Warriors of Poseidon 05 - Atlantis Redeemed

call, jumping to his use to protect his destined mate. She had been right here all of this time, enduring unimaginable suffering. Giving up hope.
    Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    They would pay. They would die.
    “Settle down,” the coward who had Tiernan said, his voice rising. “Stop doing that glowing thing with your eyes. Stop it or I hurt her.”
    Brennan formed the water into spears of ice in his mind before he ever forced them to materialize. When they did, they were already in motion, slicing through the air at the speed of sound. The guards were dead, both impaled through the middle of their foreheads, before they ever hit the ground.
    Tiernan stared at him, stunned, unable to believe what she saw. “Brennan? Are you—are you back?”
    “I’m back, and I owe you a thousand apologies, but we must leave. Now. The keys?”
    She bit her lip, but didn’t waste time arguing, just bent to search the guards’ pockets, coming up with the keys. She quickly opened his cell, but backed away from him, her eyes wary, when he would have gathered her in his arms.
    “Fair enough,” he said, knowing he deserved nothing more from her, after he had failed her so badly. “Now we escape.”
    “It can’t be as easy as that,” she said, but she handed him the keys readily enough and watched as he put one of the dead guards on each of their cots, then covered them in blankets.
    “It’s less than nothing as a ruse, but maybe it will buy us a minute or two,” Brennan said, locking the cell doors.
    She ran over to the bank of computers. “There are monitors here, of the corridors and the lab.”
    A grimace crossed her face. “That damn chair. I’d like to come back here with dynamite and blow that thing out of existence.”
    “We will,” he promised her. “We will come back and make sure Litton never, ever harms anyone again.”
    “We can head down this corridor, it might be an exit.” She pointed to the one in the opposite direction from the lab. “I doubt there are guards everywhere, this late at night. After all, they believe we’re safely locked in our cages.”
    She clenched her fists on the console, and her ripped sleeve hung free of her shoulder. “They will never get me in that cage again. I’d rather they just shoot me.”
    “Never again,” Brennan agreed. “Now we run, before Litton gets back with more of his thugs.
    Or Smitty, which would be worse.”
    She nodded, then touched his face so briefly he barely felt it. “Oh, Brennan. I thought you were Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    lost.”
    “Never,” he swore. “You will never, ever lose me.”
    She nodded, but there was still no belief in her eyes. “Now we run,” she said, and headed for the door.

Chapter 34
    The central salon of Mr. Jones, deep underneath Yellowstone National Park Litton, at that very moment, was wishing to be somewhere, anywhere, else. These vampires were monsters, torturing one another indiscriminately. What kind of creature did that for no reason other than some perverse pleasure?
    Although, if he had to watch anyone being tortured, it wasn’t that much of a hardship when it was Devon and that snotty bitch female vampire who went everywhere with him.
    The pair of them hung by their arms from silver chains. Litton could tell the chains were silver by the way smoke curled up from the vamps’ skin. That must be incredibly painful. He’d wondered in the past if vampires could even feel pain, since they were, of course, dead, but from the look of Devon and Deirdre, they definitely could.
    It was Litton’s first time in Jones’s quarters, and he tried not to stare around him like an ignorant yokel on a trip to the big city. Velvet and silk hangings covered the walls of what was, basically, a cave. Paintings stood up against walls, or on shelves, everywhere. Litton was no art connoisseur, but some of those looked real. As in originals, should-be-in-museums, worth-millions-of-dollars real.
    Why did they need Brennan’s money so bad when these guys had this kind of wealth?
    “Vampires keep what is theirs, human,” a voice hissed in his ear. Litton jumped almost a foot in the air, and the vampire who’d spoken, Mr. Smith, laughed, displaying very sharp fangs.
    Jones dropped the pincers he’d been using on Devon’s ear and whirled around so fast that Litton almost didn’t see him move at all. “Why are you here?” he snarled at Smith.
    Litton