Warriors of Poseidon 01.5 - Wild Hearts in Atlantis

believe Riley talked Conlan into turning this space into a games room. We've even got foosball. I love that woman."
     
    Justice finally spoke. "Everyone does." He walked over to a support column and leaned against it, the hilt of his ever-present sword rising above one shoulder. "You called it, naming her Lady Sunshine. She spreads light and happiness everywhere she goes," he said, sarcasm drenching his words. "Even a few of the Elders serving on the Council actually smiled at her when she stopped by to mention that they should—oh, no big deal—just maybe change the way everything in Atlantis has been done for millennia."
     
    Bastien had heard enough. "Cut it out, justice. Riley has the heart of a lion, and Poseidon himself named her as Prince Conlan's future wife and queen. Even now she carries Conlan's son. So the sooner we have the wedding, the better for all of us."
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    Justice narrowed his eyes. "The better for Conlan and Riley, at least. The rest of us? I'm not so sure."
     
    Ven sliced a hand through the air. "I don't want to hear any more of that shit from you, justice. As one of the Seven, Conlan trusts you to have his back. That includes battling political nightmares, not just bloodsuckers and shapeshifters."
     
    Justice bowed slightly and headed for the door, but Ven called him back. "Stay. It's actually fortuitous I caught you three together, because I need to talk to you all."
     
    "What is it, Ven?" Bastien asked, immediately coming to full alert. He was the most senior of the Seven, and always the most alive when serving his liege. The parts of his soul made for aught else than battle were long-since shriveled and dead inside him. He never minded kicking a little vamp or shapeshifter ass, either.
     
    "We've decided to begin forming our own alliances to try to catch up with the ten-year head start the vamps have on us. Barrabas had his nasty claws in every political intrigue in the country, in his role as Senator Barnes."
     
    Bastien barked out a laugh. "Yeah, and didn't it warm your heart to see how that bloodsucker bought it?"
     
    The four warriors all shuddered simultaneously. Evil three-thousand-year-old vampire or not, there was something about watching a guy get his nuts ripped off that sent a cold chill snaking up your 'nads. When Anubisa had yanked Barrabas's undead heart from his body, it'd almost been a relief.
     
    Ven recovered first. "Yeah. Well, here's the deal. Conlan wants to name an official Atlantean liaison to the shapeshifters."
     
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    "Makes sense. The furballs are big on protocol and hierarchy. The alphas of the various prides, streaks, packs, and all the other groups are way less likely to go prickly if they're dealing with somebody they perceive as having status," Bastien said, nodding. "Justice is the perfect choice. Hell, with all that blue hair, he looks half animal himself."
     
    Ven shot Bastien a look. "It's not justice, big guy. Conlan wants you to do it."
     
    Bastien's jaw dropped open, then he caught himself and grinned, catching on. "Right.
    Very funny. Make the all-brawn, no-brains of the organization take on a political role.
    Sure. Hey, you almost had me, Ven. You're good."
     
    But Ven wasn't smiling. "You're the only one in Atlantis who thinks your value is merely in your physical strength, Bastien. Seems to me Poseidon isn't gonna let you get away with that much longer, but that's between you and the sea god."
     
    Before Bastien could think of a reply, a cold wind swept through the warm, sunny space, then shimmered into shape. Speak of the devil.
     
    Devil—Poseidon's high priest—nigh on the same difference.
     
    Alaric invoked the fear of the sea god in anybody who dared cross his path. Not many did.
     
    Alaric's eerie green eyes glowed with power and then narrowed, as if he were thought-mining Bastien's musings. But nobody these days had the ancient Atlantean power to sift the thoughts of another not soul-melded to him. Or so Bastien hoped.
     
    Alaric finally spoke, fiery gaze boring into Ven. "What the sea god wills is beyond your limited knowledge of such affairs. Perhaps you should perform your duty as the King's Vengeance and leave the responsibilities of Poseidon's Temple to me."
     
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    Ven inclined his head. "As you say. I'm here to give Bastien