Neptune’s Daughter

by

Marie Morin

© copyright July 2003 by Marie Morin

Cover Art by Jenny Dixon, (c) copyright July 2003

ISBN 1-58608-320-1

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA

www.newconceptspublishing.com

Chapter One

Serious scientists had never agreed that there was anything out of the ordinary about the Bermuda Triangle. A few had conducted half hearted investigations and had decided that, despite the numerous, bizarre accidents in the area, it was purely folklore, or urban legend. Despite her tenuous ties to the scientific community, however, Stephanie ‘Stevie’ Reynolds was inclined to reserve judgment.

If she had an area of expertise--which was also a matter up for debate in the scientific community--it was the Bermuda Triangle, and her own experiences had made her more inclined to believe it was just a little more than folklore.

At least some of the incidents could be put down to nature, incompetence, or the greed of man, probably most of them, but there were a handful that no one had been able to explain away. The fact was, the Bermuda Triangle formed something like a ‘weather bowl’. It was an enormous body of water surrounded by land, in the tropics, which sometimes created unusual weather conditions and sometimes merely acted as a catch basin for the stranger manifestations of nature, but in either case, it was a location rife with sudden, violent and potentially unusual weather conditions that could and had cost many people their lives. Since it was also a high traffic area, bingo! lots and lots of strange accidents.

And then there was the drug trade and modern day pirating, a spin off of the drug trade. Only a couple of months earlier, Stevie had stumbled upon one Miami drug lord’s underwater cache.

The results had been … unpleasant … for everyone involved, except the Coast Guard, of course, who’d gotten credit for the bust of the century. Stevie had not only found herself in the limelight as a witness, she’d been forbidden by the authorities to conduct any more studies in the area until the case was resolved, and not so subtly threatened by the drug kingpin that had been arrested.

She was no fool. She might be considered obsessive about her work; absentminded by friends and coworkers; and a crack pot by her fellow colleagues, but no one had ever suggested that she was stupid. The drug lord’s threat had terrorized her for weeks, until it had finally occurred to her that this was something in the hands of providence.

The authorities could not protect her. The drug lord had connections, and he would either have her killed, or not. It didn’t matter where she was holed up, he could find her if he wanted to and she would die if the fates decreed.

That being the case, she didn’t see much sense in trying to hide. She wasn’t ready to die. She fully intended to be as careful as she possibly could, but she also knew she would be a raving lunatic if she remained in hiding, with nothing to do but worry about when and where and how the drug lord would strike.

Having decided to at least live her life as she saw fit as long as it was still hers, she’d slipped her leash and chartered a small boat for a short excursion into the Triangle.

She was also resolved on one other issue. If she ever stumbled upon another underwater drug cache, she was going to pretend she hadn’t seen it. To hell with being a good little citizen. If she’d known before what she knew now, she’d never have gotten involved to begin with.

The authorities had treated her as if she was a criminal herself when she’d reported it, questioning her in a Gestapo fashion for hours and hours, searching her apartment and lab, tapping her phone, following her. When they’d finally decided she was ‘clear’, they’d imprisoned her, calling it ‘protective custody’. Contrary to what a lot of people seemed to believe, protective custody wasn’t for her benefit. They just wanted to make sure she lived long enough to testify. After that, she was on her own.

It was that, in large part, that had been the deciding factor in the ‘insane’ excursion she was currently enjoying.

With an effort, Stevie shrugged her unpleasant thoughts off.

She was here to enjoy herself and put all of that behind her. If she was going to drag the ‘baggage’ along, she might just as well go back into protective custody.

She stopped and looked around. It was then that she discovered that she’d lost all track of time and, as bad or worse, she hadn’t been paying attention. She hadn’t mentally ‘flagged’ any landmarks.

Her heart skipped a beat. She checked her air gauge. To her dismay, she saw she had less that twenty minutes left on it. That meant she’d been ‘star gazing’ for more than thirty. She could have wandered a mile or more from the charter boat, depending, naturally, on just how fast she’d been swimming.

Instinctively, she looked up.

Not very surprisingly, she couldn’t see the hull of the boat.

She looked at her gauge again.

There was no cause for panic—at least not yet. She had more than enough time for a leisurely ascent. She might have a long swim once she got to the surface, but that wasn’t cause for panic. Air wouldn’t be an issue. Time wouldn’t even be an issue. The guy had been paid. When she’d left him he had been very happily fishing on her dime. Unless a squall came up, there was no danger.

Still, and regardless of what everyone seemed to think given her status as witness, she wasn’t the type to take unnecessary risks. She decided she would just take a few more pictures to study later and then mosey on up to the surface.

As she looked around for something worthy of a few photographs, she spied a wreck just a short distance away. It looked to be a fairly modern vessel … possibly a hurricane ‘victim’ or pirates. She wasn’t inclined to explore it. Exploring wrecks was for tourists, treasure hunters and idiots. They here inherently dangerous and could become a death trap for underwater explorers, even seasoned veterans. Wrecks were a popular spot for sea creatures, however, since they provided shelter for the smaller creatures that were at the bottom of the ocean’s food chain.

She decided to go over and have a quick look. If nothing else, the wreck would provide an interesting backdrop for a photo shoot, and since freelance photography paid for a good bit of her research, she was always on the lookout for something to sell.

She checked her gauge again when she reached the wreck, and decided she could spare ten minutes at the very most.

A small school of fish burst from a break in the hull as she neared it. Lifting her camera, she followed their ‘flight’, wondering if she’d spooked them, or something else.

She peered toward the gaping hole, but the wreck was fairly intact and dark as a pit inside. If anything dangerous was lurking there, she couldn’t see it.

All the same, she decided to move around to the other side. She could take some shots of the prow.

The boat was resting against a short outcropping of lava rock. As she rounded the pillar, however, she saw something unexpected, a tail fin of surprising proportions.

She stopped abruptly, eyeing the fin with a mixture of caution, curiosity and carefully leavened excitement. It was predominately blue. Mentally, she ran down her list of ‘blue’ fish, indexed under proportions. She came up with a blank.

This thing was huge. From the size of the fin, she figured it must be as big as a dolphin, at least.

She sucked in the side of her cheek, gnawing on it worriedly—a habit she’d unconsciously picked up when she’d consciously laid down nail biting. She really, really wanted to get a better look at the creature at the other end of that tail. On the other hand, she most definitely didn’t want to tangle with anything that big if it objected to the strange ‘fish’ in the wet suit. She wasn’t armed with anything but a camera. If it attacked, she had no way to defend herself.

Finally, curiosity won out over caution. The coloration of the tail fin indicated some sort of tropical variety, but the majority were generally tiny. She had to see—and photograph if at all possible—what was on the back side of the rocks.

Lifting her camera into position, she eased around the rock slowly, clicking the shutter as she went.

The tail fin was attached to a long, parti-colored tail, almost snake-like in that it did not widen perceptibly as she followed the coil around the rock.

She dropped her camera when she reached the other side. Fortunately, it was attached by a cord to her belt or it might have been lost forever, for she was too dumbfounded even to look to see where it landed.

A man was attached to the tail—It looked like a man. Pale hair drifted lazily in the sea currents as if the yard long tendrils had a life of their own.

Unless one counted the sword strapped to his ‘waist’, or the trident propped against the rock beside him, the ‘man’ wasn’t wearing anything from the waist up—no mask, no air tank in sight. His arms were crossed over his bare chest. He appeared to be deep in thought, and not very pleasant ones at that. A scowl marred his brow. His lower lip was thrust forward, for all the world like a petulant child denied their treat.

Stevie stared at the vision for several moments, wondering if she was seeing things. That thought prompted her to check her tanks. Maybe she was seeing things. Maybe she had a bad connection and was getting too much or, more likely, too little oxygen? Maybe she’d run out of oxygen and was breathing her own stale air? Hallucinating from carbon dioxide poisoning?

That thought brought her head up once more. She hadn’t noticed any breathing bubbles escaping his nose or mouth. Maybe he was just a wax figure of a merman, or something like that?

He was definitely no wax figure, most definitely a living, breathing creature. He was looking straight at her when she looked up again.

Chapter Two

They gaped at each other in stunned surprise. Unfortunately, in Stevie’s case, gaping meant she lost her grip on her mouth piece. It floated down--tiny, precious, air bubbles escaping.

She snatched it up and shoved it into her mouth again, forcing the briny sea water out of her mouth the best she could, swallowing the remainder with some difficulty so that she could breathe from her air hose.

If she’d had time to think about it, she would have expected the ‘vision’ to have vanished by the time she recovered her composure. Even if she wasn’t just imagining things, most any sort of wild creature, when confronted by another, would not wait around to see if they’d just been confronted by a predator.

Instead, when she looked up again, she saw that he was studying her with interest, a faint smile curling his lips.

For the first time, she realized that he was stunningly handsome, in a purely classical sense of the word. His precisely chiseled features reminded her of nothing so much as a statue of a Greek god.

Except for the fact that he was obviously flesh and blood—no statue—and his hair was clearly blond—She was fairly certain Greeks were inclined to be dark, not fair.

She remembered her camera quite suddenly. Snatching it up, she pointed it at him and held the button down. Even with the low light conditions, the shutter clicked a half a dozen times before he moved….

Toward her.

She dropped the camera. He was almost nose to nose with her, a faint, disapproving smile curling his lips. He wagged a finger at her, as if to say ‘Naughty, naughty! Don’t do that.’

I can not allow it. It is forbidden.

Stevie frowned at him, studying his lips, but decided she must have imagined she’d heard him speak because his lips weren’t moving, hadn’t.

He reached down and picked up her camera, studying it with obvious curiosity.

Stevie snatched it away from him.

His brows rose at her rudeness. Not that she gave a damn. It was her frigging camera and she wasn’t about to let some—whatever the hell he was—destroy such an expensive piece of equipment. To say nothing of the value of the pictures it now held.

He frowned. The loss will cause you hardship?

His lips still hadn’t moved, but Stevie was in no doubt that she’d ‘heard’ something. She checked her air gauge and her heart skipped a beat. She was running on fumes. Where had the time gone? She couldn’t have lost that much air when she’d dropped the mouth piece.

She was in deep shit.

This is a crudity, yes? What does it mean?

It means I’m a dead woman. I’ve run out of air and I’m too deep to surface fast enough. Shit!

Give me the devise and I will help you.

Like hell! Have you got any idea how much I paid for this frigging thing?

No.

Well, I can’t replace the damned thing! And no way am I handing it over to a frigging fish, particularly when there’s nothing you can do--What am I doing? Arguing with myself when I ought to be at least trying to swim for it!

She pushed away from the creature and began stroking for the surface. Even if she made it, she was going to end up with the bends, but she might survive that. She wasn’t going to survive long without air.

She discovered the ‘merman’ was swimming effortlessly alongside her.

She spared a moment for a shooing gesture. Apparently, he wasn’t easily put off, however, because he continued to dog her steps. She thought she heard a deep sigh, as if of resignation, and discovered he was frowning. In the next moment, some strange ‘thing’ appeared around her and she dropped to the bottom of it as if she’d suddenly lost buoyancy.

It looked like a giant bubble of air.

It is. You can take the breathing device off. It is safe.

He was out of his mind, of course, but she discovered she was sucking on nothing at about that moment. She ditched the mouth piece since it was no longer of any use, wondering if she could actually hold her breath for five minutes. The record was considerably less than that and she had never even come close to the record.

You can breathe. There is air inside the pressure bubble. I am afraid I am going to have to take your camera, though. I apologize, but it is forbidden. I have already been banished for a year. It is nearly up and I want to go home. If I allow you to take it, I may be banished another year.

She’d begun hallucinating from lack of air. She gave up the fight and sucked in a lung full of … air. She expelled the air and breathed again. It was air. Tentatively, she lifted one hand and felt around the space. The sides of the bubble yielded, stretching as she pushed against it.

She snatched her hand back, fearful that she would burst it.

Looking around, she discovered that the merman was holding it, pushing her along in front of him.

She was completely at this thing’s mercy.

Shit!

I do not think that is very ladylike.

Kiss my ass!

His brows rose, doubt and hopefulness crossing his features. You want to make love?

She glared at him, but he didn’t appear to be joking. What was she thinking? He hadn’t said anything at all!

It is telepathy.

She was taken aback, as much by the comment as by the fact that her brain seemed to be providing her with at least semi-logical explanations for the unexplainable. Well, I’m not telepathic!

I know, but I am, so it does not matter. I can hear your thoughts.

It might not matter to you, buster, but it damn sure matters to me!

My name is not Buster. It is Adonis.

Stevie gaped at him for a long moment and then burst out laughing. She laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks. When she finally managed to contain herself, she saw that he was looking affronted. Sorry! I’ve never heard anyone admit to being an Adonis.

He looked puzzled. I am not AN Adonis. I am Adonis. There was a lengthy pause, and then—What is an Adonis?

Somebody like the original Adonis—disgustingly conceited.

He stopped abruptly, glaring at her. I AM the original Adonis, the ONLY Adonis and I am NOT conceited!

