Atlantis Unmasked (6 page)

“Well, I am prettier,” Alexios replied, grinning.

Brennan's hands flashed out almost quicker than even an Atlantean eye could see, and two pairs of
shuriken
, made of Atlantean metal instead of the customary silver of Japanese throwing stars, sliced through the air and found their marks, dead center in the foreheads and hearts of each of the two shifters. Momentum carried the shifters forward a few more steps before they dropped.

But by then Alexios had already turned to scan the area and see where the next threat would be coming from. Lucas was caught up in battle with two more of the attackers at the edge of the water, fangs and claws slicing, tearing, and rending. Alexios took off toward them, but some instinct tickled at the edge of his consciousness and, acting purely on instinct, he knelt and drove his daggers straight behind him and up, catching another one of the wolf shifters under its neck on its downward leap. It howled as it died, and the eerie sound shivered ice down Alexios's spine.

He didn't have time for shivers, though. He sprang back up and headed for Lucas again, but by the time he'd reached his friend, the two attackers lay on the ground, dying or dead.

Brennan flashed toward them, scanning the edges of the trees for any further attackers. “I had thought there were more of them, but perhaps they fled.”

Alexios shook his head. “I doubt it. They're too intent on this attack, no matter the cost. I'd really like to know what was behind it.”

Lucas snarled, the blood dripping from his muzzle underscoring the feral sound.

“I hate wolf shifters nearly as much as cat shifters—no offense, Lucas,” Christophe said, walking toward them. “I still can't believe Bastien is going to wed a kitty cat. Wonder if they'll need a litter box? Oh, and you might want to duck.”

Brennan and Alexios hit the ground simultaneously as if choreographed; centuries of fighting together had taught them that hesitation often proved fatal. Lucas snarled again, but crouched low.

Alexios had barely caught sight of the four remaining shifters, lurking at the edge of the tree line, when Christophe's razor-sharp blades of ice arrowed through the air and sliced through their necks.

The Atlantean power over water could be quite deadly when wielded by an expert. Too bad it had to be Christophe.

“That's four at once,” Christophe said smugly. “The ale is quite definitely on you three.”

“Are there any more of them, Lucas?” Alexios knew the shifter's keen sense of smell would discover any remaining attackers.

Lucas's heavy head lifted as he scented the air. Then he slowly shook his head back and forth, taking a few steps away. The shimmer of the Change hung in the air for a few moments while Lucas returned to human form. The Change had healed the worst measure of his wounds, but what remained showed how badly he'd been hurt in the fight.

Alexios bent to clean his daggers in the rushing waters of the river, then dried and resheathed them, not trusting himself to talk just yet.

Lucas evidently didn't have that problem. “Private meeting.
Private.
I don't quite see how bringing your goons along fulfilled that request,” he snarled.

“Goons? Did he just call us goons, Brennan?” Christophe asked. “Listen, doggie boy, I can show you
goons
—”

Alexios sliced a hand through the air, cutting him off. Turned back to Lucas. “Are you freaking kidding me? Did you set me up? What in the nine hells was this?”

Lucas's rage and the shimmer of the incipient Change hung in the air for a moment, but then the shifter visibly forced himself to calm down. “Set you up? Set you up? I called you here to ask for help. Which, as you might guess, wasn't easy for me to do in the first place. Do you really know me so little that you think I would set you up? I was going to ask you to stand as second pack-father to my sons, you damn fool.”

Brennan bowed, elegant as always. “Congratulations on the imminent birth, and may the waters of your world serve to nourish your family now and for always.”

Lucas's eyes widened at Brennan's formal speak, but he inclined his head. “Thank you. As you may or may not know, the pack-father protects the children as if they were his own—would die for them. The first must be Pack, but there is precedent for naming a second. I've chosen you, Alexios. Maybe that was a mistake.”

