"Atlantis Rising" - читать интересную книгу автора (Day Alyssa)

Chapter 4

Conlan swirled through the air faster than he'd ever moved, arrowing his focus to use the droplets of water in the sea air as a prism, until he could see the outline of her shape.

Score a point for Atlantean vision.

Shadows caught at the moonlight, obscuring her face. All he could see was a slender form, huddled on the beach. The impact of her grief magnified—trebled—when he saw her shoulders shudder.

She was definitely the source of the emotional grenade that had smashed into his defenses. No army. No vamp mind-control conspiracy.

One lone human female. And she was projecting emotion.

She was aknasha. Empath.

Stunned, disbelieving, he sent a tentative mind probe to her. Her mind clamped on to his probe, the energy of her thoughts rearing up, defensive. As if she sensed danger.

She thought he was a predator. He bared his teeth, nearly smiling. He'd been called worse.

He tried to shut down his mental shields, but she lashed out at him. Defense turned to offense—seeking to discern what the hell he was.

Get out of my mind! Defiance. Courage.

Pure, heated emotion.

And, buried way down deep: a tendril of fear.

His logic tried to make sense of the impossible. Not even Atlanteans could project emotion into the mind probe anymore. And yet she did. On a level so intense, so visceral, that his warrior senses nearly missed the threat to her.

There were three of them. They planned to hurt her. He swore viciously under his breath in the ancient tongue.

They were going to die.

He moved even faster.

Riley lifted her head, suddenly aware of a threat far greater than the three who stalked her. Something—someone—she almost felt him inside of her.

"Great. Either we've got vamps with new mind-control powers, or that damn sixth sense of mine picks now to go haywire," she muttered, even as she pushed herself up off the beach and started walking. Fast.

Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe they were just three guys out for a walk on the beach.

Yeah, and I'm Goldilocks.

"Hold up there, babe. We want to have a little talk with you," one of them called out in a thick voice. The others laughed, and the menace in their laughter sent a curl of fear shivering up Riley's spine.

The air around her thickened, seemed to swirl with a darker black, as if an opposing force gathered itself, threatened.

But it didn't threaten her.

The dark caressed her as it passed, then built into an ominous cloud behind her. She kept walking, faster, nearly jogging now, glancing back over her shoulder. The men had stopped, openmouthed.

"What the hell is that?" one of them said, rubbing his arms. His belly hung low over his belt and his greasy hair was combed over his balding scalp. An angry-looking red scar snaked up out of his collar to the side of his neck. He caught her looking at him and leered at her. "Yeah, you're anxious to get a piece of me, aren't you, chickie? Guess you're not as tough as the other one."

The men put their heads down, driving their way through the shadows of the barrier, and stumbled after her.

She shuddered. Started to run. The unseen threat in the air around her escalated.

Nothing human could do that. It was an intangible presence—but a very tangible threat.

Oh, no. Somebody please help me. It's a damn vampire. Or a shape-shifter. I never should have broken curfew.

The sand seemed to mock her, catching her ankles, making her stumble. She heard her pursuers thundering closer and closer.

She shoved the panic away. Remember what you tell your clients. It's rape—horrible, soul deadening, but you'll be alive. It's not murder. It's only temporary. Nothing matters but staying alive. You can survive this.

An inhumanly vicious roar sounded through her head—no, it wasn't just in her head. She heard it. She lurched to a stop, glancing behind at her pursuers.

The bastards behind her stopped, too. "What the hell was that, Red? You said none of those fucking werewolves hung out around here," one of them whined.

Riley shook her head, trapped. Bones turned to liquid. She forced herself to keep moving.

Better to risk being lunch for an unseen vampire than victim of a gang bang. Too early for shape-shifters.

"Guess rapists these days aren't up on lunar phases," she said, hysteria threatening to overwhelm her.

The roar came again, stopping her in her tracks. Terror whipped through her. Nothing human made that sound.

She was going to die.

She choked on a laugh. Maybe they'd put her in a drawer at the morgue next to Morris.

