by Alyssa Day
“We have to set an example, don’t we, my dear?” she murmured, voice almost gentle. Then she curled her hand into a claw and it shot out toward Barrabas’s groin.
A tortured shriek beyond any Conlan had ever heard since leaving her lair ricocheted through the room, and he watched in utter horror as she opened her fingers to show Barrabas the bloody spectacle of his own balls in her hand.
“Yes,” she repeated, delicately sucking the meat out of her hand. “We have to set an example.”
As Barrabas fell over, still screaming, her hand shot forward again.
This time, she came back with his heart.
Barrabas never uttered another sound.
Riley felt consciousness coming back to her in ripples, as muted waves of sound and light washed into her mind. Conlan’s horror, unshielded, nearly made her vomit, but some instinct told her to play dead.
She damn near was, if the pain crashing through her head was any clue.
She opened her heart and her mind, opened her soul, and begged for help.
I believe. I came to you in defiance before, now I come to you in abject humility, Poseidon. You are the sea god. You have power over these, your subjects.
Utter silence flooded her brain. She’d failed.
She traded humility for defiance.
Will you really let this bitch win the day?
Still silence. Hopelessness devastated her. If even the god who’d marked her deserted her, what hope did she have against the goddess of death?
THERE IS ALWAYS HOPE, DISRESPECTFUL ONE. ABJECT HUMILITY? MORE LIKE A PETULANT CHILD.
She nearly shuddered in relief, remembering at the last second to remain perfectly still.
Tell me what to do, your royal seaworthiness, and I’m your woman.
I THINK NOT. YOU ARE CONLAN’S WOMAN, AND A FINE QUEEN YOU’LL MAKE. YOU MAY MAKE USE OF MY TRIDENT ONE LAST TIME, GREAT-GRANDDAUGHTER OF MY SEED. USE IT WELL.
With that, his thundering presence was gone from her mind. But something hard and sharp was poking her in the butt.
Guess you’ve got a sense of humor after all. And thanks.
She felt the unmistakable shape of the Trident warming beneath her bent and broken body, filling her with heat and light and healing. With a single, silent blast, every injury was repaired, and she was filled with a sense of enormous power.
The mark on her shoulder burned, reminding her of her duty.
Oh, it will be my pleasure.
With one smooth motion, she grasped the shaft of the Trident and jumped to her feet. “Hey, bitch! Wanna play?”
Anubisa, hand full of some disgustingly bloody-looking thing, swung her attention to Riley, hissing. Conlan stood in the center of the room, muscles quivering, clearly unable to move.
“You’re not dead yet, little whore? And you think to play with the toys of the gods? Oh, please. This might be fun,” Anubisa said, voice purring with smug superiority.
Riley took a deep breath and pointed the Trident at her. “Hell, I don’t even know how to work this thing, but let’s go with modified light-saber,” she muttered.
Then she screamed out her own defiance. “Take this, you evil, ugly, bloodsucking fiend!”
And she called on the power with everything in her. Now! Now! Let’s take her down, now!
The Trident sang with a sweet, clear sound of soaring power, and it vibrated in her hands. As Anubisa’s expression changed from a sneer to shocked surprise, a silvery torrent of pure energy shot out of the point of the Trident and arrowed directly into the vampire goddess, blasting her off her feet.
The shock wave of power spread through the room, and Conlan broke free of whatever magic had held him and ran to Riley. “You’re alive! Thank the gods, aknasha.”
He grasped the shaft of the Trident with his hands over Riley’s and they aimed it at Anubisa again, as she tried to stand up.
“Die, you foul hell spawn!” Conlan roared.
“Stay away from my boyfriend!” Riley yelled.
This time, the powerful surge of energy shot into Anubisa and lifted her up into the air, smashing her into the ceiling and holding her there. Her head fell back and her mouth opened, and the energy poured through her mouth and nose and eyes, and then—with a thunderclap of sound—she disintegrated.
