Heart of Atlantis wop-8 Read online

  This is it, Quinn, my beloved, my life, he sent to her. If I survive this, I will never leave you again.

  She sent back no words, but simply a wave of courage and reassurance and warmth—she enveloped him in her love, and it gave him the courage to do what he almost certainly would not survive.

  He put his hands around the throat of a goddess.

  “You dare to touch me! I will kill you all,” Anubisa screamed in his face, and a blast of such twisted, black, and powerful magic smashed into him that he very nearly lost his grip on her as she hissed, clawed, and fought him.

  She regenerated her arm with little effort and swung out at the princes, but Conlan easily ducked her spear this time.

  “Good-bye, Anubisa,” Conlan said. “You are done. This is for my mother, and for seven long, wasted years.”

  With that, Conlan pushed Alaric to the side and plunged his sword into Anubisa’s heart.

  “This is for my mother, and for the lifetime I missed with my brothers,” Justice said, and he plunged his sword into her neck.

  “This is for all of our family over the last five thousand years who suffered because you didn’t know how to take rejection,” Ven said, and he shoved his dagger into her gut.

  Her black, black blood spattered across the marble floor like macabre patterns of evil traced on a pristine scroll, and she screamed and screamed, calling so much dark power to her that Alaric knew she’d be able to heal her wounds and escape them before long.

  He had only a single recourse available to him, and he had no way to know if he’d survive it.

  He must use the Trident.

  He leapt into the air, shot over to the pedestal, and dared to borrow the greatest power object of the sea god to whom he had once, so long ago, sworn his life.

  “I call upon you for assistance, in the name of Poseidon, and in the name of Atlantis,” he told the Trident, making the words both plea and command.

  And, by all the gods, the Trident heard and responded.

  It leapt into his hand, and Alaric whirled around and plunged its tip into Anubisa’s body. The Trident blazed up with a corona of pure, silver-blue energy—power that nearly seared Alaric’s skin off the bones of his hand where he held it. Power that no mere mortal was meant to wield rushed through him, and he shouted as the vampire screamed.

  The room lit up with the glow of the Trident’s magic, and Alaric was sure he would either explode or die from trying to channel it, because there was too much—far, far too much. It was pure, ocean-based life force—it rang with the song of the whales; it danced with the joy of the dolphins. It soared with the majesty of all sea creatures in Poseidon’s dominion, and Alaric’s body shook with the power of its mystery and majesty.

  It was life force, and as such, it was anathema to a vampire, especially one who claimed to be a goddess of death.

  Anubisa glowed a bright, terrifying blue, and light streamed from her eyes and nose and mouth and ears, and then she screamed and begged as the Trident stripped her magic, her powers, and, finally, her beauty from her, leaving her a shriveled, wasted creature lying on the ground.

  They stood in a loose circle around Alaric and Anubisa—Conlan, Ven, and Justice—impassive, weapons ready, and they watched the monster who had tortured the Atlantean royal family for millennia as she died.

  Alaric yanked the Trident from her skeleton and replaced it on its pedestal after cleansing it with a burst of purifying water magic, which took the very last ounce of his energy. Channeling the power of the Trident had exhausted him, and he had no idea when—or if—his magic would replenish, but he decided that must be a worry for another time.

  “Atlantis is safe, and I have you to thank for it,” Conlan said to Alaric, reaching out an arm to clasp his friend’s.

  “Thanks for the help,” Justice told Alaric. “We were afraid we were done for.”

  Together, the four of them walked around Anubisa’s body to stare at the Trident, now resting silently on its cushion but still glowing with barely contained power.

  Ven whistled. “I can’t believe you used that thing without getting blown up.”

  “Nor can I,” Alaric confessed.

  “Do you think Poseidon even knows Atlantis has risen?” Conlan asked.

  A tiny sound alerted them to movement far too late for any of them to do anything about it, and the bolt of black magic smashed them all to the floor, face-first.