A voice—a silken melody of sound—rang inside of her head.

The undead will never have you, little aknasha. You are too valuable to us. We need to figure out just how you acquired this interesting talent.

The velvet caress of the voice caught at her mental defenses, trying to insinuate itself into her mind.

Fascinated in spite of the situation, she tried a mental push of her own. Who are you? How can you talk to me like that? No vampire or shape-shifter has that power, do they?

She frantically scanned the skies, afraid of an attack from above, then looked behind her at the thugs.

Great. I get trapped in some mind-control games and they catch me. Brilliant, Riley. Why not just give up and lie down now?

The voice sounded in her mind again, gentleness gone, implacable ice in its place. Do not worry about those fools behind you. I'm in the mood to deliver a little death.

"Death?" Even as a small, dark corner of Riley's soul stood up and cheered at the idea, her conscience wouldn't go for it.

She'd seen enough death for one night.

She'd seen enough death for one lifetime.

"No. Whoever you are, no killing. Please, just help me get away," she said out loud, realizing she was probably bargaining with a freaking bloodsucker.

Stand aside. Now. They're already dead. I don't like vermin who prey on helpless women. His melodic tones wrapped around her senses, raising her nerve endings to heightened alert, even as she bristled at his arrogant presumption.

You picked the wrong woman to order around, bud. And if you are some kind of preternatural badass, you picked the wrong woman to try to eat, too.

She whirled around in midstride, dropping into a defensive crouch, wondering how she could possibly defend herself against all four of them.

One of them with enough undead strength to pick up a house.

So fierce! Eat you? I'm no vamp, fierce one. But I must admit, for some reason the idea of… tasting you… isn't making me all that unhappy. And I haven't even seen your face yet. So who's using the mind control here?

His silent laughter insinuated itself into her mind, simmering with… sex. A wave of heat washed through her, over her, around her.

"I hope you're not waiting for an answer to that one," she muttered, feeling her face flame and glad for the darkness. "What kind of moron feels sexy when her life is in danger? Next I'll be putting on a slinky nightgown and going down in the basement with the serial-killing hockey players."

She backed away from all of them—mind-control boy's likely direction and the thugs. But one woman didn't have a chance against all four.

Riley watched, fists clenched so hard her nails bit into her palms, as the drunks moved to surround her. The sour reek of their unwashed bodies tripled the nausea she was already fighting, and she gagged as her stomach tried to rebel.

She'd never be able to defeat all three of them, and escape was impossible, now. Not only from them, but from the stranger whispering in her mind. But she could at least punch and kick the crap out of any body part that came in reach.

They wouldn't get her without a fight.

Be still. I'll deal with these criminals. And then, aknasha, we'll have a little chat about how you transmit emotions through the mind probe. Don't even think about trying to get away from me.

Riley fell back a step as the stocky, muscle-bound man in front of her reached forward as if to grab her breast. She could smell the fumes on his breath—beer and the sour tang of something stronger.

"Come on, baby, give us a little kiss." He puckered up and made a loud smooching sound, and the other thugs howled with laughter.

The nausea rose again in her throat at the idea of any of them touching her. She feinted back, then swung her foot with every ounce of rage inside of her right for the bastard's crotch.

And it connected, hard.

He howled, clutched at his groin, and dropped to the sand like a big, ugly rock. Riley stumbled back, and the thug behind her grabbed her shoulders, his dirty fingers digging into her skin through her light jacket. She hissed in pain, and an answering hiss of sheer male fury scorched through her brain. From behind her, someone roared his outrage to the skies.

Not someone—him.

The man holding her gasped and backed away from her.

She whipped her head from side to side, trying to keep an eye on all three of them at once.

At least the guy on the ground didn't seem to be going anywhere. He lay there, moaning and blubbering in a funny voice. Score one for her, at least.

And then she saw him. Black shadow coalesced into a tall figure running toward her so quickly it seemed as though his feet never touched the ground.

Power, raging and furious, swept over her. Her skin iced at the feel of it.

She was either saved, or she was utterly doomed.