but certain.
Or maybe he was lying to himself. It didn’t matter, though. He couldn’t fight both Serai and himself. He was going to do this.
He leaned closer and put the tiniest bit of compulsion in his gaze, calling on the nightwalker magic to help him seduce her into enjoying his bite instead of feeling the pain as his teeth punctured her skin.
She sighed as she went under, smiling dreamily up at him. “Oh, Daniel, I want to affirm life with you again right now. Is that normal?”
Her smile blasted through the last of the battle-hardened defenses that he’d built around his heart and he fell, body and soul. He was hers, and she was his. What better way to strengthen that bond?
He kissed her neck, very gently, and then sank his fangs into her skin directly over her pulse. The rush of her blood was like nothing he’d ever tasted or experienced before, and the taste was beyond description. Spicy and exhilarating and delicious; as if a fountain of pure magic were entering his mouth and body. He had to fight against the bloodlust and against his own monstrous instincts to force himself to take only a little; only enough that he could feel his body healing and renewing itself.
He carefully closed the puncture marks on her neck with his tongue, and then he bent his forehead to hers. “Thank you,
Her head lolled back against his arm, and his heart jumped in his chest as he realized that even the little blood he’d taken might have been too much for her, in her weakened state.
“’S my turn?” she said, her words slurring. “Feel a l’il drunk.”
“Yes, it’s your turn. Hang on.” He frantically tore the sleeve of his shirt in his haste to get it out of the way and then bit into his wrist. Carefully holding it over her mouth, he lifted her head up so she wouldn’t choke.
She hesitated but didn’t fight him before she closed her mouth around the tear in his skin and drank. As he watched, he could see the lines of strain on her beautiful face smooth out and disappear. She only drank from him for a very little while—less than half a minute—and the pure sensuality of the experience was enough to drive him nearly mad. He’d shared blood before, but it had never been like this. The headiest aphrodisiac could not compare to the feel of Serai’s lips on his skin, and the sight of her throat as she drank. The sensation of his blood being pulled from his skin and into her mouth was enough to sear every nerve ending in his body into a throbbing readiness.
If they ever shared blood while making love, he thought he might die from the sheer pleasure of it.
She leaned her head back, away from his wrist, and he closed the wound with a quick swipe of his tongue. She smiled up at him, and it was the smile of a woman well sated by her man—a smile so sensual and seductive that it took every ounce of his willpower to keep from stripping her clothes from her and plunging into her right there on the ground.
“I feel so very much better,” she said, still smiling. “Still a little drunk, but in a good way. I feel like I could run a thousand miles and fight a thousand enemies.”
“Drinking vampire blood can have that effect sometimes,” he said, returning her smile.
“And the other part? Is it always so . . . sexual?” She bit her lip, as if afraid of the answer.
“No, never,” he said firmly. “I have never felt like that when taking blood or sharing my own. Usually it’s more like drinking a glass of juice.”
She giggled, actually giggled, and he thanked any gods who were listening that this insane plan had worked, but she quickly sobered. “We have to go now, Daniel. I can feel the Emperor more strongly than ever. Its power is building, as if . . . it sounds strange, I know, but almost as if the gemstone is becoming angry at its misuse. Does that make any sense at all?”
“It’s the possession of a god, Serai. Anything at all can make sense; the more frightening, the more plausible, I think.”
He helped her to stand up, and then, because he could keep from doing so no more than he could keep from breathing, he kissed her, long and deep. The energy from her blood rushed through him, potent and powerful, and he believed he could take on Poseidon himself for that gem.
“Do you hear it?” Serai looked around, an expression of pure awe on her face. “The sounds of the night. They’re so clear now. Is that because I drank your blood? Does it always sound so incredibly beautiful to you, as if your dreams themselves were transformed into music?”
“I remember a time, long, long ago, when the enhanced nightwalker senses seemed magical to me,” he said. “But never as magical as they do now, with you here to share them with me.”
“We can explore the world together, Daniel. After this quest is done, and my sisters safely restored.” She twirled around like a giddy girl, laughing and flinging her arms wide. “All over the world, what do you say?”
“As you wish,” he said, smiling at the memory of another princess, in a movie Ven had once shown him. “I can be the Dread Pirate Daniel.”
She stopped twirling and stared at him, perplexed. “What? A pirate?”
He laughed. “It’s a long story, for another time. For now, maybe you should contact Conlan and Ven so they can hurry up and—”
“No! I will not call them, nor answer their call. I don’t trust them.” She yanked the backpack up off the ground and took off walking so fast she was nearly running.
He raced to catch up with her. “What do you mean?”
“They must have known Lord Justice was planning to attack. Perhaps they even ordered him to do so. I don’t trust them. Who knows what secret agenda they have? If my sisters die because of their political maneuvering or whatever reason they sent Justice after us, without telling us, then they will pay for it with every ounce of magic I still possess.”
“But we don’t know that Justice didn’t act on his own. Besides, we need all the help we can get, Serai. I won’t risk your life.” He knew even as he said it that it was no good. She wasn’t listening, but he had to try.
She glared at him, raising her chin in that determined way she had, and he knew he’d been right. “Nor will I risk yours. That sword wound could have killed you, and I blame High Prince Barnacle Dung for it. We go on alone. Now that I’m so much stronger, I can use my magic to mask our trail and my presence, even on the mental pathway, from other Atlanteans.” She paused and took his hand. “I feel it, Daniel. I feel that this is the way it’s meant to be. Please? I need your help.”
He sighed. There they were, those four deadly words again.
“As you wish, Princess. As you wish.”
Chapter 24
As Ivy slept, wrapped in a sleeping bag on an air mattress on the cave floor, Nicholas watched her, reassuring himself that she was well; merely sleeping and not unconscious. Not that he cared about her. No, she was merely a tool, and as he’d said, he kept his tools in good working order.
He forced himself to walk away from her, although there wasn’t really anyplace to go. They were holed up in a cave, like animals. Not his first choice of accommodations, especially when he had a perfectly serviceable mansion in Sedona, but he’d been afraid that moving Ivy would harm her further. Overuse of her magic, combined with the shock from seeing him kill Smithson, had pushed her past the limit of what she could endure.
Her son, who had finally succumbed to his own exhaustion, slept in his own sleeping bag next to his mother.
