She chose life for Daniel, and he spent the next several thousand years trying not to hate her for it, since she had escaped into death without him. But by the time she made that fateful choice, the Atlantean armies had beaten back the invaders, and Serai’s father’s guards burst into the shop and found her. They took her, fighting them all the way, away from the shop, away from Daniel, and away from any future that he and Serai might have hoped for. By the time Daniel was transformed from a nearly dead human into a nightwalker, Atlantis had vanished—destroyed—and all trace of it had sunken beneath the sea, or so everyone had believed.
He finished his pathetic tale and looked up, expecting Quinn to mock him for his weakness. What he saw instead shocked him. Quinn, the tough rebel leader who’d challenged monsters and battled horrors that would have made other humans curl up and beg to die, had tears in her eyes.
“Don’t,” he said harshly. “Don’t cry for me. I don’t deserve it.”
“Maybe I’m crying for both of us,” she said quietly. “You know I can never be with Alaric. The best I can hope for is at least I take a bunch of the bad guys with me when I meet my early and violent end.”
“A little melodramatic, Quinn.”
“A lot true.” She shrugged. “You have a chance, though. Go find her. Help her. Be who she needs and save her from all of this. Most of us don’t get a second chance, Daniel. Don’t waste yours.”
An icy wind swept into the cavern, interrupting whatever he’d been about to say, and Daniel threw himself in front of Quinn to protect her from this new danger, but it was only Alaric. Daniel almost laughed, even as the thought entered his mind. Only Alaric.
The priest was Quinn’s biggest danger of all.
Daniel felt the click inside his being that signaled the setting sun, but he waited to be sure Quinn—his friend—would be okay. “Are you all right with him?”
Alaric made a low sound, deep in his throat, and his eyes glowed a hot green.
“Save it, Priest,” Daniel advised. “You don’t want to go up against me. Nightwalker Guild. Senior mage. Look it up sometime.”
Quinn smiled a little. “Seriously. He’s hell on picnic tables. Go ahead, Daniel. I’m fine.”
Daniel didn’t wait any longer, especially since he knew the priest would give his own life to protect Quinn, and the two of them probably wanted some privacy anyway, to work out their own problems. If there was any possibility they could work them out, Quinn deserved that chance.
Not his business. He launched himself into the air and flew out of the cavern, soaring through the cool dusk sky to where he knew Serai waited. He could feel her, and he needed to find her. Now. And make her understand that she could never, ever leave him again until she was safe.
Then she could rip his heart out. Not before.
Oak Creek Canyon
As the sun finally sank beneath the horizon, Serai wrapped her arms around her knees and prepared to face the music.
Or face the vampire, to be exact. Although she liked the expression “face the music.” She’d quite liked “the bee’s knees,” too, but that one had fallen out of use some time ago. She realized her mind was racing around random irrelevant subjects, but she couldn’t help it. She’d spent the past couple of hours trying to contact the Emperor, worrying about what to do next, and feeling like an utter fool over her mistake about Reisen’s hand.
One thing was clear: she was done screaming like a foolish girl. It was time to gear up for battle, as her father used to say, although of course he’d spent time as an actual officer in the king’s guard, so maybe his meaning had been different. She needed to be strong. What other woman on the planet had so much knowledge of life, after all? Even though she hadn’t experienced any of it.
“I can do this,” she said firmly, and the sleeping tiger opened one bright green eye and looked at her.
Before she could explain what she could do, or even draw her next breath, Daniel was there. Just suddenly there, as if he’d dropped out of the sky, which, on reflection, she realized he had. He pulled her into his arms and held her so tightly she couldn’t breathe.
“Never again,” he demanded, his voice rough. “Never leave me again. Never run into danger when I can’t follow you. If something happened to you . . .”
Jack rolled to all four legs and snarled at Daniel, but his heart didn’t seem to be in it, since he scratched his ear with one giant paw and then ambled off, probably to find Quinn.
Serai leaned into Daniel, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his arms and hide from the rest of the world and her duty. She pretended, just for a few moments, that they were an ordinary couple who could afford the time to visit a lovely place and hold each other. Play tourist. Grow old together.
He’d never grow old, though, and she might die any minute, if they didn’t find the Emperor. She reluctantly pulled away from him.
“I’m sorry. About Reisen. I should have trusted you. I’ve been stupid, but that’s over,” she said, squaring her shoulders.
His eyes were perfectly, completely black with some suppressed emotion. Probably disgust. “Never apologize to me. Never. I should have been more careful; I should have—”
“I can feel it,” she interrupted, as another wave of pain struck, biting hard. “I can feel the Emperor. We can track it. It’s not that far away.”
Chapter 10
Daniel took Serai’s hand and headed back to the cave, which also served as the temporary headquarters of Quinn’s rebels. There would be supplies. Gear. Whatever he needed to help Serai find that damn stone and be safe. He swept a glance down her curves, now neatly attired in the same nondescript tan pants and white shirt that many of the others wore, and he couldn’t help but miss the filmy gown. But even in the plain contemporary clothing, with her glorious hair restrained in a simple braid down her back, she was obviously an Atlantean high-born lady. The way she held her head, the electric charge of restrained magic, even her graceful carriage in spite of the chunky hiking boots that now adorned her feet—nobody would mistake her for anything but aristocracy.
And all he wanted to do was remove every stitch of the new clothing and wrap himself around her until every inch of their skin was touching. Hold her. Explore her curves and learn her body. Teach her the ways of a man and a woman together, and discover for himself what it would be like to be with a woman whom his heart desired, not just his body. Even her braid tantalized him, as if begging him to release it and spread her hair out on silken sheets. He remembered fantasizing, so long ago, about her wearing nothing to his bed but the necklace he’d designed for her.
A stupid fantasy. The blacksmith and the beauty, indeed. Only in Hollywood’s version of fairy tales did a story like that work out.
“Daniel,” she murmured. “You’re holding my hand a little too tight.”
He relaxed his grip, feeling like a fool. Or the beast he’d named himself. She deserved better. Once she was safe and back in Atlantis, he was sure Conlan would find someone for her. Someone far more worthy than a vampire with blood on his hands. It was for the best.
So why did the mere thought of it make him want to kill someone?
“I don’t know you anymore,” she said. “It’s neither excuse nor apology, but I don’t know the man you’ve become, and I don’t know what violence you’re capable of doing in a moment’s anger. I had little contact with nightwalkers—my only experience, in fact, was with the master of your smithy and the fact that he didn’t eat me when we were trapped in that hole in the ground.”