by Alyssa Day
“As do I, my love,” Conlan said. “Perhaps you should take him somewhere more pleasant and I’ll tell you everything when we’re done here.”
Riley lifted her face for her husband’s kiss, and Brennan turned away. Beside him, Tiernan squeezed his arm again.
After Riley had said her good-byes and departed, the three of them that remained in the room stared at one another, somewhat at a loss.
“I’m going back,” Tiernan said. “If you try to hold me here against my will—”
“I’m going with her,” Brennan said, and she rewarded him with a brilliant smile.
“I’m not trying to stop you,” Conlan said, throwing himself down into a chair. “I’m going to suggest that we have a plan, though.”
“Like what?” Brennan wanted to pace the room, but forced himself to sit, pulling Tiernan down to sit next to him. “Conlan, they are torturing shifters, and humans. If they succeed in determining how to permanently enthrall either group, we will have lost this war before a single battle is joined. Whatever plan we develop, we must make sure that we waste no time.”
“Here is a plan, warrior,” Alaric said, suddenly back in the room and sitting in a chair across from Brennan. “If you ever hit me again, you’ll discover what torture really is.”
“I think I’ve had enough of you threatening Brennan,” Tiernan said, glaring at the priest. “Cut it out. Also, that poofing in and out is just annoying; has anyone ever told you that?”
Every nerve in Brennan’s body went on alert as he prepared for whatever terrible retribution Alaric might try to take, but he was completely unprepared for what the priest actually did: he smiled.
“You know, I like you, Truth Teller,” Alaric said.
“My verdict is still out on you, Priest,” she countered, but then her eyes widened and she smiled back at him. “That was truth. You do like me.”
“Or else I’m a sociopath,” he said, the power in his eyes flaring hot for a moment.
“Sometimes we have wondered,” Brennan told him.
Conlan tapped the table. “Enough. Let’s figure out what to do next.”
“There’s a chance our cover isn’t blown,” Tiernan said, going straight on the offense. “Brennan is set up to be an eccentric rich guy. What eccentric rich guy doesn’t take it in his head to do something out of the ordinary sometimes? So we went off the grounds. We can pretend we were, ah, we were . . .”
Brennan rescued her when he realized the rosy blush rising in her cheeks was all about what they actually had been doing, both the night before and this morning. His cock twitched at the memory and he had to do some quick, serious mental maneuvering to calm his newly raging libido. Just the thought of her flawless skin was enough to turn him into the youngling he’d accused Alaric of being. He hadn’t had to fight a cock stand in an inappropriate place in more than two thousand years.
“One thing is definite,” Alaric said. “We cannot allow these vampires to enthrall either group. Certainly not in light of the prophecy. We will need them all as allies. Even the Fae, I fear.”
It was the first Brennan had heard of a prophecy that needed allies. “What prophecy?”
Conlan and Alaric exchanged a look that—just for a second—left Brennan feeling uncomfortably like an outsider.
“It’s not important right now,” Alaric said dismissively.
“That is a lie,” Tiernan shot back. “A big lie. Huge. Want to try again?”
Conlan tilted his head, but his considering gaze was aimed at Brennan, not Tiernan. “How much do you trust her? She is a reporter, after all.”
“With my life,” he said without hesitation. “That is, after all, what she already holds in her hands, through means of the curse.”
“So you have no choice,” Alaric said.
“I want no other choice.”
Tiernan waved her hands around. “I’m right here, boys. Right here, in the room. Talk to the nice reporter, and not around her.”
Conlan and Alaric exchanged another glance, but then Alaric, surprisingly enough, answered, “It’s the Ragnarok. It’s coming all over again.”
“The Gotterdammerung?” Brennan blurted out. “You truly believe this?”
“The Doom of the Gods?” Tiernan said, her brows drawn together. “He’s not lying,” she told Brennan. “But why is Poseidon’s priest worried about Norse mythology?” She shot a sly look at Alaric. “Confused, much?”