Hey, Stevie thought placatingly, glancing worriedly toward the surface and wondering if she was going to make it after all, don’t go ballistic on me. I was just talking about the myths … you know, the Greek myths about the god Adonis?

They never said that!

Stevie sighed, realizing that she was probably dead already. She’d never done any research on death herself, but she knew the brain was the last thing to go, at least parts of it. Undoubtedly, death produced some pretty bizarre hallucinations as sections of the brain died off. Or maybe it was the carbon dioxide?

Do not change the subject.

What subject?

You insulted me….

I did no such thing!

You said I was conceited!

I said THE Adonis was conceited. There’s a difference.

His lips tightened. How can there be a difference when I am Adonis?

Stevie let out a long suffering sigh. Is English your second language or something?

Yes.

Oh. Well, I guess that explains it. You just misunderstood me.

I understand English very well.

Oh. Well, it’s all a lot of nonsense anyway. They’re just stories.

About me.

Not about you! Good God! They’re made up stories. Even if they were based on somebody that lived way back then--which I admit they could be given some of the more recent archeological discoveries--it has nothing to do with you. And anyway, I didn’t say you were conceited. I don’t even know you. I was just talking about the stories … ancient myths--or ancient history--whichever way you want to look at it.

But there were stories?

Stevie shrugged. The guy thought he was so beautiful that he fell in love with himself when he saw his reflection in the water, fell in and drowned, for God’s sake! You can’t get much more conceited than that!

His lips tightened. That was Narcissus … and it was not like that at all.

Oh. Well, wasn’t he the equivalent … never mind! You’re right. It wasn’t Adonis. Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, do you think you could get me to the surface?

Obviously, you know nothing about mythology.

Not much, actually. I read it for entertainment when I was a kid, but I’ll have to admit all the stories just seem to run together after a while. Then too, the names can get confusing. I could’ve sworn … but … He was supposed to be handsome, though, right? One of the goddesses fell in love with him?

Venus … but I would rather not talk about it.

Impressive! The goddess of love, no less!

That was a long time ago.

Yes. A long, long, longgg time ago!

It was not that long ago!

Jeez! You do like to argue, don’t you? Look, I’d love to hang around and debate all this with you--or let you set me straight—but I really do have to get back to the surface. My charter captain’s going to think I’m a lost cause and leave me.

He glanced around, as if searching for something. You are right. He started the boat up. He is sailing it around in circles, searching for your body.

Shit! Hell fire!

I am SURE that is not ladylike language.

Did I TELL you I was a lady, damn it!

No.

Well, there you are!

You are not a lady?

The only ladies around these days are the hypocrites that hate everybody else who’s having fun. No!

Will you make love with me then?

Stevie couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d slapped her. For several moments she couldn’t decide whether to laugh of cuss him out. It occurred to her after a few moments, however, that she’d asked for it. NO!

I have been really lonely.

How sad! Despite the sarcasm in her voice, however, she couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. Solitude was all very well when it was by choice. It could be agonizing torture when one was desperate for human contact.

Really. I have not even spoken to another human being in ten months.

Really?---What do you mean ‘another human being’?

No one here but me and the fish. The dolphins….

But you ARE a fish!

I am not!

There was a LOT of indignation in those thoughts, but Stevie paid it no mind. After all, it wasn’t like she needed to mind what she was thinking when she was arguing with herself. You’ve got a fish tail! That makes you a fish.

It makes swimming easier. It is not permanent.

Take it off then.

I can not take it off.

Ah ha! That’s what I thought!

He frowned. In the next moment, the tail vanished. In it’s place was two, or maybe three, legs. Stevie peered through the gloom. Two legs and one hell of a cock! Jesus Christ! Put that thing away! It looks dangerous! Stevie thought, torn between admiration, horror and … well shock.

Adonis looked down at himself. I thought women liked big cocks.

Big cocks, yes. That thing looks like a baseball bat. How many women do you know that could handle something like that, for God’s sake!

He glared at her. Well, if you do not want it any way, I would rather keep it like it is.

Just like a man. Does it do tricks?

What?

Just wondering.

He looked at her suspiciously.

She batted her eyes at him, but refused to ‘think’ anything.

His look of suspicion gave way to one of surprise. You can block telepathy?

I can? How convenient. Next time I run into somebody that can use telepathy, I’ll be sure to remember it.
I can see that you are being humorous, but I am serious. It is a rare and unusual ability, especially among mortals.

Mortals? So you’re not mortal, but you are human. Is that what you’re saying?

Immortal.

Right.

He looked as if he was considering arguing over that, as well, but at that moment the bubble broke the surface and promptly vanished. It was as if she’d suddenly had support snatched out from under her … which she supposed later that she had. Stevie swallowed a gulp of sea water as she sank beneath the waves. She came up coughing, aware that the burning pain in her lungs seemed to dispute her theory that she’d been hallucinating.

The sound of a motor caught her attention as the spasm passed, and she looked up in time to see her charter boat bearing down on her. Pulling her mask off, she waved it in the air, shouting for all she was worth to be heard above the roar of the engine. To her relief, the man waved back and then disappeared inside the wheel house once more.

Adonis surfaced beside her, smiling. Despite her turmoil, Stevie felt her heart skip a beat. He really was heartstoppingly gorgeous, especially when he smiled and his blue eyes twinkled with devilment. She had no trouble at all picturing him as a rogue and a lady killer. He must have broke a thousand hearts since he’d turned five.

What was she thinking? He wasn’t real.

“You are so beautiful.”

The flush brought on by her coughing spasm had only begun to subside when he made the comment. Blood rushed back into her cheeks with a vengeance. She would have been uncomfortable with such an assessment at any time. Now, with her long, dark hair plastered to her head and hanging in rat tails, the crimp in her face from the mask she’d been wearing, and the charming purple hue her blush had almost certainly added to her complexion, she could just imagine how lovely she was.

“Thanks. I have to go now.”

“Will I see you again tomorrow?”

Stevie gaped at him. “God, I hope not. If I’m still hallucinating tomorrow I might check in to a hospital and get my head examined.”

He frowned. “Why do you think you are imagining me?”

“Hmm. Let me count the ways.”

“It is because of the tail? I explained that I had only shifted to make traveling underwater easier.”

“Oh! I missed that,” Stevie said sarcastically.

“I detect a note of sarcasm.”

Stevie rolled her eyes. “You should vanish right about now. The charter captain might see you and then I couldn’t explain this away.”

He glanced behind him and ducked beneath the waves abruptly.

A moment later, she felt a tug on her waist and looked down. The ‘creature’, who’d referred to himself as Adonis, was tugging at the cord that secured her camera to her belt. Stevie kneed him in the face and struck off for the boat as fast as she could pedal.

To her surprise, he didn’t follow. She couldn’t believe she’d actually stunned him. The water prevented her from moving fast, or striking hard and, in any case, even if she had hit him he would have been moved away from the blow, not into it. She neither saw, nor felt, him again, however, and reached the boat without incident.

The charter captain leaned over the side and hauled her aboard, scowling. “I thought you knew what you were doing? I was on the point of calling the damned Coast Guard to look for you!”

“Sorry! I get too involved with my work sometimes and loose track of the time.”

“Sorry doesn’t get it, lady! I won’t be bringing you out again if you’re going to pull stupid stunts like that! I make my living with this boat. I can’t afford to have it confiscated as a frigging crime scene!”

“I told you it was an accident! I’ll be more careful from now on!”

He didn’t look mollified in the least, but apparently decided to let it go. Turning away, he stalked off to the wheel house.

Stevie turned to scan the waters around the boat, searching. In a moment, a head appeared above the waves. The late afternoon sun glinted off of his hair as if it was made of pure gold. Shaken and still feeling more than a little disoriented from her experience, Stevie lifted a hand tentatively and waved. She didn’t mean it as a taunt. He’d saved her, whatever—whoever he was, but she supposed, considering his insistence on having her camera, he might have construed it that way.

He stared at her, but he didn’t wave back.

Chapter Three

Stevie had to suppose she was suffering from shock. Truthfully, she couldn’t detect any of the more common symptoms—drop in body temp and blood pressure—but in other ways she felt much like she’d heard accident victims describe the aftermath—much as she’d felt when she’d been involved in a devastating car wreck herself--stunned and disbelieving, unable to think clearly or rationally.

She spent the whole trip back to the docks going over and over what had happened, what she’d said—or thought—what he’d ‘communicated’. The entire incident was just plain bizarre. And she could think of no logical explanation for it, none at all.

It wasn’t until they hove to at the docks that Stevie realized that she was clutching her camera to her chest as if it was a life preserver. She had no idea how long she’d been holding it in such a fashion, but her arms and hands and fingers ached from the ferocity of her grasp.

She was still wearing her wet suit. She hadn’t even gone below to change. Still had her tanks on her back, her flippers on her feet.

If the captain had said one word to her after he’d chewed her out, she wasn’t aware of it.

Shaking herself from her stupor, Stevie went below to change into her street clothes, gathered her wet suit and swimming gear, and disembarked. The diving gear belonged to the captain of the boat, fortunately, so she didn’t have to worry about lugging the heavy tanks back to her rental car.

A tall, nondescript man in a black suit stepped into her path as she reached the main dock. Stevie wasn’t even aware of him until she came up against the ‘black wall’ of his chest. She fell back a step and looked up at him, her jaw at half cock.

“If I’d been a wise guy, you’d be dead right now, Ms. Reynolds.”

Recognition dawned. Anger surged forward to dispel her preoccupation. “And, if I’d drowned out there, I’d be dead. Or, if I’d gotten hit by a truck on the way here, I’d be dead—You aren’t, and I’m not, Parker. So, if you don’t mind, get the hell out of my way.”

His lips flattened. “You’re a government witness in a high profile case, Ms. Reynolds. Need I remind you that you’re supposed to be in protective custody?”

“NO! Really?” Stevie exclaimed sarcastically, then pushed past him.

He fell into step beside her. “I’m going to have to insist you come with me, Ms. Reynolds.”

“Insist all you want. It won’t do you any damned good.”

He grabbed her arm, pulling her to a halt. “What is it with you, anyway? Do you have a death wish or something? You know you’re a dead woman if we don’t keep you under wraps until the trial. Afterwards, when we’ve sent him away, it’ll be safe enough to return to your normal activities. But not now.”

Stevie glared at him. “Do you see stupid stamped on my forehead?”

He looked taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“Look, the frigging newspapers plastered my face all over the front pages from here to Antarctica! They might just as well have painted a damned bulls eye on my forehead while they were at it. The man’s a drug kingpin. He doesn’t get out on the damned streets and sell the stuff himself. He has hundreds, maybe thousands of people working for him. Do you honestly think it’s going to do me one bit of good if you lock him up? Or do you just think I’m stupid enough to believe it?”

“We offered you the witness protection program.”

“So, I just walk away from everything? New life, new career, no family, no friends? Give up everything in the world that means anything to me, all just so I can go and testify for you guys so you can get good reviews in the newspaper? Fuck you!”

“We can make you go to court and testify, you know.”

“Did I say I wouldn’t go? I never said I wouldn’t testify. If I’m still alive by then, I’ll be there with bells on.”

“I’m afraid that’s not good enough,” he said grimly, grasping her arm once more. “As I said before, I must insist that you come with me … for your own safety.”

Stevie was just contemplating knocking him cold with her camera case when a wet, smacking sound diverted both of them. Agent Parker stiffened. Feeling the hairs stand up on the back of her neck, Stevie slowly turned her head, expecting momentarily to feel the impact of a bullet through her skull.

What she saw, however, was so stunning she dropped her camera case and duffel bag from suddenly nerveless fingers. Perhaps two yards away from her, a man stood on the edge of the dock, dripping water, as naked as the day he was born. Stevie had never considered herself a prude, but the sheer volume of exposed flesh was enough to send her brain into catatonia for at least a half a dozen heart beats. It had just clicked in her brain that she’d never seen such an impressive male member in her life when she realized she had.

“She said she didn’t want to go.”

His voice drew Stevie’s gaze to his face at last … and still she stared at him blankly for several moments before recognition dawned.

Apparently Agent Parker was as stunned as she was, because he couldn’t seem to think of anything to say at all.

“Adonis?” Stevie said questioningly.

As she turned back to look at Agent Parker a hornet flew past her ear, leaving a trail of heat in it’s wake. Agent Parker let out a grunt, as if he’d been struck by a baseball bat in the solar plexus. As she stared at him in surprise, trying to figure out what had caused the hole in his shoulder, blood erupted from it like a fountain someone had just turned on. Confused, she leaned toward him, looking at it more closely, noting with some surprise that he had his gun halfway out of his shoulder holster. As she turned to look at the gun, another hornet whipped past her, this one just above the crown of her head.

She reached up, felt her hair, then glanced up at Parker to see what he thought of it. A perfectly round, blackened hole had appeared in Agent Parker’s forehead. She stared at it blankly, but finally her sluggish brain—click, click, clicking—added a sum that sent a spurt of adrenaline through her system. She grabbed for his gun just as something that felt like a pickup truck slammed into her, carrying her over the railing and off the edge of the dock. The gun she’d just grabbed was jarred from her fingers by the impact of the blow. Numbly, she watched as it skittered across the dock and came to rest against one of the posts. It seemed as if she fell forever. Then, her feet struck chilly water. It was almost as if the water reached up to consume her. Before she could do more than draw breath to scream, she was surrounded by it.

