Atlantis Awakening (20 page)

The Weres began howling even more loudly, still cowering and rolling on the ground, so Ven ran toward the fallen witch, sword raised, prepared to take the final killing stroke and spare Erin that pain.

But when he reached her, her neck lay at an impossible angle to her head and her eyes gazed blankly at the sky.

“She's dead, Erin,” he said. “She can't hurt anyone else anymore.”

“I know,” she said, and—for a brief moment—the pitiless goddess he'd seen in her in Atlantis shone forth from her eyes. Then the moment passed and she put a hand over her mouth and ran to the side of the cabin where she vomited, violently, into the snow.

He wanted to go to her, but there was the matter of the eight remaining Weres to deal with, and he swore viciously under his breath as he stared at them.

“Need some help with your animal control problem?” A female voice came from behind him, startling him, and he whirled around to face a small woman sitting astride an enormous tiger. As he gaped at her, Quinn hopped off her snarling mount and walked up to him. “Jack and I are here to help.”

Erin stood up, scrubbed fresh snow over her face, then walked toward them. “Quinn. It's good to see you. We have news to share.”

Quinn nodded grimly while Jack stalked around the group of cowering Weres, viciously snarling at any who dared to raise their heads. “We have news, too, and it's not good.”

The treetops near the
Circle of Light Headquarters

Daniel stared down at the vampires circling the magical shield through his new and improved vision, which now bizarrely kaleidoscoped into a prism of infrared gone multicolored. If he'd known he'd gain this kind of power from drinking the blood of an ancient vampire, he would have drained the bastard the first time he'd met him. His wounds were entirely healed, and he felt the life force of more energy than he'd had since becoming undead pumping through his body.

Although he'd come closer to the permanent death than he ever had before in the doing of it, dragging his bloody carcass back to the mountain had sealed Caligula's trust in him. Now he would finally have the opportunity to destroy the monster, and the world would be a much better place.

At least until the next would-be conqueror popped up. He'd thought Barrabas's death would have thrown off course—even a little—the evil vampire's insidious encroachment of power over the human political infrastructure. But even after permanent death, Barrabas's influence continued to spread. The perfect example of what a good strategist with absolutely no boundaries could accomplish.

Daniel watched the members of Caligula's blood pride scurrying along the edges of the shield below and admitted the grim truth to himself. Four days out of five, he was discouraged enough to consider facing the true death. If he hadn't met the Atlanteans and Quinn and finally had partners in his covert efforts, he certainly would have done it sooner. Life—even undead life—needs hope, and Daniel was all out of that.

“Drakos!” Caligula thundered at him. “Get over here and help me determine how to break through that witch's shield!”

Daniel nodded and floated through the treetops toward his so-called master.
Soon. The very first chance I get, Caligula, your ass is mine.

The cabin

Ven entered the cabin and his gaze immediately went to Erin, who sat curled up into a ball on their sleeping bags. She'd probably drained all her power again, but somehow she'd overpowered a witch who sat two levels ahead of her on the power grid, or whatever the magical folk called it. Unless he was reading her wrong, she'd also killed her first person, which was never an easy thing to get past.

It never
should
be an easy thing to get past,
he thought grimly,
no matter whether it was your first kill or your hundredth kill.
Even if, like him, you'd killed so many you couldn't even keep track anymore. Killing was killing, and the gods more than likely kept some kind of giant scorecard until the end of your days. If they did, surely they'd note Erin's courage, which had shone more brightly than her witch fire. He walked over to her and pulled her onto his lap, then simply sat in silence, arms encircling her, and breathed in the scent of her hair.

The door banged open and Jack, in human form now, although he didn't take up all that much less space on two legs, strode in with Quinn right behind him. “They didn't know anything about Caligula's plans,” Jack said, brushing wet snow off his hair. “They were way down on the food chain, so to speak.”

Ven raised an eyebrow. “They
were
way down on the food chain?”

Jack's eyes looked more big cat than human when he replied. “Yeah. They were.”

Quinn's face was nearly as pale as Erin's, and her eyes had gone flat and dead. Either she was a stone-cold killer or she retreated from the world when she was forced to do horrible things in the name of her cause.
Their
cause, he silently amended. Knowing Riley, Ven was pretty sure that Quinn was no cold-blooded murderer. So it must be an extremely tough road that she walked. Even as Ven admired Quinn's dedication and her courage, he promised himself that Erin would never need to face that bleak path.

“There's coffee,” Erin said, her voice nearly inaudible. “And some canned food on the shelves and nonperishable stuff we brought with us.”

