Atlantis Betrayed

by Alyssa Day

  Christophe nodded.

  Understood. Thank you, Denal. Until we meet again.

  Gideon was still moving, striding along toward the far wall of the chamber, and Christophe followed. This time, they entered a room that, though filled with trees and flowers, was more like an enormous bedchamber than anything nature had created.

  Fiona, dressed in green silk, sat in a miserable, huddled ball in the middle of the bed.

  “Now. You have seen her. She is unharmed. Show me how to work the Siren. I know it enthralls shifters on a far larger scale than I have yet done. Whole countries will fall to my will with this at my command.” Gideon’s voice shook with excitement and greed.

  Fiona stared at Christophe in shock. “You’re here? You’re really here? All these weeks later?”

  “It was illusion, mi amara. I have been here the same length of time, and it has been only hours, not weeks.”

  She shook her head, disbelief written plainly on her face. He hated the thought that she’d been alone and afraid, and that she’d believed he hadn’t come for her. Perhaps that he wouldn’t come for her.

  Yet another black mark against Gideon.

  “She wouldn’t eat or drink while you were unconscious, at least not anything that Maeve herself didn’t give her,” the Fae said sullenly. “You warned her well, Atlantean. But now that I have you and the Siren, Fiona’s resistance shall soon fall, as well.”

  Christophe drank in the sight of her. His soul opened up all the way and invited her to be part of him for now and forever. A small stillness in her movements gave him reason to hope she had felt it.

  “Willingly spoken, Atlantean. Or else I have a special treat for you.” He clapped his hands and several enthralled shifters, bunched together, carried a heavy object into the room.

  “A very special treat, Christophe of Atlantis. Do what I ask, or I’ll put you in the box that I know you love so well.”

  Gideon waved his arm, and the shifters moved aside. When the last shifter had cleared his line of sight, something inside Christophe shattered and broke.

  Again.

  It was the exact box from his childhood. Impossible, but true. He was immediately four years old again, wanting to beg, knowing it would do no good.

  Finally begging, anyway, because he was unable to do other.

  He clamped his lips together against the howl that threatened to break free and forced his mind to regroup, again. Forced his will to strengthen, again. For Fiona.

  Gideon threw his head back and laughed, long and loud.

  Christophe vowed to kill him just for that laugh. The rest of his reasons would be merely icing on the cake of his vengeance. That laugh, in the face of his parents’ murder and a little boy’s torture, was judge, jury, and executioner.

  “You’re going to die for this,” he said softly.

  “I find I must have you climb in the box simply for my amusement,” Gideon replied, a horrible smile spreading across his face. “Now, I think.”

  Suddenly, the Fae was standing behind Fiona and holding a silver knife to her throat. “Or I kill her.”

  “The mother of your future children?” Christophe was proud his voice didn’t shake or waver.

  Gideon shrugged. “I can find another. But you—your pain and terror is so delicious. Just like your parents’ life force, all those years ago. I must have yours. Get in the box.”

  Fiona cried out, and a thin trail of blood trickled down her neck. “Don’t do it, Christophe. Don’t let him break you. He’ll kill me anyway. Just get out now. Save yourself.”

  Christophe looked at the box, and he looked back at Gideon. And then he smiled. “I’ll climb in your damn box as many times as you like. Or I’ll show you how to work this pretty gem.” He held up the Siren. “I won’t do both, and I won’t do either until you let her go.”

  Gideon threw Fiona on the bed. “I don’t care about her. Just show me how to use the jewel. The full power, as you willingly promised, Atlantean.”

  “The full power, Fae,” Christophe said. He held the Siren up in the air, calling on Poseidon for aid. He pushed his battered, aching mind to focus harder than it ever had before and pull more power than he had ever channeled.

  “Full power,” he shouted. “For Atlantis!”

  He pushed. With everything he had and everything he was, he pushed power through the aquamarine and focused every ounce of his own magic and the magic of the gem to do exactly what it had been created to do, but with a little tweak of his own. Christophe did what he had willingly promised to do.

