Atlantis Awakening (12 page)

Game over.

There was no freaking way that she'd want him now.

Erin stirred beside him, and he resisted the urge to open his eyes, afraid that she was climbing out of bed to run as far and as fast as she could. Straight away from him. Not that he could blame her if she did. If he didn't see her leave, maybe it wouldn't hurt as much.

“Ven. Ven, I know you're awake. Look at me.”

He felt her touch on the side of his face, soft and gentle. His eyes snapped open, but he didn't speak. Couldn't speak.

Her eyes were huge, enormous, a drowning blue. He thought he could fall into the depths of them and never climb out. But he still couldn't talk.

“I saw inside you, Ven,” she said, her voice breaking a little. “I saw the horrible things you've been forced to do. Awful things, for so very long. Dancing with death over and over to protect your family, to protect your fellow warriors. Most of all, to protect humanity.”

The tears spilled past her lashes and rolled down her face. “Oh, Ven, your mother…your parents. I am so sorry.”

He tried to push the words past the aching in his throat. Tried to come up with a defense that would make her see past the monster he'd had to be to the man he could become.

Tried to let her know he would never fail to protect her as he'd failed to protect his mother. As he'd failed to protect Conlan.

Tried to find the words that would make her want to stay.

But before he could find any words at all, she curled up against his chest, pulling the bedcovers up over them both. “I'm here now,” she whispered. “Let go of some of the pain and let me hold you.”

He tightened his arms around her in a wordless prayer of relief. She was nothing that he'd ever wanted—human, gem singer, and witch.

She was everything he'd ever needed.

For a very long time—long after she'd fallen asleep, exhausted from the day and from their lovemaking—he simply held her and watched her sleep.

The palace, Atlantis

Ven opened his eyes, going from sound asleep to fully alert in the span of a split second, instinctively reaching for his weapons and finding his arms full of warm, soft woman instead.

“So, you're finally awake, sleepy head,” Erin murmured. “Tell me about this symbol on your chest.” She traced the symbol of his oath to Poseidon, high on the left side of his chest, with one finger. He caught her hand, brought it to his mouth, and gently kissed her palm. If she didn't want to talk about what had happened, he would give her time to process it. It's not like he'd been prepared to reach the soul-meld with a woman he'd only known for a matter of days.

Actually, he wasn't sure he was prepared to
ever
reach the soul-meld, he thought, faint strains of another Elvis song singing a fading farewell in his mind. The soul-meld was not a prison, however. Free will still ruled all choice. A brief thought of Erin choosing another man flashed through his mind and his gut wrenched with nausea and rage.

Free will sucked.

He drew in a deep breath and forced his mind away from anything to do with the soul-meld. “Poseidon burns that symbol into each of his warriors when we swear our oath of service to him. How did you sleep,
mi amara
?” He twined his hand through the silken waves of her hair, amazed that it was real—that
she
was real and still with him in the bed.

She was still naked, too, which was always a plus.

Erin leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss on his lips, smiling but with a hint of shyness in her expression. “I slept fine. I was pretty much unconscious, to be honest. After the…um. Well. We can talk about that later.”

He started to speak, not knowing what the hells he was going to say, but she held a finger to his lips. “Shh. Tell me about this symbol, for now.”

She removed her finger from his lips and tapped it on his chest. “What does it mean?”

“The circle represents all the peoples of the world, and the triangle is the pyramid of knowledge handed down to your kind by our ancient ones,” he explained. “Poseidon's Trident encompasses and protects them both—humanity and knowledge—to hold in trust for the future. As the sworn Warriors of Poseidon, we carry out this duty.”

“So, is that what you're doing with me?” she asked, suddenly not meeting his eyes. “Your duty?”

He grinned and tumbled her onto her back and rolled on top of her. “Oh, no, trust me, duty has never been this much fun. But if you feel it's my duty to make love to you all day long, I can certainly—”

Loud pounding on the door cut him off midsentence and he jumped up and out of the bed, leaning down to snatch his daggers out of their sheaths from his discarded pants as he did so, and bit off a sharp command. “Identify yourself!”

He glanced back at Erin. She'd scooted backward up to the teak headboard of the bed and sat with the sheet tucked under her arms, covering her chest and body but keeping her arms free and her hands held out, palms up, clearly ready to call her magic. She didn't look the least bit frightened.

