by Alyssa Day
“He is quite shockingly bald,” Justice said, brow furrowed. “Is that a problem? Is there some—”
The women started laughing again, cutting off whatever Justice had been about to say. “Most babies are born bald or with only a little fuzz. His hair will start growing soon enough,” Marie said.
“Not all babies,” Keely said, catching the end of Justice’s long blue braid in her hand. “Some have a lovely crop of bright blue hair.”
“Well, Aidan will have beautiful black hair like his father,” Riley said, leaning back against Conlan.
“Or beautiful sunset-gold hair like his mother,” Conlan replied.
“I know you’re my prince and all, but if you’re going to start reciting poetry about her eyes, I’m out of here,” Alexios said, pulling an exaggerated grimace. “There’s only so much a self-respecting warrior can take.”
Conlan burst out laughing, and Riley’s lips curved in a tiny, secret smile. “Okay, that does it. Uncle Alexios is holding the baby next.”
Alexios held up his hands in protest. “Oh, no. I don’t know anything about holding babies.” He ducked behind Marie as if to hide.
“I only wish my brother could have been here,” Marie said, shaking her head and smiling. “He, Ethan, and Kat are in the middle of land negotiations with the state of Florida over increasing the panther territory, though, and it would have been a breach of courtesy to leave now.”
Alexios still couldn’t believe Marie had fallen in love with a panther shifter on her very first trip out of Atlantis, but the changes to the old ways were coming quickly and furiously. Little Prince Aidan was living proof of that.
Riley waved an arm toward the masses of flowers lining one entire wall of the room. “I know. Bastien and Kat sent at least a dozen different flower arrangements and enough baby toys to supply half of Atlantis, I think. Aidan will be hopelessly spoiled, if I let all of you have free rein.”
Justice, still staring down at Aidan as if entranced, smiled. “Oh, Riley. You have no idea.” Then he pinned Keely with a searing glance. “We must have a baby. Now. He will keep Eleni company.”
Keely, still kneeling, fell backward and landed on her bottom with a thump. “Wait. What? Baby? What?”
“Give the nice archaeologist time to get used to your ugly face, first,” Alexios advised, still safely behind Marie, earning himself a dirty look from Justice and a smile filled with grateful relief from Keely.
“Maybe we should focus on your nephew for a while,” Keely said to Justice.
Alexios figured he’d bail out his friend and change the subject. Looking around, he realized who was missing. “Where’s Quinn?” Alexios asked, surprised that Riley’s sister wasn’t present for her nephew’s birth.
A shadow crossed Riley’s face, and she shook her head. “I don’t know. She didn’t check in on time from her latest mission. Part of me wishes she was a little less rebel leader and a little more safe and out of danger.” Her troubled gaze found Alaric. “Is she—is she okay?”
The priest closed his eyes for a moment, and then inclined his head. “She is well and in very little danger at the present.”
They had a special link, Quinn and Alaric, that none of the rest of them really understood, and nobody wanted to be the first to try to pry into Alaric’s personal life. The possibility of ending up as a dark splotch on the marble floor of the palace loomed large when you irritated Alaric.
Riley sighed in obvious relief, but then suddenly looked up and scanned the room. “I know Christophe ran off, but where is Denal?”
Alexios looked around. He hadn’t noticed Christophe leave. Then he shot a glance at Alaric, willing him to be silent. “He got himself a little messy, so he wanted to get cleaned up. I’m sure he’ll be along soon.”
Riley furrowed her brow and Alexios dreaded the next question, but luckily the baby started to make tiny whimpering sounds, restlessly turning his head back and forth. Justice blinked and thrust the baby back at Riley.
“Uh-huh. From the look on your face at the first hint of a whimper, I’m guessing we don’t need to talk about babies for a while,” Keely said.
Justice apparently thought better of any public protest, so he just took Keely’s hand and they stood and moved back from the bed. Riley cuddled Aidan close for a moment then looked up and around the room at all of them.
“Thank you all, so much, for everything you have done for me and for our baby. We wouldn’t . . . we wouldn’t have survived without your sacrifices on our behalf.” She had to stop to compose herself, and then she continued. “We love you all, and as aknasha I can feel the depth of emotion from each and every one of you and how much you love us in return. We are so lucky that you are all part of our family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
By the end of her speech, the room was completely silent, until a loud and very demanding wail startled them all. Laughing a little, not knowing what to do with the unfamiliar emotion threatening to choke him, Alexios fell back on tradition and ceremony. “All hail Prince Aidan! All hail the heir to Atlantis!”
The room resounded with the shouted replies. “Prince Aidan! Prince Aidan! Prince Aidan!”
Finally, Conlan held up a hand for silence. “Thank you, but my son is very determined that he have his first meal now, so if you’ll all excuse us, we’re going to let Riley and baby have some much-deserved rest.”
Alexios bowed to his friend and comrade the high prince and then turned and ushered the others out of the room. “The ale is quite definitely on me, my friends!”
