Warriors of Poseidon 01 - Atlantis Rising

lay there, moaning and blubbering in a funny voice. Score one for her, at least.
     
    And then she saw him. Black shadow coalesced into a tall figure running toward her so quickly it seemed as though his feet never touched the ground.
     
    Power, raging and furious, swept over her. Her skin iced at the feel of it.
     
    She was either saved, or she was utterly doomed.

Chapter 5
    Conlan fought to breathe, nearly blinded by the red haze of rage that seared through him, choking him, threatening to obscure his vision. A berserker rage.
     
    He welcomed it. Bring it on.
     
    Raising his arms, he channeled the water from the sea. It funneled up into the air in shards, turning to ice as it rose. He shot the ice daggers at his targets—arrows from Poseidon's bow.
     
    The men fell back, screaming, as razor-edged death sliced into their flesh.
     
    "You don't touch her. Ever" he snarled, as he raised his arms in demand. Poseidon's oceans dominated the world.
     
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    Poseidon's Warriors dominated the ocean.
     
    He was high prince and the first of the Warriors, and he would destroy them for daring to touch her.
     
    The surf boiled at the edge of the sand, crests of waves rising to impossible heights, seeming almost to seek their prey. Conlan slashed his arms down, aiming his focus. He commanded the frenzy of waves to rise, higher and higher.
     
    His fury swelled, threatening his control. The red haze spread further over his vision. To have the ability to strike back again after so many years of powerlessness…
     
    Anubisa's mocking laughter sounded in his brain.
     
    He was a fucking head case.
     
    Then a touch—inside him. A touch of courage, of defiance.
     
    Light to his dark. Compassion to his mercilessness.
     
    His gaze swung to the woman crouched down in the sand, hands still up to defend herself from the bastards who'd attacked her. In the midst of it all, she'd spared the energy to respond to his madness.
     
    He would smash them for her. Drive the water to strip the flesh from their bones.
     
    Enjoy every last minute of it.
     
    "No! What are you? Stop! You'll kill us!" she screamed up at him, defiant still, in spite of the terror she projected.
     
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    Beyond reason, beyond compassion, he raised his arms again, then slashed them down, commanding the wall of water to crash down on the shore. To crush the men, where they lay bleeding and groveling.
     
    He drove the wave toward the shore.
     
    Her voice, broken, tentative, sounded in his head. Stop! Please don't kill me! My sister…
    I'm all she has. And… don't kill them. Please. Enough death.
     
    Conlan marveled at her goodness, her courage.
     
    Her light.
     
    Even as she thought death was crashing toward her, she spared a thought for the garbage who'd tried to attack her.
     
    He followed her thought back along its path to her mind. I would never hurt you. Trust me.
     
    Or was he a damn fool? Maybe she was just a talented actress. Nobody that compassionate could be real.
     
    But the red haze lifted, receded. Somehow her mental touch lent him calm. A measure of peace. He was inside her mind—she was projecting emotion. There was no deceit—no evil. Nothing but compassion wrapped up in terror. Sorrow.
     
    Conlan focused his power at the water and the men in its path, speaking a single word.
    "Abate."
     
    In perfect symmetry, the water pounded the shore in an exact spherical shape around the place where she stood, leaving her untouched by a single drop. He felt her shock Atlantis Rising – Warriors of Poseidon 01
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    and wonder at the spectacle and could almost taste her awe as she reached out to touch the wall of water surrounding her.
     
    She gasped—made a choked sound of laughter. Broadcasted her thoughts: All I can think of is the parting of the Red Sea, but you're definitely not Moses.
     
    Conlan crushed the water down on the little pricks, reining it in at the last possible second. He'd mitigate.
     
    For her.
     
    They might get a little broken, but they'd live. The wall of ocean pounded them to the sand, but left them with enough oxygen in their lungs to survive it.
     
    Which didn't make him all that happy.
     
    As the waves receded, leaving the men crying, babbling, and damn near shitting themselves, Conlan stepped forward and raised his arms again. The waves eagerly leapt to do his bidding, and the surf