Warriors of Poseidon 03 - Atlantis Unleashed

for the future of their species. This was one of those times.
    He could do nothing but give her courage its due. He stood up and bowed deeply as the others helped her to sit. “I am always grateful to find an ally, especially one so brave. Thank you, my lady.”
    Grace fell to her knees beside Michelle and hugged her, then looked up at Alaric with tear-drenched eyes. “Thank you. Anything. Anything you ever want, anytime, I‟m here for you.”
    Suddenly uncomfortable at the unnecessary outpouring of gratitude, Alaric inclined his head and strode toward the door and a strangely grim Alexios, who was staring at Grace and Michelle.
    “We need to go, now, Grace. There are plenty of our people with minor wounds who are better off going to the ER than draining any more of Alaric‟s strength,” Alexios commanded.
    “Alaric, you should get going, too. Let me know what you find and if you need me.”
    Alaric simply nodded, unable to decide what, if anything, he would do next.
    Alexios gestured for the first group to head out the door. “Let‟s do it.”
    Grace lifted her gun and, one arm around Michelle, led the way out of the door. The others, carrying the wounded, lined up behind her.
    Alexios unsheathed his daggers and started to follow, then turned back. “Alaric, go after her.
    Since Daniel forced the blood bond on her, Quinn has been different. Lost. She deserves better than for you to abandon her and, priest or no, you know it.”
    Alaric lost all control at the thought of the vampire—their sometimes-ally—Daniel, who also called himself Drakos, who‟d saved Quinn‟s life even as he‟d tied her to him. Alaric hurled the energy sphere at the wall farthest from the humans and watched with grim satisfaction as the windows exploded outward into the empty street.
    “What Quinn Dawson deserves is far more than I could ever provide, whether she is blood bonded to a vampire or not.”
    “Three exchanges, Alaric. It takes three exchanges for a human to become a vampire. He saved her life by doing it, but it was only one.” Alexios shook his head, clearly disgusted. “I have no time for this. Do as you will. I‟m gone.”
    He ran out the door, weapons drawn, after the last of the humans. Alaric started to follow.
    Stopped.
    Took another step. Stopped. For perhaps the first time in all of his centuries of existence, he was nearly frozen with indecision.
    Every instinct he possessed screamed at him to go after Quinn. Logic dictated that he assist Alexios. Emotion battled reason. Longing warred with rationality.
    Emotion kicked logic‟s ass.
    He was going after Quinn.

Chapter 20
    Atlantis, the cavern
    Keely fought her way back to consciousness, feeling the after-math of the most intense vision she‟d ever had kicking her butt like a tequila hangover. She was trapped; something was holding her down. Something . . . or someone.
    Her eyes snapped open, and she looked up into his face. The face she‟d known for years, even though they‟d only just met. Her hand automatically went to the fish carving, still safely under her shirt.
    The image of his infant self swam through her memory, disorienting her. She couldn‟t help herself; she needed to touch his face. Justice flinched a little at her touch, but then leaned his head into her hand, his arms tightening around her. She realized she was lying in his lap and wondered why it felt so completely right.
    Part of her knew that she should move away. The rest of her wanted to stay right there in his arms for a very long time.
    She felt safe in an entirely unsafe situation, no matter that it was crazy. But, then again, she‟d just lived through centuries of his life, and she knew him on a more fundamental level than she‟d ever known anyone before.
    “You are well?” His voice was husky, and his black, black eyes were warm and unexpectedly gentle. “You have been unconscious for several hours. If I had harmed you in any way—”
    He left the sentence unfinished, but his face hardened and his eyes iced over with self-recrimination.
    “No,” she managed. “It was the sword. You had no way to know. I . . . I get visions from touching objects. Especially ancient artifacts that have so much violent and emotional history attached to them. I‟ve never reacted to anything as intensely as I did to your sword.”
    Justice glared at the sword, his lips curling back from his teeth, then he blinked. “You are an object reader, then? That is a Gift we had thought lost