Conlan answered her. “Simply because primitive peoples tried to order their world and their gods by regional pantheons does not mean the world or the heavens ever actually worked that way. Did you never wonder why an Egyptian death goddess leads the vampires?”
“Anubisa?” Tiernan said the name with the loathing befitting the abomination who had killed and consumed thousands over many lifetimes. “Egyptian?”
“She claims to be daughter-wife to Anubis,” Brennan said, revulsion snaking up his spine at the thought. “More important, though, when and where did this new prophecy originate?”
“We have learned much that was previously undiscovered since Keely started working with her. Her object-reader Gift has helped us find objects hidden in plain sight, even within the walls of the palace,” Alaric said. “This scroll was found hidden in the base of a statue of Poseidon in the library. Heavy magic protected it, and Keely was knocked unconscious merely from touching the outside of the statue.”
“I am sure Lord Justice was very happy about that,” Brennan said, wondering how many warriors had ended up in the healing chambers because of Justice’s rabidly protective nature. Then again . . . He stole a look at Tiernan’s profile. He’d have done the same himself.
“Not only must we return the remaining gems to the Trident for Atlantis to rise, but we now must facilitate the eventual intermarriage of all races with Atlanteans,” Conlan said. “The prophecy is short and quite to the point: The Doom of the Gods is on the horizon. Only a child born of all races, ruling Atlantis into the future, will prevent it.”
“Sounds like Keely is helping you guys out quite a bit,” Tiernan pointed out. “I hope you’re paying her a lot.”
“I would give her the crown jewels themselves, were they mine to give, for the nature of her revelations about Nereus and Zelia,” Alaric muttered.
Tiernan raised an eyebrow, and Brennan gave her the short version. “Priests were evidently able to marry and have families in ancient times, so apparently the vow of celibacy is a new development. Alaric finds this to be—”
“Useful knowledge?” she interrupted. “Fabulous? Holy crap, happy day, crazy good? The future’s looking bright for you, my friend.”
Alaric narrowed his eyes at Tiernan’s remarks. “The future will be bright or dark, with or without me.”
“You will not abandon the priesthood for Quinn,” Conlan said firmly. “Not now when your people need you. When we need you.”
Alaric turned anguished eyes to his prince. “Really? You, of all men, would try to use that argument against me? After you were fully willing to abdicate the throne itself for Riley?”
Tiernan cleared her throat. “Maybe we can argue the fate of all Atlantis and the world later? Right now we need to get back to that hotel or we may as well give it up as a lost cause. We can come up with a cover story that may just barely keep us out of trouble, but not if we delay any longer.”
Conlan frowned. “Brennan, this decision I leave to you. Can you handle this mission with the curse and your unbound emotions hanging over you like the Sword of Damocles itself?”
“I can handle anything,” Brennan said quietly. “So long as I am with her.”
Conlan sighed and shook his head. “You know, that’s how it starts. Alaric has a point about the diaper changing.”
Brennan inclined his head. “Yes. You will remember I was with you when you first spent time with Riley.”
“I’m not pregnant,” Tiernan said, the flood of indignation in her voice reducing it to a squeak. “It was—”
/> “Something we can discuss later,” Brennan said firmly. “For now, we’re going back to Yellowstone to stop these vampires and their scientist flunkies.”
As if on cue, they all stood up from the table, and Conlan bowed to Brennan and Tiernan. “Keep me informed. I’ll rally the warriors and send in reinforcements, but for now you’re on your own.”
“No, he’s not. I’m his backup,” Tiernan said.
“All of humanity and the entire shifter community are depending on you, small one?” Alaric said, rolling his eyes.
Tiernan whipped a small canister out of her backpack and held it up. “Hey. I’ve got pepper spray, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
Alaric was still laughing seconds later when she whirled around and brought a sharpened wooden stake in a rapid strike to stop only inches away from his throat.
“People underestimate me,” she said. “I use it.”
“People fear me,” Brennan said. “I use that.”