Quinn aimed her intense focus at Erin. “You don't need to play hostess, gem singer. We can—” She broke off midsentence and swiftly crossed the room to crouch down in front of Erin. “Oh, no, Erin. You can't feel like that over her. She was a traitor.”

“What?” Erin lifted her head, then dropped it back on her knees. “Oh, the emotional empath thing. Riley's sister, so you, too, I guess. Well, stay out of my head.” There was no heat behind her words, just a dull apathy that scared Ven more than an emotional outburst would have.

“Ven, Jack. Get out,” Quinn said, standing. “Now.”

Ven's arms tightened around Erin. “I don't know what you—”

“Get. Out. Now,” she repeated, but she didn't take her gaze from Erin, and the sympathy and understanding in Quinn's eyes decided him.

“Okay with you,
mi amara?
” he murmured to Erin.

She shrugged, but then moved off of his lap, so he took that as assent and stood up to leave. “I'll be right outside if you need me.”

Quinn quirked an amused grin at him. “I'm not as scary as I look, big brother.”

“Big…” He clapped a hand to his forehead. “Oh, by the gods, I never considered that. When Riley and Conlan wed, we'll be family. How am I going to survive that?” he groaned.

Quinn reached up and ruffled his hair, as if he were a tiny youngling. “It's okay, Bro. I promise to take it easy on you at the family reunions.”

Still groaning, he followed Jack out of the cabin, sneaking a final glance at Erin as he went through the door. He was relieved to see a shadow of a smile on her face. Maybe Quinn could impart some measure of peace where he could not. All he could think to do was love her senseless until she slept, and that wasn't really practical at the moment.

“Come on, fish boy,” Jack said. “I'll teach you how to hunt for dinner that doesn't come out of a can.”

Ven waited until the golden shimmer of transformation ended and the tiger stood where the man had been before he answered. “That's fish man to you, fur face.”

The tiger growled and bounded off into the woods, and Ven followed, shaking his head at the realization that his circle of friends suddenly included witches, rebels, and tigers.

Headquarters, Circle of Light

Justice stalked the perimeter of the shield and thought for the third or fourth time in twenty minutes that he was glad to be on Alaric's side. The priest had added his strength to Gennae's, and the shield was entirely impermeable to the maddened vamps who repeatedly hurled their bodies against it, fangs gnashing and red eyes glowing with murderous intent.

He swore under his breath as one of them dove straight at him out of the overhanging trees and smacked off the shield inches from his head. Scanning the treetops, he caught a glimpse of somebody who looked a lot like Daniel, at least from a distance, which would mean the vampire had survived Alaric's blast at the warehouse.

Justice didn't know whether to call that a plus or minus. Daniel in Drakos guise would have a plan to get at Caligula from the inside. Or so the theory went.

Personally, the idea that Daniel/Drakos was playing them all as some sort of undead double agent had crossed Justice's mind more than once. The vamp looked like a man with secrets, and Justice was definitely in a position to recognize secrets. Like calling to like.

Not that Justice could ever tell his. At least to anyone he didn't want to kill.

“Justice,” Alaric called out to him. “I think we need a plan. That is Caligula with Drakos, and he is commanding this attack. But if I release the shields to retaliate, these vampires will overtake the field.”

“They cannot enter the building without being invited, isn't that true?”

“It should be true, with the warding, especially. But the arcane rules of vampire abilities as pertains to public buildings may hold sway here,” Alaric replied, his eyes glowing a fierce emerald green.

Gennae lowered her arms. “Thank you for humoring me, but it's clear you're holding this shield without me, Alaric. Perhaps if you release it to me, you could step through in the moment we transfer? And we have had vampires attempt to gain entrance to the headquarters below, with very bad results for them.”

Justice narrowed his eyes. “I'm not sure what you mean by ‘very bad results,' but a couple of things spring to mind. One, they could have been faking in order to get you to let your guard down. Two, what may affect a baby vamp is not going to be the same thing that affects a master vamp as old as Caligula.”

“If they were faking, spontaneously catching fire as they forced themselves past our wards is a pretty convincing way to do it,” she snapped. “And I am well aware of the power of ancient vampires. But you Atlanteans have fought them for centuries, haven't you?”

Alaric inclined his head. “We have, lady. But never until recently have we had to combat coordinated attacks. The undead are not the community type, nor have they ever been, and defeating isolated attackers is an entirely different proposition.”

Christophe came running around the edge of the building. “I don't know how deep that shield runs, but the vamps behind the building just started digging underneath it.”

