The Erotic Expeditions - Complete Collection (52 page)

“I see you looking at her,” Seydou said.

Emile looked away.

“You know, your uncle was young too once,” he said. “And I wasn’t always a priest.”

The boy was silent.

“Voodoo has many uses,” he said, taking a few steps toward Emile and standing in front of him. “It’s not just calling for the
loa
.”

He took him by the shoulders.

“Voodoo is about life and death and everything in between,” Seydou said quietly. “Especially love.” Emile flicked his eyes to Seydou’s face and quickly away.
 
“As long as the love is true, voodoo can help.” Seydou waited. “Do you want my help?”

Emile looked at the ground between them and then dropped his hands to his sides and hung his head. He nodded.

Seydou smiled.

“Good,” he said, patting both his arms. “Good. Then go to her room and fetch me something of her. I need something personal. It doesn’t have to be big.”

“Something personal?” Emile asked, looking up.

Seydou grinned at him.

“Hair from her brush, fingernail clippings from the trash, or a piece of clothing that goes next to her skin.”

Emile’s face reddened.

Seydou gently patted the side of it.

“Good boy,” he said. “Go fetch it.”

• • • • •

Mel quickly settled into the search pattern of the dive, though the current was strong. Visibility wasn’t as good as yesterday but only by a little. She glanced over at Kirk and then back at the sandy bottom. He’d been trying to talk to her since she’d woken up, in the middle of the floor, in a mess of blood and red dirt, still a bit dazed.
 

Even as she kicked against the current, a shiver ran down her spine. Her stomach still burned and she’d had no appetite for breakfast. More than that, though, she didn’t know what to make of Kirk.
 

He betrayed me.

But even so, she couldn’t deny that she craved the feel of his arms around her, especially after last night. She sensed that he wanted to comfort her, though he’d been careful in front of their captors. His hand had lightly brushed the small of her back as they’d left the jail in the morning. She’d nearly turned to him then–except for the fact that Jaston and Emile had guns trained on them.

But he betrayed my father.

And now he knew that she knew. He’d looked shocked.

Or he put on a good act.

An awful thought occurred to her.

Is that what he did when we made love?

The frenzied scene blazed into her mind–the way their bodies had melded together.

No.
She almost shook her head.
No, that hadn’t been an act. It
couldn’t
be.

Suddenly, she felt a hand on her arm. In a flurry of bubbles and flapping arms and legs, she frantically backed away. Kirk floated in front of her, using his flippers to keep in place against the current. She stared at him.
 

What was going on? When had he stopped paralleling her course in the search?
 

He pointed down.

She adjusted her mask and respirator as her heart pounded in her ears but she looked down. The sea floor was littered with gold coins. Just below her, a clump of them rose from the surrounding light beige sand. Kirk was already swimming down to them and, as she watched, he picked them up as a mass. Most of them glinted brightly, while some had a light patina and others had started to become encrusted. He waggled it, letting the loose sand drift away. There didn’t seem to be a pattern to the rest of the coins but the scatter area seemed roughly rectangular, about five by ten yards. Any other day, any other time, she would have been thrilled.
 

But not today.

Kirk looked at his watch and then at his gauges. He gave her the thumbs up.

Time to surface?

They couldn’t have been down here for more than thirty minutes. She looked up behind Kirk to the bottom of the boat. Normally she’d be loathe to end a dive. As she looked to the surface though, she knew it wasn’t ending the dive that made her hesitate. It was being with those men again. In the ocean, even through the body suit, she felt cleansed–cleansed of whatever they’d done to her.

Kirk gave an emphatic thumbs up as they drifted together along the bottom, his short hair rippling sideways. She checked her watch. It had only been thirty minutes. Then she checked her gas gauge. She was on reserves.

Reserves!

The current must have been stronger than she thought. Or she’d been breathing harder than normal. Or both. She returned the thumbs up sign and they immediately started for the top. Though she kept her eye on Kirk as they approached the safety stop level, Kirk checked her and didn’t stop. It wasn’t strictly necessary and diving on reserves was a sign to surface–now.