Which ticked him off.

“Maybe you ought to be a little more concerned for your safety,” he said to her, then turned back to the door and shouted out a repeat of his earlier command. “I said, identify yourself!”

“Really? Am I in danger even in Atlantis?” Erin shot back at him. It was a reasonable question, and that ticked him off even more. But his instincts were shouting at him to protect and defend, and he was damn well going to do it.

Christophe's voice came through the door, and he sounded irritated. “Sorry, sorry. Alaric's warding knocked me on my ass for a minute. It's Christophe here. Conlan wants you to know that Alaric called a meeting. We're all supposed to gather at the Nereid Temple in about twenty minutes. Especially you and the witch.”

Ven strode over to the door and pulled it open just far enough that he could see out, but Christophe could not see into the room. “Her name is Erin.”

“Uh-huh,” Christophe said, jerking his head up and staring at the ceiling over the door so that he was looking anywhere but at what Ven had forgotten was his entirely naked body. “Maybe you could get dressed before you head over. I know I speak for us all when I say you're ugly enough with your clothes
on.
”

Ven slammed the door shut as Christophe stalked down the hall, laughing his damn fool ass off.

Erin looked like she couldn't decide whether to laugh or yell at him. Unfortunately for him, laughter lost out. She jumped out of the bed and started grabbing for her clothes. Ven spent about two seconds wondering what she was mad at him about and then lost his train of thought when she bent over and he got a perfect view of her extremely delectable ass.

“By the gods, you're beautiful,” he said, his body hardening at the sight of her flawless skin.

She abruptly stood up, her chest, neck, and face flushing red, and held her clothes in front of her. “I wasn't…that wasn't for your benefit. Anyway, I thought you realized by now that I am not a helpless female who will hide behind you every time there might be trouble. I am what your friend named me: a witch. And a pretty powerful one, too.”

His good mood disappeared, draining out of him in an instant. “Do not think to compare your ten years of dabbling in witchcraft with my nearly five centuries of battling vampires, shape-shifters, and the other creatures that stalk humans in the dark. You are in danger, and I will protect you.
That
is my
duty
, and I will carry it out with every ounce of skill and experience I possess.”

He yanked on his jeans and shirt while he spoke. She opened and closed her mouth once, then again, the fury sparkling in her eyes promising that when she did speak, she was going to flay the skin off his hide.

“Well, so the arrogant Atlantean royal shows himself,” she shot back at him. “Don't bother to waste the formal speak on me, bucko. I am
so
not impressed. Also, five
centuries
?”

A knock came at the door again, gentler than Christophe's pounding. He flung the door open. “What?”

The palace servant standing there with her arms full of clothing took a quick step back, bowing her head. “Your Highness, I apologize. I didn't know…Lady Riley asked…I can come back…”

Ven forced a smile. “No, I'm the one who should apologize, Neela. Thank you for your kindness. And please call me Ven.”

He took the pile of clothing that she handed him and tried to think past the emotion clouding his brain to reassure the woman. “How is your son? He must be nearly ten now?”

She beamed, maternal pride overcoming her anxiety. “He is to be twelve this season, Your High—…Ven. He brings much joy to our home.”

“And probably much exuberance, I'd guess, having once been a twelve-year-old boy, myself.”

Neela sighed a little, still smiling. “It is ever so. If you or the lady need anything else, please call me.”

“We will.”

As he closed the door again, he took a deep breath, steeling himself to face Erin.

“So you're not all lord and master of the castle all the time, are you?” she asked. “Is this something special you just pulled out for me?”

“No, I'm pretty much a pain in the ass all the time,” he said, turning around. “I don't really understand what I am with you.”

She stood there for a long moment and finally sighed. “Well, that makes two of us, because I don't recognize myself, either.”

Then she headed for the bathroom, leaving him to wonder what in the nine hells he'd gotten himself into.

 

The Nereid Temple was a faery tale of marble, jewels, and beauty. From the moment Erin walked through the doorway, her gems sang to her in a low, joyous tone that murmured of home and peace. Erin forced everything to do with missions and quests and stupid alpha male Atlantean warriors out of her mind and wandered around the open, airy main room, where Marie and her maidens had set up tables filled with a delicious breakfast. Fruits, juices, and pastries shared space with hot dishes in covered silver serving trays, and Erin's stomach growled at the delicious aromas.