She swallowed a mouthful of water and choked. Coughing, she only managed to drag more water into her mouth. Panic clouded her mind. Reason fled. She struggled toward the surface. It was some moments before she realized something was holding her. She began clawing at it mindlessly, trying to reach the surface of the water.

All around her, hornets shot into the water, peppering the surface and penetrating well below.

Quite suddenly, she sucked in a lung full of air. She was wracked by coughs, however, for some time before she became aware of her surroundings once more, aware enough to realize that she had not surfaced. She was encased once more in a protective bubble.

No sooner had that dawned upon her than she looked around for Adonis. He was behind her, pushing the bubble that encased her toward the ocean bed.

“Where are we going?” she asked, to shaken to consider whether or not he could actually hear her.

Deeper.

“Why?”

The man was shot, but I do not think they meant to shoot him. I think they were trying to shoot you. Why?

She stared at him for several moments, digesting his observations, but, even though she had not consciously accepted it, she knew very well that she’d just escaped a hail of gunfire. “It’s a long story,” Stevie muttered.

You do not have time to tell?

Stevie sighed impatiently. “I don’t FEEL like telling it again! You have no idea how many times I’ve had to tell the story, over and over and over. They might as well have just come right out and called me a liar.”

You don’t have to tell me if you do not want to.

His words didn’t calm her so much as they reproached. Shame filled her. This was twice now that he’d helped her and all she’d done was snip at him as if it was his fault she was in trouble. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually so rude. Really! Thank you!”

You are welcome.

“It’s about drugs, OK? I found some while I was doing research, an underwater cache. I reported it. The drug dealer’s going to jail, and he wants me dead so I can’t testify and help send him to jail.”

Adonis stopped, treading water, frowning thoughtfully. You found it? You saw him put it there?

“I got a picture of the boat as they were leaving. The Feds traced it to him. I radioed the coast guard as soon as they were out of sight. They were waiting for him when he docked in Miami. My testimony and photo place him with the drugs less than an hour before he docked in Miami. Without me, all they have is the fact that he took his boat out for a cruise.”

She paused for several moments, not certain she even wanted to recount the worst of it. “He, or his men, at his orders, murdered the captain of the boat I’d chartered, because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time—because I asked him to take me to that spot—so that’s murder plus felony drug trafficking. You starting to get the picture?”

You can not blame yourself for the death of the man.

“Unfortunately, I can and do. He wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me.”

He ran the risk of some sort of accident, or even running into drug runners, every time he went out. You should not blame yourself when you could not have had any way of foreseeing what would happen.

“In a way, I know you’re right. I didn’t deliberately lead him to his death, but I can’t shake the guilt anyway. It’s something I’m going to have to get used to living with.”

What is protective custody?

The question effectively distracted her from her disturbing memories. “Like jail! I’m not supposed to be a prisoner, but in actuality I am, because I can’t go anywhere or do anything I usually do. I can’t even go home.”

So you ran away?

She shrugged. “Sort of.”

His brows rose.

“OK. Yes. I ran away. I got tired of being cooped up, waiting for some drug dealer to sneak up on me and blow me away, and I took off. I don’t see that I was any safer with them. Everybody knows there isn’t a law enforcement agency in the country that isn’t rife with corruption. Sooner or later, they would have paid somebody off and found me, and it wouldn’t make any difference how many agents were around.”

* * * *

“You think we got her?”

“No.”

“We could’ve though.”

“And we might not have. You really want to go tell Carlos we’re pretty sure we got the bitch?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

“They’ve been down there a long time. They must have drowned already.”

“What if they only swam under the fucking pier and surfaced? Did you think about that, stupid?”

“Don’t call me stupid.”

“Fine! You go tell Carlos you think they drowned.”

“What’re you going to tell him?”

“I’m going to tell him some weirdo came out of nowhere and played hero.”

“That was weird. You know something even weirder than that? He looked like he had a tail when he first climbed up on the dock. Did you see that?”

“You been snortin’ some of the product?”

“I ain’t got more than a little buzz.”

His buddy gave him a doubting look.

“No shit!”

“Right!”

“Really. But now you mention it, I could use a hit.”

“You really are stupid, you know that? You go back, flyin’ high, and tell the boss we missed and he’ll gut you like a fish.”

“What are we gonna do now, Pete?”

“Shut up! Don’t be using my name, man! You don’t know who might be listening.”

“Sorry. What’re we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna find a good spot and wait and see if our fish climbs back outta that water, that’s what.”

“How long are we gonna wait?”

“You got somewhere else you need to be?”

“Shit! I just asked. Do you have to be such a fucking asshole all the time?”

Chapter Four

“Be reasonable,” Stevie whispered. “Do you think I like this any more than you do?”

It was nearly sunrise. They’d spent hours huddling–or at least she had—in fear on the ocean bed. She was starving, cold, wet—but it wasn’t just the fact that she was miserable that had finally decided the matter. The plain truth was, she had no where to go. She doubted very much that she would be safe anywhere, but there was at least a degree of safety in returning to protective custody.

“You are in grave danger. I do not think you should return to those men.”

“Where else am I going to go?” Stevie said impatiently.

Adonis frowned. “I can not go home.”

“Exactly. You’re in pretty much the same boat as I am. Anyway, I don’t want to go home with you, where ever that is.”

Adonis cocked his head curiously. “We are not in a boat. We are under the pier.”

“It’s a figure of speech. You said you understood English.”

“But it does not make sense! We are not in a boat.”

“Do you always have to argue about everything?”

Adonis looked affronted. “I am not the one who is unreasonable.”

Stevie let out an exasperated sigh. “Right. Look, I’m going now. The Feds are all over the place. There won’t be a better time for me to come out of hiding. Those thugs wouldn’t dare try anything with the Feds all over the place … I hope.” She firmly closed her mind to the fact that they’d shot a Fed right in front of her. “I imagine they’re long gone by now—probably took off the minute the police arrived.”

Without waiting for further comment, or argument, from Adonis, Stevie dove off the brace they’d been sitting on and swam out from under the pier. “Hey! Help! I’m over here!”

She heard the thunder of feet on the planks above her and moments later a half a dozen faces were peering down at her. As a flotation donut was tossed to her, she glanced back to where she’d been sitting with Adonis for the past half hour and saw with little surprise that he’d vanished.

She was beginning to think he was like the giant rabbit in that old Jimmy Stewart classic, invisible to everyone but her, a figment of her imagination that only appeared when she needed rescuing.

Something had happened to her down below. She wasn’t certain what it was, but she was beginning to suspect that it had sent her off the deep end.

She wondered if it would be obvious to everyone that she’d lost her mind.

Maybe if she just kept her mouth shut and didn’t tell them about the merman named Adonis they wouldn’t lock her away in a padded cell?

She was greeted with a barrage of questions the moment they hauled her up onto the pier. Thankfully, the head man put an immediate halt to it. “We can debrief her later. Right now, we need to get her somewhere safe.”

The Feds surrounded her, hustling her toward a dark vehicle. She was shoved inside, an agent took a seat on either side of her and the car took off with a squeal of tires.

She glanced back over her shoulder as the car careened out of the port area, wondering if she would ever see Adonis again. It was almost sad to think she wouldn’t. He was actually pretty amazing now that she thought on it; charming, intelligent, protective, downright chivalrous … who would ever have thought it possible for a man to be such a hunk and STILL be all those wonderful things … besides being straight?

He must have flaws she hadn’t noticed.

Or, just maybe, she really was out of her mind and had imagined the whole thing?

* * * *

They took her to yet another safe house, this one far out in the boondocks. She rather thought she would have preferred the one they’d used previously, which had at least been within the city, close to restaurants and other modern conveniences. To be stuck in the middle of nowhere, at the mercy of her own almost non-existent cooking skills, and those of the four agents left to watch her, was cruel and unusual punishment in her book.

But she couldn’t fault their logic. To their mind, there was a better than even possibility that whoever had managed to attach themselves to her and follow her to the docks was probably still in the vicinity, waiting and watching. If they’d taken her back to the previous safe house, they might have led the hit man, or men, right to it. The safe house they’d chosen was so far off the beaten track that they’d been able to drive round and round for hours until they’d eliminated any possibility of being followed.

She’d been allowed to eat and rest before they began questioning her, an unexpected courtesy. It had been no holds barred, however, when she’d gotten up the following morning, having slept for nearly ten hours straight.

They had not been completely satisfied with her answers, not surprising since she had very carefully omitted any mention of Adonis. By eliminating mention of Adonis, she found she had some pretty big holes in her story and not enough imagination to fill them, so she wasn’t really surprised that they continued to question her suspiciously, on and on until she finally balked and refused to say another word.

Finally, notably dissatisfied, most of the agents had filed out and departed, leaving only four agents, two inside, two outside, rotating shifts.

For almost a full day, all was quiet, to the point where Stevie began to wonder if she would be bored into a blithering lunatic before it was all over with. Gunter, the agent in charge, arrived near dusk, however, demanding to know why Stevie’s fingerprints had been found on the dead agent’s gun.

Stevie gaped at him for several moments before fury rushed through her. “Because I grabbed it when I was trying to defend myself?” she asked sweetly.

“A point which you seemed to have left out of your original statement,” Gunter said grimly.

“Look, asshole! Unless you found that Parker was shot with his own gun—which I know damned well he wasn’t because I was standing right in front of him when the bullet smacked him in the forehead—then what I did or didn’t forget to tell you about has got nothing to do with anything!”

“It pertains to your credibility,” Gunter said tightly.

Stevie gasped, outraged. “How DARE you question my credibility, you snake! You people have your gall! First, you screw everything up with your total incompetence, endangering my life, all because I was stupid enough to do what I thought was right … THEN you lie to me and tell me everything is going to be just fine, just as soon as I testify against the guy … BEFORE you got around to mentioning that the only way I MIGHT have a possibility of seeing old age is to disappear and start a new life … and now you have the nerve to question my credibility? You know what? You can take your questions and shove them up your ass! I’m leaving!”

A grim smile curled his lips. “If you leave protective custody again, I can’t vouch for your safety.”

“AS IF you can vouch for it now! I didn’t get shot at until that dumbass, Parker showed up. You know what I think? I think that dumbass led them to me! Nobody knew where I was. I didn’t contact a soul, and if I accept your word for it that you tucked me away in that safe house without detection, then the only way they could’ve known I’d be there is if they followed the agent that tracked me down!”

“Or maybe they figured you’d be stupid enough to go right back to what you were doing before?”

She honestly hadn’t thought of that, even though they’d warned her about doing anything she’d habitually done before. But she’d been careful. She hadn’t gone to the port she generally used. She hadn’t even taken her own car. She’d rented one and then driven all the way down to the next port. She could not believe, regardless of what he’d said, that she’d been followed. If she had been, why not shoot her then? They would’ve had plenty of opportunities for it. “Maybe. But on the other hand, if they followed me, or even if they had somebody posted at every single port to watch for me, why is it that I didn’t get shot at until I met up with Parker?”
Gunter frowned. “Maybe they didn’t get the chance before. Maybe they weren’t sure it was you until the agent approached you.”

“I was wandering around the docks for over an hour looking for a charter. And it was broad daylight, which would have made it a hell of a lot easier to identify me than waiting until I got back, because it was nearly dark then.”

“So you’d just met up with Agent Parker when he was shot?”

Stevie’s lips tightened. “I told you that about sixty times yesterday. We were arguing. Then I heard something behind me and turned around to look and I heard Parker make a funny noise, like he’d been punched. When I turned back around to look at him a bullet whizzed past my head and caught him in the forehead. I guess he realized there was a problem before I did, because he was already pulling his gun. I grabbed it when it started to fall, but then dropped it and jumped off the pier when I realized I was right out in the open and there was no place to take cover. Satisfied?”

He didn’t look like he was. He opened his mouth as if to say something but apparently changed his mind.

Stevie stood glaring at him for several moments, tempted to demand to be taken home--her home--and end the charade right then and there. After a moment, however, she turned on her heel, stalked into the room that had been designated as her bedroom and slammed the door behind her, locking it with enough force that she was certain they heard it.

For several moments afterward, she simply stood with her back against the door, trying to decide what she wanted to do. The inactivity, the tension of wondering when someone would attempt to take her life next, were wearing her down. The happiest times of her life had been spent near, or in, the sea. She hated being barred from it. Under other circumstances, weeks might go by without a trip, perhaps even months, but she always knew she could go if she wanted to, or felt she needed to. Knowing she couldn’t, no matter how badly she might want to, was one of the worst things about her situation.

The worst, naturally, was knowing she might catch a bullet any minute, but she thought she could’ve endured the threat easier if she’d at least been able to look forward to a break in the tension now and then.

A faint noise at one of the windows drew her attention, and Stevie’s heart skipped a beat.

The agents, all of them as far as she knew, were in the main room of the cabin at the moment, having a powwow with chief dickhead.

Maybe she’d imagined it?

She heard it again, a little louder this time.

