Oceanborne (2 page)
Elena fought the rudder with all her strength, certain that the Zodiac would be dashed against the rocks. She could hear the roar of the surf ahead, but the channel that opened between the jagged stone outcrops seemed impossibly narrow. “Hold on tight!”
If they survived the rocks, she would have to ride the tops of the waves and slide onto the sand, and she'd have to keep the Zodiac at exactly the right angle or an incoming wave would catch it wrong and the inflatable would pitch pole.
“Now!” he shouted. “Go for it!”
She gunned the throttle, but just when she thought they had a chance a wave bigger than the others crashed over the stern of the Zodiac, filling the raft with six inches of water and temporarily blinding her. The motor sputtered. She choked and spat out a mouthful of water. “Come on! Come on!” she screamed, willing the engine to catch and fire. But her plea was in vain. The motor died, and the next thing Elena knew, the Zodiac went end over end and she was flying through the air.
Icy green water closed over her head. She kicked hard and tried to swim, but the force of the tide was too great. She found herself tossed like a bit of driftwood, slamming against rock and suddenly unable to tell which way was the surface. She held her breath until her lungs burned and dark spots swirled in front of her eyes. Panic seized her as she thought,
This is what it feels like to drown.
This is what it feels like to drown.
The thunder of the surf muted as the cold sea poured into her mouth and nostrils, and her world went from blue-green to a chaos of black and gray. Time slowed and stretched, colors grew more vivid, and she no longer struggled to breathe. She sighed, relaxing her body, surrendering to the pull of the tide, letting go until a white specter loomed out of the deep. Terror greater than her fear of death surged through her as the ghostly creature stared at her with glittering red eyes and bared teeth.
Pain lanced up Elena's thigh, and she kicked out at another shadow. With a burst of will, she twisted and tried to swim, frantic to escape this new nightmare. But she'd used up the last of her strength, and instead of moving farther away from this new menace, she hung suspended in the cold water, mouth wide in a silent scream, as the nightmare advanced ever closer.
CHAPTER 2
T
he arrival of the female in the Zodiac had saved Orion's skin, and he knew it all too well. Atlanteans, out of the sea, slowly grew weak and lethargic. Daysâand in some cases mere hoursâon land would mean certain death. But for Melqart's shades, only a single ray of sunshine would turn them into an oily column of black smoke. Simply, the creatures boiled alive in seconds. As stupid as they were, the horde had a strong sense of self-preservation, and knew better than to follow him out of the water.
he arrival of the female in the Zodiac had saved Orion's skin, and he knew it all too well. Atlanteans, out of the sea, slowly grew weak and lethargic. Daysâand in some cases mere hoursâon land would mean certain death. But for Melqart's shades, only a single ray of sunshine would turn them into an oily column of black smoke. Simply, the creatures boiled alive in seconds. As stupid as they were, the horde had a strong sense of self-preservation, and knew better than to follow him out of the water.
Had he merely surfaced, the shades would have swam up under him and pulled him down, devouring him in the process. The pack had cut him off from the beach, and the nearest outcrop of rock had been too far for him to reach. He'd been into the second chorus of his death chant when he'd heard the sound of a boat motor and had retreated to the nearest boltholeâin this case, a human's watercraft.
He hadn't expected the Zodiac to be manned by a female, a beautiful one at that. But man or woman, old or young, attractive or hideous, he was getting in that boat. The trick was in evading the shades in one piece and casting an illusion once he broke water. It wouldn't do for a human to see him as he really was, wouldn't do at all. And since she hadn't run him down or leaped screaming into the sea, he supposed he'd done a fair job of disguising his appearance to appear human.
What he hadn't counted on was the wave that had drowned the engine or the following one that had sent them sailing back into the drink where the horde was waiting. He landed only a few yards from the beach. It would have been child's play to reach solid land and relative safety ahead of the shades if it hadn't been for the woman.
Humans were the enemy, but this one had risked her life to save him. Had she known what he was, it might have been another story, but he couldn't shrug off the debt he owed her. Since he'd been a small child, a code of honor had been drummed into him. He couldn't let her die.
So, reluctantly, Orion turned his back on the shore and threw himself into the fray once more. Cut and thrust. Slice and hack. Single handed. Not only did he have to cut a path through the shades, he had to do it while retrieving the woman from her would-be executioners and using his powers to keep her from drowning.
The art of giving a human the ability to survive underwater was another arrow in an Atlantean's quiver, one that he was somewhat rusty at. Not magic, exactly, but close enough to amaze the masses. He couldn't wait to brag to Alexandros about this heroic interlude. This tale would make a more exciting song than one where he died in the end. Plus, he'd be there to revel in the glory.
