Oceanborne (20 page)

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Authors: Katherine Irons

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

BOOK: Oceanborne
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But not knowing how many turns of the water clock had passed was difficult. She could not sit or lie down; there wasn't room in the enclosed space. She could only stand and sometimes rest her head against the rough stone wall at her back. The paralysis had worn off, but she remained weak and disoriented.
Surely, her family and friends had missed her. Were they searching the palace for her? Did they believe that she'd gone away without telling anyone? But she had when she and Leda had gone to help Orion. Her brother would think she was safe at home. Would Alexandros and the others think she was still with Orion? It was a question that troubled her, and she didn't like to dwell on it.
Often she thought of Freyja, her dolphin. She had been so sweet, so faithful, so brave. How many times had she and Freyja faced danger together, and how many times had she ridden to the far reaches of strange waters on her friend's back? Morwena's heart ached for the dolphin.
Freyja hadn't lived out her lifespan. She was young, only thirty-five, and most of her kind lived to seventy and longer. Morwena had raised other dolphins before Freyja, and she knew that they were mortal creatures. Yet, Atlanteans had continued to give their love freely and share their lives with dolphins for tens of thousands of years, knowing that the bonds of affection would be broken over and over by death.
Morwena could almost hear Freyja's excited clicks, see in her mind's eye the beautiful head and intelligent gaze of her friend. Morwena couldn't believe that Freyja was really dead. It would be like Halimeda to tell her that the dolphin had been murdered just to bring her pain, but if Freyja was alive, she would have found her by now. Dolphins had amazing psychic abilities, abilities that went far beyond those of Atlanteans. And Freyja's absence made Morwena's hope for the dolphin's survival fade. “If they've hurt you, I'll make them pay,” Morwena swore. “I will. I promise you, Freyja. They will pay in full measure.”
At first, when she heard the muted sound of mortar being chipped away, Morwena thought she was dreaming. She had dreamed of rescue again and again. Now, as the sounds echoed through her prison, she gritted her teeth, and tried not to listen.
“Morwena? Are you alive?”
She shuddered. She knew the voice—her half-brother Caddoc.
“Speak to me, my sweet.”
Another stone fell, and light filtered into her tomb. She steeled herself. Whatever had possessed Caddoc to break down the wall, it couldn't be good. Either he was acting on his mother's orders, or … Or, what? Why would he dare Halimeda's displeasure? Was it possible that he had some scrap of honor left? That he couldn't be a willing participant in her murder?
“My mother has plans for you, Morwena.”
She clenched her hands. If the opportunity came for escape, she must not miss it. But, she was weak, so weak. She could swim. If she couldn't stand, she could swim. But could she swim fast enough to evade Caddoc? Had he come to release her from this cell only to drag her to another ?
A larger block tumbled away. Caddoc grinned at her, and the last faint hope that he might have come to help her dried up. She knew that smile from his childhood. She had seen it before he'd pulled the legs off a living octopus or yanked a baby sea horse from a smaller boy's hand.
Caddoc was like his mother in that he enjoyed seeing others in pain. People or sea creatures, it didn't matter. Only dolphins were safe from his mischief. All his life, Caddoc had feared dolphins. Morwena believed it was because they could see past his handsome face and smooth lies to the evil within.
Another stone came loose. Her brother reached in and grabbed her arm. He dragged her free of the stone cavity, and held her up to stare into her face. “Rested, are you, sister? Was it peaceful enough for you in there?”
Without the support of the stone wall, her legs didn't have the strength to hold her upright. She sagged forward and would have fallen, but he caught her again. “Are you grateful, Morwena? How grateful?” He leered at her, grabbed her breast and squeezed it crudely.
She screamed, and when he tried to clamp a hand over her mouth, she bit him until blood ran. He slammed her back against the stones. Pain shot through her head, and the room spun. Her knees buckled. He yanked her hard against him, his fingers digging into her flesh, and slipped hard fingers between her legs.
Morwena groaned. He was strong, so strong. She would have to use all her wits to best him. “No need to be so rough,” she said. “Why didn't you tell me you wanted to play?”
He lowered his head and ground his mouth against hers. She swallowed her bile, stretched and strained until her hand closed on the dagger at his belt.
“What—” he shouted.
