Atlantis Unmasked Page 27
“Bad day?” Alexios asked mildly.
Alaric clenched his hands into fists at his sides, a faint blue-green light pulsing in an eerie halo around his skin, but then the meaning of Alexios’s words seemed to sink in, and he almost imperceptibly relaxed.
“You could say that.” The priest’s eyes were sunken deep into his head and he looked almost worse than the crazed panther shifter Alexios had trapped in a cell. Eddie. Which struck him as a ridiculous name for someone who turned into a lethal predator, but nobody had appointed Alexios as head guy in charge of names.
And now, even his brain was rambling.
“Do you need a break? Are you going to be up to this meeting? The Fae—”
Alaric snarled, and the power sizzling through the air ramped up a notch. “I don’t need you to tell me about the Fae, youngling,” he snapped.
Alexios held up his hands. “Sure, I’m not arguing with you. Don’t want to end up a dark splotch on the cement. But watch the youngling stuff—I’m only a hundred or so years younger than you.”
Alaric made that hideous snarling noise again, but this time his gaze had shifted, and his eyes had gone a flat silver. Alaric was in pure predatory mode, and Alexios was suddenly, hideously sure that he knew why.
“Grace,” he said, her name a prayer on his lips. “Please tell me you’re not threatening Alaric in any way.”
“I’m pointing my bow right at him, but it’s more of a precaution than a threat,” she replied. “You might want to back down, priest. I am a descendant of Diana and my goddess hunted your sea god in her day.”
For one horrible moment, Alexios was sure that Alaric was going to attack. Bow or not, Grace could have no real defense against him. So Alexios moved a little until he was blocking the priest’s view of her.
“Here’s the thing, Alaric. You are my friend, and I owe you a huge debt of gratitude that I will never, ever be able to repay,” he said, working hard to keep his voice calm and level. Trying to tame the savage beast that Alaric had somehow transformed into. “But I will not let you hurt my woman, so you’re going to have to go through me to get to her. Do you really want to do that?”
Alaric slowly, oh so slowly, turned, tilting his head as if he were hearing Alexios’s words from a long, long distance away. “No. No, I do not want to kill you or your woman,” he finally said and, although the word “kill” was disturbing, Alexios kept his calm face on and nodded.
“Okay, then. Grace, can you please put your bow down so we can all play nice? We need to figure out our plan for the Fae and Vonos, and there’s not much need to discuss battle strategy if we’re just going to kill each other and save them the bother.”
Suddenly Alaric’s face changed, contorting into a fierce grimace. “Injured. Bloody.”
Alexios nodded. “Jack called us and told us about Quinn. I’m so sorry. Is she okay?”
Alaric shook his head, his matted hair flying. “No. Not Quinn. Grace. Need to heal her. Now.”
Grace, who’d been walking up to join them, stopped short and mutinously shook her head. “No way is he touching me,” she said quietly, clearly thinking that only Alexios could hear her.
He could have told her not to bother.
“Yes way,” Alaric said, with a strange, flat intonation. “Now.”
Before Alexios or Grace could even move, Alaric leapt forward and caught her waist in his hands. Silvery blue light shot out from his fingertips and swirled around Grace like the bandages Alexios had wrapped her with, but far more helpful. Grace cried out, once, and then fell silent. Alexios tried to go to her but the healing light also served as a barrier and kept him away.
It was over in seconds, and Alaric stumbled back from Grace and then ran to the edge of the roof and leapt off. “Back soon,” he called out, and then he turned to mist and was gone.
Alexios jumped to Grace’s side and lifted her up from where she’d fallen on her ass on the ground. Her eyes held a curious mixture of fury and startled awe. “It doesn’t even hurt anymore,” she whispered. She unzipped her jacket with trembling hands and then pulled the edge of her shirt up and yanked the bandaging down from her wound.
From where her wound had been.
Now only clear, pale, and unmarked skin showed where the shifter’s claws had gouged her side. There wasn’t even a trace of a scar.
She turned her face up to his, eyes wide. “Why did he . . . I don’t understand. But I can’t believe he’s a monster when he went out of his way to do this.”
Alexios nodded, gently removing the bandaging. When he was done, she lowered her shirt and closed her jacket, shivering in the chill air of sunset. “Why?” she repeated.
“Maybe penance,” Alexios answered.
“Twenty minutes or so until we should leave for the meeting,” Grace reminded him, as if he needed to be reminded. “If he’s not here by then, we’ll have to leave without him. The last thing I need is for a Seelie Court prince to be angry with me.”
“We’ll give him as much time as we can,” Alexios said. “We don’t want Poseidon’s anointed priest angry with us, either.”
Grace laughed, though the sound of it was shaky. “Talk about being caught between a rock and a hard place.”
“Indeed,” Alaric said from behind them. “I would hesitate to ask which one you consider me to be.”