Alaric swore viciously in Atlantean, then his eyes glowed even more brightly and Justice's skin sizzled with the zing of sheer, raw power being channeled by the most powerful high priest in the history of Atlantis. Several seconds passed, and then he nodded. “The shield now runs twelve feet deep into the ground, and I can extend it into a seamless sphere around this place if need be.”

“Did I mention I'm glad I'm on your side?” Justice muttered before beginning to pace back and forth in front of the shield's edge again. “Why not just let them in? If they can't get in the building—although, granted, that's a big
if
—we're only outnumbered eight or nine to one.”

“Which would be reasonable for Atlantean warriors, perhaps, but we have tired and wounded shape-shifters fighting with us, and we are not at full strength, either,” Alaric said, glancing down at the bandages wrapped around Justice's chest that gleamed white in the darkness under his open shirt.

“It's a scratch,” he protested. He scanned their group, grudgingly recognizing the weary, stumbling gait of exhaustion in most of the shape-shifters, many of whom were recovering from their own
scratches
.

“Okay, you may have a point,” Justice admitted. “Then what's the plan?”

“Gennae's plan has merit. I will go out and…discuss…the situation with Caligula, while she holds the shield,” Alaric said, baring his teeth.

“If
discuss
is Atlantean for ‘wipe the murdering monster off the face of the planet,' then I would be completely in agreement with that plan,” Gennae said.

“You're not going anywhere without me,” Justice snarled, daring the priest to disagree.

“Same goes,” Christophe stated, drawing his daggers.

Alaric raised one black eyebrow. “I would not have expected otherwise.”

The cabin

Erin warily raised her head to see what Quinn was doing. The woman had been silent for several minutes; she hadn't spoken a word since she'd ordered the men out of the cabin. Quinn sat on the floor, cross-legged, in front of the fire, staring into the flames.

“Did you want to talk to me or something? Girls-only pep talk? Maybe a bunch of ‘it's all right to kill in the name of Life, Liberty, and the American Way'?” The words came out with more weariness and less sarcasm than she'd intended. Maybe she just didn't have any fight left in her.

Quinn pinned her with a dark look. “Is that what you need to hear? Will that make it better? If so, rah rah, go, you.”

Confusion broke through the numbness. “What did you want to talk to me about, then?”

Quinn sighed. “Mostly, I just wanted to listen. Do you think that it gets easier to kill just because you've done it more than once? It doesn't. If anything, it gets harder.”

“Then how do you do it? How do you do what you do, day after day, month after month?” Erin clenched her hands together so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Even staking vampires isn't a black and white proposition—many of them are neighbors, friends, contributing members of society who just happen to drink blood. How can you look at faces that are exactly like ours and kill them?”

“Some of your best friends are vamps, is that it?” Quinn said bitterly. “Look, you're not telling me anything I don't know. Like I said, it gets harder and harder. Every life taken, even an undead life, is another black mark on my record. Another stain on my soul.” She laughed. “Listen to me: ‘stain on my soul.' Suddenly I'm a drama queen.”

“What if it is? What if my soul is irreparably stained because I killed Lillian tonight? She wasn't a shape-shifter or a vampire. She was human.”

“She was a monster,” Quinn said flatly. “Ven told us that she boasted about killing both your sister and your fellow witch and helping to plan the murder of your family. Do you really think she deserved to live?”

Erin stared at Quinn. The light from the fire played over her face like an eerie foreshadowing of the flames of hell. Erin shook off the fanciful sense of dread and considered the question for a while. Finally, she shook her head. “I did what I had to do, and I'd do it again. It was self-defense, and I was defending Ven, because even if he'd killed every one of those Weres, she would have murdered him, too. But don't ask me to decide who deserves to live. That is a question for the Goddess.”

Quinn turned back to face the fire. “Maybe. Or maybe your Goddess and my God gave us the power to defeat them as an answer to the question. Either way, I refuse to let this go on any longer. I can't stand by and pretend not to notice that the vampires are taking over our political leadership, enacting law after law in favor of the undead over humans. I can't stand by and let groups of rogue shape-shifters kill humans who get caught up in their territorial struggles.”

A wave of hopeless despair washed over Erin. “Can we make a difference, Quinn? Do you really believe that your efforts amount to anything? I feel like we're all playing a carnival game for giants. Do you know that game where you whack the plastic gophers with a mallet as they pop up out of the holes? No matter how many you hit, more keep coming and coming?”

A ghost of a smile crossed Quinn's face. “Yes, I've played that game. Back when I had time for things like street fairs and carnivals. Seems like ages ago.”