• • • • •

Jaston actually whooped.

As Mel removed her flippers, Jaston took the coins and ran to where Seydou and Emile were waiting. She felt the weight of the tank lift from her shoulders and she quickly unbuckled the buoyancy vest so Kirk could lift it off. When it was clear, she rubbed her hands over her face and took a deep breath. With a start, she realized she wanted to cry.

“How are you feeling?” Kirk whispered.

She quickly rubbed her eyes and sat up straight.

“Great,” she said, getting up, not looking at him. “Peachy.”

“Mel, stop it,” he whispered. “I want to explain about the San Juan and the Margarita.”

“Yeah,” she said, laughing without mirth. “I’ll bet you do.”

“You two!” came Seydou’s voice.

Although Mel looked at him, Kirk ignored him and put a hand on her shoulder.

“Mel, please,” he said.

“Our master is calling,” she said, finally looking at Kirk. “The one we’re giving all the treasure to.”

“Come here!” Seydou yelled as he came toward them.

Kirk’s jaw muscles worked but he turned at the sound of approaching feet. He picked up his tank and vest and took both to the compressor. Seydou grabbed Mel’s arm and dragged her over to where Emile and Jaston were crouching over the coins.

“How much is there?” Seydou asked.

All three faces were turned to her and all three pairs of eyes were shining.
 

Treasure fever.
 

They’d caught it. She almost felt as though she were watching the whole scene as a distant observer. It was the most fabulous find of the century and she felt nothing. She looked at each of them, the expectant faces, the euphoria, and then shrugged.

“Hard to say,” she said.

What did it matter to her?

“I’m going to fix lunch,” Kirk said from behind her.

“Lunch?” Jaston said, repeating the word.

Seydou said something to him in Creole and Jaston frowned. In fact, they all did.

“Mel needs to eat,” Kirk said to Seydou.

She’d almost turned to Kirk and told him she could decide for herself if she wanted to eat or not.

“Mel needs to dive,” Seydou said. “You both do.”

“We can’t,” said Kirk. “It’s too soon. If one or both of us get the bends, there won’t be any more diving today and probably not tomorrow.” Kirk paused. “You know the bends? Nitrogen sickness?”

“Yes, yes,” Seydou said impatiently, waving him off.

He said something in Creole to Emile and Jaston, whose crestfallen faces said everything. Now that they’d seen that the wreck truly was close and that the treasure was there for the taking if only you could dive, they were hooked. But as much as she hated to admit it, Kirk was right on both scores. She really did need to eat and it was too soon to dive again.

Seydou barked something at Emile. Though he’d been trying to rub the patina from the coins, he looked up and then at Mel. Slowly, he got up and went below.

“Emile will get the food,” Seydou said to her. “He wants to make sure you are well.”

It’d been a relief to see Mel eat, though it hadn’t been a lot. It wasn’t like her but, then again, she’d been through a lot. They both had.

Kirk kept himself busy filling the tanks as Emile hovered around her. She sat on the deck bench, near the wheel house, as Emile brought her more water and stood waiting for her to drink it. Emile was going to be the key. It was just a matter of time.

Jaston had relaxed and stopped pointing the gun all the time and seemed content to just hold it on his lap as he drank. The man drank like a fish but never seemed to get completely drunk.

Kirk glanced at Seydou, who was turning the lump of coins over and over in his hands. He was the problem. He controlled the other two. But right now, not even Seydou worried him. It was that weather. Kirk eyed the clouds as he closed the valve on the tank. Sweeping in under dark skies, the sea to the west was dark and white-capped.

“Weather’s turning squally,” Kirk said.

Seydou looked out at it, as did Mel. Mel looking made Emile turn to look as well.

“Then you better dive quick,” Seydou said. “Quick now.”

“I think we better dive
tomorrow
,” Kirk said. “That front is moving fast.”

Seydou stood and motioned at Jaston, who pointed his gun at Kirk.

“Quick now,” Seydou repeated.

“Look,” Kirk said, rocking with the larger waves. “I’m not controlling the weather and I’m not making this stuff up. I’m telling you it’s not safe to dive now.”

