took the measure of the man kneeling in front of her. He was the polar opposite to Brennan—Denal was all flashing emotion and eager notions of honor, duty, and chivalry.
She smiled a little, wondering if she'd ever been so very young. Then the smile faded, as she realized that he might in fact be a
This Atlantean stuff was complicated.
But he was still kneeling, still waiting. The sense of anticipation was thick in the room. As she looked around the room, she realized every one of them was waiting to see how she would handle Denal's declaration.
Taking a deep breath, she took the proffered daggers. 'I, well, thank you, Denal. In dangerous times like these, I can't think of a more valuable offer than protection. You—'
She glanced around again, trying to think of the proper words. These guys seemed big on formality and ritual. Finally, she settled on simplicity. 'You honor me.'
Denal looked up at her, eyes shining, then rose to his feet. She handed his daggers back to him, hoping that was the right thing to do. He took them and put them back in their sheaths on the sides of his massive thighs.
The other Warriors started clapping and cheering and stomping their feet. She smiled and started to say something, when an icy voice broke in from behind her. 'Isn't this touching? Perhaps next we can all have a group hug.'
Chapter 18
Conlan swung around to face Alaric. 'I don't appreciate your tone, priest,' he said, folding his arms over his chest.
.Alaric raised one eyebrow and shrugged. It wasn't like Conlan had expected him to be intimidated, but a little respect might be nice.
'You'll get respect when you earn it,' Alaric replied, eerily imitating Conlan's thoughts again.
Conlan filed the detail for future consideration and then, before the gasp even finished leaving Riley's lips, he slammed Alaric up against the wall. 'Either you serve me, or you do not. Poseidon gave you the rank of high priest, but the role of royal adviser is mine to bestow.'
He stared into the priest's eyes. 'If all this attitude is your way of saying you want out of the job, consider it done.'
Releasing Alaric's shirt, he turned to Riley. 'You must be starving. Hopefully, one of these bottomless pits saved us a muffin or two.'
She gaped up at him, mouth opening to speak. But he shook his head and, surprisingly, she went along with him and remained silent.
As they started to walk across the room toward the low coffee table covered with food, he heard Alaric's voice behind him. 'No, I don't want
Conlan had never heard such anguish in the priest's voice. With a hand under her elbow, he urged Riley toward Ven. Then he turned to face Alaric. 'The fault is not yours. If anything, it's my fault because I wasn't there to protect the Temple.'
Bastien slammed his coffee mug down on a table. 'The fault is mine. I had many friends among the House of Mycenae. The gods know I should have suspected their plan.'
Justice laughed. 'Yeah, it's everybody's fault. It's nobody's fault. Does it really fucking matter? While we sit around here eating toast and assigning blame, Reisen gets farther and farther away.'
Conlan held up a hand. 'Enough. Justice is right. Alaric, have you been able to scry for the Trident?'
'No. I get flashes, and then it's gone. Almost as if they've discovered some magic shielding for it. Or the Trident hides itself from a failed priest.'
Ven spoke up, voice heavy. 'Then we're doomed. We can search the old-fashioned way, but he could be a thousand miles or more away by now, in any direction.'
'He's got a band of warriors with him,' Christophe ventured. 'Unless they've split up. It would be tough to hide ten or more warriors traveling together.'
Conlan took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. 'Then we will also divide to follow them. Alaric, is there any way you can magnify the scrying?'
Before Alaric could respond, Riley interrupted. 'By any chance, are you talking about a bunch of guys who give off the same emotional vibe as you all do, except with a lot of 'rah, rah, quest, quest' crap thrown in?'
Nine heads whipped around to face her. She blinked, then continued, gaze turned inward. 'If yes, they can't be more than twenty miles from here. I've had to work hard to shield from their emotions for the past half hour or so. I thought it was some kind of feedback loop from all of you, but I'm figuring out how to sort and separate, and they're definitely different.'
She closed her eyes, and Conlan could feel her concentration.
Then she jumped up from the couch, nearly dropping her muffin on Ven's head. 'And we need to get going. Because they're heading out to attack some shape-shifters.
Ven jerked his head toward the door, and the Warriors strode out of the room behind him, leaving Conlan and Riley arguing over somebody named Ramirez. It was almost funny, the way Conlan was suddenly worried about the feelings of a human female. If that's what soul-melding did to a man, thank Poseidon that it had never happened to him. He liked his women brainless and forgettable, and he had the feeling Lady Sunshine was neither of those things.
Not his problem. At least, not yet. If she caused a problem, well, he'd take care of it. That was his job, right?
He reached the entryway closet and threw open the door. Reaching in between a few of the jackets and coats, he grasped the hanging rod with one hand, and twisted it three-quarters of the way forward, and then a half-turn back.
There was a click and a whirring sound, and the rod—coats and all—retracted into the opening made by a panel that slid open on the right side of the closet. A second panel, in the back of the closet, opened noiselessly to a small room filled with a lot of shiny toys.
'That's a sweet arsenal, Ven,' said Christophe, crowding close behind him. 'What have you got in there?'
Ven flicked on a light switch, and spotlights shone on the contents of the room. 'Let me give you a tour, my man,' he said, moving past a rack of submachine guns to lift down a shotgun exclusively designed for him.
'This baby is a Franchi SPAS-12. A combat shotgun designed with loving care by the Italians, who are brilliant with cars, guns, and any kind of exquisite machinery. And it's specially modified to hold these.'
He held up a bullet-shaped glass vial, filled with a viscous liquid. 'Extremely high-dose Special K. The one thing nearly guaranteed to bring down a shape-shifter.'
Denal shouldered his way in, eyes wide. 'Special K?'
'Ketamine. Animal tranquilizer. Hold this.' Ven slapped the gun into Denal's hands.
'Guns. Poison. Explosives. We've got it all, ladies,' Ven said, a grim smile curling the edges of his mouth.
'The power to control the elements is no longer enough for you, Vengeance?' Alaric asked.
'Save the scorn for somebody who gives a shit. Not all of us have your level of access to Poseidon's power,' Ven said.
'I'll stick with my sword,' Justice drawled. 'She and I have killed more bloodsuckers and shape-shifters than all of your toys put together.'
'Suit yourself. That's more for me to play with' Ven returned, loading up. 'There's plenty here for anybody who wants some. As they say in the movies, boys—'
'Lock and load!' Christophe shouted, grinning.
Ven nodded. 'Lock and load.'
Conlan's fingers clenched on the steering wheel of the Mercedes as he listened to Riley's phone calls. First she'd called into her office and asked for some time off. From what he'd gleaned of the one-sided conversation, they were more than happy to grant her the time. It sounded like she hadn't taken much time off in the past few
