Halloween in Atlantis: Poseidon's Warriors Read online

  HALLOWEEN IN ATLANTIS

  POSEIDON’S WARRIORS

  ALYSSA DAY

  ALYSSA DAY

  CONTENTS

  Dedication

  Alyssa Day

  The Warrior’s Creed

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Thank you!

  Excerpt: Alejandro’s Sorceress by Alyssa Day

  Other Books by Alyssa – find more information HERE.

  About the Author

  PART I

  DEDICATION

  for Jaime Fierro, who always loved Liam best…

  ALYSSA DAY

  Would you like to know when my next book is available? You can sign up for my new release e-mail list at http://www.alyssaday.com/home

  THE WARRIOR’S CREED

  The Warrior's Creed:

  We will wait. And watch. And protect.

  And serve as first warning on the eve of humanity's destruction.

  Then, and only then, Atlantis will rise.

  For we are the Warriors of Poseidon, and the mark of the Trident we bear serves as witness to our sacred duty to safeguard mankind.

  1

  Atlantis

  LIAM POINTED his dagger at the glowing orange object that stared menacingly up at him, its teeth bared in a snarl. “Stand back, Eric. I’ll kill it. Considering the unbelievable mutants that swarmed here during the demon infestation, we have no idea what this might be.”

  The small boy following him edged back and away from the rocks that formed a barrier between the wild grasses and the pounding surf. “Is it a demon, Liam? Are we in danger? Should I go protect the little prince?”

  Liam’s lips quirked up in a smile that he quickly suppressed. The youngling hadn’t reached his tenth birthday, and yet his first thought was to protect others. It wouldn’t do to let him think Liam was mocking him.

  “I don’t think it’s a demon, but better to take no chances, in case it’s unfriendly magic. It might be a spell-trap, or an evil charm, or--"

  “A fruit. It’s actually just a fruit,” said a decidedly feminine and somewhat exasperated-sounding voice. “And if you kill my jack-o’-lantern, I might have to hurt you.”

  It was her. Of course it was her. Liam couldn’t believe he hadn’t felt her approach in his nerve endings, or just beneath his skin, where she seemed most often to lodge.

  He sheathed the dagger, took a deep breath, and turned to face the most annoying, irritating, and, if he were honest with himself—and he always tried to be, in spite of his family—the most intriguing human he’d ever met.

  It didn’t help that she was so beautiful. Or that the purple dress she wore wrapped around her curvy body like a lover’s caress.

  “Why is your fruit glowing?” he demanded, and immediately felt like a fool. Behind him, Eric snickered.

  “It’s a pumpkin,” Jaime said in a long-suffering voice, her fascinating chocolate brown eyes sparkling with what was no doubt amusement at his expense. “A jack-o’-lantern. A simple and traditional Halloween decoration. We carve interesting things into them and then put candles inside, so they glow and look pretty for Halloween parties.”

  She was explaining the fruit, and he knew he should listen, but she was just so damn easy to look at. Silky dark hair, the ends tipped with an unnatural but enticing purple, fell in careless waves around her face. Those amazing eyes, set in an arresting face that was all honey-golden skin and kissable red lips.

  Kissable?

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. He needed to head for the training grounds and go a few rounds with one of Poseidon’s new warrior trainees. An hour or two of hard exertion might clear his brain, which had seemed to malfunction whenever he’d been around this woman during the month she’d been on Atlantis.

  He looked at her again. That luscious body with curves a man could hold on to while he . . .

  Maybe he’d need three hours at the training grounds.

  He shook his head to clear it. What he’d seen as a potential threat wasn’t a demon at all. It was a, what did she call it? A jack-o’-lantern. Liam felt like a fool.

  The feeling wasn’t new, which made it all the more grating.

  “Inviting humans to Atlantis in such high numbers was a mistake,” he said, putting ice in his tone. “It is nearly impossible to maintain the proper security for the royal family, when hordes of unknown people and their--"

  “Fruit?” She smiled sweetly and then pretended to cringe. “Oh, no, protect me, Liam! A flying banana is heading my way!”

  Everything in him stilled. She was . . . she was teasing him. He, the son and heir to the worst bunch of petty criminals that Atlantis had probably ever known—the one man that mothers had always hid their daughters from. Now that he was grown, even as one of Poseidon’s warriors and King Conlan’s elite guard, Atlantean women treated him like the low-born trash his family had always been. Almost always, if what Keely had told him about a long-dead high priest, Nereus, being his ancestor. But this woman—this beautiful, maddening human—was teasing him, and her eyes were sparkling up at him with amusement, not malice.

  Liam had learned the difference between the two very well over the course of a lifetime lived in the shadow of his family’s misdeeds.

  She was teasing him, and he was in a great deal of trouble, because he wanted to beg her not to stop. He took a step closer, almost involuntarily drawn to her, and her eyes widened. He glanced down at her parted lips and had to force himself not to dip his head and taste them.

  “If you like fruit, I can introduce you to Atlantean blushberries,” he murmured, for her ears only, although he could see that Eric had become bored and was wading in the surf a dozen paces away. “I’ve heard that they have certain aphrodisiacal properties, when consumed with the right wine.”

