Warriors of Poseidon 05 - Atlantis Redeemed

backed away, getting clear of the path between the two.
    “I’m here for him,” Smith said, inclining his head toward Devon, who raised his head and looked up.
    Litton gasped at the vampire’s appearance. Devon’s skin was shrunken to the bones of his skull, and he looked as though he’d aged more than a hundred years in a few days. Litton couldn’t believe he was even conscious or still alive. Well, alive in his undead way. He’d been tortured, Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    and not just with pincers, either. Gashes and bruises and blood covered his face, body, and what was left of the rags of his clothes. But he was still alive, and conscious, and directing a stare of such burning hate at Jones that Litton wondered the vampire didn’t spontaneously combust.
    Deirdre had not fared so well. She hung limply in her chains, either unconscious or dead, the front of her dress ripped and her chest and belly covered with similar bruising, wounds, and blood.
    Devon licked his lips, then met Smith’s gaze. “Release me so I can kill him and his territory is yours.”
    Smith nodded. “Good enough for me.” He raised a hand and a swarm of vampires flew through the doorway into the room, all attacking Jones en masse. Litton scrambled under a table and pulled a tapestry around and in front of him, praying that they would forget he was there. He sat, huddled in on himself, shaking with terror, trying not to think what so many vampires would do to a human they found in their midst when they were in the middle of a blood frenzy like these obviously were.
    Jones put up a hell of a fight, for being so outnumbered, but once one of the vamps ripped the silver chains off of Devon, it was all over. Emaciated and weak from hunger and torture—it made no difference. Devon went after Jones, and the next thing Litton saw was Jones’s head rolling down the middle of the floor toward him, stopping only when it hit his feet.
    “Oh, God, oh, God, oh, God,” he stammered, knowing it was the end for him.
    Devon, who had immediately ripped the chains off Deirdre and now stood cradling her in his arms, stared across the room at Litton. “You were here to report, Dr. Litton. So report.”
    Litton blinked, afraid to answer. Afraid to breathe. Also afraid he’d pissed in his pants. He froze, not moving or speaking.
    Smith’s face appeared as he bent down, grabbed Litton’s ankle, and yanked him out of his hiding place.
    “I said, report,” Devon repeated, and there was something in his tone that told Litton he would not repeat himself again.
    Litton scrambled to his feet, cursing all vampires in his mind, and himself for ever getting involved with them. “Brennan is ours, sir. He took so long, and Smitty thinks he’s some kind of creature, not quite human, but the scans say human, and anyway, three days of treatments at max was long enough. He’s docile enough, and he’ll sign anything we want. We can begin transferring his funds to the institute’s accounts.”
    Devon nodded. “Good. Make sure he is unharmed. No more treatments until I can evaluate him. We may want to use him as the public face of our research, along with yourself, of course, Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    and if he’s a drooling idiot, it would defeat our purposes.”
    Litton nodded and bobbed his head, practically bowing, anything to get out of there alive.
    “Mr. Smith, would you be kind enough to ensure Dr. Litton makes it back to his lab safely?”
    Devon shifted his grip on Deirdre, but did not put her down. “I worry that a hungry vampire might . . . detain him.”
    Smith laughed. “How do you know I won’t detain him?”
    Devon’s smile was less than reassuring to Litton, who already hated him. “All in good time, Mr.
    Smith. All will come to those who stand by my side.”
    Smith cast a cool, assessing glance around the room and then down at Jones’s head, still lying on the floor but slowly dissolving into slime. Litton felt his belly lurch at the sight of it.
    “I like to back the winning horse,” Smith said.
    “Don’t we all?” Devon replied. “Now go.”
    They went.

Chapter 35
    Yellowstone National Park, Pack Headquarters
    Alaric materialized from the mist in the shadows under a tree, hidden from the sunrise. He wanted—no, needed—a moment of peace before they saw him. A moment to prepare himself to see her again.
    Quinn.
    After so many long years of celibacy, of