Warriors of Poseidon 05 - Atlantis Redeemed

transformed into mist, shooting through the air in an unerring straight path toward his woman.
    Must find the woman. Must find her now.
    Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel
    Tiernan closed the door and leaned back against it. Her room was standard-issue hotel: plaid bedspread on the king bed, phone, lamp, and Internet connection on the desk, and the room Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    service breakfast menu propped up on her pillows. Clean, bright, and bland, but after all, nobody came to Yellowstone for the hotel décor. She crossed the room and sat on the edge of her bed, dropped her bag, and kicked off the stupid shoes, tossing them at the too-small wastebasket over by the desk. One crisis solved: she’d never wear the damn things again.
    Now all she had to do was solve the mystery of the vamp who’d bitten her, the vamps who were enthralling shape-shifters, and the scientists who were helping them. With or without Atlantean help, she decided, as she checked her phone for nonexistent messages from what she’d come to think of as the underwater contingent. They weren’t much for modern technology.
    The single window drew her across the room, and she checked and double-checked that it was locked, even though she was on the third floor. Everything she knew about vampires said that they couldn’t enter a home uninvited, but nobody knew for sure what the outer limits of that rule were. Nobody but the vamps, and they weren’t talking. Did a hotel room count as a home?
    She rather doubted it.
    Worse, did the blood he’d taken from her allow him special privileges with her—to her? Would she become his Renfield?
    She rolled her eyes, impatient with her own stupidity. Renfield. Please.
    She took her toiletries bag to the bathroom and starting unpacking the little bit of makeup she’d brought with her. Sparkly eye shadow and glossy lips would help the scientists underestimate her. Fluffy reporters were nothing to worry about, after all. She’d already prepared the way through e-mails and phone calls so they thought she was there for a few sound bites on the wonderful medical breakthroughs humans and shape-shifters were making in the spirit of joint cooperation.
    Yeah. Right. Maybe that was happening somewhere, but not with this group. They had a deeper, darker purpose, and it was up to her to find out exactly who, what, where, when, and why. She set the gleaming tube of mascara on the counter and made the mistake of looking into the mirror. The smear of blood on her neck highlighted the two small puncture holes, and the black circles under her eyes from weeks of restless nights made her look like she was half-vamp herself.
    She wet a washcloth and poured half of the travel-sized bottle of antibacterial gel on it, then gritted her teeth and cleaned her neck. Once the blood was gone, the punctures were barely visible. A little makeup would cover up the evidence, so nobody at the conference would be able to tell she’d served as the equivalent of vampire Cheetos.
    A little snack.
    Bastard.
    Something scraped against glass, and she dropped the washcloth. The noise had been so subtle Atlantis Redeemed – Warriors of Poseidon 05
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    that she might not have heard it if her nerves hadn’t shot straight to hyper-alert during the encounter with the vamp.
    He was back. He was back, and unfortunately, there were no wooden stakes in the dish with the complimentary soap and shampoo. Calling for backup would only get someone else killed with her; she knew the speed and strength of vampires very, very well. She grabbed the small glass tumbler and filled it with water, then whipped around and faced the window, ready to bluff.
    Ready to lie. She was so very good at lying.
    “I’m not an easy target now,” she called out, pleased that her voice remained so steady. “This is a glass filled with holy water, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
    But it wasn’t the vampire’s face at the window. It wasn’t any face at all, but a strange fog that was almost corporeal, almost sentient, the way it moved back and forth across the outside of her window, as if it sought a way to enter.
    She knew some vamps could fly, but could they turn into fog? Or was she hallucinating from blood loss?
    Tiernan’s hand trembled a little, and the water in the glass rippled. “Whatever you are, stay out.”
    As if it heard her, the fog froze to utter stillness, then receded. In the space of two of her rapid