  Jaime’s breath seemed to stutter as she looked up at him; both of them frozen in the moment. She put a hand up as if to touch his chest, but then hastily shoved it in the pocket of her pants. “As if you’d need aphrodisiacs, looking like that,” she muttered.

  He started laughing before he even realized he was doing it. “So you like how I look? I can assure you, the feeling is mutual.”

  She backed up a pace, shaking her head. Her hair swept her shoulders in a flurry of chestnut and purple waves that he wanted to touch. Wanted to see spread over his pillows.

  Jaime raised a hand to her mouth. He was suddenly struck by a twinge of jealousy that it was her fingers touching her lips, not his, and he realized he was quite possibly losing his mind right here in front of the fruit. He had enough problems trying to overcome his family’s legacy and prove himself. The last thing he needed was to fall in love.

  “Your eyes are glowing, Liam,” she whispered. “That can’t be good.”

  2

  Jaime Radcliffe took a deep breath of the crisp, salty ocean air and suddenly realized that she might be in actual danger. She’d deliberately teased this man—this Atlantean warrior—with no thought of consequences or repercussions. She’d only been in Atlantis for six weeks; in fact, the entire world had only known Atlantis even existed for not much longer than that. She’d been excited and honored to have been chosen as the queen’s first party planner, and she’d been unbelievably thrilled to get the chance to see this land that had risen from deep beneath the ocean and straight out of legend into the world landscape. Walking around the palace grounds and staring at anci
ent, delicate and graceful marble spires on buildings that looked like they belonged on a movie set had been an amazing adventure.

  Not to mention, it had been a great time to get out of town and away from yet another in a long string of disappointing boyfriends. This one had decided, after only three months of dating, that it might be a good idea for him to quit his job and become her “partner” in the business.

  Her partner. In a business she’d spent five years building.

  Her exact words had been “not in this lifetime,” and that had been the end of him. She hadn’t missed him at all, which told her an uncomfortable amount about how much she’d cared about him in the first place. No matter. He was history, and she was currently living in a place that was real history and myth all rolled up into one beautiful, unbelievable package: Atlantis. The lost continent. City of dreams, long thought to have been nothing more than a teaching example made up by Plato on a particularly imaginative day.

  But it was real. And so was Liam. And reading the Atlantis informational packet, with its overview of Atlantean laws and traditions, had done nothing to prepare her for an up-close and personal confrontation with this man. Maybe teasing one of Poseidon’s warriors was a hanging offense, or she’d be forced to walk the plank at sundown. Not that this was a ship, but, wow, the man was frying her brain cells.

  This man. He was unlike anyone she’d ever met before. Sure, he had the typical Atlantean tall, dark, and gorgeous thing going on, but Liam was . . . different. Something about him had caught her attention from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. Queen Riley had called him over to introduce them, and he’d stalked toward them from across the garden, all grace and power and pure, primal male. Jaime’s mouth had dried out, and she’d almost tripped over her own tongue, just trying to say hello. And, if she hadn’t been mistaken, there’d been a gleam of amusement or maybe sympathy in the queen’s eyes after Liam had gone.

  Riley had smiled. “I had the same reaction to Conlan when I met him. They can be somewhat overwhelming, can’t they?”

  Jaime had nodded, remembering a snippet of fact from somewhere that the queen had been—still was? —human. “He’s certainly that,” she’d agreed, staring at Liam’s delectable backside as he’d walked away. “Oh, boy.”

  And now, the man’s eyes were glowing. Glowing. Deep, ocean-drowning blue, touched with liquid silver, as if his eyes were lit up from within like one of her jack-o’-lanterns. He was well over six feet of thickly muscled, deadly warrior, and his eyes were glowing with heat and danger. She should be scared to death.

  Instead, she wanted to climb him like a tree and lick the side of his neck. Well, sure, he was spectacularly gorgeous, like every other Atlantean warrior she’d met, but there was just something more when she looked at him. Black, silky hair fell in waves to his collar, framing a fallen-angel face that must cause every woman on the formerly lost continent to fantasize about him. That warrior body, with broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and powerful legs, currently encased in dark pants, a carelessly tucked-in white long-sleeved shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and leather boots, was enough to make any woman take a second look.

  And a third, and a fourth . . .

  It was the humor in his eyes that had caught her, though. That, and the kindness. That was all Liam, and it was perhaps what made it so hard for her to ignore him. But he was Danger with a capital D, not at all the type of man she usually went for. Her type was sweet and funny and nice.

  And lets you boss him around, she thought, feeling a guilty.

  No, that couldn’t be true. She wasn’t bossy. She was an event organizer. It was her career. She had to be organized.

  So, she made lists. Lots and lots and lots of lists. Better to make lists and get things done than be the kind of person who falls into bed with the first Atlantean warrior who made her nipples tingle just by looking at her with his glowing eyes.

  “Oh, boy,” she said, sighing and trying to think of anything else but tingling. “You, um, I—I’m sorry I teased you. I don’t really want to walk the plank.”