Alaric looked back and forth between the two of them, that gleam of amusement still in his eyes. He finally smiled, and the stake in Tiernan’s hand glowed a hot green and she yelped and dropped it.
“I don’t care what people think about me,” Alaric said. “But come with me, Brennan. I have something that might help.”
Chapter 22
Mammoth Hot Springs Hotel
Brennan’s warrior senses shot to high alert when Lucas’s Pack driver pulled the limousine into the hotel driveway. “We’re on,” he told Tiernan, who’d been clenching and unclenching her hands for the entirety of the short drive.
“Thank you,” Tiernan said to the driver. “Please thank Lucas for meeting us and providing us with the car, too.”
The driver nodded, and Brennan suddenly realized the man hadn’t spoken a single word since they’d climbed into the ridiculous vehicle. He’d put his hand on the door handle, when the driver surprised him by finally speaking up.
“They were my friends. The ones that those scientists took and messed up their minds? They were my friends. Make sure you get these bastards and call us when you need help,” he said, more than a little of the wolf in his voice.
“We will. You have my word,” Brennan said.
The driver met Brennan’s gaze in the rearview mirror and then nodded again. “You’re friend to Lucas, so your word is good enough for me.”
Tiernan put a hand on the driver’s shoulder for a moment, and then the door opened and the hotel bellhop leaned down. “Checking in, folks?”
Brennan exited the vehicle and extended a hand to Tiernan to assist her in climbing out, but he didn’t let go of her hand once she had.
“No, we’re just coming back from a little overnight jaunt,” she said cheerfully. “All rested and ready to go. How’s the conference going?”
“Everything is running very well, ma’am.” The bellhop accepted Brennan’s tip and rushed ahead of them to open the door.
Once they entered the lobby, the first person they saw was Dr. Litton, hurrying toward them.
“They must have had a lookout for us,” Tiernan murmured.
“Undoubtedly.”
“Mr. Brennan,” Litton called out as he crossed the lobby toward them. “We’ve been looking for you. Where have you been?” He pointedly ignored Tiernan.
Tiernan, of course, wasn’t about to stand idly by for that. She flashed him a charming smile. “Oh, hello, Dr. Litton. We went out for a drive in the moonlight and wound up staying out all night. It was so romantic, don’t you think, honey?”
It took Brennan a couple of seconds to realize she was talking to him with that last, and another couple of seconds to banish his stupid smile from being called “honey.”
“It was an excellent journey,” he agreed. “We were so caught up in the . . . scenery . . . that we wound up touring the entire area.”
Litton’s narrow-eyed gaze darted between Brennan and Tiernan as if he were trying to decide if they were telling the truth or not.
Brennan, telling himself it was for their cover, casually pulled Tiernan into his arms and kissed her so thoroughly that he nearly forgot they were standing in the middle of a very public place. When he finally released her, something flashed in the corner of his brain—a glimpse of nearly forgotten memory, elusive as moonlight on choppy waves. The barest glimpse of her curves, shining wet in the shower the night before.
He did remember her. He would always remember her.
He’d worry about the how later.
Litton cleared his throat quite loudly. “Well. Yes. How lovely for you. But science waits for no one, and we have quite a lot to cover. If you’ll come with me, we have transportation ready to show you something I’m sure you’ll find very much worth your time.”
Brennan raised an eyebrow. “Ten million dollars’ worth of my time?”
Litton’s pasty face turned a little bit paler, but he nodded. “Definitely. You will be very, very pleased. Shall we?”
The doctor gestured that they should precede him out the door, and Brennan glanced down at Tiernan once their backs were to Litton. She shook her head in a tiny gesture, barely noticeable, but clear enough for him to know that she’d caught the truth.
Litton was lying. He didn’t expect Brennan to be pleased at all.
As they walked back through the doors they’d just entered, a pair of shiny black vehicles rolled up, gleaming in the afternoon sun. They were enormous, not long like the limousine, but square and high like army tanks. More ridiculous consumption of fuel. Didn’t these humans realize they were the custodians of the planet?
