Vampire in Atlantis by Alyssa Day Read Free Book Online Page B

died.
    Nicholas was faintly disappointed.

Chapter 6
     

     

A cavern above Dry Creek Basin, northwest of Sedona, Arizona
     
    Daniel watched Serai as she tossed and turned in a restless sleep, her hair tangling around her. He wanted to stroke it back from her face, whisper soothing endearments to ease her, but those were a lover’s prerogatives, so he refrained. Also, if he touched her, she might wake up, and she needed to rest. She was exhausted and the sun’s pull called to him to sleep, too, but he wasn’t willing to close his eyes for a minute. She might disappear again. This dream he was living in which a long-dead love suddenly returned to him at the moment he’d finally decided to face his own death was too surreal to be true. He couldn’t trust it yet.
    He wasn’t sure he trusted her, either.
    It was too . . . something . Too coincidental, too unexpected, too unreal.
    And so, here he was again, back to reality, or the lack thereof. His mind and heart had fought over the problem during the past hour or so while she slept, but he couldn’t quite reach a conclusion. Quinn and Jack had been real enough. He didn’t know whether to laugh or snarl at the memory of Jack rolling over to show his belly like a submissive kitten being chided by its mother. If Jack had hurt Serai, Daniel would have ripped him to tiny, furry pieces.
    Slowly.
    But Serai hadn’t needed his help. A saber-toothed tiger, of all the impossible things. He’d known she had some magic, back when she was a girl, but this? Again, his mind stuttered at the paradox. Back when she was a girl—no. She’d been a woman then, as she was now. Almost to her twenty-fifth birthday when he’d known her. An important one, in Atlantean culture; the birthday that signaled she was old enough to be courted. To wed.
    He’d had plans for that birthday. He’d begun sketches for a piece of jewelry he wanted to craft for her from the most amazing Atlantean metal, orichalcum. Like copper infused with silver, tensile and malleable yet stronger than steel. He’d wanted to design and forge a pendant that captured her beauty and her grace, but nothing had seemed good enough. Never elegant enough.
    He’d been a blacksmith’s apprentice, after all, not a jeweler’s.
    She kicked the blanket off again, and he gave in to the impulse and gently pulled her onto his lap. He wanted—no, he needed —to hold her in his arms again. To prove to himself that she was real. Her soft warmth belied the notion that she might be a ghost, and he had to fight himself to keep from holding her so tightly she wouldn’t be able to breathe. She stirred a little, but didn’t wake.
    The scent of the ocean surrounded her; more fragile and yet more perfect than any perfume. She smelled of sunlight, salt water, and hope. The hope that he might indeed have a future. One with someone other than his faithful, constant companions over the last millennia: loneliness and despair. The search for redemption alone was never enough to keep a man warm at night, not body or heart or soul.
    But Serai—she was everything. If only she could ever forgive him.
    If only he could trust her.
    If only he could trust reality. He tightened his embrace, as if strength alone could capture moonlight.
    Her eyes flew open and she stared up at him, terrified again, as if she remembered nothing, or else far too much. She started to speak, but her body suddenly went into spasm, and she arched up in his arms, her head almost smashing into his chin before he jerked his head back and out of the way. She screamed loud and long, with such a piercing shriek that two of Quinn’s guards ran into the room, weapons at the ready.
    “It’s just a bad dream,” he yelled at them. “Stay out.”
    “Hell of a bad dream,” one of them observed.
    But they left, and that’s all he cared about. As she gasped for breath, he rocked back and forth, making soothing noises, trying to think of what might calm her down or wake her up or