Atlantis Rising

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 out of the job, you idi—my prince, I'm trying to do my job, which includes reclaiming the Trident, so you can ascend to the throne."

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. Now."

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 years.

Why didn't that surprise him? She had a sense of duty as ingrained as any warrior's.

"Hey, Detective Ramirez, it's Riley Dawson," she said into her cell phone, quite pointedly not looking in Conlan's direction. He was amused by her defiance.

Not just amused, to be honest with himself. It made him hot. Although, for some reason, all the woman had to do was breathe, and it made him hot.

Definitely not a good sign.

She was quiet for a moment, nodding at something the detective was saying on the line. Then she spoke again. "Thank God."

She glanced at Conlan. "The baby's going to be okay." Then she spoke into the phone again. "Yeah, I can come in and give you a statement, but pretty much what I told you last night is all I know."

"Okay, then. You have my cell number. Just call me."

As she flipped her phone shut, Conlan debated and then decided against telling her that her cell phone was not going to be getting any signal when she was deep beneath the ocean.

She'd figure it out. Why borrow trouble?

Alaric leaned over the seat from his spot in the back, directly behind Riley. "I hate cars, Conlan. Tell me why you believed it was so important for us to use cars?"

Conlan flicked a glance at him. "Traveling via mist is easy enough for you and me, and even Ven, but not as easy for some of the Seven, especially over long distances. And it would definitely freak Riley out. Since she's the only one who can sense Reisen and his men, I wanted her to feel comfortable."

Ven spoke up. "I'm good with this. My toys don't travel well. No metal without orichalcum in it, remember? Hey, we've got fine engineering, a smooth ride, and an excellent sound system. I've got some killer CDs loaded, if you want to click on the tunes."

Conlan looked in the rearview mirror, making sure that Justice and the others were behind him in the Hummer. "Not exactly inconspicuous vehicles you picked, are they, Ven?" he said drily.

Riley made a small sound in her throat, and her hands clenched around her tiny telephone. "We need to get there, fast. They're close now. I—they must be in the park. This is the road to First Landing State Park. I'd heard that the local Shape-shifter Appreciation League had a forum there."

Ven snorted. "Great. Now the bastards have an appreciation league? When they spend most of their time finding ways to eat you people?"

Riley turned her head to look at him, eyes troubled. "I don't think that's entirely true. Both shape-shifters and vampires have made a considerable effort to integrate peacefully into society."

It was Conlan's turn to be disgusted. "Are you all fools? For thousands of years, both races have considered humans as sheep—their personal food supply. Suddenly, they come out into the daylight—metaphorically speaking—and the first thing they do is try to take over. How is that integrating? Peacefully or otherwise?"

"I, well, I sort of agree with you." She sighed. "I always thought it was a little freaky that only a few years after we even knew vampires existed, suddenly they're running their own house of Congress. I mean, how did that happen without some sort of mind control?" she said.

"Mind control or physical threat," Alaric said smoothly. "It seems that many of your dissenting voices have met with untimely accidents or disappeared. Did none of you notice the pattern in that?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Riley said. "There hasn't been anything about that in the news."

"You mean the shape-shifter-controlled media? I wonder how that could be possible," Alaric returned, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

Conlan pulled into the park's entrance and found a spot for the car, vicious thoughts whirling around in his brain. As he slammed the car into park and shut down the ignition, he shifted in the seat and stared at Alaric. "Do you suspect that they could be teaming up? After so many centuries of blood feud, do you really believe that the shape-shifters would help the bloodsuckers?"

Alaric returned his stare calmly, although Conlan noticed that the priest's eyes had begun to glow. "You've been gone for most of the decade, Conlan. There does seem to be a spirit of cooperation between them that was never there before. It worries the Council a great deal."

"Hell, it worries me a great big fucking deal," Ven snarled. "If we—"

Riley shrieked, in a high-pitched, shrill tone that Conlan had never heard before. She clutched her head and screamed. He pulled her into his arms, trying to comfort her. Needing to comfort her.

Needing to make that inhuman sound stop. "Riley! Riley, what is it?"

She abruptly stopped shrieking and stared up at him, eyes vacant and turned inward. "They're here. They're here and they're killing. Murdering. Violence and death and pain… No! No, that's not possible!"

She started to scream so loudly Conlan thought his eardrums would rupture. He took her by the shoulders and shook her a little to try to pull her out of the hell she was clearly experiencing.

"Riley! You're safe. You're here with us. You have to shield from those emotions," he said roughly.

She shook her head back and forth. "No, no, no, you don't understand," she moaned. "It's Quinn. Somehow, they've got my sister. I can feel her—I can feel her, and she's dying."

Ven and Alaric jumped out of the car and slammed their doors shut, then Ven yanked Conlan's open. Conlan lifted Riley onto his lap and pulled her out of the car with him. He helped her to stand, arm firmly around her waist. "Tell us. Point us to where they are, Riley. You know we can help her if you do."

She looked up at him, still clutching her head, still dazed. "What? Pain, Quinn, nooooo!"

Alaric's head snapped up, and he pointed down a path. "There. I can sense the Trident now. It's blazing with power. And—I don't know how, but I can sense her sister, too," he said, lips drawn back in a snarl. "I can feel her inside my skin. Riley is correct. If we don't get there fast, she's going to die."

The Hummer pulled into the parking space next to them, and the warriors piled out. "Hey, cool place. So, what's the scoop?" Christophe called, then he stopped, frozen, as he caught sight of Riley. His face hardened, and he headed toward them, followed by Bastien and the others.

"We go after them now," Conlan commanded. "Riley, you stay here out of danger, and—"

"No! She's my sister!" she snapped at him, seeming to come briefly out of her daze. "I'm coining with you."

"We don't have time to argue about this," Alaric said. "And we're attracting unwelcome attention." He nodded to a group of campers who were openly staring at the leather-clad group of warriors. Then his entire body jerked, as if he'd taken a blow.

"Now. We go now?" he ground out, green eyes glowing more brightly than Conlan had ever seen them. Walking, then running, Alaric took off down the trail into the woods.

Ven looked to Conlan, who nodded. "Follow him. All of you. I'll be right behind you."

As the warriors pounded down the trail after Alaric, he looked down at Riley, who still leaned against him. "You remain behind, where it's safe, or I swear I'll stay here and sit on you," he growled.

She blinked. "Yes, okay. I'm feeling very weak, suddenly. But will you bring Quinn back to me right away?"

"I promise," he said, then opened the car door and helped her back inside. She leaned back against the seat, clearly exhausted, and he felt a wave of concern for what the empathy must cost her.

He bent down to her and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "I'll bring her right back to you."

She looked up at him, eyes huge in her pale face. "Then go. Go now."

As she closed her eyes again, he gently shut the car door, looked around to see that the tourists had moved behind their large camping vehicle, and then he shimmered into mist. He'd get there more quickly—and unseen. And may the gods forgive anyone who had dared to harm Riley's sister.

Because Conlan had no mercy in him.