Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

sounded in her heart. What he’d endured as a boy had forced him to develop the cold shell over his emotions. His warrior training had completed the job. She felt a moment’s despair that she would ever be able to break through to the man inside those barriers.
    “Lady Fiona?” Hopkins never sounded impatient, but this was edging close. “Your response?”
    “Please tell her we’ll be down soon and offer some refreshments or something, Hopkins.”
    “I have already provided tea and cakes, of course,” Hopkins said, and she could have sworn he sounded offended.
    The world might be in jeopardy, but nobody insulted Hopkins’s hospitality or service. She smiled a little at the few constants she’d known in her life: the sun, the moon, and Hopkins.
    “Thank you, Hopkins,” she called out, but all she heard was a hmph sort of sound.
    She and Christophe showered and dressed quickly, and in fewer than twenty minutes they were heading down the hallway to the stairs. The door to one of the guest rooms opened, and Denal stepped out.
    “Good night’s sleep?” Christophe asked, his eyes glowing a hot green.
    Denal’s eyes narrowed. He clearly took the comment as a rebuke. “I patrolled the house and grounds until five this morning, when Hopkins took over for me. Then I had a nap and then lunch and stuff with Declan and Sean. This was just a brief after-lunch catnap.” His scowl transformed into a grin. “Speaking of Hopkins, that man can fight, for a human. He showed me a few moves that would disarm any intruder in seconds flat.”
    “Hopkins has special talents,” Christophe said, relenting. “We’re going to meet a friend of Fiona’s who just happens to be Unseelie Court Fae.”
    Denal whistled long and low. “That’s not good. Aren’t we forming an alliance with the Seelie Court through Rhys na Garanwyn and his scary brother Kal’andel? They won’t like it if we get tangled up with the Unseelie Court.”
    “We don’t have any intention of getting tied up with them. We might tie her up, if she doesn’t cooperate.”
    “Sounds fun,” Denal said, grinning wickedly.
    Suddenly, the hallway felt full of far too much testosterone, and Fiona made a break for the stairs. “No one,” she said emphatically, “is tying Maeve up.”
    Maeve sat on the white sofa, her elegant form arranged as if the furniture served only as a pristine backdrop to her emerald-green dress and her overall impeccable perfection. Fiona searched her features closely, looking for any hint of Fae, and suddenly a realization hit her.
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 108 of 188
    “You’ve never aged,” she blurted out. “We’ve been friends for ten years, and you look exactly the same now as you did when we met.”
    “As I will for the next thousand years, undoubtedly,” Maeve replied, carefully placing her cup on its saucer on the tea table. “Of course your lover has told you what I am.”
    “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” Fiona felt inexplicably hurt. “All of these years of friendship?”
    “To what purpose? So that you could think of me as strange or different, or someone to fear? I have plenty of subjects and sycophants to do that. What I don’t have—what I never had, until you—was a friend.” She stood and took a step toward Fiona. “Our friendship has meant more to me than you can ever imagine.”
    “Stop right there, Fae,” Christophe commanded from the doorway. “Don’t touch her.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” Fiona snapped. She took the next step and hugged Maeve, as she’d done so many times in the past decade. “She’s my friend.”
    Christophe growled, actually growled, and she didn’t have to guess to know he was frustrated. Today was a great day, however, for him to realize he couldn’t order her around. Never put off a difficult task, Hopkins always said.
    Maeve hugged her back, hard, and then stepped away. Her dark eyes began to change, swirling with power, and she held her arms out to the side. An icy breeze carrying the scent of winter’s deepest night flowed through the room and centered on Maeve. She seemed to grow taller where she stood, and the sensation of a deep, terrifying power swept through Fiona, raising the hair on her arms.
    “Call me by my name, mortal,” Maeve said, her hair lifting in the breeze her power had created. Her voice was thunder and darkness given sound, the compulsion contained within it so powerful that Fiona had to grit her