He was cleaned up and dressed in pristine clothes, though Alexios didn’t know how he’d accomplished it in such a short span of time.
“So now we go?” Alaric asked.
Grace tightened her grip on her bow. “So now we go.”
Alexios followed them down the stairs, saying nothing, realizing that there was absolutely nothing about this situation that he liked, and—worse—there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
Chapter 27
Grace looked around the beach where she’d first met Rhys na Garanwyn the week before and tried to ignore the chilling premonition shaking down her spine as simply a nasty case of déjà freaking vu. Tried to stop obsessively watching Alaric as he strode back and forth over the shell-speckled sand.
At the beach with a big, bad, and not so ugly? Check.
Seriously out of her league? Check.
But then Alexios touched her arm and all she could think was what a difference a week made. Then, she’d been alone and contemplating that final step. Sinking under the waves, never to surface. Finally to be able to rest, to release the burden of vengeance she’d taken up all those years ago.
Now, she was taking hesitant, baby steps into a future filled with light, warmth, and love. The last thing she wanted to do was risk her life yet again.
Not now.
And yet, here she found herself, between the proverbial rock and hard place she’d mentioned before.
Alexios bent down to whisper in her ear. “Don’t forget that I am a Warrior of Poseidon and channel the power of water. And do you remember what it is that can vanquish rock?”
She grinned. “Water can. But we don’t exactly have a couple of thousand years for erosion to do its magic if Rhys decides to turn us into bunny rabbits.”
“I think I might have something to say about that,” Alaric said dryly from the shadows.
“You’re not the only one,” Alexios said. He moved and she saw that he held his daggers. The Atlantean metal shone in the moonlight like shards of diamonds, as beautiful as it was deadly in his hands. She’d never known such a fierce warrior, yet somehow had never felt as safe as when she was in his presence.
It made no sense, but then again, neither did love. And she only had to look into his eyes or at his beautiful, scarred face to know that she’d already crossed over the line into love. The force of the realization literally knocked her back on her heels, and she stumbled.
Suddenly, some quality of the light changed, as if the moon herself blinked in surprise or Grace’s ancestress Diana rode her silver charger to the hunt across its surface. Alaric hissed in a breath, and Alexios moved away from Grace’s
right side so she could easily use her bow if needed. She smiled her thanks, but then focused on the shadows between the shadows, knowing that was where the next move would come from.
And of course it did. Rhys na Garanwyn appeared in a clearing between clumps of sea grass and briefly stood there, almost posing, and then stepped onto the beach.
Shockingly, Alaric yawned. It took Grace a moment to recognize the sound, since it was so unexpected. The highest Fae royalty except for the Seelie Court king and queen themselves made a command appearance, and the priest yawned?
When the Fae laughed, she realized that Alaric’s yawn had been a kind of posing, too.
“Ah, Alaric, you old fraud. Still playing at celibacy and other unnatural pursuits?” Rhys tilted his head, and his long fall of silver hair shimmered in the moonlight.
“Ah, Rhys, you old faery,” Alaric responded, all the boredom in the universe heavy in his voice. “Still need a haircut?”
It was so unexpected that Grace laughed before she could stop herself, then she slapped a hand to her mouth, horrified and expecting to be turned into a frog or tree or sea turtle at any moment.
Alexios casually put an arm around her shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Lord Garanwyn. I am Alexios, one of High Prince Conlan’s elite guard and Warrior of Poseidon. I understand you’ve already met my Grace.”
Grace realized instantly what Alexios was doing: claiming her as his own so that to kill her or harm her in any way would be to possibly provoke an international incident. Something the Fae always tried very hard to avoid.
Of course the elf realized it, too. He bared his teeth in what might have been meant as a smile. “Of course. Any descendant of Diana is a possible consort of mine.”
Alexios sighed heavily and muttered something that sounded like “here we freaking go again,” but she shot a warning glance at him and luckily he didn’t rise to the Fae’s bait.
“And here is my brother,” Rhys continued smoothly, gesturing to the beach behind them. Grace knew better than to fall for that trick, so she just grinned at him.
But then Alexios glanced over his shoulder and his body tensed. She slowly turned and found herself facing a mirror image of Rhys; dark where he was fair, cold and haughty where Rhys at least attempted the impression of seductive warmth.
“She is hardly worth the effort,” the newcomer said, flicking a contemptuous glance up and down Grace’s body. “These humans are dreadfully ugly, aren’t they?”
Grace shrugged. She had no argument with the comment; compared to any of the Fae, she probably looked like a squat toad. Their ethereal beauty was far beyond any human ability to achieve.
“This is my brother, Kal’andel,” Rhys said, and Kal’andel stalked forward, his black hair swinging out behind him. Together they were an art exhibit, the two Fae. Light and its photonegative, almost. But both had the cruel, calculating gaze of Fae royalty. That, at least, she had no trouble spotting.
