Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

scientific mind perked up at the idea of gemstones with powers.
    He grasped her shoulders lightly. “You must never speak of this, for none but the king and I, and now you, know the truth of the Trident. If it were to be widely known, our populace would lose all hope.”
    She instantly thought of a dozen questions, and when better to ask them? Searching her host‟s mind for the knowledge she knew was there, she formed the name on her lips. His name.
    “Nereus.”
    As if the name held power, her host body‟s consciousness took command of Keely‟s speech.
    “Nereus, my love, my life. I wish them every happiness that we have enjoyed.”
    As the man took her into his arms, his black eyes began to glow with a blue-green flame in the exact centers of his pupils. “As do I, Zelia, my wife. As do I.”
    Keely lifted her face to receive his kiss, and when she closed her eyes, the world swirled down to black.
     
    “Dr. McDermott! Keely!” Someone was shouting at her, the sound muffled by the ocean waves rippling across the surface of the dome. The dome . . . Atlantis.
    Keely opened her eyes to the sight of Liam‟s face framed by the shabby ceiling tiles in her office. Shocked to full awareness of where—and who —she had been, she stared into the dark eyes of the man who‟d put her through it. “You look just like him.”
    Liam‟s arms tightened around her, and she realized that he held her in the air, cradled like a child. Her face burned with embarrassment. “Put me down, Atlantean. Now.”
    With obvious reluctance he lowered her until her feet touched the floor. “Are you well?”
    “As if you cared, you bastard. Do you have any idea—” She cut off in midsentence, a horrible thought crossing her mind. George. If he saw . . . all of her years of careful hiding . . .
    Keely frantically scanned the room and was enormously relieved to see that George was gone.
    Unless he‟d gone to find the people from the funny farm.
    That would be bad.
    She returned her fury to the man who deserved it. “Do you have any idea what it does to me to touch ancient objects with no preparation?”
    She took slow, deep breaths to try to prevent the reaction, but it was hitting her hard. Her entire body shook so fiercely that she could barely stand, but when Liam reached out to steady her, she flinched away from him. “Take your damn sapphire, too.”
    She threw it at him, and he caught it with the same preternatural speed and reflexes that the man in her vision had demonstrated. “Nereus. You look just like him,” she repeated bitterly.
    “Too bad you‟re not a gentleman like he was.”
    The Atlantean flinched back as though she‟d struck him, then leaned toward her. “Did you say Nereus? You actually saw Nereus? There were rumors, but . . . that memory would have been embedded in the gem more than eight thousand years ago.”
    She shivered and tried to make it to her chair, but he caught her and lifted her gently onto the battered old couch in her office. Before she could protest, he‟d whipped his jacket off and placed it around her trembling shoulders.
    “What can I do, my lady?” he asked her, crouching down before her. “What helps in this situation? Be assured you will have my utmost apologies, but they must hold until we have secured your well-being.”
    She blinked, bemused by his sudden concern. “I don‟t . . . well, tea. Actually, some hot tea with lots of sugar would help. George can—” She looked around, remembering that George was gone. “Where did he go?”
    Liam‟s mouth flattened into a grim line. “He ran like a scared rabbit when you collapsed. I assumed he wanted to go in search of an authority figure or for medical assistance. I was compelled to prevent that.”
    She was instantly alert. “What did you do?”
    “I did him no permanent harm, my lady. He is merely resting, and his memories are somewhat altered. It is a small talent that I possess.” He gestured with one hand, and she whipped her head around to see George lying flat out on the floor behind her desk, passed out cold, his skin bearing an alarming resemblance to the stark white of his shirt.
    “You‟re sure he‟s all right? We need to call—”
    “I swear to you on my life and honor, and we will call for assistance for him in a few minutes.”
    She subsided, since he was clearly able to stop her from going for help and George‟s complexion did seem to be pinking up. A couple of minutes later, after the trembling