Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

corporeal form, still wrapped in shadows so the ones inside didn‟t see him as he unsheathed his daggers.
    Brennan‟s thoughts swirled through the air toward Alexios, stopping him mid-motion. Hold, Alexios. We wait for the leader. These humans do not react as you might think and will not welcome our interference, in any event, so we do no good by rushing in at this time.
    “What in the hells are you talking about? They‟re having their skin shredded by those whips.
    I‟d say that it‟s a pretty good time to welcome some interference,” Alexios returned, keeping his voice low.
    Christophe shimmered into shape next to him, his eyes already glowing hot with power.
    “Look at the sick bastards, Alexios. They‟re enjoying it.”
    Alexios swung his head back to stare in at the humans writhing in pain on the floor. “They‟re not—”
    But then he stopped, the words frozen in his mouth. He‟d seen it often enough from the Apostates during his captivity. They‟d made a cult out of sexual pleasure through pain—that of others and their own.
    But the worst of them were bloodsuckers like the dark goddess they worshipped. Part of her blood pride.
    These were humans.
    Humans . And they were screwing each other as they bled, right there on the carpet.
    Alexios felt the bile roiling in his gut. “Poseidon save us. That‟s the most disgusting thing I‟ve seen in a long—”
    Christophe cut him off. “To each his own, Alexios. Just because you didn‟t enjoy whatever Anubisa did to scar your pretty face doesn‟t mean that some of us don‟t like to play a little rough sometimes.”
    Whirling to face the other warrior, Alexios didn‟t even realize he‟d drawn his fist back to strike until Brennan caught his wrist in one powerful hand. “Christophe‟s words, as is often the case, outpace his thoughts, old friend,” Brennan said calmly. “But we are only three and cannot countenance dissension between us if we are to learn any news of Lord Justice.”
    Alexios nodded, still boring a hole in the side of Christophe‟s head with his gaze. “You‟re right, Brennan. But when this is over, there will come a reckoning time.”
    Christophe never even turned to face him, but remained staring into the window, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Power rolled off of him in waves, until Alexios thought the inside of his skull would burst from it.
    “Christophe, ratchet it down. Now.”
    Christophe didn‟t bother to respond, but the pressure in Alexios‟s head diminished as Christophe‟s entire body stiffened and he pointed at the glass. “I bet that‟s our slimeball.
    Look at the way all the red robes are bowing and scraping.”
    The man—no, the vampire ; anybody with a face that color of fish-belly white could only be the undead—striding into the room had to be at least six and a half feet tall. His bald head gleamed as though oiled, as did the rest of his body. Or at least what they could see of it, which was way too much for Alexios‟s taste.
    “What is he wearing?” Christophe said, disgust dripping from his words. “The newest thing in leather and chains?”
    “My eyes are bleeding,” Alexios groaned.
    “Deplorable taste in clothing or not, we perhaps should act now,” Brennan murmured.
    Christophe raised his palms, and two glowing spheres of pure blue-green energy instantly formed, the power of Poseidon searing through him like channeled electricity. “Now works for me,” he said.
    “Don‟t hurt the humans,” Alexios shouted, but it was too late. Christophe shot the spheres at the enormous wall of glass, shattering it inward in a thunderous explosion.
    The cult members nearest the window screamed and threw themselves away from the deadly shards of glass arrowing toward them, scrambling away on newly bloodied hands and knees.
    Shrieks and cries filled the air as everyone in the room ran or crawled away from the window.
    Great. That wouldn‟t alert hotel security. Alexios sent a quick prayer to Poseidon that at least the security force wasn‟t composed of shifters, then shoved Christophe out of the way and flew through the jagged hole.
    The cult members scrambled to put even more distance between themselves and the intruders as the Atlanteans soared into the room and landed on the glass-covered carpet.
    Everyone but the leader. He stared straight into Alexios‟s eyes, and he smiled. “I expected you before this, weaklings. Do you wish to join the ways of Algolagnia? I, Xinon,