  “He won’t know until you are all dead,” Anubisa shrieked.

  Alaric raised his head to see a creature from a nightmare—all bones and melted flesh—hovering behind them, prepared to fire a death blow of magic, and Alaric called to magic that would not answer.

  He’d burned out his powers wielding the Trident, and now his mistake would cost them all their lives.

  No. Not Quinn. He reached deep inside himself for a reserve that he couldn’t have guessed he had, and he came up swinging a sword of pure silver light. From seemingly out of nowhere, a small form came running across the floor toward Anubisa at the exact same time, firing bullet after bullet into the vampire.

  “I think not,” Quinn shouted.

  When Anubisa whipped her head toward Quinn, Alaric’s blade sliced in an arc of flashing silver fire, and the vampire goddess’s head flew through the air.

  Anubisa’s body, separated from her head, melted into a spiral of oily black smoke and then disappeared.

  Alaric strode over to Quinn, who dropped the gun on the floor in a clatter of metal on marble.

  “Your excellent distraction saved our lives,” Alaric said, and then he lifted her into his arms and kissed the very breath out of her.

  “I think it was your magic that saved our lives, and all of Atlantis,” she replied, when she could talk again.

  “We all did it,” Alaric said, looking around the room. “Together.”

  Conlan walked over to Anubisa’s head, which was slowly disintegrating against the wall. “If I were one of my ancestors, I’d display this on a pike on the castle walls.”

  “She’d deserve it,” Justice snarled.

  “But who wants to look at her ugly mug?” Ven said. “I’m going to go find my woman, if we’re done fighting demons and vampires and any freaking other thing that might want a piece of us.”

  “Your woman?” Erin said, entering the room. “Really? We’ve been looking for you for half an hour.” She looked around the room. “Why are you here? Taking a break?”

  “They killed a vampire,” Riley said, walking into the room holding Aidan.

  “To be fair, it was the vampire. Anubisa is finally dead. And we killed a demon and all his brothers, too,” Ven said, pulling Erin into his arms.

  Keely ran into the room and headed straight for Justice. “Don’t you ever, ever do that again.”

  “Do what?”

  “Nearly die. I could feel it,” she said, before kissing him.

  “It wasn’t on purpose. But now we feel like we can sleep without tainted dreams again,” Justice told Keely. “We can’t believe she’s finally dead.”

  “Who’s cleaning this up?” Erin wanted to know, gesturing to the two oily black stains on the floor, which were all that was left of Anubisa’s head and body.

  “Since when is Alaric super-light-up man?” Keely asked.

  “Later,” Quinn promised. “Do we still have more vampires to kill?”

  Keely shook her head, her red hair flying. “Nope. Anubisa must have been controlling them, because just about the time you must have been killing her, the rest of them melted and vanished. All of them. The only live vampire left on Atlantis is Daniel, and trust me, he killed his share of Anubisa’s minions.”

  “He, too, has a special reason to hate her,” Alaric said.

  “Past tense,” Quinn pointed out. “He had a special reason, because the wicked vampire goddess is dead!”

  Alaric caught her when she leapt into his arms, and he turned and headed out.

  “Don’t call me, and don’t knock o
n our door for at least twenty-four hours,” he called back over his shoulder.

  “You said ‘our’ door,” Quinn said, smiling.

  “You don’t think you’re getting away from me now, do you? After I saw you with that sword? I’m thinking hedge trimmer for a new job. You’d be great in a floppy hat,” Alaric said, laughing down at her.

  As they left the palace and he launched himself into the air, heading for the window of his rooms in the temple, she considered what he’d said.

  “I don’t really like floppy hats. I’m more fashionable than that.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Quinn, you are the most beautiful woman in the world to me, and I love you, but you look like you find your clothing in a homeless person’s trash can.”