She was too quick for him. She slipped the knife from his sheath and jabbed up, driving the blade into his midsection. “Take that, you bastard!” She spat the taste of him away and twisted the knife in his side.
Shrieking, Caddoc knocked the weapon from her hand and clutched at his wound. “You stabbed me!” He stared down in disbelief as blood seeped through his fingers.
Morwena turned toward the door and saw that it stood open. She dodged around Caddoc's flailing arms and swam for the portal—straight into the Samoan's arms. Struggling against him, she screamed again, and her cry echoed down the long corridor.
“Shut her up!” Caddoc called.
Tora laughed and threw her at Caddoc. She continued to scream until her brother wrapped both hands around her throat and squeezed. Terrified, Morwena struck at his face and head with her fists. He tightened his choke hold. Black spots danced before her eyes. She gasped for breath and slammed a knee into his groin.
From far off, Morwena heard the garbled sounds of Tora's laughter. Gagging, Caddoc forced her to her knees. Her lungs burned, and her struggle weakened. He bent her back, squeezing, squeezing.
Morwena's head lolled back, and her eyes rolled up in her head. Caddoc cursed and flung her against the wall. Her head struck a protruding section of stone with a dull thud, and she slid limply down to float above the paving stones.
“Get her up!” Caddoc whined. “We've got to seal her back in the wall before my mother …”
Tora reached for Morwena's body, dropped to his knees and gathered her in his arms. Her head fell back at an unnatural angle. A trail of dark blood clouded the water. The Samoan raised his gaze to meet Caddoc's and grimaced.
“What's wrong?” Caddoc asked.
Tora shook his head and released Morwena's corpse.
“She's dead? She can't be dead!” Caddoc stared down at her lifeless form.
Tora shrugged, and turned for the door.
“You can't leave me with her!” Caddoc cried. “What will I tell my mother?”
The big Samoan kept going and didn't look back.
CHAPTER 19
G
reg Hamilton was beginning to think that he was more like his father than he'd ever wanted to imagine. How could he have been so stupid as to buy Elena a diamond ring without having her agree to marry him first? And when she tried to give the ring back, why hadn't he taken it?
Walking away from her might be a cavalier thing to do, but it wasn't smart. The diamond had set him back more than twenty-five thousand dollars, and buying it had been impulsive. There'd be no denying it. He'd put the damned thing on the company credit card—a card that his father, the company president, had already threatened to cancel.
What if Elena wouldn't marry him? What if she sold the ring and used the money for this latest stupid project? Never mind that he'd told her to do just that. It was big talk, something to say when she'd shocked him by refusing to commit to his proposal of marriage. And now, here he was on Crete with a night at leisure, and no woman to share it.
He'd told Elena that he had to be on the ship in the morning, but that wasn't exactly the truth. The Greek government was giving them a load of shit about the area they wanted to investigate—so much so that the ship was still anchored in some harbor he couldn't pronounce the name of. Typical red tape of dealing with a third world country. Someone claimed that the company didn't have the proper clearance for the drilling. Probably they'd bribed the wrong official, or hadn't offered him enough. At least his father couldn't blame that on him. That was shit for the company lawyers to sort out.
But here he was with money in his pocket, a hard-on, and a powerful need to get extremely drunk. Who the hell did he know in Crete? Or in Greece for that matter? At home, there were a dozen women he could have called, and the phone book was full of pros. As his father liked to say, pros were safe, at least the high-class ones. They didn't smell, they didn't tell, and they could fuck like hell. In Texas, he'd have had no trouble ordering just what he wanted. But on Crete?
Cheap whores could be found in any taverna, but he'd always been fastidious. He wanted clean and he wanted a woman with whom he could walk into a casino with her on his arm and have heads turn and other men wishing they were Greg Hamilton. Plus, he had to admit, he liked the idea of paying for prime snatch. It was an honest trade. They would do anything he asked, barring sadism, which he'd never been into, and once he walked out the door, she was history.
He supposed he could blame the habit on his father. He'd bought him his first whorehouse experience when he'd turned sixteen. They'd flown west for a little fatherson bonding…. First elk hunting in Wyoming, which had been a bust. They'd frozen their asses off without seeing an elk worth shooting, had camped in the snow, and drank the worst excuse for coffee he'd ever tasted. The food had been bad, and the whiskey cheap. Luckily, the second part of the trip, the poontang at the Muskrat Ranch in Nevada, had been better. When his father explained that this was his son's first time, the madam had fixed him up with a hot Asian number named Mercedes. Four hours with her had been worth riding over half of Wyoming on a cow-gaited mustang.
