Warriors of Poseidon 02 - Atlantis Awakening

education in truly classic television." Ven walked back to where Erin still stood in the doorway, her eyes wide, and gently took the bag of pastries from her. "Erin, more officially, may I introduce three of my fellow warriors: Justice, with the fancy blue hair; Alexios, leaning against the wall; and Denal, the youngling of the bunch. All three serve Poseidon in the protection of humanity, as do I."
     
    Erin turned those beautiful blue eyes toward Justice, nearest to her, and Ven fought the urge to step between them, as every muscle in his body tensed to battle-readiness. For some whacked-out reason, he didn't want Erin to look at Justice.
    Atlantis Awakening – Warriors of Poseidon 02
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    Whoa. Need to figure that one out.
     
    Erin, clearly unaware that Ven was going bat shit next to her, nodded at each of the three warriors in turn. "My name is Erin Connors. I am very honored to meet you."
     
    Erin tried not to stand there gaping like a beached fish, but it was pretty darn hard.
    She'd never been in a room with so much testosterone in her life. The warriors all stood well over six feet tall, and wore enough weapons to stock an armory. Not to mention that they were all gorgeous, gorgeous men. She figured Atlantis must be some sort of heaven underwater for the women there. Except if the men looked like this, the women were probably all tall, slinky supermodel types. The thought made her shoulders slump a little, considering her own non-slinky, non-tall, non-supermodel self.
     
    She smiled tentatively at Justice. "Blue" was such a lame, doesn't-come-close kind of word to describe the rich sea colors rippling through his long hair. Navy, midnight, cerulean, royal, and even a few strands of periwinkle gleamed under the bright lights of the kitchen. He'd been standing near the far wall braiding it when she walked in and, as she watched, he tied off the end with a short length of leather cord, stepped toward her and bowed. The decorated and engraved hilt of the sword sheathed on his back looked worn, as if well used, and the sight of it reminded her again of her mission. As if she could ever forget.
     
    "I am at your service, Lady Erin, so long as our goals are in accord," he said so smoothly that it took her a moment to realize it hadn't exactly been unequivocal support.
     
    "Thank you, I think," she said wryly. She caught a glimmer of surprise and then amusement in his eyes before he masked his expression back to impassivity. "Same goes. From what Quinn and Jack told us of the Warriors of Poseidon, your service is worth quite a great deal."
     
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    She held out a hand to shake his and nearly jumped out of her skin when the amber on her middle fingers sounded a discordant note in her mind. A note she'd never heard.
    The amber protected her from the threat of dark magic and called to her with a wild, jangling song when there were vampires or anybody else wielding black or death magic near her. This hadn't been that song; it was nothing like the warning from the night before—but it had been… something.
     
    Something unnatural. She stepped back from Justice and sent out a slight whisper of power toward him to try to sense what he was. But something within him slashed out at her seeking tendril of magic and sliced it in two. His eyes flared with power and something else for a long moment. Something deadly.
     
    "You are Atlantean, right, Justice?"
     
    He raised one eyebrow and the corners of his lips quirked in a mocking smile. "As Atlantean as Poseidon himself. You are very intriguing, aren't you?"
     
    "Quinn spoke truly, my lady," Denal said, drawing her attention away from Justice, but not before she resolved to keep a close eye on, and a safe distance from, the blue-haired warrior. "We are honored to help you battle the dark forces."
     
    Denal also bowed to her, but added a flourish. He drew the two daggers from the sheaths on his massive thighs and crossed them before his chest as he bowed. As he resheathed the blades, he grinned at her, and she understood why Ven had called him the youngling. She had a mad urge to ruffle his hair.
     
    "About that bag you're holding—it doesn't happen to have pastries in it, does it?" he said, looking an awful lot like a hopeful puppy.
     
    She laughed and held out the bag for him. "There is an assortment in there, but I'm sorry I only brought four lattes. I didn't realize Ven had