Warriors of Poseidon 01 - Atlantis Rising

boiled in anticipation of another strike.
     
    He got a vicious pleasure out of watching them cower the way they'd wanted to see her cower.
     
    Yeah, I can be a bastard that way.
     
    He spoke with every ounce of rage in his body bubbling to the surface, arm muscles clenching with the strain of holding back the wall of water. "I command you to leave this place and never return. You will not attempt to harm another, or I will track you down and serve up the justice that only this woman's compassion saved you from tonight."
     
    Atlantis Rising – Warriors of Poseidon 01
    Page 43 of 351
    He swept them with his gaze, dropped out of formal speak. "In other words, you'll be dead sons of bitches. We on the same page?"
     
    They babbled their promises in broken voices, then ran off, stinking of fear and piss, when he gestured them away. His gaze only tracked them for a moment, then he turned, inexplicably drawn back to the woman. She had guts, or she had a death wish.
    Either way, she'd seen him command the ocean, and yet she was unafraid enough to stand her ground.
     
    Trained warriors had cowered in front of him with less cause.
     
    How the hell did one small human have such courage?
     
    A fierce curiosity burned through him. He wanted, no, needed, to see her face, which was shadowed by her hair and hidden in the darkness. His fury was disproportionate—it didn't make sense. The thugs were buffoons, easily enough cowed.
     
    But for some reason, he'd wanted to slice the flesh off their bodies.
     
    Maybe being tortured for so long would turn anybody into a sick, twisted bastard. Even the so-called next ruler of Atlantis.
     
    A little logic might help. Use some of that much-vaunted Atlantean warrior training.
     
    Yeah, logic. Logic dictated that he study his own reactions.
     
    Logic counseled prudence.
     
    She started to edge away from him.
     
    Fuck logic.
    Atlantis Rising – Warriors of Poseidon 01
    Page 44 of 351
     
    He tried on a royal command for size. Come closer to me, woman. I have a need to see the face of one who bids me not to harm those who threaten her. Are you compassionate or merely a fool?
     
    She tossed her head, long and tousled hair flying through the air, and something low in his body tightened. She ignored his mental query and his command and stood her ground. "Who are you, and how are you in my mind? You can quit with the ordering me around thing, too, buster. I know self-defense. I would have been fine."
     
    Her voice. It was lyrical, sensuous, music lilting into his ears and resonating through his body. Playing him like delicate fingers on the strings of a harp. His body tightened, straining.
     
    Her body quivered with indignation, yet the emotion she still broadcast confessed the truth. She knew they would have put a big, bad hurt on her.
     
    The emotion. Somehow, he kept losing track of the unexpected, unprecedented, unbe-fucking-lievable fact that she was broadcasting emotion. She knew she would have been seriously harmed if he hadn't been there—he actually felt the knowledge and, with it, her residual fear and sorrow.
     
    She sighed, and her body slumped. "I'm… sorry. I should be thanking you. Whoever—or whatever—you are, you saved me from those men. Thank you."
     
    Then she raised her head and peered at him. "You're not going to drink my blood or rip my arms off, now, are you? Because my day has really sucked, and I'm so not up for that," she said, suspicion ringing in her tone.
     
    Atlantis Rising – Warriors of Poseidon 01
    Page 45 of 351
    He blinked, bewildered by her apparent inability to carry on a logical conversation. He figured he'd try using simple sentences and speaking out loud. Maybe terror turned human women into babbling idiots.
     
    Slowly, carefully choosing his words, he tried to explain. "I am not the undead, nor a shifter of shape to animal form. I am… other. You are entirely safe with me, aknasha."
     
    She planted her hands on her hips and stared at him. "You keep calling me that. What does it mean? What does 'other' mean? And why do you talk like you walked out of an old-time fairy-tale book?"
     
    As he considered how to answer her, the bank of clouds overhead finally passed beyond the edge of the moon. The shimmer of moonlight on her features plowed a wave of sensation right through his gut. Nobody could be that beautiful.
     
    He almost laughed. She'd been talking about fairy tales, and she looked like she'd stepped out of the pages of one.