Warriors of Poseidon 06 - Atlantis Betrayed

her arm and put a hand on his chest. “I like it.” She kissed him, but he forced himself not to linger over the taste of her lips. Not in the parking lot of a shape-shifter pub.
    “I’ve never been here before,” she said, looking up at the pub’s sign. A full moon, painted a stark white against the dark wood, dripped a single crimson drop onto the words “The Melting Moon.” “Beautiful sign. I wonder how old it is. Pub signs have become a hot collectible, did you know that? Some of the old names are so evocative, like this one. I always like the ones with animal names and figures. The White Boar, the Blue Sow—”
    “The Red Dragon,” he said, smiling at a distant memory.
    “Oh, you’ve been in a few pubs in your centuries, haven’t you? It’s hard to remember that you’re so ancient.” She dodged when he tried to grab her.
    “I’ll show you ancient later when I get you alone and naked.”
    “Now, there’s a promise I like,” she said, putting her arm through his. “Come on, let’s go and meet some werewolves. Maybe we’ll meet an American one, here in London. Get it?”
    He didn’t understand why she started laughing when he shook his head.
    “I’m not sure there will be any American wolf shifters here, and they prefer that term, by the way. The word ‘werewolf’ is a grave insult. Most stay near their home packs.”
    She laughed harder, and then she started humming something about werewolves in London. He was beginning to realize he understood far less about women than he’d ever suspected.
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors of Poseidon 06
    Page 132 of 188
    The first thing he noticed when they walked into the pub was the spicy, almost pungent scent of wolves.
    Lots and lots of wolves. The crush of bodies in a fairly small space made him twitchy, but they needed information and he’d learned that this was the home base of the London pack alpha and her mate.
    “Are you sure this is the right place?” Fiona had to speak almost directly into his ear to be heard over the din of conversation and the pounding beat of rock music. Her warm breath on his ear made his cock twitch, and he firmly told it to behave.
    First he was talking to pigeons, now body parts. This was not good.
    “I smell human.” A shifter who looked about the size of an orca lurched over from the bar to stand in front of Fiona, swaying and drunkenly leering at her. “Want to give me a little taste, sweetkins?”
    She took a step back and tilted her head to look all the way up into the drunk’s face. “Right, then.
    Definitely the right place.”
    Christophe sighed. “I knew I’d wind up in a fight if we came here, but I didn’t think it would happen this early.”
    “I knew this was too much cleavage,” Fiona said, peering down at the creamy expanse that her very low-cut shirt exposed.
    “Oh, Princess. I hear the words ‘too much cleavage,’ but my brain doesn’t understand the meaning.” He winked at her, so hopefully she got that he was kidding and not turning into a lecherous pig. Although lately, around her . . .
    “I’m taking your woman, funny boy,” the shifter mumbled. “Wanna play with the pretty human.”
    “I beg your pardon,” Fiona said, all haughty lady of the manor. It was kind of hot, especially combined with her sex-kitten disguise. “Please address your comments to me. The human does not want to play with you. Be on your way.”
    She made shooing motions with her hands, and Christophe sighed again. Like waving a red flag in front of a Minotaur. The shifter, predictably, snarled, showing a tangle of yellowed and broken teeth.
    “Dental care, my friend. The great blessing of the modern age,” Christophe advised him.
    The enraged shifter turned his attention away from Fiona, fisting his enormous hands. If he landed a punch, he might knock Christophe into next week. Best not to let him land a punch.
    He stepped into the arc between the man’s burly arms, and before the angry drunk could form his next thought, Christophe had one dagger digging its tip into his throat and a second into his balls. The shifter made a noise between a yelp and a squeak, higher-pitched than Christophe would have thought the hulking man could utter.
    “You’ll leave the pretty human alone now?”
    The shifter nodded carefully, since his motion caused the dagger to slice a bit of the flesh from his neck.
    “Just funning,” he muttered as his blood trickled down his skin.
    Atlantis Betrayed – Warriors