She stood away from the door, undecided. Should she scream for help? But, what if it was only a tree branch, scraping against the outside of the window? Wouldn’t she look like a fool then, particularly in light of the fact that she’d just informed the whole lot of them that they were useless and she didn’t need them?

Was saving face worth dying over?

Shaking off her fear, she looked around the room. It was pretty much bare basics … contained nothing that would make much of a weapon once you excluded the furniture, which she wasn’t capable of throwing. Finally, she tiptoed over to the table beside the bed and hefted the hard bound book that had been left there, she supposed, for her comfort … the bible. It wasn’t very heavy. She would’ve preferred something like Webster’s unabridged dictionary. Since it was the only object in the room that even came close to being useful as a weapon, however, she hefted if and moved to the window.

Heavy wooden shutters covered the inside window. She leaned over, took a sustaining breath and cautiously stuck her eye to the small space between them that had been cut out to form a hand hold. Since it was nearing dusk, it was almost as dark outside as it was in the room and it took several moments for her vision to adjust. When it did, she discovered she was looking at an eyeball that was looking back.

Her knees turned to jelly. Her whole body went weak as water. The book fell from her hands.

It is I, Adonis.

Relief, just as knee weakening flooded through her. With an effort, Stevie opened the shutters. “Asshole!” she whispered furiously. “You scared the living hell out of me! What are you doing here? Are you completely crazy?”

He looked more than a little disconcerted at his reception. “I thought you might like company,” he whispered back.

“Shhh! They’ll hear you!”

As if on cue, she heard footsteps. The door rattled. “Ms. Reynolds. Are you all right?”

“Fine! I … uh … I just dropped something. I was muttering to myself. Everything’s fine.” She held her breath, waiting for the footsteps to retreat again. After a significant pause, they did. She turned to Adonis.

“You should go. They’ll arrest you if they catch you here … good God! You’re not wearing a stitch of clothing! You can’t go running around like that! They’ll lock you up in the loony bin and throw away the key!”

“I do not see why.”

Stevie opened her mouth but closed it again. “This is no time to start arguing. Go! They’ll be outside checking the perimeter any minute.”

He looked so downcast Stevie felt a spurt of sympathy. He’d told her he was lonely, that he hadn’t even seen a human face in months—It wasn’t that she believed everything he’d told her, but it was obviously true that he was lonely. Otherwise, he surely would not have been willing to put up with her sharp tongue. “Look. I’m sorry. I’d invite you in if I could—I could use some company myself. But as you can see there are bars on all the windows….”

She completely forgot the train of her thoughts. Smiling at her half-hearted invitation, Adonis grasped a bar in each hand and pried them apart. She shuffled backward several steps, tripping over the edge of an area rug and landing on her butt as he climbed through. Turning, he grasped the bars again and straightened them.

He turned to survey the room as one who’d received a warm welcome. “This is nice.”

“Shhh!” Stevie responded automatically, her mind in complete turmoil as she watched him stride about the room, examining everything with patent interest.

After a moment, she got up and moved to the small portable TV that had been set up for her entertainment on the dresser…. Not that the reception was anything to brag about this far from civilization, but the noise, she hoped, would at least help to mask Adonis’ chatter.

“How did you do that?” she demanded in a loud whisper.

“What?”

“The bars.”

He glanced back at the window. “It was not difficult. What are they for?”

Stevie rolled her eyes. “To keep people from coming in.”

“Oh. They are not much good for that, are they?”

“Apparently not,” Stevie said dryly, moving to the window and testing the bars herself. Despite the fact that they’d been bent once already, she couldn’t so much as budge them. Reasonably satisfied that at least no one else could pry them apart and climb in, Stevie closed the shutters once more.

Adonis, she saw, was still exploring. Still feeling more than a little weak in the knees, Stevie finally moved to the bed and sat. Adonis looked surprised, then pleased when he noticed she was watching him from the bed. He strode toward her, grasped her shoulders and pushed her back on the bed, following her down. Stevie gasped in stunned surprise as his mouth came down over hers.

His mouth felt absolutely wonderful, however, as it moved over hers in a kiss that turned her bones to pure water. When he broke the kiss at last, Stevie was too weak even to move. She gazed up at him through half closed eyes, feeling a rush of response run through her at the desire she saw in his eyes.

“Will you make love with me now?” he murmured.

Stevie stared at him a long moment, but the truth was she had been far from immune to the man even before he kissed her. The kiss had been more than sufficient to convince her to throw caution to the four winds. “What the hell? Let’s just call it a mercy fuck, shall we?” she whispered, reaching for him and pulling him down to her.

He looked surprised, and none too happy about her choice of words, but Stevie was way beyond caring. His mouth on hers had felt like a drug, an aphrodisiac to be precise. She had become warm and liquid the moment he’d touched her and the feel of his mouth and tongue on hers now only heightened the sensations thrumming through her veins.

Impatient to feel him inside of her, she pushed on his shoulders. As he rolled away, she followed him. Straddling him, she broke the kiss long enough to strip her blouse and bra away, tossed them aside and leaned forward once more, nibbling a trail of kisses over to one ear. He groaned as she traced the swirls of his ear with her tongue. Grasping her arms, he flipped her onto her back, moving over her, planting his mouth firmly on one breast and suckling until Stevie was writhing mindlessly beneath him, groaning as if she was dying.

He rolled off of her, grasped the fastener of her jeans and tugged. Stevie helped him with the unfamiliar opening, separating the snap and tugging the zipper down. He grasped her Jeans then and peeled Jeans and panties down her hips at once, then tugged them from her ankles and tossed them aside.

She reached for him again, but he resisted, studying her for several long heartbeats before he covered her body with his own, kissing her into mindless oblivion before moving down over her body and caressing the breast he’d neglected before, teasing her nipple until it throbbed with sensation and the walls of her sex quaked with delight, excitement, anticipation.

Her body wept for his possession, had climbed to that point where she knew she was teetering on the brink of culmination.

“Do you have a condom?” she whispered huskily.

“A what?”

“A condom? Safe sex?”

He looked confused.

“You’re supposed to wear it over your cock.”

“Why?”

“Never mind.” Obviously safe sex wasn’t an issue where ever he hailed from. It was an intoxicating and liberating thought.

She pushed against his shoulders again, guiding him wordlessly onto his back so that she could straddle him. She had always preferred the control being on top gave her, where she could rotate her hips so that the cock rubbed her in just the right place, with just the right amount of pressure.

As she settled herself, however, taking his cock in her hand, doubt shook her. “I know this’ll sound as if I’m trying the ‘I’m so tiny and you’re so huge’ line, but I’m not sure this is going to work. It’d just be way too embarrassing if I had to go to the hospital afterwards and explain.”

He flipped her onto her back and settled between her legs. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he said quietly, pressing the head of his cock against her body’s opening. Uneasiness had sucked away the juices that had been there only moments before, however, and it was with some difficulty that he managed penetration at all.

He leaned toward her, lowering his mouth to hers, brushing his lips gently back and forth across her lips. “Trust me, my love. I would sooner cut the heart from my chest than cause you any pain.”

Stevie had no idea whether she trusted him or not, but the brush of his lips sent a tingle of pleasure through her, his scent, his taste as he thrust his tongue into her mouth to caress hers, brought a flood of moisture into her sex, easing his way.

She moaned, instinctively arching her hips and pushing upward to accept him as he sank slowly inside of her, their bodies joining delightfully. She jerked reflexively, however, when she felt the head of his cock bump against her sensitive womb, wincing as a tiny pain lanced through her, her stomach muscles cramping. He stopped immediately, hesitated for a long moment, and began to pull away.

Thinking he meant to pull away completely, she grasped his forearms, opening her eyes to look up at him. He was watching her, she saw, noting every reaction. She smiled, moving her hands from his arms to his back, sliding them down until she grasped his buttocks, then urging him to fill her once more.

The second stroke was far more pleasurable, smooth, filling her completely, deeply, but sending nothing but exquisite pleasure throughout her body. A moan of excitement escaped her and she lifted to meet his thrust, tilting her hips so that she could feel his cock rubbing against her g-spot. Like the twang of a guitar string, it vibrated, sending shock waves of exquisite pleasure through her.

Feeling imminent release, she urged him to move faster, setting the rhythm, the depth, the angle herself, so that each hard thrust had her body quaking, hovering at the verge of release.

When it caught her, he smothered her cries of ecstasy with his own mouth, pumping his cock into her fast and hard until his body went tense all over with his own release.

He lay still for many moments afterward, gathering his strength and finally pushed himself up on his elbows, gasping for air. After a few moments, he moved off of her, collapsing on the bed beside her. Stevie was virtually comatose, barely conscious, feeling more pleasantly relaxed than she had in forever as her heart finally slowed to a more normal rhythm. She was on the verge of drifting off to sleep when he spoke.

“I wanted to do that the first time I saw you,” he murmured, reaching over to brush a lock of hair from her cheek.

It took several moments for Stevie’s sluggish brain to kick into gear. She opened her eyes with an effort, glanced over at him. He had lain back against the bed, she saw, and was staring up at the ceiling musingly, a faint smile curling his lips. “At the wreck?” she managed finally.

He rolled onto his side, propping his head up so that he was gazing down at her, still smiling faintly, as if he was very pleased with himself. “That was not the first time I saw you.”

Stevie blinked, wondering if she’d heard him correctly. “It wasn’t?”

“No. It was….” He broke off, frowning thoughtfully. “I think two and a half moon cycles ago.”

“Moons? You mean months?” Stevie asked, coming up on her side to face him, suddenly wide awake.

Adonis nodded.

Stevie frowned. “But that would’ve been…. You were there! When I found the cache?”

He shrugged. “Not when you found it. Afterwards. I sensed that you were in distress and came. When I had chased the evil ones away and returned, you were gone. I sought you with my mind, but you had closed it to me.”

Stevie sat up on the bed, shaking her head. “It was a shark. A huge shark. It kept ramming their boat.”

Again, he shrugged. “I can not show myself. It is forbidden. I had to shift into the body of a shark and frighten them away. It is without honor, I know, for a warrior to use such subterfuge. I would have preferred to challenge them to honest battle, but I must do as our laws decree. They are for the good of all.”

Stevie held up her hand. “Wait. I can’t take all this in. You expect me to believe that you made yourself look like a shark….”

Adonis frowned, obviously torn. “You have seen me shift. Do you still not believe what your eyes and your mind tell you? Do you still think I am nothing but a hallucination?”

That effectively silenced her for a good two minutes. “Adonis, what are … where are you from? Are you … an alien species? Is that why you’re so different?”

“We do not know from whence we came … whether we sprang from Mother Earth’s bosom, or another world. It is buried in time. We only know that we are. But we are the same as you.”

“Uh … not quite. We don’t change at will into other things. We don’t read minds. We can’t live underwater. We can’t … bend steel bars like they’re drinking straws….” She stopped abruptly. “You said we? There’s a ‘we’? There are others?”

“It is forbidden to talk of it to outworlders.”

Stevie simply stared at him in disbelief for several moments, then her lips tightened in irritation. “What have you been doing for the past ten minutes? And, now you mention it, you said you were forbidden to show yourself to others. But you’ve let me see you. You showed me you could change. Why am I different?”

Adonis looked more than a little uncomfortable. “I knew when I felt the pull of your mind that I had found the one I sought and thought never to find. I had hoped that I would have time to woo you before….”

Stevie stared at him blankly. “What? Time to do what?”

A faint blush crawled up his neck and into his cheeks. “To win your heart?” he said a little doubtfully, as if he was unsure of the words he was looking for.

It was a struggle to hide her amusement. She didn’t succeed very well. Adonis stood abruptly, looking more than a little insulted. Stevie grasped his hand. “No! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way you took it. It’s just … Well, it’s sweet—what you said—terribly sweet, but very old fashioned. People used to talk like that, I’ve heard, in the olden days, but nobody does any more. Which is unfortunate, really. Because it’s much more romantic than ‘Hey, bitch! Wanna share my crib?’.”

He turned away from her. Stevie stared at his stiff back for several moments and finally got up and moved around him so that he had to look at her…. And still he refused, glaring at the wall over her head. She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. “Hey. Would you look at me?”

He glanced down at her, his expression unreadable.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m … just not used to your speech patterns. They sound a little strange to me, OK?”

“I speak as you do,” he said stiffly.

In spite of all she could do, a smile tugged at her lips.

He turned away, stalked toward the window.

She giggled, chased him down and grasped his arm. “Don’t be such a baby!”

He sent her a glare over his shoulder.

She moved between him and the window. “Don’t go … please?”

He glared angrily at her for several moments and then the anger seemed to drain from him. He sighed. “I am not good at this at all. I do not understand it. I have always been very articulate … except now, when I have need of it.”

“Good at what?”

He folded his lips, gave her a look of suspicion. “I will not say it again if you are only going to laugh.”

She bit her lip, trying to hide a smile, then, when she saw he’d noticed, pressed herself against him, kissing his chest. “If you’ll come back to bed, I’ll show you how sorry I am,” she murmured.