He wondered where little Mercedes was now. Tight as his father's accountant, that woman. He thought about going back to Elena's house and trying to talk his way in for the night. Maybe, if he gave her some story about the hotels being full, she'd take pity on him. Once he was in her bedroom, he doubted she would hold out long. A few drinks, a little sweet talk, and he'd be home free.
Greg pulled out his cell and started to punch in Elena's number, but then he hit the power button. Damned if he'd run back to her begging like a dog with his tail between his legs. To hell with Elena Carter. And he'd have the ring back, too. If nothing else, he'd have one of the firm's lawyers write a letter demanding she return it.
He walked a little farther along the street. Eighties' disco music poured from a small club on the corner. His mouth was dry. He wanted to go in, have a few drinks, be with people that appreciated him, but they were all strangers. Foreigners. Probably all Greeks with a scattering of German and Japanese tourists. For all he knew, it might be Bee Gee's night.
And then he remembered someone he did know—someone who was on this godforsaken island. Michelle. Her number was already in his cell. As an employee of the company, she was expected to be on duty 24-7.
She picked up on the second ring.
“Michelle?”
“Oh, hi, Greg.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just getting in the shower. I was at the beach all afternoon, and I'm all sun lotion and salt.”
“Where are you?”
She named a hotel. Nothing but the best for his father's people, all expenses paid, of course.
“What room number?”
She laughed and answered in a sultry Texas drawl that made him homesick. “Why? Want to join me?”
“I like my water hot.”
“So do I, Greg. I like everything hot.”
“Order a couple of steaks from room service, and a bottle of decent Scotch.”
“Macallan 25? Right?”
“You know what I like.”
She laughed again. “I think I do. I think I know exactly what you like.”
 
Athena rose and smiled as Prince Morgan came into the bedroom where his wife and daughter lay in a deep sleep. “The bleeding has stopped,” she announced. “And Rhiannon's color is much better.”
“Does that mean she won't lose the baby?” Morgan approached the bed.
Athena shook her head. “It's too soon to tell, but it's certainly promising. She seems to be sleeping peacefully, not thrashing around as she was. Did you find the intruders ?”
“No, nothing.” Morgan brushed the hair away from Rhiannon's face, leaned down and kissed the crown of her head. “No more incidents?”
“None, but both she and Danu seem exhausted.”
“I'm still not sure it's right to leave Danu here beside her. What if Rhiannon wakes suddenly and is out of her head again? She could harm Danu seriously.” Morgan rested his hand on his sword hilt. “I've informed Poseidon of what's happened. He was furious. You know how he dotes on Danu. The king has put all palace guards on alert. Troops are searching the city.”
“Yes, but for whom?” his mother-in-law asked. “How would the guards know if they came upon the guilty culprits ? It was no shade who came here and bewitched the princess.” It had been on the tip of Athena's tongue to say
my daughter
, but they were not alone. Other healers had come to share in Rhiannon's care, and their relationship wasn't commonly known.
Rhiannon, once known as Claire when she lived a human life, had been born to her as the result of a torrid love affair with Rhiannon's human father. That romance was long over, Richard dead and in his grave, but if it became common knowledge, she, Athena, would have to answer for breaking the law. For many years, she had waited and wondered about her daughter, hoping that someday, she would return to the sea. Now, she had. Rhiannon was a mother herself and wife to the crown prince of Atlantis. No need to remind the king or the people of her human origin. She was an Atlantean now, and Athena was part of her daughter's life and that of her family.
As much as Athena loved little Danu, she longed to be present when this new grandchild was born. She wanted to deliver Rhiannon's baby and to watch the new soul take its first strokes. That someone would try to murder the babe in the womb filled her with anger. She would find out who wished Rhiannon and Morgan's son ill and she would have her revenge. This child, if it lived, would be a boy and direct heir to the throne of the kingdom. And whoever had dared to threaten the dynasty would live to regret their evil.
“I believe it's safe to move the princess to the temple now,” Athena said.
“Why shouldn't she remain here with me?” Morgan asked.
