Heart Of Atlantis

you insane? What he did,
mi amara
, was to paint a giant target on your forehead. Every faction in the vampire conspiracy, every rogue shape-shifter, and even the many humans you’ve crossed over the years—they will all be after you. I will have to kill every one of them after I kill Ptolemy.”
    “I’ll be right there to help,” Ven said.
    Jack, who’d been so silent Alaric had almost forgotten about him, roared so loudly the walls seemed to vibrate with the sound.
    “That’s too many to kill, you idiots,” Quinn said wearily. “I may as well stay here and start a flying monkey ranch. Life as I knew it is over. Will you teach me how to speak Japanese, Archelaus?”
    Alaric made a horrible snarling noise, deep in his throat, so primal that it rivaled Jack at his tiger worst. He raised his hands and hurled an intense whiplash of power so massive that the entire room flashed as bright and hot as if they huddled inside a lightning bolt, praying for the storm to end. The television shattered into a thousand pieces, as did the table beneath it, the chair next to it, and a significant part of the cavern wall.
    The world itself seemed to hold its breath in the aftermath of the violence, until finally Alaric’s voice broke the silence.
    “Remember what I said, Quinn,” Alaric said calmly. He turned those deadly eyes on her, but she forced herself not to flinch. “I will kill them all.”

Chapter 5
    Alaric watched Quinn follow Archelaus out of the room. She’d grown quieter and quieter while they argued over what to do next, and then she’d finally said she was going to find some food.
    “Not much else to do, now that I’m unemployed,” she’d said, contorting her face in what she may have intended to be a smile, but which came out as a death’s head grimace.
    Jack followed, her silent, deadly shadow. Alaric realized yet again that in another world—another timeline—she could have loved Jack and, perhaps, been happy. The realization added yet another layer of tarnish to the rusted remains of his conscience, but did not in the least tempt him to give her up.
    At least Alaric had stopped casually plotting ways to kill Jack whenever he thought of Jack with Quinn. That was progress, of a sort.
    “That is one scary expression on your face, my friend,” Ven said. The prince folded his arms over his chest. “Do I even want to know what’s on your mind?”
    “Your wants are of no concern to me. My mind is my own. I leave now to confront this fake Ptolemy. Once he’s dead, and I retrieve the gem, our problems will diminish.”
    Ven shook his head. “Not by much. The world still knows that Quinn is a rebel leader. That bell can’t be unrung. She’s done being safe—or, for that matter, going undercover—forever. And we should check in with Conlan and the rest of the Seven and find out if they even know what’s going on. It’s not like they get CNN in Atlantis.”
    “Fine. You check in. I’m going to New York.” Alaric called to the portal, belatedly wondering if it would even answer, if Noriko truly was the portal spirit or presence who had directed its magic.
    A shimmering oval of light answered his question, but before entering he stopped and addressed it, feeling a fool.
    “You. Spirit of the portal. Can you speak in that form?”
    Silence was his only answer, which was no answer at all.
    “Fine. Take me to the Plaza Hotel in New York,” he commanded, as he stepped into the swirling magic.
    As the vortex took him, Ven followed.
    “Somebody needs to save your ass,” the prince said.
    “Whatever you say, Your Highness.”
    “Call me that again, and I’ll
kick
your ass instead.”
    The portal deposited them in what appeared to be a garden or park, in a stand of trees. The rich scent of plants, flowers, and trees, with an underlying touch of metal and machine, infused the night air, and stars twinkled overhead.
    “Night here, day in Japan. The time zone change is messing with my brain,” Ven said.
    “Where are we?” Alaric demanded.
    “This is Central Park. See that overgrown mansion of a building? That’s the Plaza. Finest hotel in New York.” Ven grinned. “I met this brunette in the Champagne Bar once—”
    “Yes, I’ll be sure to tell Erin all about that.” Alaric had even less patience than usual with the prince’s banter. Quinn’s
life
was in danger. Rage thrummed through his bones and his blood like the war cry of ancient tribal drums.
    A look of pure horror crossed