Atlantis Rising

Silken waves of midnight black hair caressed curves of such perfection that they would drive a human male to drooling madness. Piercing eyes the black of damned souls gazed at him, a spark of red in their exact centers.

She must be in a good mood.

Maybe he wouldn't die.

Maybe not this time.

'Afraid to answer me, Lord Barrabas?' She infused the word with sarcasm sharp enough to flay flesh from bones.

He'd done that with her, too. More of her 'toys.'

'I… forgive me, my lady goddess. I have no words, before your beauty.' He stammered out the words, knowing that flattery might have a chance to distract her. She was Death personified, but she was an ancient female death. Pretty words drew her attention like shiny things to the eyes of a crow.

'Yes. Yes, I am beautiful, Barrabas,' she preened. 'And I have been constrained from playing my favorite games for far too long, due to Poseidon's curse. But this day and yester eve bring me great joy, my young one. Do you wish to know why?'

Though nearly three thousand years old, the 'young one' was afraid to do more than nod.

She caressed his cheek with a fingertip, and his skin burned and sizzled in the wake of her touch. He fought to keep from flinching.

'The princeling himself broke Poseidon's curse. He has revealed the existence of Atlantis to one of the sheep, thus breaking the ancient stricture laid upon me by that prick of a sea god,' she said, skirts whirling around her with the force of her anger.

Barrabas gasped. 'Atlantis? The lost continent of legend truly exists?'

She smiled again, and her mouth was crowded with far too many teeth. Shiny, dagger-sharp teeth. He leaned toward her, hypnotized at the sight, but she laughed and turned away.

'No, Barrabas. I am in no mood to sample your wares again. First, I will tell you of Atlantis, and how you will serve me in my plans. Then.' She smiled again and prodded the motionless form of Drakos with one slippered foot. 'Then I will teach your general how to play.'

Chapter 21

Riley planted one hand on her hip, the other still supporting Quinn, and stared up at the walking mountain of muscle who was barring her path. 'Look, Bastien, I appreciate your loyalty to Conlan. Really I do. But Brennan already let us go, and I need to get my sister to a doctor.'

A trace of warm sympathy crossed Bastien's handsome face, but he shook his head and folded his arms across his enormous chest. 'I am sorry, Lady Riley, but I am unable to allow you to pass.'

Riley heard a sharp snick sound, and suddenly a lethal-looking knife blade was pressed up against Bastien's neck. And Quinn was the one holding the nonpointy end of it.

Riley gasped, but Bastien merely sighed, as if he were totally unconcerned with the six inches or so of steel pointing at his throat.

Quinn moved away from Riley and pushed her a little way back with the arm not holding the knife. 'Here's the deal, buddy. You let me and my sister go, or I'll slice your carotid artery into little pieces before you can say 'not- so-jolly giant.''

Bastien actually smiled. 'I am unsurprised that you would have the courage of a warrior five times your size, small one. Your sister's blood is strong in you. Were you suckled with tiger's milk?'

Riley snapped out of her shock and grabbed her sister's arm. 'Quinn, stop! These men are… well, they… they're the good guys.'

Quinn turned to look Riley in the eye, hand holding the knife never wavering. 'Riley, there are things here you don't understand. Those men who were dead—they were—'

'They were shape-shifters and Atlantean warriors,' Conlan said, stepping onto the path next to Riley. 'What will be interesting to learn is how you came to be lying, injured, in the midst of them.'

Brennan silently appeared beside Quinn. 'I sensed that you had finished the mortus desicana, and that it would be safe to let Lady Riley and her sister walk toward you,' he said, bowing slightly toward Conlan.

Quinn's eyes narrowed, but she finally put the knife down and stepped back from Bastien, who winked at her. 'Outnumbered by Atlantean warriors. That would actually explain a lot about the way they… Well. Do you have any proof of this ridiculous story? And what are you doing here?'

She swept out a hand at the path. 'Were those your men who attacked my wolves?'

Riley's heart, which had finally begun to slow down, started racing again. 'What? Your wolves? What are you doing hanging out with a pack of shape-shifters?'

Quinn gently patted her arm, with the air of a parent comforting a toddler. 'Shh, sis. It's okay. I'll tell you about it later.'

Oh, that was so not happening. Riley yanked her arm away from Quinn's hand. 'You can stow the condescending attitude, Quinn, and tell me what the hell you're doing here and why you had a… a gunshot wound that you nearly died from?'

Quinn had the audacity to roll her eyes. 'A little dramatic, don't you think? It was only my shoulder. I've had worse.' Her face softened, and she pulled Riley close in a fierce hug. 'I'm sorry, baby sister. I love you so much—I never wanted for you to see any of this world.' Quinn pulled away suddenly, and she scanned the area.

'Speaking of which, where is that other man? I had the strangest feeling that he crawled into my skin to heal me from the inside out…' Her voice trailed off, and her hand reached up to touch her shredded shirt and the unbroken skin underneath it. 'I know I didn't imagine that gunshot.'

'We can share our stories back at the house,' Conlan said. 'I think it's past time we got away from here.'

'The scene of the crime,' Quinn added, lines of sorrow and exhaustion on her face. 'Where are they? What did you do with… their bodies?'

Ven stumbled up to them, looking like he'd been on a three-week bender. His skin was gray, and the dark circles under his eyes went on for miles. Riley looked from him to Conlan, whose face was also drawn and pale, though less so than Ven's.

'What exactly happened to you two?' she asked, opening her mind and emotions for the first time since she'd seen the bodies.

But Conlan's mental shields were down in a big and serious way. She couldn't feel anything from him.

Ven, though, either wasn't as strong or else he was too tired to care. She felt it from him—the sorrow, the weariness, the horror at what they'd done.

But she didn't understand the emotions. 'What did you do to the bodies?' she asked, echoing Quinn.

'We had to dispose of them. We can't leave that kind of mess for the human authorities,' Conlan said, jaw clenching.

'But—no! You can't do that! We have to call 911 and—'

'He's right, Riley,' Quinn said wearily, head drooping. 'This is something beyond even the P Ops. Especially if they really are from Atlantis.'

Conlan held a hand out to Riley, and she blinked at him in utter disbelief. 'But, that can't be right. Paranormal Ops guys deal with this kind of stuff all the time, right? I mean—'

'Riley,' Conlan said, voice gentle. 'There is nothing left for them to find. Please. We need to get your sister out of danger.'

Riley hesitated another minute, then nodded, squaring her shoulders. 'Sure. Fine. You're right. Atlantis exists, vampires attack me, I nearly get killed by my client's boyfriend, and my sister is in league with werewolves. What's abnormal about that?'

She tightened her arm around Quinn, and they headed down the path toward the cars and, hopefully, toward some answers.

Conlan stared out the window into the fading sunlight, pondering how the world could go mad in a matter of