Atlantis Redeemed (16 page)

“I don’t wear pajamas.”

 

 

 

 

Tiernan followed Brennan into his hotel room, after he’d made sure nobody who shouldn’t have been was lying in wait. Something about these warrior types; they took their protection seriously. She was rather glad about that after the day she’d had, although Brennan himself was one of the reasons she’d needed protection in the first place. She ran a quick check for bugs again, since they’d been out of the room. Still clean. Either Litton was trusting, stupid, or too arrogant to think their conversation was important.

After she put the scanner back in the bottom of her bag, she turned to Brennan. “We need to talk. Devon may be the vampire who cornered me for the little chat earlier, but I can’t be sure. He wouldn’t admit it, unfortunately. I didn’t want to press, him, either, considering the situation.”

Brennan said nothing but just stood there, motionless, his back to her.

“Brennan? Are you communicating with Alexios again with your special Spidey senses?” When he didn’t respond, she sighed. “Look, I know full well the gravity of this situation, but I thought that maybe by keeping it light, I was helping you to keep a lid on the emotions. I can’t imagine how horrible it must be to get swamped with two thousand years of emotion all at once. I really admire you, to be honest. I think I’d go completely insane if I had to live through feeling everything that has happened to me just in the past twenty-eight years.”

He flinched as if she’d struck him, and an icy tendril of concern whispered down her spine. “If the party was too much, the dancing with a vampire and all, and you’re going to have another breakdown, please tell me now,” she said, edging back toward the door. “Because I’ve had about all I can take for one day.”

He finally turned around, moving very slowly, and raised his head until their gazes met. She gasped and backed up another step, feeling her fight-or-flight mechanism kick into full, adrenaline-charged overdrive.

“Your eyes. They’re not green anymore,” she whispered.

“What color are they?” He stood perfectly still, as if he knew that she would bolt at the first sign of motion.

She stared into his eyes, which had, impossibly, turned a midnight black. But black with a difference. “They’re . . . they’re black, with tiny blue-green centers, almost—”

“Almost?”

“Almost like flames. Like tiny, blue-green flames.”

He slowly, so slowly, raised one hand and held it out to her. “Tiernan, I need you. I need to hold you, just for a little while. The emotion—it’s smashing through me. Pounding through my body and my blood and my bones. Nothing in my life has prepared me to vanquish an enemy that lives inside of me. I can’t—I can’t hear myself through all the noise.”

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “You calm the turbulence. Does that make any sense at all?”

She nodded, almost in spite of herself. She knew, intellectually, that she didn’t need to get caught up in this Atlantean’s problems. Ancient curses, vengeful gods, and sanity-threatening emotion—it was all too fantastical. Too crazy and far, far too much on top of the very real and very dangerous mission she was on now.

She needed him, though. She needed him because he was part of her cover, and Litton and the vamps believed he was important, and . . .

She was lying to herself. She wasn’t tempted to hold him for the mission, or for the story, or even for Susannah, in whatever convoluted way that might make sense.

She wanted to hold him for herself.

“Just for a little while?” she repeated, not knowing what answer she wanted to hear: yes, a little while, or no, I will never let you go. It was impossible that she could feel such intense and complicated emotions for this man she knew almost nothing about. Truth, though.

Even to herself. Especially to herself.

She did know him, on some level that had nothing to do with reason or logic or even time itself. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, for a little while.”

He flashed across the room so quickly she never saw him move until he was gathering her into his arms, lifting her up and off the floor. Her shoes thudded to the carpet beneath her feet, and she steadied herself with her hands on his strong shoulders.

“Thank you,” he said simply, but there was nothing simple about it at all, as she could tell from the shudder that wracked his powerful body. “I could not bear it. Any of it. Watching them stare at you, the dancing . . . seeing that vampire touch you—” He broke off and bent to touch his forehead to hers, closing his eyes.

She knew what she should do. She should let him go. Let him forget her, and she would carry on by herself. The curse was torturing him. He tightened his arms around her, and her heart told her the truth she’d been fighting. She had no choice. Once he was away from her, he’d forget her and maybe the horrible emotional overload would stop or at least calm down enough for him to stay sane.

He was close to cracking, and nobody deserved that. Especially not this man. This
warrior
, who had done so much for humanity for so long.

She put her hands on his face and looked into his incredibly beautiful black and flame-centered eyes. “Brennan. You have to go. It’s too hard, and I can’t—I can’t watch the pain of all of this drive you out of your mind. I can do this on my own.”

He turned his head and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm. “No,” he said gently. “I will not leave you. We will work together to discover the truth behind these scientists and their plots, and then I will release you.”

“Release me?” She knew she should move away from him, but she didn’t want to stop touching him. Leaning into his warmth. Breathing in his spicy male scent.

“You do not need to be drawn into my problems,” he said, his eyes and voice both going flat and cold. As she watched, fascinated, the black faded from his irises until they were a pure, pale spring green, and she was forced to wonder how many of his problems centered around her.

Brennan clenched his hands into fists at his sides and battled the most powerful enemy he’d ever faced: himself. Emotion buffeted him as if he were a storm-tossed ship at sea, and every molecule of his body was screaming at him to take her,
take her
, strip her bare, and make her his.

Discipline. He needed—he must—he would. He would be calm, he would be rational, and most of all, he would be the man she needed and not the man who needed her. Not now. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

“This Devon may be playing a deep game, toying with us, although I do not discount the possibility that he wanted to dance with you simply because you were the most beautiful woman in the room,” he said, steeling himself against the surge of desire that made his cock jump in his pants every time she blushed.