The stream of energy shut off like a faucet, and Riley and Conlan fell against each other. He put his hands on her face, turning it back and forth. “You’re not hurt? How are you not hurt? I saw—”
“Poseidon. He healed me with the Trident,” she said, laughing and sobbing at the same time.
They both thought it at the same time. “The others!”
They ran to Alaric and Quinn first, and Riley dropped to her knees next to her sister, crying harder at the sight of Quinn lying in such a huge pool of blood. Conlan yanked the sword out of their bodies, then knelt beside Riley, putting his hands over hers on the Trident again.
They both focused, channeled the power again. Watched as the healing silvery-green light spread over Alaric and Quinn. Saw the color come back to their faces. Heard the gasps of air sucked into their lungs.
Quinn opened her eyes. “Riley?”
“You’re going to be fine, Quinn. Everybody is going to be fine.”
Chapter 39
Conlan and Riley blinked at the light as they walked out of the door and into the bright sunshine. Quinn and Alaric, Jack, back in human form, and the rest of the Seven and the shapeshifters followed them into the bright noontime sun. Reisen came last, cradling his wounded arm, with Micah. The Trident had healed him, but Poseidon had not gifted him with the return of his hand.
The sea god’s vengeance would be served its pound of flesh.
The band crossed the street and walked, content to be alive and free, down the sidewalk to where it bordered a tree-lined park. A fountain sparkled in the chill autumn air.
“So this is good-bye, Atlantean,” Jack said.
Conlan, arm tight around Riley’s waist, shook his head. “No, I have a feeling that we’ll be seeing more of each other. This fight is far from over.”
Jack grinned, saluted, and strode off, melting into the trees with the rest of the freedom fighters.
Quinn remained behind, still clutching her sister’s hand. “What will you do now, Riley? Want a job? You’re pretty handy to have around in a fight.”
Riley smiled, but then looked up at Conlan, her gaze troubled. “I don’t know, actually. We have kind of a problem. Conlan can’t date a human without the world ending, and I’m kind of opposed to destroying all of humanity, Atlantis, and the shape-shifters in one fell swoop.”
Ven laughed. “Hell, I never thought I’d say this, but one of those bloodsuckers wasn’t all that bad. I never thought I’d see Drakos turn on Barrabas.”
“Who’s Drakos?” Quinn asked.
“You call him Daniel,” Conlan replied absently, gaze fixed on Riley. “And he disappeared after the battle, though he gave no quarter during it. I think we will have to learn more of this Daniel.”
Conlan pulled Riley into his arms and, right there in the park, in front of his men, Quinn, and half of D.C., he kissed Riley with all the passion inside him. All of the terror, all of the relief. Then, still holding her in his arms, he sought out the priest.
“Alaric. I choose her. Over my duty, over my kingship, and even over my life. Begin the ritual of divestiture—aid me to renounce the throne and gain my future.”
He grinned at his brother. “Ven will make a wonderful king.”
“Oh, hell, no,” Ven said, backing away.
Alaric opened his mouth to answer, but the voice of the sea god issued forth instead. Pure power blazed out of the priest’s eyes.
“YOU WILL NOT RENOUNCE THE THRONE, CONLAN OF ATLANTIS.”
Conlan prepared to defy his god. “Wanna bet?”
“YOU WILL NOT RENOUNCE THE THRONE,” the voice thundered, shaking the ground they stood on.
“YOU WILL MAKE THIS FEMALE WHO BEARS MY MAR
K YOUR QUEEN. I COMMAND IT. YOUR CHILD WHOM SHE CARRIES IN HER WOMB WILL RISE TO BE A KING LIKE THE WORLD HAS NEVER BEFORE SEEN.”
Conlan’s mouth fell open. He looked down at Riley, who was also gaping in shock.
“BETWEEN THE TWO OF YOU, THERE IS ENOUGH DEFIANCE TO RULE THE WORLD. AS THE GOD OF ATLANTIS, I WOULD HOPE YOU WOULD TEACH YOUR SON SOME RESPECT FOR MY AUTHORITY.”
Alaric’s mouth snapped shut, and he fell against Quinn, who put her arms around his waist to support him. “What the hell was that?” she asked.