  He used the full power of the Siren to enthrall a Fae prince.

  Chapter 39

  The air swirled with shadows, and suddenly Fiona leapt from the bed and raced across the room to stand between Gideon and Christophe. From the air itself, the shadows wavered and re-formed into the image of Justice’s sword, which she held in arms trembling with its weight.

  “Come near him and I’ll kill you myself,” she told the Fae, her voice quiet and deadly. “He is mine and I won’t give him up so easily.”

  Christophe stared at the sword, wondering if the blow to his head had damaged his mind. “How did you—”

  “I took a chance and shadowed it, hoping the magic door to Fae Wonderland would recognize me as part Fae and let me in carrying it,” Fiona said. “Remember when I talked to Justice? I borrowed it and hid it under my coat.”

  “I can’t believe he let you touch his precious sword.”

  “I can’t believe we’re talking about this now,” she snapped.

  She was right. He called to power every element he could touch, and sent fire and water and earth and air soaring through his body, through his magic, toward the Fae. Right now, he needed to verify that he really had enthralled Gideon.

  Atlantean power met Fae power and question met answer. Christophe had succeeded in wielding the Siren correctly. Gideon na Feransel, prince of the Unseelie Court, was firmly in Christophe’s power.

  “Maybe I should make him dance,” Christophe muttered.

  “Maybe you should get on with it, so I can put this sword down.”

  Christophe marveled at her courage and strength and was so humbled by her love that again, just for an instant, he felt that he could never deserve her. Then he looked at the hated box and back at Fiona, and he realized that they deserved each other.

  “We’re better together than apart,” he said. “Isn’t that what love truly means?”

  She almost dropped the sword. “I’m a little busy here for philosophical discussions. Come on, we have to get out of here before he hits us with some kind of Fae super whammy.”

  Christophe carefully took the sword, placed it on the edge of the bed, and then pulled his protesting love into his arms and kissed her thoroughly.

  “There will be no whammy, super or otherwise. I have enthralled him with the gem he sought so hard to control.”

  He watched the realization dawn on her face. “Willingly spoken. But all you promised was to show him the full power. Which you did, by ramming it down his throat.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Have I told you how much I love you?”

  “You can spend an eternity telling me,” he said seriously. “It will never be enough.”

  “Will you do me a favor?”

  “Anything.”

  She pointed to the box. “Destroy that damn thing.”

  “Gladly.” He sent ball after ball of pure blue energy smashing into the hated box until it exploded into tiny shards of wood. Fiona and he watched from behind his energy shield as it burned and, after ensnaring the Fae in a web of glittering strands of power, he turned to his woman and kissed her senseless.

  Declan burst into the room. “Hey, cut out the mushy stuff. Let’s get out of here. I feel waterlogged.”

  Fiona rushed over to hug her brother, who hugged her back for a minute then squirmed out of her embrace.

  “Are you safe? Maeve told me you were, but I didn’t believe her,” Fiona
said, tears streaming down her face. “She—I can’t ever trust her again. They wouldn’t let me see you and I was so afraid.”

  “I’m fine, Fee,” Declan said, blushing. “Tip-top. Let’s go, already. I marked the way out.”

  “What a good idea,” a new voice said.

  “Maeve. Where is Denal? Are you okay?” Fiona hesitated, but then started to go to her friend. Christophe held her back. Here, in this place, Maeve was not the woman Fiona had loved.

  And yet the Fae princess’s face softened and she smiled. Maybe Christophe was wrong, but he still wasn’t taking the chance. Not with Fiona, not ever again.

  “Only you would worry over my well-being, Fiona,” Maeve said. “So I will grant you another boon, neither repayment nor debt owed.”

  With that, she waved a hand and Justice’s sword flew through the air and neatly beheaded Gideon. Fiona buried her face in Christophe’s shoulder in horror, but he inclined his head toward Maeve. “My thanks, my lady. That boon is one I happily accept, although I would have enjoyed doing it myself. Both for Fiona and for my parents.”