She saw, when she looked up at him that he was torn. Sliding a hand behind his neck, she tugged, coming up on her tiptoes to place her lips against his. “I really am sorry,” she murmured.

He still looked unhappy. “You wish to mercy fuck again?”

She nibbled her way down his throat, pushing against him until he began to move backwards. “Let’s call this ‘I’m deeply… deeply … deeply sorry,” she said, emphasizing each word with another kiss, moving until he fell backwards on the bed. She showed him then how very, very sorry she was.

She was almost too weak to move off of him when she climaxed. Collapsing limply back on the bed once more, she was nine tenths asleep even before the bed stopped bouncing.

“You have to go,” she mumbled sleepily.

“You will not allow me to stay?”

“That’d be nice, yes, but they’ll arrest you if they find you here and, believe me, they’re a really unpleasant bunch.”

“It matters not to me.”

“It matters to me, sweety,” she murmured, reaching over to pat him affectionately. “I don’t want you to get locked up on my account. Anyway, I’m used to sleeping alone. I sleep better that way,” she added, yawning hugely and giving him a little nudge toward the edge of the bed.

He sat up, studied her a long moment and finally rose, moving to the window.

“Be sure you straighten the bars behind you,” she reminded him. “And watch out for the bad old Feds when you leave. They patrol the grounds like bloodhounds.”

Chapter Five

As he plunked her ruined camera on the coffee table in the main living area there was a half smile on Agent Gunter’s face that told Stevie he hated her as much as she hated him. Stevie stared at the expensive piece of equipment, feeling shock slowly give way to fury.

“What happened to my camera?”

The agent shrugged. “We found it where you apparently dropped it. I assumed it was yours and you’d want it back, but we had to send it through forensics first.”

“Forensics? What the hell did they use to study it? A damned wrecking ball?”

Again, he shrugged offhandedly. “As far as I know it was in that condition when it was found.”

It took an effort to resist the urge to sock him in the nose, for smirking about it if nothing else. Stevie picked the camera up at last, studying it, wondering if there was any possibility that it could be fixed. Not for one moment did she believe the jerk. It had been in it’s case. She’d dropped it. She remembered that much, but the case would have protected it from this much damage unless it was run over by a car. Her concern for the camera vanished, however, when she made her next discovery.

“What happened to the film? There was film in it.”

“Not when we found it. I assumed it had been unloaded earlier. Or not loaded at all. In any case, it didn’t have any film in it. We checked … just in case it had anything of value on it.”

It had had something of value on it all right. It had had pictures of Adonis…. And if the Feds hadn’t confiscated the film, then there seemed a very good chance that the hit man--for what ever reason--had decided to take it.

She was more inclined to think Gunter was lying to her, but decided that was probably because the man rubbed her the wrong way and she’d disliked him on sight. She couldn’t imagine, however mutual his dislike, that he would have smashed her camera up like this, though. And, if he hadn’t smashed the camera, then he probably hadn’t gotten the film.

It looked like someone had taken their frustration out on it, which seemed to support the probability that it was the man who’d tried to shoot her. Surely, had anyone else found it, they would have simply taken it and hocked it for whatever money they could get, not destroyed it.

But, maybe, in the course of beating it to pieces, the film had simply fallen out? Maybe it was still laying on the docks? Or had rolled into the sea?

Somehow, she couldn’t comfort herself with that. She felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She had not, at any point, actually considered exposing Adonis, certainly not once she’d had time to consider the magnitude of the problems it would cause him. She’d had some vague idea that the pictures might be worth something, and she certainly hadn’t been willing to simply give up something that belonged to her without a struggle, but she would not have repaid Adonis’ kindness to her by exposing him to the media’s tender mercies.

Intentional or not, she might well have done so, however.

If whoever had taken the film had it developed….

“This is bad. This is very, very bad,” she muttered, so caught up in her distress she didn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until Gunter responded.

“There was something on the film?” Agent Gunter asked sharply.

Stevie gaped at him. She’d forgotten all about him. “What?”

“You said ‘this is bad, very, very bad’.”

“I did?” she said evasively.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “There was something on that film, wasn’t there?”

“Nothing you’d be interested in,” Stevie said tightly, realizing finally why it was that she had despised the man on sight. He had treated her, from the very first, as if she was a criminal, not a law abiding citizen doing her civic duty. She had to wonder why. It was possible, of course, that he was just that anal, that everybody was the enemy as far as he was concerned, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he had a more personal reason for his dislike.

“I’ll decide what I’m interested in.”

Stevie’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve been a hostile bastard ever since I came to you people about this. I have to wonder why. It wouldn’t happen to be because you’re on Carlos’ payroll would it? I mean, that might explain why it is that you’ve had to move me three times already. Obviously, somebody is tipping them off about my whereabouts.”

Gunter’s face turned nearly purple. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, but whatever it was no one was ever to know. A hole sprouted right in the middle of his forehead. Stevie gaped at it, too stunned to move.

Someone knocked her to the floor. “The bedroom. Get in the bedroom! Now!”

Stevie nodded and crawled, cringing every time a gun blasted, screaming each time something exploded around her with the impact of a bullet. The couch erupted into a snowfall of shredded stuffing and fabric as she crawled past it, a spray of bullets from an automatic weapon urging her to move faster. She didn’t know how she made it into the bedroom without so much as a scratch, but somehow she managed. She slammed the door behind her and began shoving furniture against it.

When she turned around at last, breathless, looking for something else to pile in front of the door, a man was standing behind her. She screamed.

“It is not safe for you here.”

“Adonis? How…?”

He shook his head, held out his arms. Stevie flew into them trustingly. Holding her tightly against him, he turned and stared at the back wall of the room, obviously concentrating very hard. The wall shook and exploded outward, leaving a hole large enough for a man to pass through. Stevie gaped at it in stunned amazement, but in the next moment squeezed her eyes shut as he gripped her tightly and launched them toward the opening. To her surprise, they cleared it. Opening her eyes, she found that she was still air born, not falling, rising. Her stomach lurched, dropped away, following the rapidly diminishing ground below. Her arms tightened around Adonis instinctively.

Too shocked to assimilate what was happening, Stevie glanced around them, down at the shrinking cabin, and finally up at Adonis’ face. Behind his head she saw a pair of great wings. The thought, angel, solidified in her mind about two seconds before her brain shut down and she knew nothing more.

* * * *

Stevie awoke shivering. Disoriented, her thoughts sorted themselves sluggishly, her senses kicking in first in an effort to determine where she was. It was dark, she saw when she opened her eyes a crack, but she could see stars overhead and wispy clouds.

She was outside then, near the ocean, for she could smell it’s distinct scent in the gusts of wind whipping around her.

She was just about as far south as one could get, however, and still be in the U.S., and it was summer. She shouldn’t be cold, even if it was night time. In fact, she didn’t feel cold.

She realized finally that she wasn’t shivering. She was against something that was shaking.

Her head hurt, but it was more in the nature of a hangover than an injury. Groaning slightly, she stirred, trying to sit up.

“You are better now?”

Everything flooded back the moment she heard his voice. Stevie sat up abruptly, turning in Adonis’ arms to look at him. To her relief, she saw no sign of wings. “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

Oddly enough, considering it was Adonis, she saw that he was fully clothed for once … sort of. He seemed to be wearing something like a toga. She supposed that was one of the things that had added to the illusion she’d had before that he was an angel, wings, flowing white robes….

He looked uncomfortable. “You scared the hell out of me.”

The comment was so unlike anything he’d ever said before that Stevie was taken aback, until she remembered those were almost her exact words when Adonis had startled her the first time he’d come to her window at the safe house. She was touched by his concern, until she remembered. “I scared you!” she echoed indignantly. “You very nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“I thought you had been injured. You were unconscious. It seemed an overlong time.”

“Fainted? I fainted? I’ve never…. Where are we?” she asked suddenly, diverted from that curious circumstance by more immediate concerns, looking around at last. An open area surrounded them, though she saw that Adonis was leaning against what appeared to be a short wall. There was very little light beyond what the heavens yielded, which was only enough to illuminate shadowy shapes here and there that looked like short pipes, something blockish in shape that might be an air conditioning unit.

“On top of a tall building. I did not know where to take you to be safe.”

“No wonder it’s so windy,” Stevie muttered. “I didn’t imagine what I thought I imagined then?”

He cocked his head curiously. “I do not know. What do you think you imagined?”

Stevie felt a quaking inside of her, wondering if she even wanted to know. “Are you … are you an angel?”

He stared at her blankly for several moments before a faint smile curled his lips. “I did not think people still believed in myths.”

“Myths?”

“The ancient religions.”

“You’re not … I’m not … dead, then?”

She could tell from the look on his face that that comment amused him even more. She felt a stirring of indignation, wondering just what there was about her fear that he considered funny.

“You assume then that you will see angels when death comes for you?”

Stevie glared at him, until it occurred to her what he meant. A smile tugged at her lips. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. No. I guess not.”

He pulled her to him and gave her an affectionate squeeze. “I was making a joke. You are a good human being. I should not joke about such things.”

Stevie shrugged. “I’m not offended. I’m human. What did you mean about the old religions?”

“When man was ignorant of his world….”

“Innocent.”

He lifted a brow. “This word means the same?”

“Close enough, but kinder.”

He grinned. “Innocent--he made up stories for those things he didn’t understand that frightened him so that they seemed less frightening.”

“So you’re saying the legend of angels comes from your ancestors?”

Adonis looked away uncomfortably. “Perhaps. Perhaps not. It might as easily have come from a giant bird that lived long ago.”

“But it might have been your ancestors? Meaning, your people have been on Earth at least that long,” she murmured thoughtfully. “I still find it hard to accept that you can … just change your body at will.”

“It is rapid tissue regeneration on a cellular level and the ability to manipulate our cellular structure. It is why we were thought, long ago, to be immortal … why we are human, but not mortal, as you are.”

“So it was your ancestors,” Stevie murmured, realizing almost immediately that that was one very good reason for the Atalanteans to hide themselves away. Religious fanatics would die trying to wipe them out before they’d admit any possibility that their sacred beliefs were based on not so scared beings.

Adonis was silent for so long that Stevie looked up at him, studying his troubled face. “What is it?”

“It was not my ancestors.”

Stevie stared at him. “But … I thought you said….”

He shook his head.

Stevie moved a little away from him, turning to face him. “Tell me. Explain it so I understand.”

He smiled wryly, shrugged. “Young people are … reckless, rebellious, thoughtless. They are often inclined to defy their parents, to do just the opposite of what they are told. We were young then. It seemed an amusing game.”

“That makes your youth the same as ours,” Stevie said, smiling faintly.

“There is no yours and mine,” Adonis said harshly. “We are the same.”

“Genetically speaking?”

He considered for several moments before he spoke again. “The races you know … they all developed their civilizations apace with one another?”

“No. I suppose they all had their rises and declines, but children in the same family don’t even develop at the same rate … so, no. Some were still tribal and using primitive weapons when others had advanced to far more sophisticated weaponry. But I don’t see how.… You’re saying your race advanced the fastest? But, that’s not possible. We would have heard of such a thing!”

“You have. It was recorded in ancient history.”

Stevie stared at him a long moment, but the thoughts running through her head were just too fantastic to accept.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Stevie asked cautiously.

“Why is it unacceptable?”

“Why don’t you tell me and then I’ll decide whether I can accept it or not?”

“I am a citizen of Atalantium.”

“The lost continent?”

He smiled faintly. “We did not lose it. We … moved it.”

Chapter Six

Stevie fell into deep thought, though the chaos of her mind might not be construed as actual thought processing if anyone were able to observe it. One thing did keep replaying itself in her mind, however. If she could accept the possibility that Adonis was from an alien race, why was it so hard to accept that he was part of the human race?

Because he wasn’t like anyone else?

Really, there were some fairly big differences between some of the races, but, when all was said and done, not such a gap as Adonis represented.

“We are genetically enhanced,” Adonis supplied helpfully.

“Genetically,” Stevie said faintly. “You experiment with genetics … on yourselves?”

He shrugged. “Long ago. It is forbidden now.”

“Because?”

“I am not a scientist. I do not know why … except that they became afraid of the power. They came to realize that they might create a race of beings capable of destroying the Earth and all who lived here. For, regardless of their powers, they were still human, subject to human failings.”

Stevie looked at him questioningly.

“They had in mind to create a super race. They enhanced the abilities natural to our race until we are as I am, much the same, much the same abilities … basically equal, however, in strength. They had created others far stronger, with unimaginable powers, but these could not control their powers … and the nature of others was such that the powers given to them made them dangerous. All were destroyed, save one, and thereafter experimentation forbidden.”

“One was not … destroyed?”

“Thor.”

“Thor? And you are Adonis … It isn’t a coincidence, is it? What you said before—We were young. You weren’t talking about your race, were you? You were talking about yourself.”

He looked for several moments as if he would pretend he had misunderstood, but finally shrugged. “No. It is not coincidence.”

Stevie stared at him. “You couldn’t be THAT old … could you?”

Adonis reddened. “No.”

“Well, then it just doesn’t make any sense, damn it!”

“We are time walkers.”

“Time…,” Stevie said faintly. “My head hurts.”