  “I guess you don’t want me to buy a red bra and panties, then,” she said, lowering her eyelashes and peeking up at him through them. “Am I seducing you yet?”

  He groaned and flew faster. “I should have told them not to disturb us for forty-eight hours. Or three weeks.”

  “You have to bring me food this time,” she said, practical to the last. “I’ll need my energy to keep up with you.”

  Power flooded back into him as his magic recharged under the welcome sight of the moon over Atlantis, shining brightly on his people after so many thousands of years. His body began to glow again, and she smiled.

  “You’re lighting up. Does that mean my feminine wiles are working? If I even have feminine wiles,” she said, laughing. “I think they got rusty over the past decade.”

  “Your wiles are more than sufficient to make me want to drive my cock inside you and never stop until you scream,” he said sincerely, bending down to fasten his lips around her nipple right through her shirt. The power surged through him and into her body, and she moaned.

  “Can’t you go any faster?”

  He flew through the window, tossed her on his bed, and ripped her clothes from her lovely, perfect body, while she frantically tore at his pants, finally succeeding in pulling them off.

  “Please, please, please,” she said, and she wrapped her hand around his erection.

  It was his turn to moan.

  He was thrusting into her body within seconds. She was screaming his name soon after.

  He was going to be the happiest damn gardener in the history of the world.

  Chapter 35

  It wasn’t twenty-four hours, after all. It was more like three days. Every time Alaric touched Quinn, his mind rebelled at the idea of letting the outside world anywhere near them just yet.

  When he kissed her, she tasted like hope. Hope for a future that didn’t involve swords or death. Hope for happiness and love.

  He pulled her closer to him and stroked the curve of her hip, marveling anew at the texture of her skin. It was pale luminescence in the moonlight, softer than the finest Atlantean silk. Warm and delicate; tantalizing him with delight. His fingers traced the tip of her breast, and she shivered in response.

  That had been a wondrous surprise to him—that his fierce rebel warrior woman would be so sensual in his bed. He lowered his head to kiss her nipple, and she gasped a little.

  “Tell me you want me,” he demanded, raising his head to look into her eyes, his voice low and rough. He needed to hear the words, even though her body showed him the evidence. “Tell me again and again.”

  “I do want you, you know I do,” she said, her eyes darkening. “I want you more than I ever knew was possible.”

  She bit the curve of his neck, and need swamped him. Need and white-hot desire. He touched her cheek and wondered that this complex, enticing, incredible woman could truly be his.

  He was home. Forever.

  * * *

  Quinn laughed a little as Alaric’s eyes began to glow a hot emerald green. She’d never have to wonder if he wanted her. He broadcast his passion as strongly as his other emotions. She wanted him again and again and always. He was refuge and respite and release. He was love.

  She opened her lips and her body to him and kissed him, tasting his mouth and tongue, and teasing him by nibbling at his bottom lip gently. His hard body shook in her arms, and she gloried in the feel of knowing he was losing control, even as she herself began to tremble.

  Any remaining barriers between them dissolved as the magic of the soul-meld and the simpler, far older magic of love swirled around and through them, adding an edge of fierce intensity to their touch. She caressed the muscular line of his shoulder and then his chest, and he caught his breath when she traced her tongue over one flat nipple.

  “I cannot get enough of your touch,” he said. “Never. I might not ever let you leave my bed.”

  She laughed a little, but then she allowed her hand to roam lower until she grasped the hard length of his erection. “I may never let you leave. Did you ever consider that, my bossy Atlantean?”

  His body tensed, and he pulled her even closer. “You have an hour to stop touching me like that,” he said, grinning that deliciously wicked grin.

  “I never knew it could be like this,” she blurted out, honesty making her clumsy. “I never knew.”

  “Nor did I,” he said, and then he kissed her until she couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything but the whirlwind of passion between them.

  “But if I had known, I would have come after you a lot sooner,” he said firmly.

  Her laughter faded as he rolled over and settled his body over her.