Alexios ran a hand through his hair, wincing when he hit the part of his scalp still tender from the shifter's attack. “It wasn't a mistake. We've been friends for a very long time, and I am honored beyond the telling of it that you would ask me to serve as second pack-father. I accept, if you still want me.” He offered his hand, and with only a moment's hesitation, Lucas grasped it in his own. A shared understanding passed between them, and Alexios knew that he, too, would protect Lucas's children with his life.

“Lovely. Really touching. Maybe we can eat chocolate and watch a chick flick next,” Christophe said. “Or maybe we can figure out how in the nine hells they knew we were here? Whatever else that was, it wasn't random. Not only were they here for us but they seemed to be targeting Alexios personally.”

“I also had noticed they were focusing on Alexios,” but I am not a particular fan of romantic comedy films,” Brennan said. “Lucas, did you mention this meeting to anyone else?”

Lucas was already shaking his head. “No. Like I said, I wanted to talk to you about what was going on. Vampires enthralling shifters. Pack acting contrary to our own best interests. Something big is going on—something different. The vamps have found a way to permanently enthrall shifters, Alexios. I don't need to tell you what that means for the survival of Pack—not to mention the survival of the humans.”

“Were these members of your pack?” Alexios demanded.

“No. Definitely not. You know we can tell Pack from scent. No way were those from mine. To the best of my knowledge, they weren't from anywhere around here.”

“To the best of your knowledge doesn't seem to be worth much, no offense,” Christophe sneered. Faint silvery-green power still pulsed at the edges of his fingertips. “It's getting harder and harder to tell who's on our side these days.”

Lucas growled deep in his throat, more wolf than man. “You keep saying ‘no offense,' and yet you are most certainly offending me. It occurs to me to ask why you felt the need to kill all four of the remaining attackers. We needed one alive to question. Maybe it's an Atlantean who's the traitor,” he said, his gaze drilling into Christophe. “
No offense.
”

Alexios stepped between them. “All right, already. Let's compare the lengths of our dicks later. Right now we need to figure out who is behind this attack, and why.”

“I would suggest the Primator, Vonos,” Brennan said calmly. Of course, Brennan had been calm for longer than anyone really knew, since something about a Roman senator's daughter had gone bad and Poseidon had cursed him never again to feel emotion, forever destroying Brennan's life.

Or maybe not. Maybe having no emotions was a better way to live.

Something in his gut twisted at the thought, but he put it, and any thoughts of Grace, back in a box to be dealt with later. Much later.

“Could be Vonos,” Christophe admitted. “But it doesn't smell like him. He's more about power and efficiency than the usual bad-guy evil bwah-ha-ha crap. He and Mussolini were probably buddies.”

Ever since vampires, shifters, and other supernatural creatures had openly declared themselves to exist around a decade ago, they'd been rapidly gaining ground in terms of legal rights. The new, all-vampire third house of Congress, the Primus, didn't exactly get staffed by election. Vampires didn't vote. The vamp who was old enough, powerful enough, and ruthless enough to take it was the one who won the coveted position of Primator, ruler of the Primus. Right now, that meant Vonos.

“Vonos is definitely not on our side, and he's bad news. Worse than Barrabas, even,” Alexios said. “At least with Barrabas, we could use his hot temper against him. This Vonos is as cold as those ice spears you used, Christophe. Nice job, by the way.”

Christophe's grin would have terrified any humans who happened to see it. “Thanks. I've been practicing. I would have thought Vonos was too busy with his new job as Primator to be messing with enthralling shifters in Yellowstone.”

“I heard you all had something to do with that. Senator Barnes's disappearance, I mean,” Lucas said.

“Senator Barnes.” Christophe snorted. “Barrabas, you mean. Damn leech had a lot to answer for.”

“Yeah, that was us,” Alexios said. “Long story. Vonos is the new big bad and apparently he's trying to blaze a name for himself as being even more powerful than Barrabas.”

“We need to investigate this further,” Brennan said. “I would suggest we return to Atlantis and see if we've had news from Tiernan and her fellow journalists. The movement to enthrall the shape-shifters is sweeping the country; not only that, but we have recently had news that the same is occurring in Asia and Europe. Maybe even Africa.”

