Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

faces.
    One of the women met Keely at the door and held her arms out for Eleni. “Come to me, little one,” she soothed. “Let the doctor be for now.”
    Eleni cried out and dug her heels into Keely‟s kidneys. “No, no, no. Want Keely!”
    “It‟s okay,” Keely said, moving into the room and looking for a pile of blankets where she could deposit Eleni. “Eleni, you have to listen to me. I need to help Justice—”
    “Señor Superman does not need our help,” Eleni said mu tinously. “You stay with me.”
    Keely knelt down on the floor and tried gently to pull Eleni‟s arms from around her neck.
    “Please, sweetheart. I promise to come right back to you, okay? But even Superman needs help sometimes.”
    Abruptly, Eleni let go of Keely, wrapped her arms around herself and started rocking. “You won‟t come back. Nobody ever comes back to me.”
    Keely hugged the child, but she‟d gone as stiff and unyielding as a board. “I will. I promise you.”
    But Eleni‟s eyes had gone wide and shocky; she began humming a discordant tune to herself and Keely knew she didn‟t have time to break through to her. Only returning as she‟d promised would reassure the child.
    The kind woman who‟d met them at the door knelt down beside Keely, a shotgun in her hands. “I will care for her, Dr. McDermott. I am not as superstitious as these others. You take this and help protect us from these devils.”
    Keely nodded her thanks, unable to speak over the lump in her throat. She pressed a kiss to the top of Eleni‟s head and then took the shotgun from the woman and ran for the door, hoping she wasn‟t too late.
     
    Justice called for water and was relieved when it immediately answered his call, trembling in wait at the edge of the clearing as he‟d commanded. At least one of his Atlantean powers had not been lost, then, even though the capricious magic of the portal to Atlantis would not respond to him. Twilight had turned to full dark and the rich, earthy smells of the jungle pressed in on him, counteracting the residual stench of burned buildings and charred dreams.
    Alejandro knelt behind an overturned cart a dozen paces away, leveling his shotgun in the direction that the attack had come from the night before. Of course even bloodsuckers knew enough to vary their methods and directions of attack, but it was a matter of seconds to turn to meet the threat.
    “I can hear them coming,” Justice said quietly. “Be ready.”
    Alejandro nodded and passed the word to the other men, who stood strong and resolute, even though their faces were pale with dread. All of them had lost family members to the vampires.
    They knew what they faced, and they had no powers other than their simple shotguns and a pile of wooden stakes next to each man.
    The trick was getting close enough to use one of those stakes.
    I have a surprise for you, if you insist on helping these pathetic humans, the Nereid said smugly.
    What is it? And it had better be fast and useful, Justice warned.
    You decide, the Nereid replied, then flashed a series of visions—of knowledge —through Justice‟s mind so fast that he nearly stumbled with dizziness.
    Suddenly he knew. It was as if he had always known. Known how to access the power of his other half, of his Nereid ancestry. He could wield water as an Atlantean.
    He could wield madness as a Nereid.
    As both, he could bring utter destruction to the vampires who chose that minute to soar through the trees and land on the ground not ten feet in front of him. Madness and confusion, and it would be so easy.
    Still, he did love the feel of his sword in his hands.
    “You do not belong here,” the vamp in front of the group hissed at him, as Justice counted nine more laughing and skulking around to try to flank their group. “You are no villager, nor even native to this land.”
    Justice raised his sword and the vamp took a step back, suddenly hesitant. “I belong nowhere and everywhere, bloodsucker. You, though, bear the stamp of the Mayan heritage, yet still you torment these countrymen and women of yours. That is the worst kind of treachery.”
    Alejandro stood up, leveling his shotgun at the vamp‟s head. “I propose a barter,” he said calmly.
    The vamp barked out a chilling burst of laughter. “What barter could you—”
    The shotgun bucked and roared and exploded the vamp‟s head into acidic chunks of skull and meat. Justice shot a look at Alejandro, who shrugged as the vampire‟s