Atlantis Unmasked (26 page)

“I fell into those flames myself tonight,
mi amara
,” he whispered. “I plunged into the lowest of the nine hells when I saw your blood. Never again, do you hear me? Never again.”

She knew she should argue, knew there was something wrong with what he'd said. But her side ached, and the warm darkness of sleep pulled at her.

Tomorrow. She'd figure it out tomorrow.

Alexios stood in the doorway for a very long time, content to watch her sleep. He hadn't expected the soul-meld. Hadn't been prepared for it. But now he found himself fiercely glad that it had occurred. Atlanteans never blindly followed destiny's chosen path. Personal choice was one of the most important tenets of their existence. And yet, somehow, he felt like all his choices had been circling down to center on this one beautiful, courageous human female, ever since the day he had met her.

He would kill anyone who ever again tried to harm her. She was his, and now all that was left to do was to make
her
believe it.

A quiet cough behind him alerted him to Tiny's presence. He was remarkably stealthy for such a big man. Alexios took one last long look at Grace and then headed toward Tiny.

“How is she?”

“She's exhausted, and possibly in shock. But she refused to seek medical attention or even to leave, so rest is the best thing for her right now.”

Tiny nodded, grinning. “She's fierce, that one. You're a lucky man.”

“I hope she thinks so, too,” Alexios said darkly. “Shall we patrol?”

“Coffee first,” the big man replied, still grinning. “Hey, if she
doesn't
think so, can I give her my number?”

Alexios glared at him and made a growling noise, deep in his throat, but Tiny just laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Just kidding. Sam already told me how it was between the two of you.”

Minutes later, with mugs of coffee in their hands, Alexios and Tiny stood on the parapet looking out at the deserted grounds surrounding the fort.

“I've got a half-dozen men with me, and they're stationed at every possible access point and a couple of the impossible ones.” Tiny pointed to a shadow that was just a little darker than the surrounding shadows down near the seawall and another next to the tall shot furnace that had once been used to heat cannonballs. “Those two are mine. We're looking high as well as low, in case these shifters have vampire backup. It'll be dawn soon, though, so at least then we'll only have to worry about attacks coming from one direction.”

“Unless the vampires have somehow managed to make contact with the raptor shifters,” Alexios said.

Tiny froze, his coffee mug scant inches from his lips. “Did you say raptor shifters? Are you freaking kidding me?”

“No, I'm definitely not kidding. Although we have not seen eagle, falcon, or hawk shifters in several centuries, that doesn't mean that they don't still exist. If the vampires manage to enthrall a flock of raptor shifters, that gives them an instant airborne army.”

“Flock? It's really called a flock?” Tiny gulped down the rest of his coffee and then started laughing. “Don't tell me. Let me guess. We've got possible geese shifters, too.”

Alexios just looked at him, puzzled. “No, why would there be geese? That would be ridiculous. Shifters are almost always predatory species.”

“Makes sense. Darwinism and all. After all, what could geese do? Throw goose shit at people? Although, come to think of it, that would be pretty nasty.”

“I must admit that I often can't understand you humans at all,” Alexios said, shaking his head.

For some reason, his comment occasioned a fresh burst of laughter from Tiny. Still shaking his head, Alexios continued walking the circle of the rooftop, constantly scanning for any sign of movement or approach.

He thought of Grace, lying injured on her bed on the floor below, and his fingers tightened around the mug. He needed Alaric.

He needed Alaric here
now
, not off on some hopeless quixotic chase after Quinn. He put the mug on the floor at his feet and then stood up and raised his hands into the air in order to help him call the energy that would power the Atlantean mental pathway between he and Alaric. This type of communication came more easily to some than others; it had never been effortless for him. But then again, he'd never had such need.

Alaric, if you can hear me, answer me now. I have need of you—Grace is injured and needs your healing. Come now
.

He slowly lowered his hands, waiting—hoping—for some sign, but there was nothing. Pride gave way to desperate longing, and he added the word he had so rarely used.

Please
.

But still there was nothing. An empty silence instead of a response.

Either Alaric was out of range or he had chosen not to respond. Both options were unacceptable. A perfect storm of helpless rage swept through Alexios, until he had to let it out or explode. He threw back his head and roared out his fury to the stars and the night sea. Grace had been hurt—she could have died—and there had been nothing he could do about it.

He fell to his knees on the hard, cold concrete and let his head drop forward, unknowing and uncaring if Tiny or any of his men were witnesses to his breakdown. The terror of almost losing her drove sharp teeth into his spine and shook him the way the panther had shaken Smith earlier, until he felt he must break apart into splinters, fractured by the fear and pain and rage.

A voice scratched at the edges of his mind, growing more and more insistent. A voice he knew—its familiarity was breaking through the rise of the war drums in his mind. A voice he knew, but it wasn't Alaric.