Alaric subtly backed away until he and Alexios were flanking Grace, who didn’t appreciate the implication that she was not tough enough to handle them, but she wasn’t about to rock that particular boat.
“We’re here. What do you want?” Alaric was so blunt as to be rude, and she had a feeling he’d done it on purpose.
“We would like to offer a birth gift to the newborn Atlantean prince,” Rhys said.
His brother made a hissing sound. “No, we would not. This one is entirely on you, brother. I have no interest in pandering to these water dwellers or their kind.”
“A view that is shortsighted at the very least, Kal’andel,” Rhys said, his voice tightening just a fraction.
Evidently this was not a new argument for the brothers, but Grace really didn’t want to get caught in the middle of Fae sibling rivalry. “Maybe we could get to the alliance part,” she suggested.
Kal’andel leaned forward and, raising his head, actually sniffed the air. Grace had to resist the urge to check her deodorant.
“She doesn’t smell human,” he said, a faint look of surprise on his perfect, glowing features. “And she dares to interrupt her betters.”
“She’s human,” Alexios replied. “She doesn’t have any betters. And quit sniffing her. Can we get to the point already?”
Kal’andel snarled at Alexios, baring teeth that looked kind of sharp. Rhys smoothly took up the conversational thread, preempting whatever his brother had been about to do or say. “We would offer alliance, Atlanteans. Whatever ill-conceived plan the vampires are up to, it bodes ill for the rest of us. None but you have the strength to be anything like allies to us. We offer knowledge, battle skills, and strategy, in return for the secure knowledge of your alliance and commensurate efforts.”
Alaric looked, for one brief, terrible moment, as if he would throw their offer in their face. Grace even had time to wonder how bad she would smell as a frog. But of course Alaric time didn’t equal human time anyway. Almost before she could register the emotions flashing across his face, he was bowing to Rhys na Garanwyn and his brother, albeit somewhat sardonically. “I will return to Atlantis to discuss your request with Prince Conlan and his brother, the King’s Vengeance.”
Rhys bowed in return, although it was more of a nod, and then suddenly Grace and Alexios were alone on the beach with Rhys. Alaric and the dark Fae had both disappeared, seemingly into thin air.
“Should we worry about him?”
Alexios understood her immediately. “No, he’s fine. He sent me a message on the Atlantean mental pathway that he’s returning to Atlantis immediately to meet with the high prince and Ven.”
“But you’re still here,” Grace said to Rhys. “Which means you must want something else.”
“Actually, I have something to offer you. I understand there is a gem you desire, a yellow diamond known as the Vampire’s Bane,” he said.
“How did you know about that?” Alexios demanded.
“We will waste much time if you persist on trying to discover the source of all of my knowledge. Suffice it to say that I know.”
Alexios started to say something else, but Grace put a hand on his arm. “I hate to admit it, but he’s right. The Fae never reveal their sources, like some sort of twisted journalists. But he knows what he knows, and it would help us to know it, too.”
Alexios bared his teeth at Rhys na Garanwyn, but subsided. “Okay, tell us what you know.”
Rhys raised a single, silken eyebrow, and Grace had to bite her lip to keep from laughing again. She would bet that the Fae was not used to being ordered around in such a manner.
“Vonos is having a ball tomorrow night. He has invited every person of any worth to him, both political and material, in the state. We need to be at that ball,” Rhys said. “If you will come to Silverglen with me tonight, you will be able to rest in peace and safety, and then tomorrow we can prepare our strategy.”
Grace was shaking her head before the end of the sentence was out of his mouth. “No. I won’t go to the Fae lands. I know what happens to mere humans who get trapped in Silverglen. I don’t want to suddenly wake up and find out I’ve lost eighty years of my life.”
“I can protect you, Grace,” Alexios said. “It might be a good idea to find out what he wants.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to offer insult or be difficult. But my grandmother told me enough of the Fae that I have what I consider to be a healthy fear of spending any time in Silverglen.”
“Fine,” the Fae said, clearly annoyed. “I give my word you will not be harmed.”
“One thing is really not clear to me,” Alexios said slowly. “Why do you want to help us?”
“Other than the obvious—that it will be a good way to show faith as we begin a possible alliance?”
“Yeah, other than that,” Alexios drawled.
“The vampire has something he took from me centuries ago, and I mean to have it back,” Rhys said, an eerie golden light shining in his eyes.
“Okay, then,” Gra
ce said brightly, her senses warning her that something big, bad, and dangerous was near and not putting it past Rhys to have set them up in a trap. “If it’s yours, you should certainly have it. If we can help, just let us know. Need to go now. Meet you later, ’kay?”
Rhys sadly shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I really must insist that you stay here and remain safe.”
And then, before Grace or Alexios could move, he waved a hand and the inhumanly beautiful sound of Fae flutes sounded all around them.
Alexios pulled Grace into his arms just before she fell. “Damn it, I knew we should never trust the Fae,” he said, his words slurring.