Warriors of Poseidon 01 - Atlantis Rising

Atlantean silk.
    She hadn't felt wrong. Nothing about her, about them together, had felt anything but right.
     
    Too right. How could it be so right to hold a woman he'd just met?
     
    A human!
     
    Closing his eyes, Conlan breathed slowly in through his nose and called on the discipline of his training to dampen his raging need. He was high prince, and he knew his duty.
     
    Yeah, well, screw duty. Ven has five minutes, and then I'm going after her. I'm going to make sure she's safe before I go recover the Trident.
     
    A swirling fountain of water shot up into the air, carrying Alaric to the sand. Dramatic as always.
     
    Atlantis Rising – Warriors of Poseidon 01
    Page 65 of 351
    The priest's midnight-black hair swirled around his shoulders, reminding Conlan of the stories told about him. Alaric as the dark guardian of Poseidon's rages. The people invoked the high priest's name to terrify children into minding their parents.
     
    Conlan scowled, for the first time wondering how Alaric felt about being made into the stuff of nightmares. The glimmer of sympathy vanished, though, when the priest started laughing.
     
    "My patience is damn near at an end, so laugh at your own risk," he snarled, feeling like a fool, trying for dignity when he'd recently been sprawled in the dirt.
     
    Knowing that Alaric knew it.
     
    Alaric grinned at him. "You don't appreciate my fun, Conlan? I spend so little time on land, I deserve to enjoy it, don't I?" He strode forward and held out a hand. Wearing form-fitting black pants and a black silk shirt nearly identical to Conlan's own, Alaric could have been his twin.
     
    His evil twin.
     
    Still, Conlan didn't have time for childish sulking. He grasped the outstretched hand, knowing Alaric would read him more easily through touch.
     
    Needing to know what had happened to him, even as he resented the intrusion into his head.
     
    "A fountain of water? Your childish games bring unwanted attention to us, priest. Be advised that I prefer it that you stop," he growled, resorting to formal speak.
     
    Atlantis Rising – Warriors of Poseidon 01
    Page 66 of 351
    Alaric grinned again, clearly unrepentant, and released his hand. "Uh-oh. You're calling me priest, instead of Alaric. That must mean you're trying on your kingly ways, old friend."
     
    Then the grin faded, and the illusion of amiability vanished with it. A dark and lethal predator remained, ice-green eyes glowing with power. "Be advised that I do what I wish. Poseidon's high priest answers to none but the sea god himself."
     
    Before Conlan could frame a retort, he felt, rather than heard, his brother shoot up through the water, barely breaking the surface. He turned to watch Ven stride through the sand, the coppery blades of his orichalcum daggers unsheathed and held at the ready.
     
    Ven held the title of King's Vengeance by heredity and by battle right. No warrior was more skilled. Nobody could kick vamp or shapeshifter ass better. Which was a handy trait in the man whose sworn duty it was to protect his brother the high prince.
     
    Except for those times when Conlan sped off for the surface without waiting for either his brother or his elite guard.
     
    As he'd never done before. Something to prove, much?
     
    Conlan dismissed the idea of arguing with Alaric and turned to his brother. Ven was going to be pissed.
     
    He had a right to be.
     
    Ven stormed up the beach toward him. "What in the name of the nine hells were you thinking? Are you out of your damn mind? We're facing a threat that we don't even understand, and you pick now to go all Rambo?"
     
    Atlantis Rising – Warriors of Poseidon 01
    Page 67 of 351
    Conlan strained to keep the snarl out of his own voice, and almost succeeded.
     
    Almost.
     
    "Do you offer battle challenge, my brother?" He got right up in Ven's face, in spite of the fact that his baby brother had a couple of inches and maybe fifty pounds on him.
     
    Ven bared his teeth. "Look, you idiot—"
     
    Conlan very deliberately swept one arm out, a ball of turquoise and silver light flashing in his upturned palm. Then he swept his gaze over Ven and the rest of the Seven and drew what shred of dignity he still possessed around him. "I think you overstep the role of King's Vengeance, my brother. I answer to no one."
     
    Even as the words left his mouth, he realized their similarity to those Alaric had just uttered.
     
    Evidently, so did Alaric, whose eyes gleamed with amusement. But at least he