Neither of them reached the beach unscathed. He'd been bitten and clawed in a dozen places. Blood ran from a great gash down his thigh to pool on the sand under his feet, and one of the beasts had taken a chunk out of his left bicep. The woman hung limp and lifeless in his arms. Her eyes were open, the irises rolled up so that the whites showed. Her skin was the color of bleached oyster shell except for the place where a shade had sunk his teeth into her thigh. Blood soaked the leg of her torn jeans and drops of blood dripped onto the sand.
His own wounds were insignificant. They would heal of their own accord, slower than if he were underwater, of course, but fast enough. The woman might not fare as well. She was cold, her breathing so shallow as to be barely perceptible. The rain was still beating down on them, and the wind had teeth. Overhead, thunder rumbled ominously. He decided to carry her into the cave that opened only a short distance above the small stretch of sand.
The cavern mouth was small, a place that might be easily overlooked, but he had noted it when he'd been on the island before. Centuries before, humans had taken shelter here, but they were long gone, their bones turned to dust. The floor was covered with fine gold-colored sand, and the air smelled of salt and sea.
He lay the woman face down, pressed gently but firmly on her back, and watched as what seemed like a beaker of water gushed out of her mouth and nose. Immediately, she began to cough and choke. He gave one more good compression, then turned her over, leaned down, and kissed her mouth.
Her eyelids fluttered, and Orion found himself staring into two hauntingly beautiful dark orbs. A shudder ran through her and she gave a small moan.
He kissed her again, surprised at how warm her lips were and how perfectly they molded to his. Excitement shot through him, and he flushed. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was simply repaying a debt, her life for his. It wasn't personal. She was human, for Zeus' sake. Humans, especially the females, were weak, pitiful things, possessing the sexual lure of a dead mollusk.
But not this one. This woman exuded sensuality with the allure of a mermaid. He had the feeling that he'd moved into a realm where nothing was as he'd expected. He was used to being in control where females were concerned. This wasn't the way things were supposed to be, and he didn't like it one bit.
She choked again, bringing up more water. He pulled her into his arms and held her while she brought up the contents of her stomach, taking care to hold her long, brown hair away from her face. She groaned, sagging against him. He laid her back against the rocks, found a handful of seaweed, and used it to wipe her mouth. A second fistful made a poultice to staunch the ragged cut on her thigh. He pressed his fingers against the bite, closed his eyes, and willed the wound to heal. Again, since he was out of the sea, he didn't have his usual power, but it was sufficient to close the punctures and restore the damaged surrounding tissue.
Her color was beginning to return.
He took a deep breath and conjured the illusion that he was human and decent according to human standards. It was hard to use imagination where air breathers' fashion was concerned, and he was short on time. He covered his loins in the likeness of a pair of stretchy, red swim trunks he'd seen a French tourist wearing on a local beach. The garment was ridiculous, not in his opinion nearly as modest as being naked would have been. The woman's lashes fluttered, and she stirred, commanding Orion's full attention.
He couldn't tear his gaze away from her. He knew this was completely illogical. By Jason's fleece, she had no gills or scales and her slender feet were completely without webbing!
Yet, he found her fascinating ⦠intriguing.
Her complexion was a dusky olive, her forehead high, her brows dark and arching. Her face was a perfect oval, her nose straight, chin dimpled, and her mouth was made for kissing. He'd never been good with guessing ages when it came to humans, but he supposed she was thirty, at least, a mere child. But those eyes ⦠He wondered if she was a sorceress, some sort of earthy naiad or witchling. Those eyes seemed mysterious, as if they were black bottomless pools containing all the secrets of the world.
She blinked and the corners of her mouth turned up in a faint smile. “What happened?” she whispered.
Orion's throat constricted. This was wrong. All wrong. He shouldn't be here. She shouldn't be here. But he had no more power to walk away and leave her than he had to fly.
“Am I dead?” she asked.
He wondered what she'd seen after the boat had catapulted, throwing them into the sea, and he touched her gently on the forehead, willing her to forget everything that happened after they'd made a run for the beach.
“I hope not.” He chuckled, more in an attempt to normalize his feelings than because he was amused. “Because if you are, I must be, too.”
She tried to sit up, groaned, and fell back. “The Zodiac?”
“Flipped.”
She swallowed. “It's expensive,” she rasped. “If I lose the inflatable, it will come out of my stipend.”
“Tough break.”
“That bad?”
