Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

said, puzzled, “when I’m around Atlanteans, I get that a lot.”
    On the ground, Christophe started laughing. “Does this make me Lord Christophe?”
    “In your dreams,” Marcus advised.
    “Oh, no,” Christophe said, grinning that seductive, wicked smile. “My dreams are far more exciting than that.”
    “Here,” she said, holding the package out to him. “This is for you. From Hopkins.”
    Christophe opened it, still sitting on the ground, and then stared up at Fiona in astonishment. “Why on earth would Hopkins give me pajamas with barnyard animals on them?”
    As they explored the gardens together later that day, Christophe suddenly lifted Fiona in the air and swung her around.
    “Wait till our sons take up their first training swords,” he said, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “They will make us so proud. With magic plus might, they’ll be the toughest warriors ever to set foot—”
    “Oh, no. My sons are not going to go around sword fighting. They’re going to be doctors. Or teachers.
    Or—”
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 183 of 188
    “Daughters,” he said, wrapping a long strand of her hair around his fingers. “Beautiful, charming daughters, just like their mother. And the boys will be after them—wait. Damn boys. I’ll kill them. I’ll kill any boy who so much as—”
    “Ouch! That hair is attached,” Fiona said, extracting it from his fingers. “Maybe before you get your pants in a twist over our future children, you could tell me more about just how we’re going to go about getting all of these sons or daughters?”
    He bent down and lifted her into the air, then shouted out his joy and swung her around. “Maybe I could show you,” he said, bending to kiss her as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, right there on the path to the palace, in front of anybody who might care to pass by.
    When they could finally breathe again, he pulled her a little ways off the path, into the palace gardens, and dropped to one knee. “I know this is the way they do things in your world,” he said, every ounce of the love he felt for her naked on his face. Exposed and vulnerable, just like his heart.
    “Lady Fiona Campbell, will you spend the rest of your life with me?”
    Her answer shone like the bright Atlantean sun on her face and in her heart. “Oh, yes. Most definitely yes.”
    Turn the page for a special preview of Daniel’s Story in the Warriors of Poseidon Series VAMPIRES IN ATLANTIS
    By Alyssa Day
    Coming soon from Berkley Sensation!

Chapter 1
    Daniel looked out at the sea of red eyes glaring back at him in the vast chamber of the Primus and wondered, not for the first time, why the hell he’d ever wanted to be the ruler of the North American vampires. Also, he wondered how long it would be until the vampire goddess Anubisa discovered his ongoing betrayal and slowly tortured him to death.
    The goddess of Chaos and Night was really, really good at torture. It was her specialty, in fact.
    “So, shall we call you Daniel, then?” the vampire from South Carolina called out from behind the false safety of the rich mahogany wooden semicircular desk. His voice was a bizarre hissing drawl; Deep South meets bloodsucker. “Or Drakos? Maybe Devon? You have so many identities; we wouldn’t want to use the wrong one.”
    “You may call me Primator, Ruler of the Primus, the third house of the United States Congress. Or Sir. Or even Master, if you adhere to the old ways,” Daniel said, smiling. It wasn’t a nice smile. He made sure to show some fang.
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 184 of 188
    “Or you can call me the one who delivers you to the true and final death, if you continue to be an obstacle to these negotiations,” he continued, still polite. No longer smiling. “If we cannot work amicably and peacefully with the humans, we will find ourselves back to the days of angry mobs and wooden stakes and flaming torches. Except this time, the mobs have missiles instead of pitchforks.”
    The South Carolinian sat down abruptly and clamped his mouth shut, with not even a hint of fang showing. Daniel’s sense of victory was as fleeting as it was futile. They’d never agree. Humans were sheep to them, especially to the oldest ones. Predators couldn’t become politicians, and he had no wish to continue in the role of trying to lead them. It was, as his Atlantean friend Ven would say, like herding seahorses: a task that would always