Heart Of Atlantis Read online

  “You have no idea. Two emotional empaths during puberty? It was hell,” Quinn said.

  The men winced, and Erin laughed.

  Just then the door opened and a tall, athletic redhead walked in. Justice jumped up and pulled her into his arms, so it must be Keely.

  “We have been alone for too long today,” Justice said firmly, but Keely just laughed.

  “Hey, relax. I’m starving after a long, dusty day translating scrolls from the library of Alexandria. Thank goodness Eleni is having a sleepover with one of her many friends tonight.”

  “It is good she finally has friends, after what she endured,” Justice said grimly.

  Their gazes met in a glance of shared understanding, and then Keely leaned down to grab a slice of bread from a basket on the table, tore a piece off, and ate it.

  “Now I need a plate full of whatever smells so delicious, and a hot bath, and, oh, hey, we have company,” she said, as she finally saw Quinn in the corner.

  “That is not company, that is family,” Justice said. “Keely, my love, meet Quinn Dawson.”

  Keely whistled, her gaze quickly snapping to Alaric and then back to Quinn. She dropped the rest of her bread on a plate and quickly crossed the room, hand outstretched. Quinn stood to shake her hand, but at the last minute, Keely pulled her into a hug.

  “Family, right? Hey, I am a big admirer of yours,” she said seriously after she released Quinn. “It takes a lot of courage to do what you do every day, without special powers or magic. Thank you for making the world safer for the rest of us.”

  Quinn shuffled her feet, uncomfortable with the expression and even more so with the honest sincerity of emotion the woman projected. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I mean, I’m just one of many, and we all do our part.”

  “Untrue,” Alaric said. “You are first among many, and you do far more than your part.”

  “Jack was first,” she fired back at him. “And I left him, trapped as a tiger forever for all I know.”

  Riley took her sister’s hand and squeezed it. “We were all so sorry to learn about Jack. We’ve been praying that he finds his way back.”

  Quinn couldn’t bear to take comfort she knew she didn’t deserve, so she snatched her hand away. “Praying to which god? Because from what I’ve seen of Poseidon, he isn’t much of a bargain.”

  “I still believe the same things and pray to the same god,” Riley said softly. “My worldview has expanded, that’s all.”

  Keely headed back to the table and quietly began arranging a plate of food. While she ate, Conlan and Ven ran through everything that had been discussed, but Alaric sat silent and brooding. When she, Quinn, and Riley were up to speed, Keely nodded and put her fork down.

  “I don’t know if this is a good time for this, then, with the impostor and the danger to Quinn and Anubisa and everything else. But I have confirmation about Zelia and Nereus, Alaric. They were definitely married. I know why the ruling king at the time and the Elders implemented the new rules about celibacy, too.”

  She looked at Quinn and then returned her gaze to Alaric. “It’s absolutely definite. Nereus went insane when Zelia died, and he almost blew up the entire dome.”

  Alaric sat back in his chair, a mask of implacable calm on his features, his emotions shut down behind an impenetrable steel wall. Everyone was staring at him—everyone but Quinn, who looked anywhere else but at him. He felt like someone had torn out his guts and put them on display for everyone in the room to pick over and examine.

  “I have no interest in this story at this time,” he lied.

  “Oh, no, buddy, you can bet we’re going to hear this,” Quinn said, addressing him for the first time since walking into the room more than an hour earlier. “After what happened on that island today? You bet your sweet ass we’re going to listen.”

  “On the island?” Ven said, looking back and forth between Quinn and Alaric as if he were at a sporting match.

  “Sweet ass,” Justice repeated, grinning like a fool. “Oh, this is going to be good. We knew we liked her.”

  “I will strike both of your personalities dead,” Alaric told him in an ice-drenched voice.

  “Not with me in the room,” Keely said cheerfully. “I’m pretty good with a shotgun, and I always get my man, big boy, so why don’t you hush and I’ll tell this and get it over with?”

  “What is your source?” Quinn demanded. “Anything beyond your so-called touchy-feely crap?”