“Speaking of ale, where is Christophe?” Brennan asked.
“He said that babies make him nervous,” Alaric said dryly. “I suspect we’ll find him already ensconced with a mug or five of the palace’s best brew.”
Laughing and chattering, everyone headed for the dining hall to properly celebrate. Alexios hung back to talk to Alaric.
“It’s a truly grand day, isn’t it?”
“Grand, perhaps, but not yet without danger,” Alaric said, his eyes narrowing. “Not all Atlanteans welcome so many changes to the old ways.”
“What does it mean, Alaric? The first human-Atlantean prince? What does it mean for tradition and for Atlantis?” Alexios generally tried to stay out of politics, but if something threatened the newborn heir, he intended to be prepared.
“I don’t know yet. Poseidon himself approved the match and granted his blessing on the child, so there is no basis for denying him his heritage. But zealots don’t always need reasons. We simply need to be ready for them.”
“Oh, yes,” Alexios said, hands twitching toward the daggers that weren’t yet back in their sheaths. “We will be ready.”
Fort Castillo de San Marcos, St. Augustine, Florida
Even after the sudden thunderstorm struck, Grace continued to pace the long parapets that bordered the top of the fort for nearly an hour in the driving rain. Sometimes walking, sometimes running. Leaping over the gaps. Gazing out at the ocean as if she could see all the way down through the waters to wherever Atlantis continued to hide from the rest of the world.
She paced, trying to outdistance her thoughts and escape the crushing waves of despair that weren’t even her own.
It was all wrong. She never formed mental bonds like this—not like this. Not with someone she barely knew.
Never before with a man. The memory of their last moment together before he’d disappeared—that kiss—burned across her mind like a wild lightning bolt riding tumultuous clouds.
It shook her up, tossing her nerves into a tempest to match the surf that the winter storm sent slashing toward the shore.
“It won’t help, you know.”
The deep voice came from nowhere and the shock of it nearly sent her flying over the edge. A strong hand shot out and caught her arm, jerking her back and away from a thirty-five-foot drop.
She tried to wrench her arm free, whirling around with a high kick to smash the intruder’s face, but he blocked her kick
and lifted her into his arms as easily as if she were a child, smiling down at her. The moonlight shadowed the distinctive bronze hair to black, but there was no way she’d ever mistake that face, even with water dripping from his drenched hair.
Very, very few men could subdue her so easily. But then again, he was a seasoned and powerful warrior, and one of the last of the race of weretigers. More than two hundred fifty pounds of muscle in human form and twice that as a big cat.
“I know it’s been a while, Grace, but that’s no way to say hello to an old friend,” he said, laughing a little. “Also, that old saying about not having enough sense to come in out of the rain comes to mind.”
“Jack! I thought you and Quinn were on a mission somewhere in—”
Something in the way he narrowed his eyes stopped her from continuing. “Sorry. It’s just—”
He lowered her to her feet and gave her a brief hug. “No details. Not here, Grace. Not out in the open.”
Walking to the barrier she’d nearly tumbled over, he stared out at the sea. “I need to join Quinn, but I can’t tell even you any more about it. We have a lead we think is important regarding the . . . object we . . . lost . . . back in St. Louis.”
She nodded. Vonos had stolen the gem the Atlanteans called the Vampire’s Bane: a rare yellow diamond that reportedly had the power to kill other vampires without harming the one who wielded it. Vonos already had way too much power as Primator. Now that he possessed a weapon of mass destruction that could kill his own kind, the heavyweight threat was very effectively making him many, many alliances with vamps who’d rather join up than die.
“It may be here?” Vonos quite famously owned a winter home in Florida near Daytona Beach; Undead People magazine had done a cover spread on “The Primator at Home.” She’d seen it at the checkout stand at the grocery store and promptly lost her appetite.
Jack nodded, a muscle clenching in his jaw. “Apparently it’s some vamp macho thing to have a home in the sunniest place around. Shows you’re tougher than all the other bloodsuckers.”
“Would he keep it here, though? Wouldn’t the Primus be safer? I heard that the place is a fortress.”
He turned his face up to the rain, closing his eyes, for a moment, and then turned back to her, tension evident in the way he held his head and body. “It is. I hear they’ve beefed up security, too, after we broke in.”
Grace blinked. “You broke into the Primus? What? With all those vamps? I heard it’s like the undead Fort Knox.”
He shrugged. “You heard right. But we had a few advantages. Ask Quinn to tell you about it sometime.” But as soon as he said it, his mouth tightened and he shook his head. “On second thought, never mind.”
“Come inside, at least,” she urged. “Let’s find dry clothes, make coffee, and talk. There are only a few of us here until the new group of recruits shows up in the morning.”
“I can’t. There’s no time. I only came to give you a message, so here it is: you can’t trust anything the Fae tell you.”
