Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

ring.
    “Speaking of diapers, as much fun as it is to watch the two of you all sweaty and shirtless, I’m off to change your son’s. See you both at breakfast?” Riley leaned up to kiss her husband, and Alaric had to look away from the depth of emotion the two shared. But even he, who had been alone for so long and had little prospect for ever being anything but, could not begrudge his prince and friend the love and happiness he’d found with Riley.
    Conlan watched his wife and child as they headed off toward the palace, but then he sighed and turned toward Alaric. “What news?”
    “None good, unfortunately. The scientists Brennan and Tiernan stopped in the United States were not the only ones working toward shifter enthrallment. Europe has a great number of underemployed scientists who are working toward the same goal, evidently. Our sources tell us that not only has the continuing vampire enthrallment of shifters spread to Europe, but someone very highly placed in either Interpol or Scotland Yard’s new Paranormal Ops division is the ringleader.”
    Conlan smashed his fist into his palm and swore. “The bad news keeps on coming. What is the European plan?”
    Alaric raised his hand, palm up, and a glowing blue-green sphere of energy spread out to form the shape of Europe. He clenched his fist and it disappeared. “The vampire alliances are growing. The rumor is that an international consortium of vampires has formed, and it is planning a concerted strike on all human rebels, using enthralled shifters.”
    “Quinn and her counterparts have finally hit them hard enough to hurt, have they?”
    Alaric was proud that he barely flinched at her name. “Your wife’s sister is the rebel leader of all of North America, Conlan.” And the woman Alaric loved. Not that he would ever be able to say the words aloud.
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 47 of 188
    Conlan looked at him with some sympathy, and Alaric deliberately removed any expression from his face. “Quinn is constantly in touch with other rebels throughout the world. Though the new laws are making rebel offensives more difficult.”
    In spite of the dangers vampires represented, or perhaps because of them, more and more human nations were passing laws guaranteeing the vampires equal protection under the law. Shifters, as well.
    Alaric had no problem with that—most shifters were simply trying to live their lives in peace. The few who had gone rogue were the equivalent of the human populace’s criminal element.
    But if the vampires succeeded in enthralling shifters, when they had never before been able to do so, they would have a ready-made army of warriors far more powerful than any human soldiers. And shifters could create more shifters easily and quickly. At the very least, it would be a bloodbath of apocalyptic proportions.
    “Christophe is in London, isn’t he?”
    “As you well know, having sent him there,” Alaric replied, raising one eyebrow. “Your point?”
    “Let’s let him investigate. He’s already there, anyway. We’ll send Denal over to help.”
    “You’re worried about Christophe, aren’t you?”
    Conlan turned toward the palace and started walking, and Alaric fell into step beside him. “Aren’t you?”
    the prince said. “He’s close to going over a deadly edge lately—too much power and too little focus. I fear if we don’t give him something to concentrate on that he feels is worthwhile, we’ll lose him.”
    “He should have entered the priesthood,” Alaric said darkly. “He has far too much magical power to be running around playing at swords.”
    “Like the rest of us brainless warriors?” Conlan aimed a not-very-amused look at his friend.
    “That’s not what I meant, and you well know it. If too much magic is left unchanneled and untrained, the wielder may become unstable. Mages have died—or killed—from simply going mad; and many of those had less power than Christophe.” Alaric’s mood darkened, thinking of one high priest in particular. The elders had banded together to kill Nereus before he could destroy all of Atlantis with his rage and magic, more than eight thousand years ago.
    “That’s why I sent him to London to retrieve the Siren. It should be an easy job, and he has always been drawn to that part of the world, in spite of what happened to him there.”
    “Or perhaps because of it,” Alaric said. “Akin to worrying a wound until it won’t heal.”
    “Can that