Atlantis Awakening (19 page)

She heard the admiration in his voice. “You think a lot of her, don't you?”

“She was always following me around when she was little. The most curious and annoying little girl child I'd ever known,” he said, fond amusement in his tone. “Who could have guessed that she would grow up to be such a serene beauty?”

She felt a tiny, petty twinge of jealousy at hearing him call the other woman a serene beauty. “Yeah, she's a lot different from me,” she said glumly. “Tall and elegant and serene, not short and dumpy and frazzled.”

Before she heard him move, he was standing behind her, pulling her back against his chest. “Dumpy? Are you having an attack of temporary insanity brought on by standing too close to the fire? You are beautiful, and your body is so perfect that I cannot look at it without imagining you naked.”

Heat rushed through her that had nothing to do with the fire, but still, she was a woman who faced facts. “My butt is way too round,” she said. “It's a family trait, so I can't really hate it, but facts are facts.”

He tightened his arms around her so that she was pressed against the very hard, very unmistakable evidence of his desire. “Your
butt
, as you so inelegantly name this rounded temptation, is as perfectly curved as the rest of your body.” He lifted his hands to cup her breasts, and made a growling sound into her hair. “Speaking of your body…perhaps we could spend some of the hours until dawn wearing fewer clothes?”

She turned her neck and lifted her head and he was simply there, fitting his mouth to hers, and any doubts she had about the rightness of them being together were swept away by the heat of his touch. He kissed her deeply and urgently, and she twisted in his arms and put her own around his neck, still kissing him.

She heard a low moaning sound but wasn't sure if it came from him or from her, because the sound was captured inside of their mouths, which were locked together, their tongues first dueling for supremacy, then surrendering in a tasting, exploring dance of passion. Ven lifted her up off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist, still kissing him, clutching his shoulders tightly, not letting go, never wanting to let go.

Suddenly he jerked his head back from hers and stared wildly around them. “Did you hear that?”

“Did I hear what?” she asked, still dazed from their kisses.

He whispered “
wolves
” in her ear, then lowered her to the floor, saying nothing else. As he lunged for his cache of weapons, eerie sounds resonated through the cabin. It was wolves, howling out something that must have been a warning or a threat. From the sound of it, there were a lot of them.

And they were surrounding the cabin.

Headquarters, Circle of Light

Alaric startled awake out of the half-dozing trance he'd put himself in to speed his recovery. A noise—something unexpected. He looked up to see Justice standing in the open doorway to Gennae's small sitting room, sword in hand.

“You should get out here, Alaric. We're being attacked, and this time it's coordinated,” Justice said grimly. The blood still stained his hair a macabre shade of maroon-streaked blue, and the dark shadows under the warrior's eyes spoke of more pain from his injuries than he'd admitted.

Of course, he'd admitted to none, following the ancient warrior code of “leave the healer to guess.” Alaric snarled at the thought. “I cannot properly heal that which you do not describe to me, Lord Justice.”

Justice, being Justice, snarled right back at him. “Don't bother wasting your time on me, priest. There are many far worse off, including Brennan and Alexios. But right now we need to figure out what's going on out here and make it stop, because there is no fucking way in the nine hells that I will put up with night after night of attacks from these bloodsuckers.” With that, he whirled around and headed down the hall toward the door. As Alaric followed, he mentally tested his readiness to call the sort of power that would proclaim to the undead exactly what—and whom—they were facing.

As he walked out the door and looked up at the dozens of vamps darkening the night sky, a sudden certainty slammed into him that the one directing these attacks knew exactly who he was dealing with—and was coming after them because of it.

Gennae stood a small distance from the front door, holding a shield over the entire building. Even from a dozen paces away, he could sense the strain in her magic. He scanned the group of heavily armed shape-shifters who stood at the front corners of the building. “Quinn and her people are on all corners?” Alaric asked.

Justice hesitated. “Quinn's people are, and Christophe is with them around back.”

Alaric pounced on the omission. “Quinn?”

“Don't aim those glowing eyeballs at me, priest,” Justice growled. “She and the tiger took off several hours ago. I get the feeling they were headed to Mount Rainier to help Ven and Erin, but they dodged my questions.”

Alaric wanted to roar out his rage and frustration, but fought his instincts and remained silent. He sent his senses out into the air to reach for her, but found nothing. She was nowhere near, then.

“If Caligula harms her, he will never again know a single peaceful moment until the time that I flay the skin from his bloodsucking bones,” he said, power thrumming through his voice.

“I'm an expert at flaying, so just tell me the time and place,” Justice replied, examining the edge of his sword. “For now, we should prepare. That red-haired witch doesn't look as if she can hold that shield much longer.”

Alaric nodded, began to stride toward the witch, then paused. “Where are the remaining of the Seven?”

