Warriors of Poseidon 05 - Atlantis Redeemed

kicked out of Congress, the laws protecting our rights are going to be repealed next,” Devon said, widening his eyes as if this were the first time it had occurred to him.
    “And the damn shifters will be in line to fill in the gaps. After all, they have powerful lobbies selling the idea that they’re humans, just with a simple difference. A virus that makes them shift shape occasionally. They’re not dead like we are,” Jones said.
    Devon swirled the blood in his goblet, then put the glass down on the table. Cold blood held no appeal for him. “If we control the shifters, all power is in our hands. The rebels will have no chance against an alliance of vampire and shifter.”
    Jones slammed his fist on the table. “Not an alliance. We don’t ally with animals. We must control the shifters through this enthrallment procedure we’ve put so much time and money into. Only then can we count on total power.”
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    Devon inclined his head. “Of course. Why do you think I am spearheading this effort? I merely was pointing out that the effort must look like an alliance to the outside world, or a panic would ensue. Ultimately, we are no match for missiles fired from air force jets or bombs dropped on our strongholds. Human technology has come a long way from stakes, burning torches, and pitchforks.”
    A couple of the older vampires in the room shuddered, probably at centuries-old memories of angry mobs of villagers holding just those weapons.
    “What about Atlantis?” Jones suddenly asked.
    Devon went still. “Atlantis?”
    “There are too many rumors of vigilante warriors claiming to be Atlantean for us to ignore it,”
    Jones insisted. “Certainly they were involved in that raid on the Primus.”
    Devon laughed politely. “Did they bring the boogeyman with them? Or possibly the tooth fairy?”
    Jones snarled at him, baring his fangs. “Mock me if you will, but I know what I’ve heard, and only a fool ignores a very real threat.”
    “When I hear of a very real threat, I’ll certainly pay attention. For now, can we put aside the idea of underwater fish men from the lost continent that Plato probably made up in the first place and get back to our plans?”
    “I’ve had enough of talking about it,” Smith said. “I say we vote. Right here and right now.
    Devon for Primator. None of the rest of us has the political connections or the money.”
    “That will change when we have this Brennan’s money in our control,” Jones challenged.
    Devon shrugged, feigning a casualness he did not feel. “I don’t want the job, but I’m willing to take it if you want me. Remember, though, that any vote is subject to one major contingency.”
    Some of them looked puzzled, and others looked scared, but only one of them had the courage to speak the name.
    “Anubisa,” Deirdre said, strolling over to Devon out of the corner from where she’d been studying the room. “Our not-so-benevolent goddess. Are you willing to be front and center on her to-do list, my love?”
    Devon bowed over her hand and kissed it. “Anything for you, my darling.”
    She threw back her head and laughed, and the sound of it shivered ice down his spine. “Let’s vote, then. All for Devon for Primator?”
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    Every hand in the room went up, save for Jones’s; he only glared at Devon.
    “If you want the job, please take it,” Devon said, bowing gracefully.
    Jones shook his head. “You know I don’t. I just don’t want you to have it, either. You’re a slippery son of a bitch, and I can smell something wrong about you. I just don’t know exactly what it is, yet.” He studied Devon for another minute, but then shook his head. “When I find out, I’m going to enjoy ripping your heart out of your chest.”
    Devon smiled. “I look forward to the challenge.”
    Deirdre folded her arms over her chest and looked at Jones. “Vote. Enough with the drama. Yea or nay for Devon for Primator.”
    Jones slowly raised his hand, and then turned his thumb up.
    Devon didn’t let any of them see the relief that nearly weakened his knees, but he did bow to the room in response to the scattered applause.
    “Congratulations, Primator,” Deirdre said, casting a mocking glance at Devon. “Will we now get a sheep in every pot?”
    “I thought it was chicken?”
    “I don’t like chicken,” she said, shuddering delicately.