A look of concern crossed his features. He lifted a hand, as if he would check her for fever, or injury, but Stevie shied away from him without thinking how it might appear to him. He allowed his hand to drop to his lap. Even in the dim light Stevie could see the flush that mounted his cheeks. She wasn’t certain whether it was from anger or discomfort, but she was of no mind at the moment to worry overmuch about it either way.

It occurred to her quite suddenly that she might have felt more comfortable with the idea that Adonis was from some alien race because it seemed less threatening to imagine some distant race of beings like him than someone next door.

She felt no more kinship toward him than she might an alien.

She wondered then if he’d looked upon sex with her as a kinky sort of bestiality. Like a human doing it with a lower animal.

“How could you think that!” he exclaimed angrily.
“Right. I forgot. You read minds,” Stevie said tightly.

“Telepathy.”

“I don’t give a damn what you call it! I have a right to privacy, at least for my frigging thoughts, so just stay the hell out of my head unless I invite you in!”

“You are upset.”

“You are so fucking observant!”

“I do not understand your anger. You asked me to explain. I did.”

Stevie glared at him, but her anger disappeared as quickly as it had come, leaving her feeling deflated, desolate. “I don’t either … except … I should have known it was just too damned good to be true.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Stevie said quickly, guarding her thoughts with an effort. She retreated into silence after that, refusing to allow him to engage her in conversation. After a couple of tries, he desisted. Rising, he began to pace the length of the roof.

Stevie remained where she was, her back pressed against the half wall that ran the circumference of the building. She would have liked, very much, to give in to her distress and try to sort through it. She didn’t dare. Despite the fact that she’d ordered him out of her mind, she didn’t trust that he could, or would, desist in picking her brain. Maybe he couldn’t help but ‘hear’ her thoughts, but it didn’t matter whether he was doing it on purpose or not. She resented sharing thoughts without the option of keeping them to herself.

After a while, she recalled the conversation she’d had with Agent Gunter just before he was shot. It wasn’t really surprising that it had slipped her mind under the circumstances, but it was something of urgency that shouldn’t have.

She did not want to tell Adonis what she’d done. Guilt swamped her. He’d told her he’d been banished for breaking one of the laws. He hadn’t had to tell her how desperately he wanted to go home. She could tell just from being around him that he was lonely and unhappy. Unlike her, Adonis was clearly a social creature. She might very happily retreat from the human race for weeks or even months at the time. She didn’t even think a prolonged period of ‘being banished’ would create too much hardship for her. It was all too obvious, however, that the Atalanteans could not have thought of a more painful punishment for Adonis.

And, because of her determination to have those damned pictures, he was liable to be banished for yet another year.

She watched him pace for several moments, trying to decide how to tell him what had happened. She really, really hated having to break the news to him.

Finally, she sighed. Putting it off certainly wasn’t going to help matters.

“Adonis?”

He stopped immediately, turning to her with just enough hope in his expression that she felt even worse.

“I’ve got something to tell you.”

He strode toward her and sat down next to her. “What?”

“Bad news.”

“Oh. What sort of bad news?”

“You remember the pictures I took of you?”

* * * *

“Before we panic, I think we ought to look to see if the roll of film just fell out of the camera. It’s possible. If it did, it might still be on the dock, or in the water.”

Adonis studied her with interest. “We?”

“Of course, ‘we’. It’s my fault! I have to help you get it back. I’ll never forgive myself if you get in trouble because of me.”

“You are not responsible for all that happens,” Adonis said gently.

“I’m responsible for the things that happen because of something I did.”

“Sometimes, perhaps. But you carry far more guilt than is yours to bear.”

Stevie shrugged. “I can’t help feeling responsible for everything that happens around me anymore than anyone who feels no responsibility for anything, even when they should. It’s a part of my personality. This time, though, I’m in no doubt that this is my fault. If I had let you take the pictures when you told me it wasn’t allowed, then there would have been no possibility of the film falling into the wrong hands.”

Adonis lifted a hand to caress her cheek. “It is this, I think, that made me fall in love with you.”

Stevie felt a fiery blush mount her cheeks. She looked away uncomfortably. Poor man! He must have been terribly lonely to fall for the first female that came along. Or, maybe it was the sex. It had been good … well, great. The best she’d ever had, that was for darned sure! But men were more prone to think they were in love when they fell in lust.

It was hard to believe he could even think so, however. He had seen her at her worst, not just badly groomed, but a display of the worst side of her personality. She had been so tense, so frightened out of her mind since the murder she’d witnessed, since the death threats against her, that her temper was explosive and unpredictable. Not that she was some sweet little ladylike thing at the best of times, but there was no doubt, even in her own mind, that she’d been nothing short of a pure bitch lately.

“So sweet!” she murmured uncomfortably. “I think we need to move on this as quickly as possible,” she added, changing the subject abruptly. “It’s been several days already. If the thug got it, he’s had plenty of time to have it developed by now.”

Adonis allowed his hand to drop to his side. “How do you wish to travel there?”

Stevie thought about it. “I’m not really a very adventuresome person when all’s said and done. I’m not sure I could handle flying.”

Adonis frowned. “We shall have to enter this building then.”

“What is this building?”

“A bank, I believe.”

“Uh oh. Not a good idea.” She swallowed against a sharp stab of fear. “I guess we fly then, huh?”

Adonis stepped closer, pulling her tightly against him. “On my honor, I would never allow any harm to come to you, Stevie.”

“I know,” she said in a voice muffled against his chest. “Let’s just get this over with, OK?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on tightly, her eyes squeezed shut.

“I will pass out from lack of oxygen if you mean to choke me.”

There was amusement in his voice. Unfortunately, Stevie was in no mood to appreciate it. She loosened her grip a fraction. “Better?”

“Acceptable.” His arms tightened around her.

Stevie’s stomach took a nose dive. She concentrated on trying to breathe slowly and evenly. If she hyperventilated, she was going to pass out … again … and as comforting as the thought of oblivion was at the moment, it was far more comforting to know she had a tight grip on Adonis.

She didn’t think it took long to reach the docks, as the Atalantean flew, but it felt like a couple of lifetimes. She wondered if, when she got around to checking her appearance in a mirror again, she would see a streak of blinding white hair through her dark tresses, the mark of a traumatic experience forever recorded in a manner no one could fail to notice.

She couldn’t stand on her own when Adonis finally alighted. He had to hold her up until the water in her knees jelled sufficiently to lock them. He didn’t seem to mind, but Stevie found it downright embarrassing. Finally, however, the quaking subsided and she pried her death grip from his neck and stepped away. “Is this the spot?” she asked shakily, looking around and trying to remember.

Adonis, too, glanced around. “I believe so.”

It was still dark, of course, but there was illumination to cut down on crime in the area, shedding sufficient light for a search. She realized that, if the scenario had played out as she suspected, it didn’t necessarily follow that the camera had been destroyed right where it had fallen. She walked along one side, peering down, until she reached the end, then turned and retraced her steps on the other side. Adonis, she couldn’t help but notice, didn’t seem overly concerned about the matter. He followed her, dutifully staring down at the dock, but apparently he didn’t share her optimism that the roll of film was still there for he didn’t seem to be searching very hard.

He was right. It wasn’t. She did find some tiny bits of debris she thought had probably come from the camera. “This must be where he was standing when he broke the camera.”

Adonis nodded.

“I don’t suppose you want to go below for a look?”

Adonis placed his hands on his hips, looked around. “It would be better to go back and look.”

“Go back?” Stevie repeated blankly. “Oh. You mean replay the memory? But we weren’t here then.”

Adonis shook his head and walked away. He’d only taken three steps when he seemed almost transparent. Stevie blinked, wondering if it was some trick of the lighting. When she looked again, Adonis had vanished. She stared blankly at the spot where she’d last seen him, then looked around. “Adonis?”

Had he dove over the side without her noticing? She moved to the railing and looked down, but, naturally enough, could see nothing but the dark water below, crashing against the pilings.

As she turned away from the railing, she saw a shimmer of colors. Within seconds, the colors solidified. She stared at Adonis, dumbfounded. “How did you do that? What did you do? Where were you? I was standing right there.” She pointed. “The next thing I knew, you’d vanished.”

“There were two men. They were arguing about whether or not you had been hit before we dove in. They walked to this point and looked down at the water. One man noticed the camera case and picked it up. He was excited and said he could sell it and get money for smack. The other man snatched it away and beat it on the post—here. The film fell out. He picked it up and put it in his pocket to take to the boss.”

“I figured—You didn’t see it! We were in the water.”

“Not then. Just now.”

“You couldn’t have seen it now! It happened….”

Adonis studied her a moment. “You are upset that I time walked?”

“Time… That was what you meant? Before, when you were telling me…. You just walk—through time? Like there’s no barrier?”

“There is not. It is much like shifting.”

Stevie opened her mouth, then closed it again. “I don’t suppose you saw where they went?”

“You want to go there? It did not look like a very good place.”

“We have to get the film, don’t we?”

He held out his hand, opening his palm. “This is what you were searching for?”

“Oh. Well, that was easy.”

Adonis shrugged. “The man did not want to give it to me, but it was not difficult to take it.”

“Oh my God! You didn’t … you’re not hurt are you?” she asked, searching him anxiously. “You shouldn’t have done that! Those are dangerous men! You might have been shot!”

He nodded and produced a palm full of spent bullets. “I took them.”

Stevie’s knees just seemed to melt under her. She sat abruptly where she’d been standing a few moments before and covered her face with her hands. She sensed movement as Adonis knelt beside her, and that he studied her for several moments before hesitantly placing one arm around her comfortingly. “You are upset? I am not injured.”

“What did you do to the men?” Stevie asked in a voice muffled by her hands.

“I did them no lasting harm. It is forbidden to take life while time walking.”

“But not any other time?”

“Not always. One has the right to defend one’s own life, and the lives of one’s mate or child, with deadly force if necessary. Otherwise, it is forbidden as it is here.”

Stevie shuddered. Abruptly, she got to her feet and looked around. “We … I need to find a place to stay. Sort things through. I don’t know if I even want to try protective custody again. Well, I know I don’t. But, they’ll be looking for me, too.”

“Would you like for me to take you to the home of your parents?”

Stevie glanced at him, then turned away and began pacing. “They were killed in a fifteen car pile up on the interstate five years ago, just before my eighteenth birthday. The house I live in, is my parent’s home.”

“You have other family?”

She shook her head. “A sprinkling here and there, none of whom I really know. My father was in the military. We moved around a lot, didn’t get much chance to put down roots.”

“I would take you to my home if I could.”

She threw him a fleeting smile. “Sweet. I know you would, but you can’t go home either, can you?”

He frowned thoughtfully for several moments. “I could request sanctuary for you.”

Stevie stopped, staring at him for a long moment. “I’ve got no idea where you live.”

“Atalantium.”

She rolled her eyes. “So you told me. And Atalantium is….”

“Hidden.”

“Ahh. That pins it down nicely.” She moved to the railing, staring out at the ocean. “I’m so tired of hiding … tired of running.”

Adonis moved to stand behind her. After a moment, he placed his hands on her shoulders and tugged until she leaned back against him. “It is a beautiful world, Atalantium, beneath the sea. There is peace there. You would be safe from harm.”

Stevie smiled faintly. “Sounds like heaven.” She thought about it for a couple of moments and realized that it didn’t appeal to her at all. “I think I’m a terrible person.”

“Why?”

“Because the whole concept of heaven repels me. Everlasting peace, harmony. It makes me cringe even to think of existing forever with nothing to do. Not that I’m a glutton for punishment, mind you, but I have to do things. I could never be happy just floating along on a cloud, strumming a harp.”

Adonis chuckled. The sound sent a thrill of pleasure through her and she realized it was the first time she’d heard him laugh. “I did not say it was heaven. I said it was peaceful. There must always be toil where existence must be sustained. Where humans live and work together, there will always be jealousy and discord as well as admiration and harmony. It is not a perfect place, far from it, but it is beautiful, peaceful and far safer than your world.”

“You have mentioned things forbidden more than once. I would imagine it wouldn’t be too difficult for an outsider to get into a lot of trouble.”

“We have laws. It is necessary. People cannot live together in a civilized manner without them. The strong would prey upon the weak. It is human nature.”

Stevie shrugged and sighed. “You love your home. That’s natural. Of course it seems like a wonderful place to you. So does mine to me. I miss things familiar.”

She pushed away from him. “That settles it. I’m going home.”

Chapter Seven

The streets were deserted--or at least they seemed to be--as Stevie and Adonis made their way down a back alley and, after disarming the security system, entered her home. Stevie hesitated for several moments after she’d set the security system again and finally flicked the light switch. The foyer immediately flooded with light.

She looked around, relieved to see that everything seemed to be as she’d left it, and finally moved to the study. Snatching the desk drawer open, she felt around the underside of the desk, peeled the key loose and moved to the gun cabinet.

It had been her father’s gun cabinet. She was not fond of guns herself. She had dutifully learned to use whatever guns her father had deemed it necessary for her to be familiar with, but only to please him. She saw now that there were unexpected benefits to having been a loving and dutiful daughter.

