Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

kind works, and I have no desire to be indentured, or worse, to you,”
    Christophe snarled.
    “Oh, I could find something very pleasant for you to do,” Maeve purred.
    Fiona wanted to rip her eyes out.
    Denal burst into the room. “Can you believe they’re still playing that game? I think Sean is ahead, a zillion to one, but perhaps Declan is letting him win, since . . . oh. My apologies, Lady Fiona,” he said, all but skidding to a halt. “I did not realize you were still entertaining your guest.”
    Maeve’s eyes widened. “Oh, Fiona, you bad girl. Not one, but two of them? You must share, you know.”
    She crossed the room to Denal, and her walk was pure sex; a gentle sway making the most of her curves.
    Christophe watched her, and Fiona now wanted to scratch his eyes out.
    If this was jealousy, it was exhausting.
    “Why don’t you come play with me for a while, handsome man?” Maeve’s voice was honey and cream, whispering a tale of seduction older than time.
    Denal was clearly entranced. He bowed deeply. “I am Denal of Atlantis, my lady, and you are?”
    Christophe slammed his daggers back into their sheaths. “She is the Unseelie Court Fae I was just warning you about, and you are supposed to be undercover. Certainly not telling Unseelie Court princesses about Atlantis.”
    “Atlantis?” Maeve whirled around. “Oh, so that explains the smell and feel of your power. It has the resonance of the ocean crashing into the moonlit beach, sorcerer.”
    “I am no sorcerer, I am simply a humble warrior,” Christophe said.
    “Anything but humble, I think,” she answered, a dark light in her eyes. “But enough of this. I will give you a gift, none beholden, none owed. I do not know who has the sword, but fear the vampires have acquired it. The sometimes-leader of this region is an ancient vampire named Telios. Find him and you may find what you seek, although it is true there are factions who oppose him.”
    “Why would you help us?” Christophe asked.
    “Who says I’m helping you? Perhaps there is simply another I wish to oppose.” She laughed, a sound like silvery chimes mixed with a child’s laughter, and turned to Denal. “Come and play with me for a while, fair one.”
    “Yes,” Denal said, taking her hand. “I will.”
    “No!” Christophe leapt toward him, but it was too late. Maeve cast a magical barrier between them that shimmered like a net of the finest gauze, if gauze were made from diamond dust.
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 111 of 188
    “Willingly spoken, Atlantean,” Maeve said. “Take care of Fiona or I will have more than words for you when next we meet.”
    With that, she and Denal vanished.
    Fiona gasped and then fell back into her chair, her lungs suddenly unable to fill with air. She began relaxation breathing of long, slow inhales and exhales. “You know, I think that this was perhaps an inch or two beyond what my rational mind can take right now. Atlantis, magical gems, Fae royalty, and vampire attacks. Oh, and let’s not forget sex in museums. Now my best friend is a Fae princess who just stole your best friend. I’ve had it. I’m done. I’d like my straitjacket now, please.”
    “He’s not my best friend,” Christophe said.
    She let her head fall back on the chair and started laughing. “Right. Because that’s the important part of what I just said.”
    “Is one of your new books in here?”
    “You want to read? Now?”
    He just stared at her, clenching his jaw, and not in a good way, so she sighed and pointed to the bookshelves. “Bottom shelf on the left. It would be bad form to display my books like some sort of trophy, of course.”
    “Hopkins?”
    “Are you kidding? Hopkins would hang framed posters of all my covers in the foyer if I’d let him. That was a classic grandfather-ism, always going on and on about bad form. He’s probably rolling over in his grave to think I’m anything as common as a children’s book author.”
    He came up with a copy of The Forest Fairies and flipped through the pages as he walked over to her.
    Then he dropped the open book into her lap.
    “There. On the right.”
    She glanced down at the painting she knew so well, then back at him, puzzled. “Yes? What about it?”
    “What does he say? To the human child?”
    She looked again, but she knew. She knew. She recited it from memory, not needing to see the words on the page. “Oh, no. Oh, no. He says, ‘Come and play with me for a