“Well, the vampires with plans to take over the human race and treat us as sheep, the rogue Weres, more and more of the witches who are turning to the dark—they're the gophers. They're everywhere, and it feels more and more like a never-ending game where the odds are stacked against us,” Erin said.

“What you did tonight was not useless or futile. It wasn't wrong, either, no matter what the law might say. The legislation hasn't caught up with what we need to do to put down this threat. Until we remove the vampire conspiracy, it never will. Because they're the ones writing the laws, and anybody who disagrees conveniently disappears.” Quinn pushed another log into the fire. “We have to keep the faith, Erin.”

“I don't know. I—”

Quinn smacked her fist into her palm. “Stop! You don't have time for self-pity. I need you to be strong to find this ruby and save my sister. She's the only goodness left in my life, and if she and the baby…” She shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

Anger and resolve, in equal measures, swept through Erin and sent steel through her backbone. “I'm not feeling sorry for myself, Quinn, believe me. I don't know if you even will understand what this means, but I channeled the Wilding tonight without any backlash. The gem singing seems to have enhanced my powers enormously. Suddenly, I'm not so worried about coven law telling me not to call the Wilding, either. So why don't we figure out exactly how we're going to go about finding the Nereid's Heart in the morning.”

Quinn stared at her for a long moment, then smiled and stood up. “I knew back when you knocked the boys on their asses that I was going to like you.”

“Same goes.”

Headquarters, Circle of Light

Justice stood, sword held high, at the edge of the shield, next to Alaric. Christophe stood on the priest's other side, and the strongest of the shape-shifters spread out on either side of them. Gennae stood well back, protected by several men as she held the shield.

“Now!” Alaric snapped out the command, and the shield vanished. He, Justice, and Christophe stepped forward and the shield shimmered into existence almost immediately behind them. A couple of the vampires who'd been in the process of hurling themselves against the shield had broken through, but Justice was grimly pleased to see the shifters ripping them to shreds behind the shield.

“Shall we talk, then, Emperor?” Alaric called out.

Justice couldn't believe he'd accord the fiend the respect of the title, but it was probably a strategy move. Vamps were notoriously vain, and Alaric and Conlan nearly matched Justice's father for bold and intelligent strategy. He spat on the ground at the thought of his father, then shoved the bitter memories out of his mind and focused on the present.

Caligula floated down from the trees, with Daniel at his side.
Drakos.
Must remember to call him Drakos, or the jig was up.

“You dare much, Atlantean,” Caligula hissed. He'd put power and his thrall voice behind the words; they reverberated across the dark lawn. “Yet clearly you know who I am.”

“I know you, Germanicus. I know your cruelty, your excesses, and your insanity,” Alaric proclaimed in a voice like thunder over tempest waves. “I am the high priest of Poseidon, and your reign is nearly over.”

Caligula sneered. “I once named my horse after a priest. Incitatus at least had a jeweled necklace and a house with a golden manger. All you have is a ragtag bunch of warriors who belong in the last century.”

Alaric raised one eyebrow. “At Poseidon's grace, I wield power you cannot imagine. A horse, one would imagine, gave a self-proclaimed god such as yourself exactly what you deserved. Steaming piles of it, in fact.”

Daniel leapt at Alaric, snarling. “You dare to insult him! I will enjoy ripping your head from your neck and drinking the blood that the sea god so cherishes.”

Justice drove forward with his sword to block Daniel, but Alaric waved a hand almost casually and the vampire flew backward more than fifty feet until he crashed into a tree and fell to the ground.

“I don't have time for foolish displays of bravado by your underlings. What do you want here?” Alaric asked.

“I want the blood of humanity running freely underneath the soles of my boots,” Caligula said, baring his fangs. “I want to crush your underwater continent so that you never even think of coming back to the surface to challenge me again. I want to build floating palaces that far exceed my vessels that the humans found in Lake Nemi.” He laughed. “Do you want a detailed list? How about just one final desire? I want all of humanity to tremble at the sound of my name.”

Justice rolled his eyes. “‘Let them hate me, so long as they fear me,' right? Can't you come up with new material after nearly two thousand years?”

Caligula turned his glowing eyes toward Justice. Before Justice could look away, he was falling into the red flames, falling into the thrall of a master vampire. He heard a vast roaring noise, and suddenly Daniel was rushing up toward him and leaping on top of him, knocking Justice's sword out of his hand.