Unlocking the cabinet, she studied the small arsenal for several moments and finally selected a small caliber semi-automatic handgun. It came with a shoulder holster, which she figured would be useful, and the smaller caliber had less of a recoil. Ejecting the clip, she loaded it, then replaced the filled clip and loaded a round in the chamber. Satisfied, she thrust her arms into the shoulder belt, fastened it, then shoved the gun in the holster.

Adonis had merely watched her silently from the door. “What are you doing?”

Stevie faced him. “I’m tired of running and hiding. I’ve got as much right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness as anyone else, and I don’t intend to let anyone take that away from me without a fight.”

Adonis frowned. Expecting him to object, his comments surprised her. “It would be more effective to seek out the boss and eliminate him.”

Stevie simply stared at him for several moments, then began to laugh. She shook her head at his look of surprise. “I was expecting you to object, that’s all.”

He shrugged. “I do not like for you to take unnecessary risks, but I see no fault in your logic.”

“I don’t see any fault in yours either. You’re right. Strategically speaking, the course most likely to succeed would be to eliminate the problem. Then, too, they would certainly not be expecting such a move. I’m afraid I have to admit that I have some fairly primitive, violent tendencies myself when it comes to my survival. That’s exactly what my preference would be—to hunt him down and take care of the problem. Unfortunately, vigilantism is ‘forbidden’. That ‘an eye for an eye’ thing has the tendency to snowball out of control. You kill one guy for killing somebody else, then his father, brother or mother turns around and kills somebody on your side for revenge, and before you know it everybody’s trying to wipe out everybody else.”

“You believe his people would seek to avenge him?”

Stevie thought about it. “Doubtful, unless he has close family members. His ‘associates’ would just see it as a promotion.”

“I could do this for you, if you prefer.”

“NO!”

His brows rose in surprise at her vehemence.

Stevie shook her head. “Look, don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less about whether the guy gets wiped out or not. People like that are subhuman. It’s insulting to animals to refer to them as animals. If anyone in the world doesn’t have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness it’s predators like that who prey on civilized society. But I can’t and won’t allow you to risk it for me.”

He merely stared at her, his expression carefully guarded.

“I know. You’ve already risked your life to save me, several times, but you volunteered. I didn’t ask you.”

“You need not ask.”

“NO!”

Adonis frowned. “I will not allow harm to come to you. Whether you wish it or not.”

“This is not your fight.”

“It is.”

Stevie stared at him. “How do you figure that?”

“I have chosen you as my life mate. I will allow no one to harm you.”

Stevie sat abruptly. Fortunately, she was standing beside a chair. The chair arm she landed on was not padded, however, and the jolting contact sent shock waves all the way up her spine. She glanced around and moved to sit in the seat of the chair. “Uh … I think I misunderstood that last.”

“I will not allow….”

“Not that part,” Stevie interrupted. “The part just before that.”

He flushed slightly. “I have chosen you as my life mate.”

No room for misinterpretation there. Stevie simply stared at him for some time, sorting through the mixed messages and emotions colliding in her brain. It was impossible to ignore the pleasure his statement produced. It was nice to be wanted, particularly by a man who would’ve earned a ten in anybody’s book, on everything from his looks, to his manners, to his charm and disposition. If she’d been looking for a ‘life mate’ as he called it, he would’ve had a full column on the plus side and a negative balance on the other.

Nor could she say he was just ‘nice’ and she could not conjure more than a filial affection or interest in him physically. She had been far too tense and distracted since she’d known him to be in touch with the other side of her nature, her libido, but there was absolutely no doubt in her mind that they clicked on a sexual level. Moreover, she realized that, despite the situation, maybe even because of it, he had definitely grown on her. She felt more than just a little affection for him. She missed him when he wasn’t around. It distressed her even to think of never seeing him again.

There was one insurmountable problem, however. She did not believe in marriage, and particularly not in a life union. It wasn’t a hollow ‘cause’ she’d invented to hide the fact that she hadn’t been asked. She’d had a couple of proposals. She’d had a few significant others. She had no problem with commitment—no phobia against it, anyway. Occasionally, she met someone who interested her in a short term arrangement. Sometimes it even worked for a while.

Mostly, however, she simply did not want the ‘baggage’, emotional or otherwise, of trying to pacify a partner. She liked making her own decisions. She didn’t want anyone trying to make them for her and she didn’t want to have to make decisions for somebody who was too weak, lazy or stupid to make them for themselves. If she thought it was at all possible to find someone who was truly her equal, she might have considered it, but she knew better. No such animal existed.

Every single time she’d tried it before, she had ended up with someone who thought they’d caught them a ‘sure thing’, sex whenever I want it, cook, maid, laundress, gofer--to handle all those tedious little errands they hated having to do themselves—in short, a slave, who would, incidentally, boost their income by adding hers to theirs, or at the very least, handle the mundane purchases like food, power, lodging, etc., while they dedicated their income to the ‘fun’ stuff; their ‘toys’; cars, boats, big screen TV’s, etc.; traveling, gambling—while they discreetly, or not so discreetly, continued the hunt for the ultimate lay.

She certainly didn’t hate men. She enjoyed them thoroughly. They had their uses and as long as a girl didn’t get attached, or roped into playing doormat for their many ‘needs’, they were fun to be around in short doses.

“I am not like that,” Adonis said harshly.

“Forgot. You really ought not to eavesdrop. You know what they say, ‘an eavesdropper never hears good about himself’. Anyway, they all say that. And when all’s said and done, men really prefer the company of other men to women. They don’t want a life mate. They want a whore, a mother, and a doormat for when they’re feeling frustrated and need a good punching bag that’ll scream with pain and show them what a big man they are.”

“You have been treated thus?”

Stevie laughed. “Not on your life! I’d be in SingSing now if a man had ever abused me like that. It’s because I’ve no desire to become a death row inmate, or permanent prison fixture, that I abstain from allowing myself to be abused. Fortunately, I’m one of those rare individuals who can learn from other people’s mistakes.”

“You have not met the right person.”

Stevie rolled her eyes. “They always say that. ‘If you met the right person, you’d want to devote your life to them, having their children, etc., etc.’ I guess I’m just too selfish…. Or maybe I’m just too much like a man…. I don’t want to devote my life to anybody but me. I have no housekeeping skills to speak of and no desire to acquire them. And I have no deep yearning to procreate, especially if it means never having a moment to myself for the rest of eternity.”

Adonis crossed the room and knelt in front of her. “Some people truly are partners, they share the good and the bad.”

Stevie patted his hand. “In your utopian society, maybe,” she said dismissively, though she took leave to doubt it.

He sat back on his heels, studying her for several moments. “You do not think that you could come to care for me at all?” he asked, his expression carefully guarded.

The question surprised her. He had not understood what she’d said at all if that was the impression he’d taken away with him. “Don’t be absurd. I do care for you. Very much. I don’t know how it happened, or even when it happened, but you’ve certainly grown on me.” She leaned forward and draped her arms around his neck, lifting her head to kiss him lightly on the lips. “Why don’t we go upstairs so I can prove it to you by lavishing my affection upon you?”

“We will make love this time? Not mercy fuck?” he asked suspiciously.

Feeling a rush of anticipation, Stevie sucked a love bite on the side of his neck. “We’ll call it anything you like, baby,” she murmured huskily.

Adonis reddened, grasped her arms and carefully disentangled them. “Thank you. I do not wish to merely call it making love, however. I am not a child, Stevie. In truth, I am far older than you. I am not short on wit. And I would prefer not to be called ‘baby’.”

Stevie flushed a little. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound patronizing. Really, I didn’t. ‘Baby’ isn’t supposed to be an insult. It’s a term of affection. It just means I think you’re cute and sweet.”

He did not look happy about the interpretation. “A child might be cute and sweet. I am a man. If I was selfish, without honor, bad tempered and a coward who took his frustrations out upon those weaker than me, would I be more to your taste?” he asked grimly.

She was tempted to simply throw up her hands in defeat, but now that she’d initiated sex, she realized that she was horny as hell. It was weird the way a person could do without for months and months, and then the moment they got a little that was really good, they wanted more.

She wasn’t currently in the mood to examine that interesting aspect of biology, however. “No, you would not. Why do men always think a woman would rather have a son-of-a-bitch? Believe me, except for the sick ones, they wouldn’t. A lot of times, when a woman says ‘nice’, she means boring. She’s just trying to be polite, and nice herself, by not telling the guy he just doesn’t excite her. That doesn’t mean she wants a guy that will cheat on her and beat her up. It means she wants someone who’ll excite her, just like guys would rather be with a woman that excites them.

“I said you were nice because you are—and it happens to be one of the things I like best about you--not because you don’t excite me. Surely you can’t be in any doubt at all that you thrill me right down to my toes?”

She studied his face. He still looked as if he didn’t quite believe her, but at least he wasn’t looking hurt and angry anymore. “If it bothers you, I won’t call you that,” she murmured huskily, wrapping her arms around his neck once more as she slipped from the chair and moved against him. “How does this come off, anyway?”

He said nothing, remaining stiff and uncooperative. She kissed her way up his neck and caught his ear lobe between her teeth, biting down just hard enough she felt him wince, then sucking it before she traced the shell of his ear. “Mmmm,” she murmured. “I do love a challenge.”

She slipped one hand down his chest, over his hard belly and then cupped his sex, massaging his ‘package’ gently before she wrapped her hand around his cock. It hardened almost instantly, much to her satisfaction. The toga, she discovered, had disappeared, but she was learning not to be too surprised about anything Adonis did and in any case, she was fully aroused herself. Leaning back slightly, she looked down at his cock. She was surprised then. It was impressive, but she was certain it had been bigger before.

“You were right. It was too big for you. Does it please you more now?”

“So you … It does do tricks,” she said with a sultry chuckle. “You are an amazing man, especially this.” She leaned close and whispered, “It feels wonderful inside of me. It fits perfectly.”

He groaned as she caressed his cock, his eyes sliding half closed. Lifting a hand, he cupped the back of her head and pulled her to him, capturing her lips. She parted them, slipping her tongue into his mouth, exploring it thoroughly, enjoying the feel of her flesh against his, enjoying his taste. When he caressed her tongue with his own, stroking it, sucking on it, hot moisture bathed her sex. Her heart leapt into a thundering tattoo against her chest wall. Breathlessness overcame her. Her gasping breaths mingled with his.

As he reached to grasp her shirt, however, she stopped him. Pushing him back against the carpeted floor, she sat up. Smiling a faintly teasing smile, she took his arms and pushed them against the floor on either side of his head. Leaning over him, she licked a trail up his chest to his neck and then bit his chin lightly. “Lie still. I’m going to lavish you with my affection.”

He looked a question.

“All you have to do—for now—is just lie still. You must remain perfectly still. You can not touch me. Understand?”

He looked confused, but he nodded.

Stevie got to her feet and began to strip for him at a leisurely pace. Unfastening the shoulder harness, she turned and carefully set the gun and holster on the chair behind her. Then, turning to face him once more, she lifted the bottom edge of her knit shirt, peeling it upwards until it was above her bra. Just as slowly, she pulled it off over her head and tossed it aside. She reached for the fastening on her jeans next, popping the snap, slowly sliding the zipper to the bottom until her belly and the top of her panties were exposed. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband, she began to push the jeans down with careful deliberation, leaving her panties untouched, then perched on the seat of the chair and pulled the jeans off her ankles and tossed them to one side as she had her shirt.

Standing once more, she hesitated for several moments, studying his face. His eyes had grown dark with desire, she saw, and it sent a shiver of anticipation through her. After a moment, she reached behind her and unfastened her bra, holding the bra cups in place and allowing the straps to slip down her arms. When she’d removed her arms from the straps, she tossed the bra aside. Cupping her breasts in her hands, she lifted them, massaging the cramped feel of the confining bra from them, teasing her nipples until they stood erect, studying the growing desire in his face all the while, feeling her own escalate until it became more and more difficult to continue with the tease.

After a moment, she reached for the tie she generally used to keep the long tresses of her hair out of her way. Removing it, she ran her fingers through her hair, loosening it, a little surprised to see how long it had gotten since the last time she’d noticed. It fell past her breasts, almost to her waist. Draping it over her shoulders, she hooked her thumbs into the waist of her panties on either side and pushed them down her legs.

When she’d removed them, she stepped toward him, placing a foot on either side of his hips. His gaze went immediately to the dark thatch of hair that surrounded her sex. She reached down, fluffing the hair, parting the flesh for his view.

A flush spread over him. His eyes darkened with desire and slid half closed. He made an abortive movement, as if he would reach for her, but then apparently remembered that he was not allowed to touch and went still again, balling his hands into fists beside his hips.

Stevie smiled faintly in satisfaction. Bending her knees, she lowered herself slowly until she was sitting on his abdomen, just above his sex. She could feel his hard cock nudging the cleft of her buttocks, as if it had a mind of it’s own.

She slipped back against it, rocking back and forth for a moment. Adonis groaned, closing his eyes, his face contorting with the effort to remain still.