“Denal went through the water to report back to Conlan some time ago. Alexios tried to drag his broken ass out of bed, and I knocked him in the side of the head hard enough to make sure he didn't go anywhere for a while. Brennan is still unconscious.” Justice cast a sharp, measuring glance at him. “Are you sure you're up to this? You don't look all that great yourself.”

“Keep your worries for your own well-being, warrior,” Alaric said, raising his hands to call power. “I have some vampires to incinerate.”

The cabin

Ven peered through a crack in the boards covering one of the windows, while Erin did the same with another. “There are at least seven here,” she whispered.

“Another half dozen on this side,” he said. “Those can't be ordinary wolves.”

She stood with her eyes half closed and her hands held out for a moment, then shook her head. “They're not. They're shifters. There's magic out there, too. Either one of them can call magic or they've got a witch hiding in the trees.”

Just then a female voice called out to them from outside the cabin. “We know you're in there, Erin. You and your Atlantean need to come out now before we smoke you out.”

Erin gasped and steadied herself with one hand on the wall. “That voice! It can't be her—”

“Who?” he demanded, tossing her coat to her.

“Lillian. My friend. She's the one we thought Berenice captured…that must be it. They must be forcing her to do this,” she said, her voice gaining strength. A little color washed back into her pale cheeks as she shrugged into her heavy jacket. “She wouldn't betray us. I know she wouldn't.”

He glanced outside again. “Regardless of her motive or whether it's voluntary, we'd better do what she says. Because she's standing there with a torch, and five of those wolves just shifted into their were-shapes. I'm game to take on a crowd of eight-foot-tall monsters on my own, but I'm not going to risk you, especially since there are more of them surrounding us.”

She raised her chin. “We'll see what they want. Don't forget, I have power, too.”

“I'm not forgetting anything, but are you as powerful as she is? Honestly?” He kept his voice gentle, but he needed to know the facts. “Exactly what chance do you have against her?”

“It depends. I'm stronger than I let any of them know, but if she's called the dark magic, I can't match that.”

“Even with your gem singer powers?”

She shook her head. “I don't know. I don't know enough about what I'm doing, yet. I need—”

“Time's up, Erin,” Lillian shouted. “Come out now or we're going to see how fast old wood burns.”

“Let's do it,” Ven said. “Stay behind me.”

“Right. Because you have a chance against an eleventh-level witch? I don't think so. Maybe you should stay behind me,” she replied, her voice hardly shaking at all. He pulled her to him and kissed her, hard, then threw the door open and stepped out.

“Why does this sound so familiar?” he drawled, scanning the growing crowd of Weres facing him and flanking the gray-haired witch who stood in the center. There must have been fifteen or more, all shifted to their were-shapes.

All acting like they were in a bad freaking mood.
Great.

“Wait, I know. Wasn't there some story about the big, bad wolf who died horribly at the end?” he continued.

One of the Weres, a huge muddy-brown hulking monster, snarled at him, displaying dripping fangs. “That makes you the little pigs, human,” he growled in the distorted voice distinctive to his Were form.

Ven drew his sword. “This little pig has teeth, dog breath. State your business and get out.”

The witch spoke. “Very amusing bodyguard you've found, my dear. But then you and your sisters and your bitch of a mother always were good at attracting the handsomest men around, weren't you?”

Erin flinched as if she'd taken a physical blow. “Lillian? Are they controlling you somehow? How could you…why could you—”

Lillian laughed, and her laughter had an edge of madness to it. “Right. Poor, weak Lillian must have somebody else pulling her strings in order to step out from behind the shadow cast by Berenice and Gennae, right? Or, ten years ago, by Gwendolyn? She took your father away from me, did you know that? Pretended to be my friend and then stole him, bedded him, and married him all before I even knew what was happening.”

Erin stood next to Ven, trembling. He watched her for signs of shock with the fraction of his attention he dared take away from the Weres, who kept edging closer.

“You must be insane! My father loved my mother, and both of them were never anything more than friends to you. But no matter what you think happened, does it justify this? Hurting people who love you? Are you…did you have anything to do with that attack on us?”

Lillian sneered at them. “Still a little slow, aren't you? Guess it's true what they say about blondes. I helped plan that attack, you idiot. Just as I helped plan most of the attacks for the past ten years. Caligula promised me a seat on his ruling council once we've taken over. Once we rule as we were born to do.”

Ven whistled, a long, slow sound of disbelief. “Are you stupid? Or did you just skip history class a lot? If you think you can trust the word of a monster like Caligula, you should have maybe had a chat with Tiberius about who held the pillow that smothered him, back in March of thirty-seven.”

Erin shot him a glance, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, I'm a history buff, what can I say,” he said, shrugging. “Plus my great-grandfather used to drink wine with the man occasionally.”