Daniel bared his fangs and turned Justice's head to the side before the fog of thrall had fully lifted. Then the vampire stuck, driving his fangs into the side of Justice's neck. Justice clenched his jaw so tightly his teeth ground together, to keep from howling at the pain of it. Daniel almost instantly withdrew his fangs, but did not lift his head.

“There's a warded opening at the top of Point Success,” Daniel whispered in his ear. “Find it and help me save your friends. Now yell, loud.”

Justice yelled, putting his lungs into it. It wasn't that difficult to do. That damn bite had
hurt
. Daniel shoved at Justice's leg to push himself up, making a show of wiping blood off his mouth.

“Something about these Atlanteans tastes better than ordinary human, don't you think?” Daniel said.

Caligula and Alaric stood in a silent face-off, both of them calling power, in different ways. Both of them unwilling to back down. Justice dragged himself up, making sure to act like he'd been drained of more blood than he could afford to lose, especially in his wounded state. He staggered a step, scanning the area for Christophe.

“He's over by the shield, Justice,” Alaric said, only a hint of strain in his voice. “I think his leg may be broken. Perhaps you would check on him.”

Justice limped off slowly, careful to stay in hearing range.

Caligula was the first to step back. “This is futile. We are equally matched, priest. Give me the witch and I'll call off the siege.”

“Which witch? As you might guess, the coven headquarters is currently housing more than a few,” Alaric replied calmly.

“Erin Connors. Give her to me and I will give you my word to leave the rest of them alone.”

“Your word means nothing, vampire. It meant nothing when you yet lived,” Alaric said. “We will give you no one.”

Christophe, who lay on the ground by the shield half propped on his elbows, started laughing. “You stupid vampire!! You spent all this time and effort to get a witch who isn't even here! She's halfway to Canada by now!”

Alaric slashed a hand toward the ground and flicked a glare at Christophe. “Silence! Tell them nothing.”

But it was too late. Caligula leapt into the air and floated over the top of the shield, staring down at it. When he was centered over the highest point of the glowing magical barrier, he floated down until he was touching it with his hands and face, then stayed there for several seconds.

Suddenly he shrieked, a sound like a demon from hell rising through the dark, and spiraled up into the air so fast Justice could barely see him move.

“To me, Drakos! She's gone, and I know exactly where she must have gone,” Caligula shouted down at them. “Point Success truly will earn its name very soon.”

Daniel cast one last glance at Justice, who nodded. Then he shot into the air to follow the insane emperor, and all of the rest of the bloodsuckers scrambled to follow.

Alaric strode over to Christophe and crouched down to put his hands over the fallen warrior's leg, which was pretty obviously broken in two different pieces. As the blue-green light flared between his hands and Christophe's legs, he said nothing. But when he was done, and Christophe stretched his now-healed leg, Alaric met Justice's gaze.

“What did he say to you?” Alaric said.

“There's a warded opening at the top of Point Success,” Justice said.

“Anything else?”

“No.” Justice started to shake his head, and then remembered that strange push against his pants. He put his hand in his pocket and drew out a crumpled piece of paper. “Directions and a crudely drawn map,” he said, holding it out for Alaric and Christophe to see.

Alaric tilted his head toward the sky again. “I was pleased with your attempted misdirection of Canada, but I would have preferred that you not give away the fact that the gem singer had gone, Christophe.”

Christophe inclined his head. “I am sorry for that. I'd hoped to send him off on a false lead.”

Alaric still stared at the sky, in the direction where the vampires had vanished. “Did you notice the direction they took?”

“South,” Justice said. “They went south.”

Gennae shouted at them, waving her arms to catch their attention. The shield shimmered and vanished. “I don't think we need this anymore, do you? But your warrior needs you, Alaric. Brennan is worse.”

Alaric nodded at the witch. “I will attend him momentarily,” he called out, then turned to the warriors. “It would appear that Erin and Ven are in more concentrated danger than we had hoped, and I am drained beyond use for much except basic healing.”

“I'm going after them,” Justice said, sheathing his sword. “Their idea of a stealth mission just got blown to the nine hells, in any event.”

“I will go, as well,” Christophe said, but he stumbled when he took his first step.

“You will stay here and continue healing,” Alaric commanded. “You are weak enough to be only a hindrance to Justice, but I have need of your skills here to help protect the coven.”

Anger flared in Christophe's eyes, but he whirled and headed for the building.

“Go now, Justice. May Poseidon be with you, that you may save Erin and Riley and the baby,” Alaric said. “Help Ven to assist the gem singer in singing the Nereid's Heart out of the stone, or the future of all Atlantis is in jeopardy.”