She tilted her head, studying his face, but his expression gave nothing away. “The Fae can’t lie. You know that.”
“The Fae are masters at telling the truth without telling the truth, and you know that. Masters of misdirection and manipulation.”
She nodded slowly. “Of course I know that. I just find it interesting that the same night I had a visit from a high prince of the High House, Seelie Court, you show up to warn me about the Fae.”
Interest sharpened his face. “Already? Rhys was here?”
“Not here. At the beach where I swim.”
He gave her a quick once-over and grinned. “Naked?”
He’d surprised a laugh out of her. It was rusty, like her sense of humor. “No, not naked, you perv.”
“Hey! You’ve got to watch out for those elves. The whole lot of them are horny, untrustworthy bastards.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you just describe most men?”
Jack clutched his heart. “Ouch. Point and match.” But his teasing smile faded and he put a hand on her arm. “Watch out for the Fae. Tell Alexios about it—everything, don’t leave anything out—and whatever you do, be careful.”
“I’m always careful, tiger,” she said, letting a little of the arrogance and power of her birthright flow into her words and stance. “I am a descendant of Diana.”
“Yeah. I know,” he said flatly, clearly unimpressed. “But your bow’s wood is made from their glades. I’m a quarter ton of one of the most powerful predators to walk the face of the earth, and even I’m careful around the Fae. Just do it. For me, and for Quinn, if not for yourself.”
She studied him for several seconds and then slowly nodded. “I will. But you be careful, do you hear me? And take care of Quinn, too.”
“Always.” He hugged her again and then hopped up on the parapet and leapt gracefully over the side before she could scream. She ran to the edge, heart in her throat, expecting to see him huddled and broken at the bottom of the wall. Instead, she caught a glimpse of an orange-and-white shape bounding off into the dark.
“Great. Just what the tourists need to see—a giant tiger roaming through the city,” she muttered as she finally headed for the stairs, dry clothes, and a mug of hot tea. “I wonder if we can blame it on escaped circus animals again.”
Later, after a hot shower in the temporary facilities set up in a corner of the courtyard, she took a mug of hot, sweet tea with her to bed and wrapped herself in blankets. One the few perks of being in charge: at least she didn’t have to share a room. Hers was part of the old officer’s quarters. The rest of them were bunking two or more to a room, and the recruits would be sleeping dormitory-style in the old guardrooms where Spanish troops had first slept more than three hundred years before.
Warm and dry, Grace continued to puzzle and poke at the possible meanings and implications of the two extremely odd conversations she’d had that night. Finally, she turned off her lamp, no closer to any answers but content to lie in the dark and listen to the rain and the waves crashing against the shore.
“Ten years, Robbie,” she whispered into the dark. “I know it’s taken me ten years, but I’m finally getting closer to making a difference. I love you, Big Brother. Happy birthday.”
Chapter 6
Atlantis, the war room, the next morning
Alexios shoved his chair back and leapt up from the table. Not even a half dozen mugs of the finest Atlantean ale had kept him from dreaming about Grace, or from thrashing around in the sheets all night long until he’d woken up this morning hard and aching for her.
Now he had to deal with this?
“No. No way, no how. You can get somebody else to wipe runny noses for your baby rebels. I’ve had enough of humans for a while,” he said, the words coming out almost in a snarl.
Ven leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “You wanna run that by me again? I must not have had enough coffee yet, because I could have sworn I got up out of my very warm bed and left my very warm woman to come down here and give you your marching orders, and you just told me no.”
He made a show of rubbing his eyes. “Or wait—maybe I’m still dreaming,” he said, then squinted up at Alexios. “Nah, not with that face. More like a nightmare.”
Ven was the only one who’d ever come right out and teased him about his scarred face, but Ven teased everyone about everything. It almost made Alexios feel . . . normal.
“I’m sorry. Maybe I didn’t put that very well, Your Highness,” Alexios gritted out. “I would prefer not to be assigned to the training fort in St. Augustine with Gr . . . with those humans.”
“You call me ‘your highness’ again, and I’ll kick your ass,” Ven said, but without any heat, as he studied Alexios’s face far more closely than was comfortable. “What is this really about? I heard nothing but raves for this commander from Quinn. Grace, what was it, Hanson?”
“Havilland,” he corrected automatically. Too aut
omatically, if the aha gleam in Ven’s eyes meant anything.
“Is there a problem between you and this woman?”
Alexios stopped pacing and raised his chin. “There is no problem. I would just rather you assign someone else. Somebody needs to go to Europe and find out what’s going on with this vampire claiming to be the long-lost Princess Anastasia. I’ll volunteer.”
“Erin and I are going. She has some idea about tracking down other gem singers in a part of Switzerland that used to be a Fae stronghold while we’re there,” Ven said, shaking his head. “I’m still not quite sure how I wind up saying yes to everything she wants.”
“Hard to argue with a woman who stopped a bomb from blowing up your thick skull,” Alexios said dryly.