  “Quinn,” Riley chided her, but Keely just smiled. “It’s okay, I’m used to that. Although someone who is a verified aknasha shouldn’t be the first to throw the touchy-feely stone, but whatever. Yes, there is more. I read about it in a hidden set of scrolls, which somebody shoved deep into a niche in a wall behind a thousand-pound statue a very long time ago.”

  “Hidden scrolls?” Alaric was interested in spite of himself. “Behind which statue?”

  “The one of Poseidon, ah, enjoying himself. With himself,” Keely said, blushing scarlet.

  Alaric nodded. “Ah, yes. The Elders must have had a sense of humor, back then.”

  “Or the statue was later moved in front of the niche, who cares, get on with it,” Ven urged.

  “It was actually a narrative history sealed inside a case with a copy of a proclamation,” Keely said. “The librarians verified my translation, and they’re making a copy for you, Alaric, and another for the Elders and—”

  “What did it say?” Quinn cut in, unable to bear it for one moment longer.

  Keely blinked and then grinned. “Sorry. Scientist’s curse, we blather on. Anyway, here’s the headline: after Nereus almost destroyed Atlantis and everyone in it, the Elders proclaimed, on behalf of Poseidon, that every high priest from that time on must swear a vow of celibacy, in order to decrease their power. That way, nobody could ever be as powerful as Nereus again and thereby endanger Atlantis.”

  Everybody in the room started talking at once, but Alaric ignored them all and stared steadily at Quinn. She looked back at him, and she didn’t look happy, either.

  “So it’s all a lie,” Conlan said. “You don’t need to keep to that stupid vow.”

  “I feel like we should not be discussing such personal matters about Alaric,” Riley said, and Alaric nodded at the princess, appreciating that at least one person respected his privacy.

  Quinn’s voice cut through the general chatter. “It doesn’t matter. What a few scrolls might say, what Keely might have felt—none of it matters. This was how long ago?”

  “Nereus was high priest around eight thousand years ago, give or take,” Conlan said.

  “Exactly. Even if that’s true, your insane dictator of a sea god has had thousands of years to turn it into a real rule. There is every likelihood—and a pretty damn good probability, I’d say—that breaking the vow today does exactly what the Elders say it does. Alaric would lose his magic and his ability to protect you just when you need him most.”

  Alaric sat silent as the woman he loved stated his own innermost thoughts. Until Poseidon said otherwise, he was forced to believe the truth as the Elders had told it. And Poseidon—his “insane dictator of a sea god”—wasn’t talking.

  “Thank you all for your impassioned analysis of my sex life,” he finally said, ice coating every syllable. “Now I would ask that we get back to discussing how to capture or kill this Ptolemy impostor and retrieve Poseidon’s Pride before, all the gods forbid, Anubisa gets her undead hands on it.”

  The room subsided into silence and general noises of agreement.

  Riley stood up and took her sister’s hand. “No. Not tonight. Quinn has been through too much in too short of a time, and she needs a good night’s sleep. We can discuss battle plans, and which of us are off to put our lives in danger this time, in the morning over a good breakfast.”

  Alaric rose and bowed to Riley, but he felt the wildness growing within him at the thought that anyone, even her sister, would take Quinn away from him.

  “With al
l due respect, Princess, Quinn will stay with me tonight.”

  Quinn’s eyes flashed. “Here we are, full circle, at the point where people are making decisions for me. Guess what? Quinn will do whatever Quinn damn well pleases, or Quinn will shoot somebody.”

  She pulled out her Glock and pointed it at the floor, an edge of violence in her eyes.

  Riley held up her hands, palms out, and grinned. “It’s not like I could ever tell you what to do. Why would I start now? What do you want, my darling sister?”

  She glanced at Alaric. Considered. Decided. “I’ll visit Poseidon’s temple with Alaric. I’ve wanted to see it for a long time, and I’m too wound up to sleep now.”

  She whirled around and snapped at Alaric when he dared to smile. “And then you’ll take me back to Riley, so I can get some uninterrupted sleep, without flying monkeys or tornados or anything else attacking me. Plus, I want to cuddle my nephew some more. He may be the only male I’ve ever met who isn’t an arrogant ass.”