“Hummers,” Tiernan murmured. “Compensation for small penises.”
He couldn’t keep the laugh from escaping. “You continually surprise me,” he told her.
She smiled a mysterious female smile. “Good.”
Litton joined them and pointed to the first of the two vehicles. “We can travel in this one, Mr. Brennan, and Ms. Baum can ride with our second group.”
Tiernan’s hand tightened convulsively on Brennan’s, and he stared down at Litton. “She goes with me.”
Litton made a few sputtering noises of protest, but Brennan ignored them completely and crossed to the vehicle, helping Tiernan climb up into the seat.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his ear.
He climbed up next to her and pulled the door shut, leaving Litton to climb into the front seat next to the driver, who was yet another goon. This one was thickly muscled with a bald head and tattoos on his neck, but he obviously wasn’t a vampire, given the time of day. Shifter, maybe?
Before he could ask, Tiernan did it for him.
“Yeah,” the guy replied, after looking at Litton. “I’m with the local Pack here in the park.”
Tiernan touched the back of Brennan’s hand and made a back-and-forth motion with her fingertip, telling him that the shifter was lying about being in Lucas’s Pack. Interesting. What motivation could he have to do that? They had no knowledge that Brennan knew Lucas, did they?
A darker thought occurred. What if this were one of Litton’s enthralled shifters—an experiment? What if he went crazy with whatever had infected the others? Brennan regretted allowing Tiernan to enter the vehicle first; now she sat directly behind the driver, in his reach if he twisted around. Shifters were quick, even in close quarters, as he’d had many occasions to observe over the centuries.
Brennan would just have to be quicker. He touched the pocket of his jeans, reassuring himself that the small bottle Alaric had given him was still there. His secret weapon, if they were . . . detained.
As the shifter put the vehicle into gear and drove away from the hotel, Litton started a stream of general commentary on the local sights, what had happened thus far in the conference, and so on. A nervous talker. Brennan hated nervous talkers.
Tiernan leaned across him to gaze out his window, and the warm weight of her body against his nearly made him groan. Memories of their lovemaking that morning were not conducive to keeping
him sharp and alert in the presence of potential and proven enemies.
“Look at how beautiful it is here,” she said, pointing to the shimmer of water through the trees. “Let’s take some time after the conference and explore it, okay?”
She turned her head to smile up at him, and her lips were only a breath away from his, so it was only natural that he’d lean forward and close that space. As fleeting as a forgotten wish, yet even such a brief touch from her lips still had the power to spark liquid gold inside the dark crevasses of his soul.
Brennan had to grin: oh, how Ven would mock him if he’d heard that thought.
“I’ll take that evil grin as a yes,” Tiernan said, straightening up and moving back into her side of the seat. “I’ve heard the waterfalls here are spectacular.”
Litton, who’d been droning on about waterfalls earlier, made a snorting noise, settled into his seat, shoulders hunched, and quit talking altogether. As much as Brennan appreciated the silence, he knew he should be doing something to advance their cover story. He leaned forward a l ittle.
“Tell me more about the lab, Dr. Litton. I understand it is in a very secure location?”
Litton twisted around in his seat. “Definitely secure. We wouldn’t want your money to be in any danger, would we, now?” He laughed at his own wit, and Brennan frowned. There was an edge of madness there, to be sure. Not that most true geniuses didn’t have that streak of incipient madness, and Litton was nothing if not a genius. His research and discoveries in mapping the brain and ways to manipulate brain chemistry and function were nothing short of miraculous.
That’s why they were all here, after all. Just the crazy scientist, the brainless reporter, and the not-very-perceptive billionaire.
Tiernan shot him a look, and he realized he’d tightened his grip on her hand so much that he was probably hurting her. He instantly released her.
“I’m sorry, mi—Tracy,” he said quietly.
“No worries. Good as new.” She wiggled her fingers to show him.