“Shut up, shut up,
shut up!
” Lillian screeched. “I am sick to death of being ignored! Gennae and Berenice spent the past decade ignoring and overruling me on coven decisions. Your parents ignored me when they fucked their way to wedded bliss. But no one will ignore me any longer!! I'm taking over the Circle of Light tonight!” Lillian raised her arms and glowing balls of fire formed in her palms.

Erin mirrored her action, calling her own fire, and Ven interrupted them. “Wait! How are you taking over the coven if you're here? Not to douse your enthusiasm, but the Circle of Light HQ is a couple hours north of here, depending on traffic. Of course, I guess you could ride your broom,” he said.

Lillian's face turned a vivid shade of purple, and she hurled one of the balls of witch fire at him. Erin threw a quick shield up, blocking it, and it bounced into a tree, which immediately exploded.

“You idiot! I'm here taking care of you while Caligula and Drakos are in Seattle! I don't know why you're his obsession, but I'm not going to stand by and watch him drool over you and your sister the way I had to watch your father drool over your mother. If you're dead, Caligula and I can focus on more important matters, like
our
plans.”

The Were next to her roared what was probably supposed to be a spine-tingling, terror-inducing roar. “I give it a six point five,” Ven said. “Maybe throw in an extra point for pure ugly.”

The Were snarled at him and crouched, clearly preparing to attack.

“No sense of humor in the pack these days, hmm, boys?” Ven said, drawing a dagger from its sheath with his left hand and holding up his sword with his right, then he glanced at Erin, who stood frozen beside him. “Why do they always have to blather on and on about their quest for world domination, the glory of evil, blah blah blah? If you knew how many times I've had to listen to this self-serving whale shit over the centuries, you might understand how much fun I'm going to have skewering these furballs.”

Erin finally seemed to snap out of the fog of pain and shock and betrayal that had paralyzed her, and she looked up at him, then back at Lillian. “One question, you traitorous bitch. What did you do with Berenice?”

Lillian's lips curved in a smile of such concentrated malice that even Ven felt the chill of it snake down his spine. Then she held up her hands again, and the balls of witch fire raised a few inches from her palms, illuminating the dark red stains coating her hands and arms. “Even you should know that I needed a blood sacrifice to call the dark. Let's just say that it didn't have to be a willing sacrifice.”

Erin threw back her head and howled, a cry of such pure anger and grief that it rivaled the wolves' howls. “Then this is revenge, Lillian,” she snarled out.

“Try your best, Erin,” Lillian replied. “But know before you die that at least one of your sisters fell to my hand.”

With that final thrust, Lillian said, “Go!” and the Weres attacked. Ven had time to see Erin throw an arrow of glowing witch fire at Lillian before the first ugly hulk of a Were was on him. He channeled water and smashed their front line with a six-foot-high tidal wave of everything he could pull to throw at them, but it only knocked them off their feet for a few moments and then they were back on the attack.

He had time to think that he'd always been better with his blades than with calling the elements, and then all he could do was defend and attack—slash and stab and slash again, ducking and rolling and leaping as he did so, cutting down first one, then another. Flashes of lightning-bright explosions of witch light illuminated the sky over them, telling the tale of Erin's battle with the traitor.

He fought furiously, slicing through hamstrings, through hearts, through necks, taking blows to his kidneys, his back, his head, claws and fangs and feet kicking and tearing at him until his skull rang from the pain and both he and his blades dripped with blood. He heard a distant roaring and realized it was him, calling Erin, calling Poseidon, shouting out his oath to protect her.

He grinned—a fierce, feral baring of teeth—and the Were coming at him hesitated for a moment, staring into his face with its beast eyes, which gave Ven time to gut it on his sword.

A loud, thunderous noise began to shake the ground around and under them, and Erin screamed. “Yes, sing to me, sing with me,” she screamed, and he realized it must be the Nereid's Heart somehow responding to the gem singer. Then she started to sing, and the remaining Weres around him flinched back as if from something even scarier than Ven's blades. They clapped their paws over their ears and fell to the ground, letting loose a discordant, terrified howl, rolling and cringing on the ground. Ven started to slice heads from bodies, but the warrior that he was could not in honor take the lives of helpless, cowering victims, so he turned to face Lillian and determine the threat she posed.

Erin's song reached a high pitch far above soprano, a song that surely humpback whales would have recognized, and she threw her hands straight out in front of her and a bolt of pure silver light shot forth, straight toward Lillian. As he watched, keeping an eye on the fallen Weres and gasping for breath, Lillian's body lifted off the ground and somehow expanded, as though the light filled her and was pushing out at her flesh, trying to force its way through. Then, in an instant, the light vanished and she fell, hard, to the ground. Erin dropped her hands, bent her head, and stood, panting, apparently exhausted but unharmed.