Authors: Katherine Irons
Waterborne (11 page)
“I will be high king of Atlantis, Mother,” he said. “With your help or without it, I will be anointed Poseidon. If I have to kill one brother or dozens, it doesn’t matter. I will succeed. The question is, do you want to rule at my side or not?”
“What a foolish question. Why would you ask such a thing of me? Haven’t I always had your best interests at heart? Haven’t I sacrificed everything for you, my only son?”
“And do you love me, Mother, truly?” He moved closer to the bed-hangings. How long, he wondered, would it take to strangle her? Would anyone hear her screams and come? And if they did, would anyone care?
“Of course, I do, my precious. Who else would I love?”
“Yourself. You’ve always come first.”
Halimeda shook her head. “What a thing to say. You have the oddest way of putting things, Caddoc.” She tottered forward and kissed his cheek. Her caress was cold and slimy; it made his skin crawl. “You always were somewhat. . . peculiar,” she continued. “But I loved you all the same, my beautiful boy. You are my hope for the future.”
“For me or for you?”
“For us both,” she pronounced. “You need me. Never forget that. I have the brains you lack, and without me, what would you be? One more prince in a household of Poseidon’s offspring. People would hardly remember your name.”
He shoved her away, and then wiped his hands on his tunic. She felt sticky, and her odor ... Really, there must be something the healers could do about the stench of rotting eels that lingered around her.
“So what will you do now?” she urged.“Find Alexandros and kill him.”
“Good.” She smiled that memorable grin. “And what will you do with Morgan and Orion?”
“Kill them. Kill them all.”
“So you shall, my precious. And ’Enakai will help you. Her armies will give you the power you need to accomplish your destiny.”
“To become Poseidon.” The thought eased the tension in his shoulders and arms. He could no longer feel the seaweed between his fingers or imagine how black her face would become in the seconds before her death. “And if I do, will I be good enough then, Mother? Will you be proud of me?”
“And why wouldn’t I?” she agreed. “Who wouldn’t be proud of the greatest king to ever sit the throne of Atlantis? When you come to your own, when you are Poseidon, I will love you as no son has ever been loved by his mother.”
“Promise?”
“I swear it to you, my darling. On my life.”
CHAPTER 11
I
n the cave labyrinth that snaked beneath the Ranirao Atoll and the island of Tahiti, Alexandros’ men, Dewi and Bleddyn, faced the gold-skinned Lemorian warrior-woman with drawn weapons. “Give me one reason why we should trust a member of ’Enakai’s royal guard,” Dewi said. “If you helped Prince Alexandros to escape as you claim, why isn’t he with you?”
n the cave labyrinth that snaked beneath the Ranirao Atoll and the island of Tahiti, Alexandros’ men, Dewi and Bleddyn, faced the gold-skinned Lemorian warrior-woman with drawn weapons. “Give me one reason why we should trust a member of ’Enakai’s royal guard,” Dewi said. “If you helped Prince Alexandros to escape as you claim, why isn’t he with you?”
This purple-scalp-locked shrew had been waiting for them in a dark passage and now confronted them with a naked sword in one hand and killing spear in another, eyes glittering shark-like through a black tattooed mask. “If I intended to do you harm, I could have killed you when you entered the cave,” she replied in only slightly accented Atlantean. “For a small man, you move clumsily.”
Dewi’s upper lip drew taut. “Small? You call me small?” His hackles rose and his knuckles whitened as he tightened his grip on his trident and glared into her eyes. How dare she insult him? Dewi of the Red Hands? Hero of the Wall where Prince Alexandros’ father fell to Melqart’s hordes? Winner of the coveted Silver Trident for bravery?
He looked at Bleddyn for support, but his partner only grimaced. “She does top you by two inches, maybe three.”
“And you’re both blind,” Dewi flung back. “It’s you, not I who is misshapen, woman! I am exactly the right height and breadth for a warrior.” He glared at her. Whoever saw a female with tattooed breasts and as many battle scars as he had?
She shrugged in disdain. “You are not only lacking in height, but somewhat narrow in the shoulders. Atlantean or not, I doubt you could lift a half-grown sea lion in a stiff wind.”
Dewi choked back the curse that rose in his throat. He’d not give this Lemorian slut the satisfaction of trading insults. He was within a hand’s height of his prince and powerful enough to carry a wounded comrade to safety in a tidal wave. How dare she question his physique or his strength?
This battle-scarred harpy wasn’t what he’d expected when they’d received a message concerning Alex’s whereabouts. Dewi had served his prince long enough to know Alexandros’ effect on females, and he’d assumed that this Anuata was another of his sexual conquests. It wasn’t difficult to believe that another lovesick wench was willing to commit treason to save the life of her golden-haired lover. He hadn’t been expecting to face naked blades in the darkness or a tattooed Amazon who appeared as formidable as her well-honed weapons.
Anuata tugged a gold arm ring from her bulging upper bicep and tossed it to Bleddyn with haughty nonchalance. “There is your master’s token, Atlantean, to prove I come in his name.”