Seydou motioned to Jaston and pointed at Mel. Jaston lazily aimed the gun in her direction.

“I say dive now,” Seydou said smirking.
 

Suddenly, Mel stood, a little unsteady, and Emile reached out to help her.

Take his hand
, Kirk thought.
 

But instead, she moved away from Emile, holding on to the deck railing for support as the boat moved with the growing swells. The bright pink suit and blond hair stood out under the darkening grey of the sky and water. All eyes watched her as she approached the dive deck. Emile trailed behind her, Seydou grinned, and Jaston continued to point the gun at her.
 

Though Kirk wanted to reach out to her, he knew better. Ever since Jaston’s attack, she’d been withdrawn. Whenever he neared her, she skirted away. She never made eye-contact with anyone, including him. It twisted Kirk’s insides to see her like this. As he lifted the tank and vest to her shoulders, he wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and hold her close.

But instead he clenched his jaw and they mechanically went through their procedures and checklists, all under the watchful gaze of their audience. After what seemed like an eternity, they were ready to go.

They stepped off the dive deck.

As soon as they were in the water, Kirk knew the dive would be short. The growing swells at the surface were only part of the changes that the coming storm had brought. The strong current of earlier had turned into a quick back and forth churning that reduced visibility.

As usual, though, Mel headed straight for the bottom. Like him, she was used to diving in all kinds of conditions. As he followed her down, he thought back to what she’d said in the prison cell.
 

Had Earl really accused him of ruining his life? Earl had loved him like a son. Kirk knew that and he had felt the same–right up to the day Earl had told him to leave. Though he’d never understood why, he thought he knew now. He looked at Mel below him, the sensuous outline of her hourglass shape and how she’d said she’d never stopped thinking of him. Earl had sensed it. Though Kirk had had no idea, Earl had somehow known and cut him off.

Mel approached the anchor to start the search grid though she must already know it was pointless. The closer they got to the bottom, the more turbulent it became. Not only was the bottom swirling with fine particulates, larger pieces of debris were washing back and forth. The bubbles from Mel’s regulator were taking off at a diagonal but quickly zig-zagging only a few feet away. They were both strong swimmers but that wasn’t the issue.

Visibility can’t be more than a few yards.

Kirk kicked harder to stay close to Mel. As he passed the anchor line, it became taut and then relaxed and then taut again. The surface swells were increasing as well. It was going to be tricky getting back into the boat. As Mel leveled off next to the anchor, she checked her dive compass and began the search grid.

As with the earlier dive, Kirk kept his eye on the gauges. He could feel his thighs working hard and knew he must be burning oxygen at a prodigious rate. Mel would be too.

For twenty minutes, they transected the sea floor as conditions became murkier. Suddenly, a powerful current swept them several yards off course.

Storm surge.

In the murk, the sea floor had nearly disappeared but it had taken on a strange lumpiness, like a jumble of gigantic X’s. And then they disappeared in the churning. Mel turned and looked at him and he immediately signaled with a thumbs up. It was time to surface–
past
time. Up above, the diving deck at the stern of the boat was slapping into the water and then disappearing. Waves were tossing the boat almost chaotically.

They both surfaced about ten feet behind the stern. Only Emile was there but he called out to them and then to Seydou and Jaston. As Kirk had seen from below, conditions were rough. The pitching and rolling of the boat meant that the diving deck and ladder were as much a danger as a help to any diver in the water next to them. Mel approached cautiously, as aware as he was of how quickly this could go wrong. If she could get her flippers on the ladder, he’d be able to push the tank from the bottom to give her a boost. But first she had to get her feet on a rung.
 

She hovered just behind it, letting the waves wash over her as she treaded water, watching for her opportunity. As the ladder descended, she grasped the handle bar with one hand and started to put her flippers through. But as Kirk got ready to push the tank up behind her, it disappeared. He backed away as waves crested over his head and then he surfaced.

On the deck, Emile had Mel by the arm and was pulling. As the deck slammed down into the water, her flippers slipped completely through the ladder and under the boat.