  “Perhaps, for once, you do not have to be the dealer of death,” Maeve said. “Had you not rescued Fiona, he never would have given her up, and she is my friend, not a whore to be held captive as a sex slave,” she said, and the ice and thunder in her voice made him glad that he had not made her an enemy. On the floor, Gideon’s body and head dissolved into a fine sparkling dust and then vanished.

  “He was rogue, my wicked, scheming brother,” she continued. “Running rampant, working out of the hierarchy in the Unseelie Court. A mere upstart trying to take over my line and curry favor with our queen, my lady mother.”

  “So this is a family squabble,” Fiona said, raising her head. “All of this for that? I don’t believe it.”

  “The world is in a state of unbalance since Anubisa, the vampire goddess, has been missing,” Maeve said. “The vampires are working on their own agendas. The gods are unhappy. Ragnarok is coming. Can’t you feel it, Atlantean? Do you really choose for your land to rise at a time so similar to the one that drove you beneath the waters?”

  Christophe took a deep breath. “I hear the truth in your words. I may even agree with you in some part. But I have sworn an oath, and I must honor it. The Siren must be returned to Atlantis.”

  “We of the Unseelie Court are not in opposition to your plans, Atlantean. We are fine allies to have, you will learn—or dangerous enemies. The Seelie Court will soon learn this, we hope, and our alliance will be completed. Now that Gideon is dead, that time may come sooner.”

  “That I believe.”

  Fiona shuddered. “I am so sorry, Maeve. I know your people are different, but to have to kill your own brother . . . I am so sorry.”

  Maeve’s eyes glistened with something as she regarded her friend. Christophe would almost have sworn they were unshed tears. But she didn’t respond.

  “Now what?” Christophe asked.

  “I will study you and your methods through your warrior representative Denal for some while. Then we shall meet and determine what to do next. Strategy is like breath to the Fae, and we are more well-versed in . . . breathing . . . than most.”

  Christophe bowed deeply. He could hear between her words to the truth beneath. Maeve would almost certainly be the next queen of the Unseelie Court. Now would be as good a time as any to begin an ambassadorial relationship.

  Fiona took a few steps toward her old friend. “I don’t even know what to call you anymore, Your Highness.”

  Maeve’s face lit up. “Call me your friend. That’s all I have ever asked.”

  “I’m your friend, too. Always,” Fiona promised.

  “And possibly a distant cousin,” Christophe murmured. “Seelie Court Fae. I wonder what Rhys na Garanwyn will have to say about that.”

  “If he says anything unpleasant, please leave him to me,” Maeve said, her smile turning to something glittering and fearful.

  “I will clear the Scarlet Ninja’s name,” Maeve continued. “Perhaps even make an extra donation to a few of your causes. Before the week is done, all shall know that the Scarlet Ninja saved England from a war.”

  “Thank you, but I could only do that with a lot of help from Atlantis and from a Fae princess who used to borrow my lipstick,” Fiona said, smiling, but then she turned solemn. “The shifters he enthralled?”

  “Already released. Please extend my apologies to the families of the ones he killed. We will extend monetary reparation, for what little that does to help. Lucinda, the alpha you rescued with your sacrifice, will heal.”

  “How do you know—”

  “I have my ways.” Maeve said. “How do you think I always knew where to find the hot guys in school?”

  “The hot guys found you,” Fiona said, smiling a little. “Thank you for what you said about the shifters. I’ll tell Lucinda.”

  Maeve laughed. “Never thank a Fae, or you will become beholden. You can send me more Chanel for a solstice gift to pay this small debt.”

  With that, Maeve led them to the way out of the Summer Lands. In a short time, Fiona, Christophe, and Declan were standing on the steps outside of Fairsby Manor, dazed, as Hopkins and the Atlanteans rushed toward them. The sun shone brightly overhead. Christophe gave Justice his sword and the two exchanged nods.