Christophe rolled his eyes. “Sure.
That
's the only reason you want to get in touch with Tiernan. It's not like you went bat-shit crazy and almost dropped her and banged her on the spot when you first met her or anything.”

“Christophe—” Alexios began, but Brennan held up a hand.

“As you know, I have no memory of this occurrence. In any event, I would suggest we return to Atlantis immediately and refrain from further pointless discussion on this or other issues until we are in possession of more facts.”

“I'll second that,” Alexios agreed. “Lucas—”

But Lucas's gaze was turned inward; he stood straining toward the east, his head lifted into the wind. “It's time. Honey is ready to go into labor. I have to get back to her. Now.”

“Are you sure? Do you need us? Is there anything we can do?”

Lucas shook his head and grasped Alexios's proffered hand. “No, my friend. This is a time for Pack and celebration. We'll talk again soon. I give you my bond as alpha of the Yellowstone Pack that we will work together on this. The bloodsuckers don't have a chance against the combined might of Pack and Atlantis.”

Lucas grinned fiercely, again more wolf than man. He threw back his head and called out a long, undulating howl. “Until then, Alexios. Right now, I'm going to be a father.”

With that, Lucas took off running in a blur of speed. Before he hit the tree line he was already fully wolf. Alexios watched him for a moment, silently wishing him well, and then turned back to Brennan and Christophe.

“I think it's time for us to go as well. We can do nothing more here.”

“And these?” Brennan said, gesturing toward the fallen shifters, who had returned to their human forms in death.

“Lucas will take care of them. For us to do anything with their bodies might violate pack law.”

“Let's get out of here then,” Christophe said. “It's still early enough to find a top-notch ale and a woman with a big, round ass who is willing to do very nasty things to me.”

Alexios shook his head. “Seriously, Christophe, you need help. In the worst way.”

Christophe laughed. “That's what I'm talking about. The worst way.”

Brennan gestured with one hand, and the familiar ovoid shape of the portal began to form in the air. When the iridescent shape had lengthened and widened enough to allow them to pass into Atlantis, their first sight was of half a dozen portal guards crouched at full battle readiness, swords and spears aimed directly at them. The soldiers all wore the silver and cerulean blue of the Atlantean royal guard, and the sight of them was certainly enough to give pause to any who dared to try forcible entry. Not that the portal had ever once opened to an enemy in more than eleven thousand years.

As far as they knew.

Alexios drew his daggers and stepped forward but didn't cross over yet. “Status?”

Captain Marcus bowed and then gestured to his men to stand down. “Lord Alexios. Be welcome.”

Alexios sheathed his daggers as the portal guards lowered and sheathed their own weapons. “Status?” he repeated, eyes narrowing.

“Apologies, my lord, but it is happening,” the steely-eyed veteran said, breaking into an uncharacteristic grin. “Lady Riley has gone into labor, and the heir to the throne of all Atlantis is even now making his or her way into the world. I believed that increased security at this time would be prudent.”

Behind Alexios, Christophe let out a whoop. “It's about time. Now maybe Conlan can quit walking around with the stick shoved up his—”

“Thank you,” Alexios said. “We'd better get to the palace, then.”

He waved his arm and first Brennan, then Christophe headed through the portal. As Christophe passed him, Alexios grabbed his arm in a very unfriendly grip. “Say anything like that about our high prince again, and it will be my boot up
your
ass,” he growled quietly so that no one else would hear.

Christophe yanked his arm free, eyes flashing a darker green as he drew power to himself. “I'm getting awfully tired of being threatened, Alexios. Know it.”

“My lord?” the guard called. “The portal is shrinking.”

Alexios crossed through the magical entry into Atlantis behind Christophe, wondering what would happen if the day ever came that he was forced to challenge him. The warrior's ability to channel power was nearly as great as that of High Priest Alaric, and Alexios knew that Alaric could kick his ass in a fight.

Of course, Alexios had learned a trick or two over the centuries, too.