  “Give him time,” Conlan advised, grinning. “It runs in the genes, or so my lovely wife tells me.”

  Riley just laughed. “Okay—temple, bath, bed, baby, breakfast, in that order. All discussions of impostors and danger are hereby officially on hold.”

  She hugged Quinn. “When you run with this crowd, you learn to take respite where you can find it. There’s always another crisis.”

  Quinn blinked rapidly against the tears Alaric could tell she was battling, and he clenched his fists as he fought his powerful need to go to her and offer comfort. She wouldn’t welcome it; she’d hate being made to feel weak in front of so many. But he could help in another way.

  He took her hand before she could stop him, and the electricity that shot between them just at the touch of his fingers on hers reminded him of their kisses on that beach. His body clenched, hardening just from that slight touch, and she gasped. It was a tiny sound and probably none but he heard it, but it was enough to set his pulse racing. The uncharacteristically vulnerable look in her eyes called to every protective instinct he possessed, and he leaned down toward her.

  “At least we know there won’t be flying monkeys,” he said softly.

  She started laughing. “Lead on. Let’s see this temple and get to the group singing, already.”

  This time, it was Alaric who laughed out loud. As he led the way out of the room, he glanced back over his shoulder and realized that every single person in the room was staring at him, mouth hanging open in shock.

  “He laughed,” Ven said. “Did you hear that? He actually laughed.”

  Alaric all but dragged Quinn down the hall to get away from them.

  “I laugh,” he muttered defensively.

  “The occasional evil mwah ha ha doesn’t count,” Quinn said, grinning up at him.

  He couldn’t help it. He laughed again.

  Damn it.

  Chapter 13

  Quinn climbed the steps and entered the imposing but somehow delicate building, all graceful arches and curves, and reflected that it was entirely unexpected.

  “From everything I hear about Poseidon, I picture him as a self-indulgent thug. Seems odd that his temple is so graceful.”

  Alaric laughed, but a white-robed man with a face like a bulldog’s gave her a scandalized look as he scurried by, muttering something in that liquid language that had to be Atlantean.

  Quinn stared after him, bemused. “What was that? ‘Blasphemy, you blasphemer’ kind of thing?”

  “He’s sure Poseidon will strike you dead at any moment and wants to be out of the line of fire.” Alaric’s deep voice was rich with amusement, and a shiver tingled its way up her spine from the sound.

  “Man up,” she told bulldog guy, making sure that the fleeing coward didn’t hear her. Her mother would have had her guts for garters for disrespecting someone else’s religion. Of course, it wasn’t the religion she didn’t respect. It was the selfish god at its heart.

  They walked from the foyer into a giant, high-ceilinged room bathed in soft light. The walls were marble, inset with jade, amethysts, and other precious stones that Quinn didn’t recognize. She wasn’t exactly a jewelry kind of girl, though, so it wasn’t surprising.

  Tall green plants flourished in every corner, and long, low upholstered benches were scattered about the space, beckoning the occupants to rest, reflect, or simply be. She looked around the room for a long time in silence, enjoying the peace and tranquility almost in spite of herself.

  “Well, it seems like a place where you could commune with the gods quite happily,” she finally said diplomatically.

  “Poseidon is not a peaceful, communing kind of god,” Alaric replied. “When he wants me, it is usually for something involving gaining power, jockeying for power, negotiating for power, or—”

  “Yeah, I get it,” she cut in. “Those old gods are still bloodthirsty and power-hungry?”

  “Some things never change. He does his best to protect his children.”

  “Children?”

  “We of Atlantis are his children,” Alaric said. “Since you are aknasha, you’re clearly descended from Atlantean ancestors, so technically you’re his to protect, too.”

  “No thanks,” she said firmly. “I’ve seen what he calls protection. Letting Riley die, branding her, the way he treats you—I don’t want anything to do with any of it.”