“Oh, that was nobody of the nine hells,” Riley answered, grinning. “That was Poseidon, and I guess we have his okay.”
Conlan swept her up in his arms and swung her around and around, whooping with joy. “My lady, my wife, my queen. What more could I ask?”
When he put her down, she folded her arms. “I don’t know, but there’s a lot more that I could ask.”
He felt his heart shrivel inside him. “What are you saying?”
She smiled at him, eyes sparkling. Her heart shone fiercely with the love that she sent flowing out to him. To all of them, he guessed, when he heard the startled gasps of his warriors. “I could ask for an actual proposal, for starters.”
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Dropped to one knee. “I, Conlan, high prince and heir to the throne of the Seven Isles of Atlantis, do ask you, Riley Elisabeth Dawson, owner of my heart and soul and body, to be my lady wife and queen. Do you accept me?”
She put her hands out to him. Pulled him up to stand in front of her. “I accept with all of my heart, Conlan. I will love you until the end of time.”
Even as he caught her lips with his own, Conlan heard his brother’s relieved words.
“Whew! Dodged that bullet!”
Conlan kissed Riley with all the joy in his heart, until he even imagined he heard the music of rushing water dancing around them.
Then it splashed on his face.
Lifting his head, he saw the water in the pond shoot into the air in a firework of sparkling color, splashing a mist of droplets onto all of them. The wind whipped the airborne water into streams of beautiful shapes and phantom images. The earth joined in, trembling under their feet.
Alaric spoke in his own voice, holding the Trident up in the air. “My prince, Poseidon has decreed that you have found your true queen. Hail to King Conlan and Queen Riley.”
As one, the Seven all knelt, holding daggers and swords up in the air and shouting. “Hail to King Conlan and Queen Riley.”
Reisen and Micah were on their knees as fast as the rest. The face Reisen raised to Conlan was somber with devotion and apology. Conlan nodded. Healing would come faster with forgiveness than punishment.
Quinn laughed and hugged Riley and Conlan both. “You’d better invite me to the wedding, is all I have to say.”
She put a hand on Riley’s stomach. “Do you think it’s true? That you’re pregnant?”
Wonder swept through Riley’s emotions, and she looked down at her sister’s hand on her belly. “Oh, my God! Or, oh, sea god! I guess he might know what he’s talking about.”
Conlan held his hand out to Quinn, pulled her close to himself and Riley. “You will never fight alone again, my new sister.”
He looked to Alaric and Ven, saw the grim determination side by side with their joy. “War is coming, and it is time to fulfill our sacred duty to protect mankind.”
Conlan looked around at his brother, his new family, his priest, and his men. “Atlantis must rise.”
Turn the page for a special preview
of the next book in the
Warriors of Poseidon series
ATLANTIS AWAKENING
by Alyssa Day.
Coming in November 2007 from Berkley Sensation!
Ven wanted to smash something. Bad. Preferably the face of the jerk he’d been supposed to meet forty-five minutes ago.
He scanned the losers slouching on the barstools of the dive where they’d set up the meet. Professional drinkers, all. Professional losers. Although who else hung out in a place like this at midnight on a Tuesday night? Stale beer and desperation hung in the air in a foul cloud.
Well, losers except for one highly pissed off Atlantean warrior. Prince, even. Second in line to the throne, at least until Conlan and Riley started popping out babies. Which had better be soon, because no way did Ven ever want that little obligation. King of the Seven Isles of Atlantis.
He shuddered, downed his beer at the thought. Nope. He was much better as head of the warrior training academy. The King’s Vengeance, whose sworn duty it was to protect his brother, the king.
Ven was the ultimate warrior. Feared by all.
He glanced up at the cracked face of the Budweiser clock on the wall. Except, of course, by the asshole he was supposed to be meeting to discuss a human-Atlantean alliance. The asshole who was now fifty-two minutes late.
The squeak of the hinges on the bar’s door alerted him, and he looked up into the mirror behind the bar, gaze trained on the person walking in.
