Warriors of Poseidon 01 - Atlantis Rising

tentative mind probe to her. Her mind clamped on to his probe, the energy of her thoughts rearing up, defensive. As if she sensed danger.
     
    Atlantis Rising – Warriors of Poseidon 01
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    She thought he was a predator. He bared his teeth, nearly smiling. He'd been called worse.
     
    He tried to shut down his mental shields, but she lashed out at him. Defense turned to offense—seeking to discern what the hell he was.
     
    Get out of my mind! Defiance. Courage.
     
    Pure, heated emotion.
     
    And, buried way down deep: a tendril of fear.
     
    His logic tried to make sense of the impossible. Not even Atlanteans could project emotion into the mind probe anymore. And yet she did. On a level so intense, so visceral, that his warrior senses nearly missed the threat to her.
     
    There were three of them. They planned to hurt her. He swore viciously under his breath in the ancient tongue.
     
    They were going to die.
     
    He moved even faster.
     
    Riley lifted her head, suddenly aware of a threat far greater than the three who stalked her. Something—someone—she almost felt him inside of her.
     
    "Great. Either we've got vamps with new mind-control powers, or that damn sixth sense of mine picks now to go haywire," she muttered, even as she pushed herself up off the beach and started walking. Fast.
     
    Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe they were just three guys out for a walk on the beach.
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    Yeah, and I'm Goldilocks.
     
    "Hold up there, babe. We want to have a little talk with you," one of them called out in a thick voice. The others laughed, and the menace in their laughter sent a curl of fear shivering up Riley's spine.
     
    The air around her thickened, seemed to swirl with a darker black, as if an opposing force gathered itself, threatened.
     
    But it didn't threaten her.
     
    The dark caressed her as it passed, then built into an ominous cloud behind her. She kept walking, faster, nearly jogging now, glancing back over her shoulder. The men had stopped, openmouthed.
     
    "What the hell is that?" one of them said, rubbing his arms. His belly hung low over his belt and his greasy hair was combed over his balding scalp. An angry-looking red scar snaked up out of his collar to the side of his neck. He caught her looking at him and leered at her. "Yeah, you're anxious to get a piece of me, aren't you, chickie? Guess you're not as tough as the other one."
     
    The men put their heads down, driving their way through the shadows of the barrier, and stumbled after her.
     
    She shuddered. Started to run. The unseen threat in the air around her escalated.
     
    Nothing human could do that. It was an intangible presence—but a very tangible threat.
     
    Oh, no. Somebody please help me. It's a damn vampire. Or a shapeshifter. I never should have broken curfew.
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    The sand seemed to mock her, catching her ankles, making her stumble. She heard her pursuers thundering closer and closer.
     
    She shoved the panic away. Remember what you tell your clients. It's rape—horrible, soul deadening, but you'll be alive. It's not murder. It's only temporary. Nothing matters but staying alive. You can survive this.
     
    An inhumanly vicious roar sounded through her head—no, it wasn't just in her head.
    She heard it. She lurched to a stop, glancing behind at her pursuers.
     
    The bastards behind her stopped, too. "What the hell was that, Red? You said none of those fucking werewolves hung out around here," one of them whined.
     
    Riley shook her head, trapped. Bones turned to liquid. She forced herself to keep moving.
     
    Better to risk being lunch for an unseen vampire than victim of a gang bang. Too early for shapeshifters.
     
    "Guess rapists these days aren't up on lunar phases," she said, hysteria threatening to overwhelm her.
     
    The roar came again, stopping her in her tracks. Terror whipped through her. Nothing human made that sound.
     
    She was going to die.
     
    She choked on a laugh. Maybe they'd put her in a drawer at the morgue next to Morris.
     
    A voice—a silken melody of sound—rang inside of her head.
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    The undead will never have you, little aknasha. You are too valuable to us. We need to figure out just how you acquired this interesting talent.
     
    The velvet caress of the voice caught at her mental defenses,