“It’s Alex’s,” his partner confirmed.
“I don’t lie,” Anuata said. “I have no need to.”
Dewi’s hand ached to plunge his trident through the arrogant barbarian’s heart. “It proves nothing,” he said, meeting her stare eye to eye. “How do we know you didn’t ambush our prince, murder him, and strip his band from his dead body?”
“Enough,” Bleddyn lowered his weapon. “She’s right. She could have taken your head off as we rounded that corner. And the two of us are hardly worth the bother of the Lemorians setting up a trap to catch. It’s not as if we’re wealthy noblemen or generals.”
“So where is he?” Dewi asked, reluctantly lowering his guard.
“Still in sanctuary. Safe enough for the moment, but time there is limited. He cannot remain there, and when he leaves, the high priestess’ forces will do their best to take him.”
“But you could pass through their lines?” Dewi was dubious. This Anuata still had to earn his trust. “It seems farfetched.”
She sighed. “Your head is as full of coral as your stance is weak, it seems. Prince Alexandros isn’t alone. There’s a female in his company.”
“There’s always a woman.” Bleddyn chuckled. “So, it’s the woman he can’t get out. Is she Lemorian as well?”
“Not exactly. More human.”
“Human?” Bleddyn grinned like a tiger shark. “By Apollo’s golden crotch, that I’d live to see the day! Not normally a fan of humans, our prince.”
“Well, he is now,” Anuata said. “This one, at least. He believes himself in some sort of debt to her.” She rested the butt of her throwing spear on the cave floor but kept her sword unsheathed. “I tried to talk sense into him, but he’d have none of it. We could both have been safe away if he hadn’t insisted on going back after her.”
“Going back where?” Dewi asked. This woman’s tale was stranger and stranger. So far as he knew, Alex had taken his pleasure with every species from fairy to mermaid, but he never so much as looked at a human female. His hatred of their kind ran too deep.
“It’s a long story,” the Lemorian said. “Best told by your prince. And mine,” she added. “He’s taken me into his service.”
Dewi swore an imaginative oath. “I’ll not credit that until I hear it from Alex’s own lips.”
The woman glanced at Bleddyn. “Not too bright, is he? I wonder that Alexandros would have such as him as bodyguard. I know you lost many soldiers in the war against Melqart’s horde, but your ranks must be thinner than we’d heard.”
“I have been with Alex longer than you’ve been alive!” Dewi protested. “And I’ll be with him when you’re only a bad memory.”
Anuata drew herself to her full height and confronted him, eye to eye. “Talk is cheap, little man. I’ve yet to see the strength in your sword arm or your courage in battle.” She rolled her eyes and let her gaze travel down his body to linger on his groin. “Not to mention that I doubt you’ve much to boast of where it counts.”
“Enough, you two!” Bleddyn swam between them and raised his hands. “I don’t doubt we’ll have more than enough to face out there without fighting between ourselves.” He turned his attention to Anuata. “Lead us to this sanctuary the quickest way, but I warn you, if you betray us by word or deed, I’ll part your head from your body and use that scalp-lock as a belt.”
Alex crept soundlessly to the bed and looked down at Ree. She seemed to be sound asleep, her red-gold hair spread across the pillow, one arm thrown carelessly over her head, and the coverlet drawn to her waist. Again, he felt that same unfamiliar sensation as he took in her exotic beauty and her fragile vulnerability.
He’d supposed that once he’d bedded her, the powerful attraction that she held over him would fade. Instead, he found he wanted her more than ever, and not just for the pleasure he knew he’d find between those sweet, soft thighs, but something more ... something elusive that troubled him. His throat tightened. How was it that he found her so enticing? She was built much as any other woman: breasts, waist, hips, and legs that seemed to go on and on. What made her so different, and why was she the spark to his flame?
He’d always been a man for women exclusively. Not all men were. Bleddyn, as staunch a fighter and as good a friend as any could ask for, found his sexual satisfaction in other males. Once, when they drank more than was good for him, Alex had asked if he’d ever taken his ease with a woman, and Bleddyn admitted that he had. But he’d found the experience less than he’d hoped for. Alex’s half brother Caddoc, in contrast, boasted of happily futtering either sex, alone or in group situations. To each his own, Alex supposed. So long as no one was hurt, who was he to judge another man’s intimate pleasures?
But never had he thought that he would be stirred to passion by a human female. There were rumors, of course. Legend said that Atlantean men were drawn to the intense sensuality of such women. But such unions were forbidden by law and custom, and any who failed to heed those admonishments were severely punished.
His own brother Morgan, now Poseidon, high king of Atlantis, had taken a bride that had been born only half-Atlantean. Alex’s twin, Orion, had so forgotten himself that he’d wooed and won a human woman who was now his wife. But both these women had gone through the transformation that made them true Atlanteans. And as much as Alex cared for them as sisters and as family, he’d never understood how such a thing was possible. Until now ...
