Vampire in Atlantis

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 too 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