by Alyssa Day
“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.”
Chapter 25
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. H
e, 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.”
Before Justice could move, Alaric caught his shoulder in a firm grip and heat seared through his body. The priest’s eyes flared brightly, then dimmed back to their normal green, and Justice felt a renewed surge of energy pour through him and a lessening of the pain from his head and the dagger slice across his chest. He clasped Alaric’s arm in a gesture of thanks and farewell, and then he shimmered into mist and shot into the sky, following the trail left by the vamps.
The future of all Atlantis is resting on my shoulders, after all these centuries of anonymity, he thought, as he soared over the treetops.
We’re all doomed.
Chapter 26
The cabin
Ven waited until Jack and Quinn headed outside to patrol the perimeter, and then he took the untouched plate of food out of Erin’s hands. “We’ll pack this out with us in one of those sturdy plastic bags on the shelf,” he said. “Definitely no littering in a national park.”
“Are you really worrying about litter?” Erin asked tiredly. “We may not even survive this. Who’ll carry the plastic bag out then?”
“What we need to focus on right now is rest. You must have drained your energy going up against Lillian.”
She shook her head, and the firelight kissed golden highlights in her blond curls, making him want to touch her hair. Touch every part of her.
“No. I didn’t,” she denied. “I channeled the Wilding, and for the first time, ever, I didn’t have any backlash from it. I’m not sure whether to be glad or afraid.”
He sat down next to her and took her hand, needing some form of contact. Needing to touch her skin, even in such a small way. “Tell me. Tell me about the Wilding, and why it’s forbidden. I don’t understand why you’re not making use of every means of magic at your disposal to defend yourself.”