Are you going to answer me, or am I going to have to come up there and thump your head against a wall?
The voice in his head was rich with amusement, but also threaded with concern.
Remember, I can easily kick your ass for you. Hells, my
woman
can kick your ass for you
.

Relief washed through Alexios like a cooling wave over burning sand. It was Bastien.
Thank Poseidon
.

Alexios watched the sun rising over the horizon and stretched, finally feeling like he could take a deep breath for the first time all night. One of his oldest friends and fellow warriors was on the way, so it didn't matter that the portal still refused to answer his call. Bastien was one of the Seven, and he was bringing Ethan and Kat, both panther shifters and, according to Bastien, far more lethal than any Alexios could have faced the night before.

Ethan is alpha,
Bastien had explained.
You'll have to see for yourself what that means, but trust me when I tell you he has nothing to do with these attacks
.

Bastien wasn't much better than Alexios at the use of the Atlantean communication path over long distances, so it had been a very short conversation. But, even now, Bastien, Ethan, and Kat were on the way to St. Augustine from Ethan's home and headquarters near Miami. Bastien has said to give him an hour; the shifters couldn't travel as mist or through water portals.

Alexios hadn't thought to ask Bastien if the portal to Atlantis was cooperating with him. The portal's magic was capricious, and it seemed to open and close according to some rules it never bothered to disclose.

The portal was older than Atlantis and older than any written record of history, so not even the elders, the scroll keepers, or the scholars fully understood how or why it functioned as it did. A thought occurred to him, surprising in its unexpectedness. What if the portal considered itself a protector of Atlantis? There was no question that it was sentient; what if it knew the prince and heir was born and wanted to protect the vulnerable infant?

Perhaps. Of course, as had been true for more than eleven thousand years, there was no way to know. Maybe Keely would be able to use her archaeological skills or her object-reader magic and uncover some of the secrets surrounding the origin of the Seven Isles. But, until then, the portal's magic was just another of the many mysteries Atlanteans grew to accept and abide by.

Tiny called out, and Alexios turned to see the man shaking hands with Grace. Alexios stood, unmoving, warmth spreading through his chest like the unfurling rays of a sea star. Just to be able to watch her, even from a distance, felt like a precious gift.

He would make her his, and soon. He couldn't continue to draw breath if he didn't. But until then, the anticipation was enough. It would have to be enough.

Grace laughed at something Tiny said, and then she glanced up and caught sight of Alexios. Something tangible sizzled through the air between them, as if she'd aimed one of the arrows from her quiver straight at him.

He closed his eyes, shaking his head. Great. Arrows and quivers. Next
he'd
be the one singing “Feelings.” She was turning him into some kind of wimp.

Ven would have a field day.

He opened his eyes when he heard her footsteps approaching, and the smile spread across his face in spite of himself. She was so unbelievably beautiful.

His smile faded. So beautiful, and so far out of his league.

She'd showered and changed into a dark green shirt and clean pair of blue jeans. Her hair lay in long damp strands on the shoulders of her leather jacket. It suddenly occurred to him that he'd never seen her in anything but jeans. Not that he was complaining, but he wondered what she'd look like in Atlantean silk.

She tilted her head and smiled up at him, but there was a measure of reserve in her expression. Distance. “That was an interesting smile,” she said “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Trust me, they are not worth nearly so much.” He lifted a hand to touch her face but she moved, almost imperceptibly, but enough so that she turned away from him and stood staring out at the sunrise. He let his hand fall back down to his side, while his heart sank to the vicinity of his boots.

So. He wasn't the only one who'd decided she was out of his league, perhaps. He shoved his hands into his pockets, ready to walk away.

But injured pride gave way to honesty. He'd seen inside Grace's soul last night, and nowhere had there been arrogance or presumption. Maybe this was just a healthy dose of caution.

“What happens next?” She glanced back at him. “Tiny said Sam was contacting Smith's and Reynolds's families. It was something I should have done myself, but Sam said he has way too much experience at this horrible duty.”

Alexios nodded. “He would have. He was a soldier and a leader of men. With that responsibility comes many terrible obligations.”

She lifted her chin. “Do you think I'm falling down on mine?”

“No, I do not. I think that Sam is older than you, and so his presence will likely be more of a comfort to the families. Part of leadership is knowing when to delegate.”

She brushed her hair back from her face and sighed. “Maybe that's true. But Sam didn't give me a chance to delegate before he took it on himself. He was trying to protect me, just like you do.
Everybody
does, even though I'm supposed to be the one protecting the men and women under my command. There's something wrong in that.”

Before he could think of an argument she would accept, a loud thundering noise to the south caught their attention. Approaching low, at a height that surely must violate human flight regulations, a sleek helicopter zoomed toward them. Alexios immediately put himself between it and Grace, and she shoved him with her left arm.

“That's what I'm talking about,” she said, almost shouting to be heard.

Before Alexios could explain why he would never, ever stop protecting her—or else forget explanations and just throw her over his shoulder and start running—Bastien's voice sounded in his head.