Ree’s breathing was even, and she hadn’t stirred since he’d entered the chamber. Her lips were slightly parted, and her naked breasts rose and fell with each breath. His gaze was drawn to those pink and shapely mounds and to the shell-like buds. His groin tightened, and desire swept over him as he imagined drawing those hard nipples between his lips and suckling until she cried out with desire. He wanted to throw himself on her, to pin her hands against the mattress, to part her thighs and bury his throbbing erection deep in her moist folds.
Standing here, drinking in her beauty, filled him with exquisite torture. He could smell her skin, imagine the slightly salty taste of her mouth, and feel the heat rising from her unclad body. When he’d entered the chamber, he’d been hungry and weary. He’d wanted nothing more than to fill his stomach and rest his aching muscles with a few hours sleep ... but not now ... Now, a different kind of hunger seized him.
His gaze moved up over the rise of her breasts to the delicate throat with its soft and sweet-smelling hollows. One pink ear was exposed, the other hidden by a cascade of curls. A golden starfish earring dangled from a creamy earlobe. He wanted to lick that ear, to nibble it, to whisper suggestions that would surely turn her rosy cheeks a deeper hue of pink.
Carefully, he studied her face, taking in the high cheekbones, the fair and flawless complexion, and the thick, dark lashes that framed her large, oval eyes. Her nose was small, perfectly shaped, with a hint of a saucy tilt, and a dusting of gold freckles across the surface.
As hauntingly beautiful as a mermaid,
he thought. Human, yes, but not quite human. He tried to remember her as she was when he first laid eyes on her, but the moments on the deck of the
Anastasiya
had been confused and fleeting—not to mention the darkness. When he’d carried Ree away under the sea, she’d been dying, blood-soaked and struggling for breath. And in the caves ... No, he’d not remember her as she was then. That was the past. This Ree, the one he admired now, was a different woman, not human, not Atlantean or Lemorian, but a fascinating combination of the three.
he thought. Human, yes, but not quite human. He tried to remember her as she was when he first laid eyes on her, but the moments on the deck of the
Anastasiya
had been confused and fleeting—not to mention the darkness. When he’d carried Ree away under the sea, she’d been dying, blood-soaked and struggling for breath. And in the caves ... No, he’d not remember her as she was then. That was the past. This Ree, the one he admired now, was a different woman, not human, not Atlantean or Lemorian, but a fascinating combination of the three.
He wanted her. He wanted her now. He wanted to clasp his hands around her waist, to run his fingers over her hips and lift her hard against him. He wanted to feel her body arch to fit his own and to hear her sobs of ecstasy as he drove his length deep inside her.
Overwhelming heat swept over him, and he bent and clasped a hand over her mouth. “Ree,” he whispered.
One second, he was leaning over her, his lips only inches from her own, and the next, she had seized his hand, twisted out from under him and sat astride him. Her forearm came down across his throat, and a knee threatened to turn his rich baritone to a permanent tenor.
“Ree! It’s Alex!” he managed just before she whipped a sharply-honed eating knife from under the pillow and threatened to sever his carotid artery. “Have you lost your mind?” he shouted as he delivered a blow to her wrist hard enough to numb muscle and nerves and send the knife spinning across the room. He wrapped his legs around hers and flipped her onto her back, then pinned her right hand over her head.
As he attempted to capture the left, she drove the flat of her hand into his neck just below his ear. The blow nearly knocked him senseless, but he recovered enough to block a second attack and lock his fingers around her wrist. Breaking bones would have been simpler, but he held back, not wanting to injure her.
“Ree!” he cried. “Stop! It’s me!” Somehow in the encounter, she’d sunk her teeth into his hand so that beads of blood welled up, crimson against his bluish scales. Vaguely, he was aware of a stinging pain, but the sensation only fueled his fervor.
Panting, she stared up at him, and gradually, the fierce light in her eyes banked to smoldering embers. “Never, never do that again!”
“No? And what if I do this?” He lowered his head and ground his mouth savagely against hers. Her body was soft and open beneath his. His sex swelled and throbbed with the ache of needing her, but she wasn’t ready. He had to wait ... had to have her willing.
She turned her face away. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Trying to get us out of here.” He nuzzled the warm hollow beneath her ear. “Trying to save your neck.” The scent of her was maddening. She parted her thighs but when he tried to settle his body between them, she slammed a knee up again to block his entry.
“You took your sweet time about it, you bastard!”
“Such sweet words for a lover.”
“You blue son-of-a-bitch! I’ll give you sweet words!”
Shuddering with controlled desire, he kissed his way back across her cheek to her mouth, pressed his lips against hers, and didn’t flinch when she caught his lip between her teeth and bit him. Hard. He tasted the salt-sweet flavor of his own blood, and felt the tide of lust catch him in its undertow and drag him down.
Seizing her shoulders, he twisted her and pressed her facedown against the mattress. She struggled, kicking and elbowing him, but his greater weight made the difference, and he held her captive as he stripped away his armor and tunic, tossing them aside.
“I’ll kill you,” she threatened. “You’ll not rape—”
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