Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

Christophe. Those spears had been terrifyingly real, but how many times had she wished for a bucket of water to drench her joker of a brother? The smile threatening to break free of the tight clamp she had on her lips faded, though, when she realized all that water was soaking her sofa, table, and the surrounding area. Even Hopkins hadn’t escaped entirely, and he looked about to murder Christophe at any moment.
    “Fabulous. You’ve got a store of parlor tricks, and you’ve drenched my furnishings. Does any of your magic show include picking up the bill for the cleaning?” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him, which made not the slightest dent in that cocky grin of his.
    “As a matter of fact,” he said, raising his hands in the air again. She tried not to notice the sculpted muscles in his forearms beneath his rolled-up sleeves, but she was only human, after all.
    Which, as he seemed to be trying to tell them, he might not be. Which was brilliant. She’d only just been hoping for more complications in her life.
    Christophe gestured and a warm breeze swept through the room, flowing softly over Fiona before moving on. As she watched, the water soaking Declan and his surroundings simply disappeared. It didn’t dry, leaving her brother rumpled and wrinkled. No, it was just gone as if had never been there.
    Which, perhaps, it hadn’t been.
    “Sweet!” Declan yelled, patting himself and the pillows thoroughly. “Dry as a bone. That was awesome.
    Can you teach me that?”
    Fiona ignored him. “Illusion?” She’d no sooner said the word than Hopkins was shaking his head.
    “Definitely not. That water was real. A fine trick, and quite powerful,” he said, frowning at Christophe.
    “But still no proof of this fantastic tale of the lost continent.”
    “It was never lost. We just hid it,” Christophe told him.
    “Of course,” Fiona said, throwing her own hands up in the air. Sadly, that didn’t cause any wild magical incident or she would have made them all disappear. She needed a nap and a headache tablet, not necessarily in that order. “You hid it. So how did you get here? Submersible? Dolphins? Magic bubbles?”
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 68 of 188
    He lifted an eyebrow, and those wickedly gorgeous green eyes of his began to glow. “Magic bubbles is actually pretty close. We have a magic portal.”
    Hopkins rolled his eyes. “A magic portal. Of course you do. And probably a yellow submarine, too. I’ve had enough of this, Lady Fiona. I still suggest we throw the man out and take our chances. After all, if he discloses your identity, we can happily tell the authorities about his little expedition to the Jewel House, can’t we?”
    “Hopkins! You rolled your eyes,” Declan said, grinning. “The nation will surely fail at any moment.”
    “I can call the portal and we’ll all take a step through to Atlantis,” Christophe gritted out. “Bunch of cynics.”
    “I believe you,” Declan said.
    “You believe in forest fairies, too,” Fiona pointed out.
    “And Saint Nicholas, until you were at least thirteen,” Hopkins added.
    “Hey, a sense of wonder is not a bad thing,” Declan said, blushing.
    Christophe closed his eyes, clenched his jaw, and raised his hands in the air again. Fiona caught her breath, in equal parts worry and anticipation. What would he conjure up this time?
    They all leaned forward, waiting . . . waiting.
    And, finally, after two long minutes—nothing happened.
    Christophe opened his eyes and blew out a breath, then muttered a long string of words in a language Fiona had never heard, though it had a bit of the fluidity and musicality of Italian. Maybe Italian crossed with Greek, on second thought.
    From the tone of his voice and the way he glared viciously at the empty space in front of him, she had the feeling she didn’t want to know the translation.
    “Magic portal out of service?” she suggested sweetly. “Down for repairs?”
    “Water damage, maybe,” Declan said, breaking into a fresh peal of laughter, in spite of what had happened to him the last time.
    “The portal can be capricious,” Christophe snapped. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like opening.”
    “The door has feelings,” Hopkins said slowly before turning to Fiona. “Lady Fiona, I fear we should call the home for madmen. Unfortunate that Bedlam closed. He’d have fit in quite well there.”
    She ignored Hopkins’s jibes and studied