  “If you accept me, you will have no choice,” he said, taking her shoulders in his hands and turning her to face him. “Even if I were to leave the temple, I could never completely escape Poseidon. Would it be so bad a bargain?”

  She shook her head, helpless to know how to answer. Her heart cried out for her to answer no, but her head urged caution.

  “I need to kiss you again,” he said.

  She backed away, shaking her head. “I can’t. Not now. Please. Just . . . just take me on the tour.”

  His face hardened from her rejection, but he nodded and took her hand again, as if he needed to feel her touch. As they left the room and entered a corridor, he gestured to a dull black wooden door.

  “Through that door and down those stairs is where I faced the Rite of Oblivion. I eventually survived it and became high priest,” he said with an obviously false nonchalance.

  Whatever lurked down those stairs carried bleak and painful memories for him that were so powerful she caught faint traces of the emotions from around the edges of his mental shield. She knew she should ask—they needed honesty and acceptance between them—but she could not.

  Would not.

  She had her own secrets to keep. And after she’d miscalculated so badly and spent more than a year imprisoned by the vampire she’d targeted, a ritual named for blessed forgetfulness had a certain appeal.

  In any event, she had no reserves of strength left. Not enough to face entering a room where something called the Rite of Oblivion took place. Not tonight.

  His eyes darkened, and her throat tightened at the realization that she was failing him through her silence. She had to ask at least one question; discover the answer she most needed to know.

  “What would have happened if you’d failed the test?”

  “I would be dead. You never would have met me. Perhaps an entire set of problems would have been avoided,” he said bleakly.

  “Never say that. Never. No matter what happens between us, now or in the future, the world has been a better place for having you in it, Alaric.” Her throat felt raw from allowing the starkly sincere words to escape. Emotion, raw and vulnerable, burned inside her until she had to fight tears yet again. Twice in one night. She was falling apart. Maybe it was better for everyone that her days as a rebel were over.

  He pulled her into his arms and rested his cheek on the top of her head. “You honor and humble me with your honesty, mi amara. I can do no other than return it. You must know by now that you are everything in the world to me. Please stay with me tonight. Just for a little while longer. Please.”

  And, for all of her defi
ance earlier, she couldn’t refuse him. Not then, maybe not ever. She’d stay strong and stay out of his bed, but she couldn’t refuse to hold him, even just for a little while.

  As Quinn showered, Alaric paced through his austere suite of rooms, seeing the place with new eyes. With her eyes. Everything was gray and hard-edged and bleak. No softness, no color. It was like a portrait of the inside of his soul. No wonder she’d flinched when she first walked in. He vowed to change everything. He’d add color. Texture. Sensual fabrics. Art on the walls.

  Maybe she wanted jewels or baubles or presents. He didn’t think so, but Ven always told them women loved trinkets, and Erin certainly wore enough jewelry. All those rings. But wait, those were tools and symbols of her magic. Did that count?

  He stopped dead on the edge of the floor and banged his head against the wall. He, Alaric, high priest to Poseidon, most feared man in Atlantis, had turned into a blithering idiot. All because there was a naked woman in his bathroom.

  No, not a naked woman. The naked woman. The perfect woman. The one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

  When the door finally opened, he was pretending to read a book, which he promptly dropped on his foot as soon as he saw her. Her short, dark hair was wet and combed back and away from her perfect face, and she was wrapped in his white silk robe. It was far too big for her, even with the sleeves rolled up, but she looked like a fallen angel; all porcelain skin and huge, dark eyes.

  He wanted to run.

  He wanted to shout.

  He wanted to worship at her feet.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed this,” she said nervously. “I washed my clothes out in the sink, so as soon as they dry out—”

  “Keep it,” he said hoarsely, fighting hard to keep from leaping across the room and pouncing on her like a lust-crazed youngling. “It looks far better on you than it ever did on me.”

  She plucked at a sleeve. “I feel like this is a huge mistake, being here, and wearing this, and—”

  “Nothing could be further from the truth. Everything in my life that doesn’t have you in it is a mistake,” he replied with total sincerity. “I am willing to spend eternity telling you that.”