His eyes widened, and then narrowed in appreciation. If he had to waste time waiting for the jerk Quinn had sent, at least now he had something worth looking at. All curves and attitude in a small package, the blonde came striding into the place as if she owned it.
High-heeled leather boots worn under snug jeans, hips he’d love to get his hands on, and a tight-fitting black leather jacket. Oh, yeah. She was exactly his type of woman.
And he must have been dreaming, because she walked right past the lowlife scum who were drooling at the sight of her and stopped in front of him.
Ven was used to the reactions of human women to him. Hell, after several centuries, he knew that they considered him attractive. Not a lot of six-foot-seven-inch muscled warrior types running around with human DNA these days.
This one flicked her icy-blue gaze down, then up him and curled her lips back a little. He’d looked at steaming piles of peacock shit on the palace grounds with more enthusiasm.
“So,” she drawled, disgust dripping from her voice. “You’re the pride of Atlantis?”
She stalked around him and leaned back on the vacant barstool on his left, glanced his way again.
Then she rolled her freaking eyes.
Ven had seen and heard way more than enough. He rose to his full height, which gave him more than a foot on her, and stared down his nose. “You’re late.”
Okay, that was lame. Sadly, it was all he could think of, considering his brain cells had gone south at the sight of the creamy cleavage nestled in the gap between the lapels of her jacket and some lacy thing she wore underneath it.
For some reason, he wanted to lick it.
And her.
Oh, boy, she was trouble with a capital bitch.
“Make that a capital W, warrior,” she said. “And you can sit down now and leave your Intimidation 101 tactics for somebody who is impressed with them.”
He sat down, feeling like a damn fool, gaping at her. “Capital W? How did you-”
She smiled slowly, sensual lips curving over a gorgeous set of teeth. God, even her teeth turned him on. Suddenly he was a horny fucking dentist.
He shifted on the stool, hoping she hadn’t noticed the sudden bulge in his leather pants.
“Capital W is for witch, warrior,” she said. “Welcome to the revolution.”
GLOSSARY OF TERMS
Aknasha—empath; one who can feel the emotions of others and, usually, send her own emotions into the minds and hearts of others, as well. There have been no aknasha’an in the recorded history of Atlantis for more than ten thousand years.
Atlanteans—a race separate from humans, descended directly from a mating between Poseidon and one of the Nereids, whose name is lost in time. Atlanteans inherited some of the gifts of their ancestors: the ability to control all elements except fire—especially water; the ability to transform to mist and travel in that manner; and superhuman strength and agility. Ancient scrolls hint at other powers, as
well, but these are either lost to the passage of time or dormant in present-day Atlanteans.
Atlantis—the Seven Isles of Atlantis were driven beneath the sea during a mighty cataclysm of earthquakes and volcanic activity that shifted the tectonic plates of the Earth more than eleven thousand years ago. The ruling prince of the largest isle, also called Atlantis, ascends to serve as high king to all seven isles, though each are ruled by the lords of the individual isle’s ruling house.
Blood pride—a master vampire’s created vampires.
Landwalkers—Atlantean term for humans.
The Seven—the elite guard of the high prince or king of Atlantis. Many of the rulers of the other six isles have formed their own guard of seven in imitation of this tradition.
Shape-shifters—a species who started off as humans, but were cursed to transform into animals each full moon. Many shape-shifters can control the change during other times of the month, but newly initiated shape-shifters cannot. Shape-shifters have superhuman strength and speed and can live for more than three hundred years, if not injured or killed. They have a longstanding blood feud against the vampires, but old alliances and enemies are shifting.
Thought-mining—the Atlantean ability, long lost, to sift through another’s mind and memories to gather information.
Vampires—an ancient race descended from the incestuous mating of the god Chaos and his daughter, Anubisa, goddess of the night. They are voracious for political intrigue and the amassing of power and are extremely long-lived. Vampires have the ability to dematerialize and teleport themselves long distances, but not over large bodies of water.
Warriors of Poseidon—warriors sworn to the service of Poseidon and the protection of humanity. They all bear Poseidon’s mark on their bodies.