“In the temple, Rhiannon will be under the protection of hundreds of minds. No evil will touch her there. Besides, you lead your troops into battle. You won't be here to watch over her.”
“And Danu? Who will protect her? I can't leave her in these quarters with only the servants to watch over her.” He began to pace back and forth. “I don't want to leave them. I'm not afraid to die, but if I do …”
“If you should fall in battle, your wife and children will be honored and cared for. You know what the princess means to me, and what your small daughter means. As for the unborn child, we can only hope for his survival. But he comes of strong parents. It may well be that whatever evil attempted to destroy him, he will overcome it.”
“He?” Hope flickered in Morgan's eyes. “It's a son? I have a son?”
“The Creator willing, you will have a son, perhaps many sons.”
“If Rhiannon can be healed.”
“If Danu can heal her,” Athena said softly. “Her gift of healing is the most pure I've ever witnessed in a child. If her desires follow her ability, she belongs in the temple. She will be a great asset to the kingdom.”
“Only if it is her wish,” Morgan answered. “She is as precious to me as if I fathered her.”
“You, of all people should know that a father is more than the sperm donor. A true father is one who loves and nourishes the child.”
Morgan nodded. “I'd not force her into any path she doesn't want. It's not easy to become a priestess.”
“Yet your sister Morwena seeks it.”
He nodded. “No one could force Morwena into anything she didn't want. That one has a strong will.”
Athena smiled. “And you don't? I believe Poseidon is fortunate to have such sons and daughters.” She glanced at the sleeping Danu. “And such grandchildren. Go and do what you must, Prince Morgan. They will be waiting for you when you return.”
“All three? Rhiannon and my son and daughter?”
“I'll use all my skill and wisdom to make it so.” She shook her head. “I don't do magic. Well you know it. I but follow the old ways and try to teach the young ones the same.”
“You're right. My brothers and father will be waiting. And my generals. Kiss Danu for me, and tell her … tell her that I love her and that she's to be a good girl and take care of her mother.”
He started for the door, then paused, and looked back. “You've not seen Morwena, have you? She'll have my head if I go off to war without bidding her good-bye.”
Athena shook her head. “No, I haven't, but I'm sure that Morwena will come to the inner chambers when she hears that Rhiannon is ill. I'll tell her that you asked for her.”
“I hope Morwena hasn't done anything foolish. I wouldn't be surprised to find her among the assembled troops, bow and quiver in hand, ready to do battle with Melqart's shades.”
 
Caddoc carried Morwena's body, wrapped in his cloak, through a shadowy and rarely used passageway in the bowels of the palace until he came to a waste shaft. He laid the bundle on the floor, unwrapped it, and stripped her of the remains of the clothes she'd been wearing. Then, he dropped the naked corpse into the rushing channel that carried the contents of toilets and kitchen matter into the garbage area some distance from the city wall. Sharks and other scavengers gathered there. With luck, his little sister would vanish, hair, skin, and bone, and no one would ever know what had happened to her.
A pity, really, that she'd died so easily. He would have liked to have made some use of her before his mother offered her to Melqart as a sacrifice. What difference did it matter to Melqart if Morwena was virgin or not? It wasn't as if there'd have been an inspection of the merchandise. Caddoc had seen offerings executed before. Usually, it was a shoddy affair, carried out in a hurry so that the priests who served the dark lord could be about their own business.
Caddoc slid the flat stone back in place and examined his cloak for telltale blood. It was a good cloak, fashioned of expensive material. He would have hated to dispose of it, but it seemed fine. Now, he'd have to busy himself elsewhere until his mother got over her pique at finding her little princess gone. If he wasn't here, he wouldn't have questions to answer, and he couldn't be blamed. The fault wasn't his, anyway. Tora should have held on to her.
If Morwena hadn't attacked him viciously, he wouldn't have been so angry, and she might be still alive. But he would shed no tears over the haughty little bitch.
Good riddance,
he thought. Another of Poseidon's useless get out of his way. When he, Caddoc, was king, he'd have as many women as he wanted, all prettier and more willing than Morwena.
Just thinking about what he might have done to her excited him. He'd have to find a substitute soon. But first, he had to put distance between himself and Atlantis. Tora was always going on about how wonderful Samoa was. Maybe they should go there. The island girls were said to be easy, and who better to fulfill their dreams than an Atlantean prince?

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