  “I find that I need to be inside you now. Do you agree?”

  She wrapped her legs around him and guided him to her, sighing as he slowly entered her, inch by glorious inch. “I agree.”

  He thrust ever so slowly in and out of her, over and over, until she thought she’d go mad with frustrated desire.

  “More,” she urged, digging her fingers into his lovely, firm butt.

  He grinned down at her, but the strain of maintaining control was showing on his face. “More what? I’m a simple warrior. You’ll have to tell me what you want. Explicitly.”

  She felt her cheeks flame hot, but she was a rebel leader. A fighter. A strong woman. She could surely be a little brazen. She whispered in his ear exactly what she wanted him to do, and she made sure to use the words “hard” and “strong” and “deep.”

  Alaric lost all restraint, and he almost lost his mind. To hear such delightfully raunchy talk from his beautiful mate was an unexpected gift. He drove into her, harder and harder, claiming her in the most basic and primal way possible.

  “I love you. You are mine, and you will never, ever leave me,” he told her, desperate to make sure she understood.

  “I love you, too, and you will never leave me, either,” she replied, gasping, her beautiful face rosy with passion, and then she cried out as she crested, her body pulsing and clenching around his cock.

  He couldn’t resist the force of her climax; it took him over the edge to his own, and he raised his head and roared out her name while he came inside her.

  “Mine. Forever,” he whispered, as he kissed her cheeks and nose and forehead and lips, over and over and over. His mind was frantic to make sure she understood, even as his body was sated and replete.

  “Forever won’t be long enough,” she murmured, nestling closer to him, and the final barrier inside his heart. that had been terrified of a future without her, finally fell to the realization that she loved him.

  She loved him. Forever. He held her close as she fell asleep, smiling as he noticed that, this time, they were both glowing.

  * * *

  Quinn had never in her life spent three solid days doing nothing but engaging in utter hedonism. She felt drunk on pleasure. Anytime she wanted him, he was ready, and he always wanted her, so they spent most of their time making love and talking.

  Making love and laughing together.

  Making love and making plans.

  She actually wanted to travel to every corner of the world just
because she wanted to see the sights, not because she had to hunt and kill something there.

  “London at Christmas,” she said, writing it down on a tablet that was resting on Alaric’s naked back. “Also, does even your back have to be buff? It seems a bit like showing off.”

  He laughed. “I don’t know how to do swordplay exercises without using my back, but I can try.”

  She licked a path down his spine, distracted from the conversation and her list by his muscular perfection, and they forgot about the paper and pen for a few hours.

  Another time, his housekeeper brought them dinner, and there was chocolate ice cream, and he decided to paint her body with it and discover if the contrast between the icy chocolate and his hot mouth could entice her into any further heights of pleasure.

  Turns out that it could.

  It took her nearly half an hour to learn how to breathe again after the ice cream.

  They dressed up in formal robes he had in his closet and danced to the music wafting in from the window when the Atlantean symphony played. But dancing involved touching, and they were too new to touching to be able to dance and not explore. The robes fell away, and soon his mouth was on her breast and her hands were on his butt, and then they were dancing in a whole different style on the silk coverlets on the bed.

  He told her things he’d never shared with anyone, not even Conlan, and she told him of the terrors she’d faced as a rebel. She cried when he told her about the long days in the oubliette, and he tensed and gritted his teeth when she described the time the wolf shifter had caged her for three days, saving her for a snack, before she’d finally escaped.

  “It was actually the best I ate that whole year,” she said, laughing in retrospect at the experience, which had been terrifying at the time. “He kept feeding me roasted chicken to fatten me up, and I love roasted chicken. He would have been better off to eat the chicken himself and let me go. I was a lot of trouble, and I stole his wallet on the way out.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Maybe seventeen,” she said casually, and he winced inside at the thought of her teenage self going through such a horrible ordeal, but he tried not to let her see it.