But she was too fascinated with the history that was coming to life before her eyes to concentrate on food just yet. She sipped her coffee as she studied the statues gracing the room. Stopping before a particularly warlike figure bristling with spears and a trident, she felt a chill skate down her neck and knew who he must be.

She smelled a gentle mix of roses and something lighter an instant before Marie stepped up beside her. “Yes, it's Poseidon. Even here, in our temple where the Goddess holds sway, we are reminded that Poseidon holds the power of life or death over us.”

“Is it a reminder you need? I mean, not to tap dance on the obvious, but you are living in a bubble far down under tons of water with the force to crush you.”

Marie laughed. “You humans are refreshingly direct, if you and Riley are a representative sample.”

Erin turned to face her, stunned. “You've never met any humans before Riley and me?”

“No, I have not. Riley was the first human to enter Atlantis in more than ten thousand years.” Marie's beautiful face was a study in calm elegance, her dark blue eyes peaceful. Her midnight black hair was pulled back from her face in a series of intricate braids. “Thus far, Alaric has transported her to the human doctors, rather than bring them here.”

Erin nodded. “Ven told me that you're still deciding when to make the big ‘Atlantis exists' announcement.” She lifted a hand to her own unruly mass of wavy hair and sighed. “Not to be frivolous, but I wish my hair were more like yours.”

Marie smiled. “Your hair is lovely, Erin. It suits you.”

“Thanks, but I keep telling myself to get it all chopped off. Anyway, haven't you ever visited the surface? Come up to look around, catch a movie, go shopping?”

“Only the warriors are allowed to visit the landwalkers,” Marie said. “But I am planning to ask the Council to make an exception. My brother, Bastien, has formed the soul-meld with a shape-shifter female, and I wish to visit them and meet her.”

Erin tried to read the other woman's expression but couldn't. “What is the soul-meld? Sounds serious. Is it something like human marriage?”

Even before she saw the shocked glance Marie shot over her shoulder, Erin felt his approach. A low humming thrummed through her senses and her skin, and her emeralds trilled out a sweetly seductive call.

Marie's eyes widened. “Your gems sing for him, then? It is in the scrolls, but…we have never had a gem singer in our temple in living memory. Not since before the Cataclysm, in truth.”

Ven spoke from just behind Erin, his voice washing warmth and desire over her. Apparently the fact that she was pissed off at him had no effect on her gemstones or her hormones. “We haven't had time to discuss all the circumstances involved in this situation, Marie.” His voice held a clear note of warning.

Marie didn't appear to be intimidated. “The lady Erin was asking about the soul-meld. You must tell her, Lord Vengeance. It is her destiny.”

Even without seeing him, Erin sensed Ven's utter stillness at the words. “Destiny is an overused word, First Maiden. Erin has free will, as do I.”

Marie smiled, and there was something dark and knowing behind her eyes. “Do you?” Then she murmured some excuse and moved away, leaving Erin alone with Ven. She swung around to face him.

“So, spit it out, already. Soul-meld? What the heck is that?”

“This is not the time or place, Erin,” he said, his expression closed and cold. “And don't believe everything you hear.”

“I'm not stupid, Ven. We both felt something last night. Maybe you should explain exactly what it was? Was that the soul-meld? Or do Atlanteans always make love with all mental doors wide open like that?”

He was shaking his head before she finished the question, and he reached out to grasp her shoulders in his hands, then stared down into her eyes with his hot, penetrating gaze. “Never,
mi amara.
Never have I felt anything like that in all of my days. Do not think I take what occurred between us lightly.”

Shaken, she considered responses, and finally just nodded slowly.

“Erin, I—”

“Ven.” The voice that interrupted them was far too imperial to be anyone but the priest. “Your presence and that of your gem singer is required. Please take a seat.”

Ven snarled a response over his shoulder in that language she assumed was Atlantean, and everyone in the room seemed to take a collective sharp breath. Silence hung in the air for a moment, then Alaric spoke again, dry amusement in his voice. “I cannot think of a way to perform your…request, since it is anatomically impossible. However, if you would care to challenge me, Lord Vengeance, it would be my pleasure.”