  “What in the name of all the gods happened to you?” Bastien demanded. “You were in there for more than two weeks.”

  Declan blushed a fiery red. “Um—”

  The Atlanteans stared at him, fascinated.

  “Nymphs,” Christophe said dryly.

  “Ohhhh. Nymphs,” Brennan said. “So will we be going back in around nine months from now on another rescue mission?”

  “What?” Fiona rounded on her brother, but then her cheeks flamed red as she realized. “Oh. Ohhhhh.”

  Declan hung his head, his cheeks as hot as his sister’s. “Trust me, sis. You don’t want to know the details.”

  Justice bowed to Fiona. “My sword, my lady? Did it help?”

  “Yes, Just holding it made me braver.”

  “I doubt that’s even possible,” Christophe said.

  “Can we go home now?” Declan asked. “I really need to go home now.”

  “How about we go home now?” Christophe opened a portal, and this time it flared to brilliant life as soon as he called. Interesting, that.

  “And never say the word nymph again?” Declan pleaded.

  Christophe always claimed, later, that it was one of the others who started laughing first.

  Chapter 40

  Campbell Manor

  When all the tales had been told, the experiences recounted, and the promises made to Declan that he would never, ever, tell anybody else, especially Hopkins or Fiona, the exact details about finding Declan with the nymphs, Christophe knew it was time to go. His friends had gone through a portal hours earlier, but he had been content to sit, holding Fiona as dusk’s shadows claimed the corners of the room.

  “I need to return to Atlantis and report in,” he finally said, unable to put it off any longer. He opened his hand and they both looked at the Siren, so innocent and quiet in his hand. “This must be restored to the Trident immediately.”

  “You didn’t give it to the others to return,” Fiona said softly. “Why?”

  “It’s something I need to do. This mission, from beginning to end. Does that make any sense?”

  She kissed him, hard. “It makes a great deal of sense. So call the portal and get it over with, and then come back to me.”

  “I’ve never made love to you in your office,” he said, putting the Siren on her desk and filling his hands with her breasts, which were infinitely more pleasant to hold.

  “Oh, that is a terrible oversight,” she agreed. She wiggled out of his arms and crossed to the door, locked it, and then turned around to face him.

  “What exactly are you going to do about it?”

  He leapt across the space separating them and
pinned her to the door with his body. “I believe there was a debt owed,” he said solemnly.

  “A debt?”

  “A spanking.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Oh, no, you’re not going to spank me.”

  He nodded, trying to keep a straight face. “Oh, yes. Naked.”

  She tried to answer, but her mouth got tangled up trying to tell him all the ways he was not going to spank her. He finally gave in and started laughing and she glared at him.

  “Oh, you’re going to pay for that, partner,” she threatened him.

  “Gladly.” He bent his head and kissed her as if his very life depended on taking her mouth right that moment. Perhaps it did. All he knew was he had to have her. Now.

  “On your desk?” he suggested, his voice raspy with desire and a primal need. “On the sofa?”

  “How about in the air? On swirling water?” She flashed a wicked smile. “I’m always up for something different.”

  He started laughing, and then he called to water. “Yes, my naughty love. Let’s play.”

  In seconds, she was naked, her body gleaming in the sunlight pouring through the windows. It was a matter of a thought for him to dispense with his own clothes, and then he lifted her into the air and sent ribbons of water playing around her luscious body. She gasped at the chill and then cried out when he concentrated harder and directed tiny fingers of cool water to toy with every inch of her skin.

  “That’s not fair,” she said, gasping.

  “Neither is this,” he said, and he let go of her—with his hands. The ribbons of water held her, trapped, in the air, with her arms and legs spread out at her sides. He stepped in closer to her body and licked droplets of water from each tight nipple and then licked his way down her body. Just when he reached the pale blond curls between her thighs, he stopped and straightened before walking around behind her.