As anticipated, her cheeks took on a particularly appealing rosy hue. “I don’t think—Well, thank you. But vampires rarely do anything for simple reasons, especially powerful ones like this Devon.” She sat on the edge of the bed and began selecting clothes from her bag, then snapped her fingers. “Wait, I almost forgot. Devon said to say hello to you from him. Have you met him?”

“I have never met any vampire named Devon, although I admit I probably wouldn’t have recognized him if I had known him, in that crowd and with those glasses on.” Brennan frowned, considering possibilities. “Unfortunately, the first thing that comes to mind is that I may have slain one of his blood pride, and he’s out for revenge. That has been very common over the centuries.”

She sighed. “It’s kind of surreal the way you casually throw out things like ‘over the centuries.’ When this is all over, can we have a really long talk about all of the wonders you’ve seen and experienced in your lifetime?”

He froze, realizing the implication in her words, even if she had not intended them. That there would be an “after” for them. That she would want to spend time with him.

That he could nurture the tiniest bit of hope.

“I would love nothing more,” he said.

She tilted her head. “That was a lie. Not a big one, but something . . . something was untrue in what you just said.”

He considered his words and then, startled, laughed, and that bit of joy opened the floodgates to a darker, hungrier emotion. “You are not an easy woman to be around, are you, Truth Teller? You catch even the palest shades of falsehood in otherwise truthful statements. No, it is not entirely true. But the truth encompasses my desire for you and seemed a bit aggressive for such short acquaintance. There is much more I would love to do with you than talk.”

Her eyes darkened, and she drew in a slightly ragged breath, giving him hope that she was not unaffected by him. It was too soon, though, and they had much to do before they explored this passion that flared so brightly between them.

“Let’s leave desire to the side for now, okay? Anyway, you just summed up my entire life, Brennan. Nobody ever found me easy to be around, including my own family. Sorry I bother you, too.”

He could tell that he had hurt her with his careless words, and the pain of it seared through him, but he was unused to feelings and their aftermath and had no idea how to undo what he had said. He wanted to understand, though, so he could better know her.

“Tell me what it’s like. You have a Gift that was long ago lost to Atlanteans. We call those who can hear and feel the resonance of truth and deception ‘truth tellers.’ They were much revered in our society, or so the ancient tales go, but too often—” He stopped, cursing his stupid tongue.

“Too often what?”

“It is nothing. We should go to find Lucas and Alexios.”

“Tell me,” she demanded. “Too often they went crazy? Too often everybody hated them? Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think it’s easy to hear every lie, no matter how small or insignificant? Yes, it’s a very helpful talent when I’m investigating a story. But the rest of the time?
Ha
. Society can’t survive without polite little deceptions. White lies. ‘Yes, you’re still as lovely as the day I married you.’ ‘Great try hitting that ball, little Junior.’ ‘Sure, I’d love to go to the hockey game with you, honey.’” She put her head in her hands. “I always know. When my date thinks I’m not as cute as his last girlfriend, or my boss thinks my writing is crap, or my dad is having an affair with the babysitter. I always know.” When she looked up at him, tears glittered in her lashes and they were like daggers to his heart. “And you know what? I hate every minute of it. I’d give anything to
not
know. Just for a day, or a week, or heck, even an hour. I’d love to
not know
.”

“Please forgive me.” Brennan dropped to a crouch in front of her and put his hands on either side of her knees on the bed. “I am a thoughtless fool. I will try harder. Please do not cry. I cannot bear it, and I am afraid I will thoroughly unman myself by crying, too.”

She smiled a little. “Men can cry, too, in this century.”

“Not me. If I start, I am afraid I would cry for at least ten days, or even thrice that. You will be forced to call the front desk and ask for buckets to catch the tears and I will flood the park,” he said, deliberately widening his eyes in an expression of exaggerated solemnity, in hopes of making her laugh. “Next the television person will be reporting on bison caught in the flood, being forced to swim for safety.”

Tiernan laughed out loud. “Okay, you win. I’ll quit feeling sorry for myself, but only for the sake of the buffalo.”

He leaned forward and kissed each of her eyelids in turn, tasting the salt of her tears and imprinting her onto his soul like a branding. “You are a courageous and selfless woman, Tiernan Butler. Now let’s go find Alexios and figure out our plan.”

He stood up, pulling her with him. “We should change clothes before we meet Alexios and the others. I will turn my back, if that will suffice?”

She shook her head. “I need the other room again. I’ll be quick.” She handed him her phone and dashed off, and he put the phone on the desk and stared intently at her picture while he quickly changed out of the tuxedo. This time, he did not feel her fading in his mind as quickly as before, but the haze still began after only a few short minutes.

“Tiernan? I need to see you,” he finally called out, hating his own helplessness.

She flung the door open and stepped out, as beautiful as ever but more covered up in a dark green sweater, jeans, and boots. “I’m here. You know, you really need to petition Poseidon about this.”

“I will,” he said grimly. “Alaric, our high priest, will surely help me find a way to talk to the sea god. Although I know of no instance, ever, in which Poseidon revoked a curse, once given.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to try, right? If he says no, you’re no worse off than you are now. Maybe . . . maybe I could talk to him for you?”

“You would offer to go before the sea god himself to plead my case?” Brennan felt her sincerity like a body blow, smashing yet another layer of his defenses. She would face Poseidon. For him.