  He tilted his head, but at least the glow in his eyes was fading, and she was almost positive he was fighting a smile. “What in the nine hells are you talking about?”

  Even his voice was sexy, and parts of her that hadn’t tingled in a very long time woke up and noticed. Which was bad. Very bad.

  “You have nine hells? We only have one. Um, never mind. The party is starting in only a few hours, and I have to finish placing the jack-o’-lanterns,” she babbled, wondering what had happened to calm, organized, Jaime, the most unflappable event organizer in Chicago. This was her, being flappable. Very flappable. Flapped, even.

  She groaned.

  “I can’t do you right now. Do this! I can’t do this,” she said, feeling her face catch on fire.

  He leaned closer, and all the oxygen in the world disappeared. “Oh, you sweet, sexy human. I promise that I am looking forward to the time when you can do me, as you put it.”

  “Pumpkins,” she blurted out, when it looked like he was going to kiss her. “I need to get these pumpkins unloaded.”

  “Pumpkins?”

  She pointed to a motorized cart, like a golf cart but with a bed in the back like a pickup truck. “Pumpkins. I have to go. Put jack-o’-lanterns all over the place. For the party.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Focus. She needed to quit lusting over the hot Atlantean and get on with things.

  But then she felt his arms go around her waist and her brain short-circuited. Her eyes flew open and he was right there. In front of her. Staring down at her, laughter and something else in his expression.

  Heat. The heat of a man who wanted her, and this had nothing to do with magic or glowing or anything else. This was wanting, pure and simple, and it tugged at her until she wanted to wrap herself around his body and cling to him.

  Naked.

  “I need to distribute the pumpkins,” she said instead, practically hyperventilating. This was why she’d tried to hide every time she’d seen him around since she’d been on Atlantis. Somehow, she’d known he’d be dangerous to her.

  “Fruit again. You’re obsessed with fruit, I think,” he said, not bothering to hide the slow, predatory smile that spread across his incredible face. “I’d rather you were obsessed with me.”

  “I need--"

  He cut her off, his eyes filled with what looked like bewilderment. “I need, too. I don’t understand it, but you make me need. And want. Things that probably aren’t good for me; things that I can never have. I don’t even know you yet, but you make me want.”

  The stark confession tore at something inside her. Looking into his eyes, she almost thought she could glimpse an aching void of loneliness, just for an instant.

  “You make me want, too,” she admitted. It was a moment out of time; a moment that needed honesty.

  A flash of purely masculine triumph crossed his face, and then he bent his head to hers. “Then let us taste what is between us, just for a moment.”

  Her laugh was shaky. “Yeah, okay. Maybe we can get it out of our systems.”

  His smile faded. “I don’t think so.”

  And then he took her mouth, and gravity stopped working.

  Electricity sparked between them, inside her, around her. The heat of his big, hard body against hers, the touch of his skin, the taste of his mouth—it all overwhelmed her with sensation. Someone was moaning, and she thought it might be her, but she didn’t even care; she clutched at his shoulders, trying to get closer, needing to get closer, to climb inside him and curl up, wrapped in the sensual heat of his kiss.

  Liam’s hands were suddenly on her butt, pulling her even closer, and she twined her hands into his hair, touching his head, his face, his neck, while he kissed her in a way she’d never been kissed before.

  Heat seared through her; heat and need, heat and want. She moaned again, against his lips, and he made a low, growling sound that shud
dered through her body like an earthquake.

  He finally raised his head and stared down at her, and both of them were breathing hard, like they’d been running. It occurred to Jaime that it was exactly what she should be doing. Running. As fast and as far as she could, to get away from this man who had sliced through her defenses like a sword through a pumpkin.

  Laughter bubbled out of her. “Oh, wow, that’s it. You’re a fruit ninja.”

  3

  Liam’s sense exploded with the feel of the delightfully unpredictable woman in his arms, and with the spicy, flowery scent of her hair and skin. He wanted nothing more than to carry her off to a private place and touch and taste every inch of her wonderfully sexy body.

  “Yuck!”

  Liam glanced over his shoulder and saw Eric running back toward the palace, probably disgusted with tagging along behind a warrior uncle who wasn’t behaving very warrior-like. He grinned ruefully but let his nephew go. The boy was probably meant to be home doing chores, anyway.

  Or learning how to pick pockets, knowing Liam’s brother.

  “Liam?” She was looking at him with her beautiful brown eyes, and—this close to her--he could see fascinating flecks of gold in them.

  She probably wanted him to talk. Women usually did. He only wanted to kiss her again, but she seemed to expect some response to her confusing comment about the fruit ninjas.

  “I am one of Poseidon’s warriors, not a ninja. We have encountered ninjas, and they are usually much shorter than me.”

  She laughed even harder.

  “Why is that funny?”

  She started to respond, but then glanced at the silver watch on her wrist and gasped. “Oh, no! Liam, I am completely off schedule. Please, you have to let me go. I can’t mess this up. There are more than a thousand people showing up for this party, and it has to go perfectly for the queen. My professional reputation is on the line and, more than that, I really like her.”