He shrugged. “I've seen worse. On the bottom. The motor might be salvageable, but I doubt it. Those rocks gave it a pretty good scrubbing.” Not to mention the shades. He'd seen three of them tearing at it with tooth and claw. He supposed they thought it might be alive. No one had ever accused Melqart's horde of being smart.
She swore. In Greek. Her accent was quite good. And the curse imaginative.
“It could be worse,” he reminded her. “We could be shark chum.” He brushed a long lock of damp hair off her oval face, and simply touching her sent a rush of excitement through him. “You came close to drowning.” He'd tried to speak naturally, but his voice grew husky with emotion.
“And I suppose I have you to thank for saving my life?”
He couldn't suppress a grin. “You could say that.” His gaze traveled from her classically beautiful face down over her slim body. She was wearing the remains of a black T-shirt bearing the likeness of the temple of Apollo, and faded jeans. The top barely covered her small but nicely shaped breasts. Her waist was small, her hips wide enough to be womanly. Human or not, witchling or not, she was a package. And he wanted to possess her.
Sex with humans was strictly forbidden by Atlantean law. Not that the law prevented the occasional familiarity with the enemy. It did happen. Sadly, being forbidden added spice to the act. But it had been a long time since he'd risked arrest and severe punishment for sport with an air breather. Centuries. And she hadn't been nearly as attractive.
He knew what Alex would say. Have her and be done with it. Get her out of your system. Orion was breathing hard now, fighting his own nature to keep from taking advantage of her. She was so vulnerable, lying here, half naked, grateful to him for coming to her rescue. Seducing her would be as easy as gathering seaweed at low tide.
Atlanteans males were endowed with super-sexual needs that required regular physical gratificationâ¦. Fortunately, Atlantean females were equally sensual beings. Adults took their pleasure where they found it without remorse or guilt. Only a few, notably the royal family and some noble lines, were monogamous. His parents had been when his mother was alive, although his father, Poseidon, had acquired many wives and even more concubines since her death. Since his older brother Morgan would inherit the throne, there was little need for Orion to consider marriage to one woman. His conquests had been many, and he prided himself on providing equal satisfaction to his partners.
Bedding this woman seemed a sensible solution to what was fast becoming a painful problem. He could disguise himself as a human by throwing a net of illusion over her, but it was difficult to hide his interest, even with the inferior sexual anatomy of one of her kind.
She pushed herself up to a sitting position, rubbed the place where she'd been bitten, and looked down at her bloodstained jeans. “I must have scraped myself against the rocks, but I don't see whereâ”
“Probably my blood,” he lied. Fabrication was easier than explaining how he'd healed her so quickly. “You were lucky.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Nothing more than a skinned knee.”
“We were both lucky.” She began to squeeze the seawater out of her long brown hair. “Of course, if I'm to be grateful to you, you owe me the same. You were drowning when I snatched you out of the waves.”
“Me? Drowning? I was not.” About to be devoured alive, maybe, but to suggest that an Atlantean male could drown in the ocean was an insult. His pride prickled. “I was just out for a swim.”
She laughed. Her laughter was as enticing as the expression in her eyes. And her mouth ⦠He wanted to taste those lips again.
She extended a slender hand. “Elena Carter.”
He took it. “Orion.” She had a firm grip for a woman, and he found himself reluctant to release her. Instead, he lightly caressed the fleshy mound of her palm with his thumb, reveling in the frisson of excitement it gave him.
He felt his loins tighten, and it took all his will power to keep his abundant attributes from rising to the occasion. He didn't want to frighten her away. Slow and easy, that was best in dealing with human females. They didn't possess the sexual appetite of Atlantean women or the staying power to continue a mutually-satisfying session for hours ⦠or, in some cases, days.
“No last name?”
His eyes widened. She had him there. He didn't have a last name. He was Orion, son of Poseidon, prince of Atlantis. What did he need with a second name? Everyone who mattered knew who he was.
“Is it a secret?” She parted the torn material of her jeans, obviously searching for an injury, but her flesh had healed perfectly.
“No.” He chuckled. “Xenos. Orion Xenos.”
“
Stranger.
”
Stranger.
”
“Excuse me?”
“The meaning of Xenos is
stranger
, isn't it?”
stranger
, isn't it?”
“I suppose it is. I never really thought about it.”
“It fits,” she said thoughtfully. “Strange that you'd be out in that water, that I'd rescue you, and we'd both end up ⦠What? Shipwrecked? I don't suppose there's a telephone on this island. Or a taverna?” She wiped her mouth. “My friends will suspect the worst when I don't come back.”
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