Leaning forward, Stevie placed her palms on his chest, running them over him lightly so that she could feel the texture of his skin, the sculpting of the musculature beneath it. He looked, and felt, like someone who was ‘in’ to body sculpting, but she was fairly certain it was purely natural with him, not the results of years of training with weights.

His skin felt as sleek and smooth and soft as her own, sending pleasant shocks of sensation through her fingers and into her pleasure centers as she caressed and explored his body, teasing the taut male nipples by tweaking them with her finger tips, moving her hands down over his taut belly.

He convulsed when she touched his lower belly. She scooted backwards, leaning forward until she could tease that sensitive area with her lips, sucking a chain of love bites across until he was moving restlessly, gasping each time she chose another spot. She hesitated for several moments, then moved upward, teasing his nipples with her tongue, then raking her nails over them lightly, moving downward once more. This time she didn’t stop until her buttocks were resting on his thighs.

She cupped his testicles in one hand, massaging them gently as she reached to cover the head of his cock with her mouth, teasing the sensitive rim with her tongue, then sucking on the head. He tensed with the first touch of her mouth on his cock, reaching for her. Catching his hands, she pushed them down once more, then grasped his cock and slipped it as far into her mouth as she could, slowly, teasingly.

He groaned as if in agony. The sound alone sent shivers of delight all over her. Her belly clenched. She began moving then, faster, then more slowly, slipping his cock in and out of her mouth.

Quite suddenly, he grasped her shoulders. In the next moment, she found herself flat on her back on the rug. Before she could do more than gasp in surprise, Adonis grasped her ankles and yanked her toward him, burying his mouth on her mound. Sucking her clit into his mouth, he sent her senses reeling out of control. A moan was wrenched from her throat. She reached for him, grasping his hair, but even she wasn’t certain whether she meant to hold him to her or push him away.

She did know, though, that she did not want a clitoral climax. She wanted him deeply inside of her when she came.

She didn’t get the chance to demand it.

Within seconds, the hot suction of his mouth, the rough tease of his tongue brought her to climax. Stevie gasped, went rigid as the waves of ecstasy rolled through her. She went limp when he stopped, fighting for breath.

Her heart had only begun to slow, her breathing was still harsh and rapid, when he began again. This time, it took far less time to bring her to climax.

When he lifted his head, she tried to push him away, almost fearful that he would start again and her heart would explode.

Instead, he leaned over her, slipping his cock through her juices with ease, burying himself deep inside of her. Blindly, Stevie reached for him, digging her nails into his shoulders. Scooping her up, he held her in his lap, pumping up inside of her hard and fast, cupping her buttocks and lifting her to the rhythm he’d set.

Despite the fact that she’d already climaxed twice, Stevie felt herself begin climbing once more to culmination the moment he slammed his cock into her. Within moments, she was nearing her crescendo. She screamed when it slammed through her, never in her life having felt anything even approaching it in intensity. She went as limp as a rag doll even as she felt him tense, felt the jerk of his cock inside of her as he came, sending a hot wash of fluids through her sex.

She was only semi-conscious when he gently laid her back on the carpet, sated as she’d never been before, bonelessly weak. It was some moments before she realized that he had not joined her. She frowned slightly when she heard him rise, lifting her eye lids with a great effort to look up at him.

He was staring down at her, his face grim. “I lost control.”

“Mmm,” Stevie managed.

“My humble apologies. I did not mean to use you thus.”

“S’ all right,” Stevie murmured sleepily, feeling as if she’d been drugged.

“It is not. I love you.”

Stevie smiled faintly, or thought she did, feeling her awareness drifting away.

Adonis was gone when she awoke.

Chapter Eight

Sunlight, filtering through the louvered shutters on the study window, climbed across Stevie’s face. As it strengthened, growing unpleasantly warm, she rolled over and felt around groggily. The surface beneath her palm wasn’t what she’d expected and it brought her awake enough to open her eyes.

Patterned carpet slowly came into focus. Stevie frowned.

Slowly, memories of the night before filtered into her mind and Stevie smiled, stretching all over. They had never made it to the bed.

A twinge of discomfort wiped the smile from her face. She had carpet burns on her ass.

Sitting up, Stevie looked around. She was as sore in every muscle as if she’d had a two hour workout the day before. The thought brought a grin to her face. What a workout! “Adonis?”

He didn’t respond. After a few moments, Stevie decided to see if he’d gone exploring. Rising, she gathered her discarded clothing and the gun up in her arms and searched the first floor. Finding no sign of him, she made her way up the stairs and checked each room on the second floor.

When she’d finished and found no sign of him, she stopped in the upper hallway, thinking, staring at nothing in particular. No matter how she jogged her memory, however, she couldn’t remember anything she had done, or that Adonis had said, that would explain his departure.

The last thing she remembered was that he’d said he loved her. Remembering sent a warm glow through her.

He’d said it before. She had discounted it then, figuring that it was loneliness speaking, not a heartfelt emotion. There had been something in his voice the night before, a certain note, however, that made goosebumps chase each other over her arms each time she recalled it, something in the way he said it that told he meant it.

She found herself smiling like a sap at a dust mote on the floor. Shrugging it off, she made her way to her room and dropped the clothes she’d been carrying in the clothes hamper. After selecting a change of clothing, she set the gun on top, gathered the bundle of clothes and headed for the bathroom.

Dazed or not, she carefully locked the door behind her, taking a straight chair from the other room and wedging it under the knob. She wasn’t about to be caught in the shower completely off-guard if one of Carlos’ hitmen showed up.

Setting the gun on the back of the toilet, within easy reach, she adjusted the water and got in. Thirty minutes later, after a thorough, leisurely shower, she got out again, toweled herself dry, and dressed.

Adonis, she quickly discovered, had not returned.

Disappointed and more than a little confused, she made her way into the kitchen and searched her refrigerator. She hadn’t been home in weeks. Most of what had been left had gone bad. Dragging the trash can over, she disposed of the limp, brown vegetables and soft fruit. The milk was solid. After taking a whiff, she wrinkled her nose and tossed the carton in the trash can, as well. She found an apple that looked like it might still be edible, cut the soft brown spots off and munched it while she searched the cabinets. Finding a mostly empty box of sugar coated cereal, she sat down at the kitchen counter with it and ate it dry, wondering where Adonis had gone off to.

He’d had a habit of appearing and disappearing since she’d known him. Of course, mostly, when he disappeared, it was because they’d had an argument about something. And they hadn’t….

She gnawed the inside of her cheek thoughtfully. They had had a little bit of a dispute just before they’d had sex, but surely….

She frowned, thinking back. He’d seemed to have put his anger aside when she’d initiated sex. She’d thought he had. What if he hadn’t, though?

She studied over it for sometime, but, to save her life, she couldn’t remember anything he’d said to indicate he was still stewing over her earlier comments.

The last thing she remembered him saying was that he loved her.

What had he said before that? Something about using her?

It occurred to her then that he’d seemed to have the idea that he’d done something wrong. How he could have gotten that idea was beyond her. Anyway, she’d told him she was fine with it…. Hadn’t she?

She’d been exhausted, though. She had never in her life climaxed three times in a row. It had never even occurred to her to think she could. But the most wonderful part of it was that each one had been more powerfully explosive than the one before. One would think, after being sated once, that the body wouldn’t be able to experience it again, not so soon, and certainly not to such an extreme.

She’d screamed as if she was dying.

“Oh my god!”

She got up abruptly, gazing up at the ceiling. “Adonis! Adonis!--What am I doing?” she muttered after a moment. “Yelling at the ceiling like he’s sitting up on Mount Olympus looking down?”

She put her hands to her temples, concentrating his name in her mind, over and over. That had no effect either.

She plunked her hands on her hips and stomped one foot angrily. “Damn it! I told you I was OK with it. Did I complain? No! It was wonderful! Really. I’m not just saying that. It was the best sex … love making I’ve ever had.”

She waited hopefully for some time. He did not appear, however, and her shoulders slumped. Either he was still upset, or he couldn’t hear her.

“The only thing worse than an insensitive asshole is a man that’s too damned sensitive. Why is it that no damn body seems to be able to hit a happy medium? Jeez! Can’t even open my mouth without that man getting his feelings hurt! Shit!

“If you really loved me,” she yelled at the ceiling, “you’d forgive me. You wouldn’t get all pissy and leave me alone here.”

She wasn’t really surprised when he still didn’t answer, but she was supremely pissed. After a few moments of fuming, she dismissed it. Let him sulk. She had things to do. She had to set her life in order. Her house stank of stale air and decaying food.

She pulled her gun from her holster and checked it, then slipped it back into it’s carrier, leaving the strap unsnapped. Grabbing the handle of the garbage can, she wheeled it outside. It was too early in the week to push it to the curb. Some stray dog would just push it over and strew rotting vegetables all over everywhere for her to clean up. She left the can in the garage and returned to the kitchen.

When she’d finished cleaning, she studied the empty refrigerator and cabinets again. She needed to go out for food. Despite her brave assertions to Adonis, however, she realized that she really had no desire to resume her former life under the present circumstances. She would have preferred to stay safely inside.

She was going to get mighty hungry, however, if she didn’t get some food. She could always order food to be delivered. In general, that was what she did anyway. Except, she usually had food on hand for breakfast, and for those times when she got sick enough of take-out food that her own cooking actually appealed more.

Anyway, she was getting short on cash, too. She’d done nothing for weeks except draw from her account, because she hadn’t been able to earn anything to put back in. She’d made it a hard and fast rule never to touch her savings. That was strictly for security, and she wouldn’t have any security if she spent it on frivolous things, or anything, in fact, that she was capable of providing with a little effort.

There was a car, she saw when she peered cautiously out of one of the front windows, on the opposite side of the street perhaps three houses down. It didn’t appear to be occupied.

She decided she’d wait a day or two before she ventured out. She wasn’t stupid enough to think she could have her life back just as it had been before. She was going to have to make a few sacrifices. She couldn’t come and go just because the mood struck her.

Returning to the study, she took the shoulder holster off, removed the pistol and laid it on the desk within easy reach. Turning on her computer, she pulled up the file she’d been working on before all hell broke loose and began working on it. The next time she checked the clock it was because her stomach had reached the point where it refused to be ignored. To her surprise, she discovered it was almost six PM. She’d become so engrossed that she’d worked through lunch.

This was getting back to her old routine with a vengeance.

She’d barely thought about Adonis … maybe a few dozen times … but she had discipline. She went right back to work.

After throwing together a meal of canned soup and tuna fish sandwich, she made the rounds on the first floor, checking doors and windows. Not that she was overly concerned about the windows since they’d all been fitted with burglar bars years ago. Mainly, she just wanted to satisfy her sense of security, that no one had been tampering with them, trying to cut the bolts. She wedged a straight back chair under the door knob of all outside doors, including the one leading into the garage, then returned to the kitchen, took her soup from the microwave and placed it on a tray next to her sandwich and bottled water.

She rarely ate in either the kitchen or the dining room, unless it was breakfast. Staring at her food while she ate, or the walls, didn’t really appeal to her. After her parents’ deaths, she’d found she just couldn’t face a solitary meal in either room when she’d always joined her parents for meals. She’d tried reading while she ate, but it was too awkward trying to hold a book open, read and fill her mouth all at the same time. Finally, she’d gotten into the habit of eating in front of the TV set in her room. It was company of a sort, a distraction to fill up the empty silence around her while she ate.

Balancing the tray, she made her way upstairs and into her bedroom where she set the tray on the bedside table. Leaving it, she went to check the windows on the upper floor. She saw no sign that anyone had been trying to enter and decided that no one had figured out she’d returned home yet, neither the Feds nor Carlos.

After she’d barricaded herself into her room, she sat at the small desk in her room, flipped the TV on and ate.

She couldn’t help but wonder where Adonis was. Maybe, she thought, he wasn’t actually mad with her or--whatever. Maybe he’d just had something to do? She shrugged. That was probably it. She didn’t have a clue what that something might be, but she was certain he must have some things he had to take care of, even if he’d been banished from his home.

She didn’t sleep terribly well.

She was certain it was because the house creaked almost continuously. She wondered why she’d never really noticed that before.

Three days passed in almost identical fashion. On the fourth morning, when she awoke after yet another bad night, Stevie realized she was going to have to quit lying to herself.

Obviously, she’d done or said something unforgivable. Adonis wasn’t coming back this time.

She felt like flinging herself across the bed and crying until she was dry the moment she allowed the thought to take form in her mind. Instead, after staring at the floor angrily for several moments, she dressed and went out.

Her first stop was the hardware store. Once she’d picked up what she needed there, she drove by the marina and made arrangements for a one day trip. Her next stop was the camera shop. She had to use a credit card for her purchase. She didn’t have enough money in the bank to afford a replacement for the one that had been destroyed, and without it, she had no way to make any more. Almost as an afterthought, she stopped by one of the local low end department stores. The grocery store was the last stop on her trip.

The car she’d spotted several days earlier was parked on her street again, this time on her side and only a couple of doors down.

Keying in the security code, she pulled her car into the garage. After a quick check to make certain no one was waiting for her, she closed the garage door, pulled her pistol from the holster and got out to check the house. To her relief, everything seemed to be as she’d left it. Satisfied it was safe, she pushed her pistol back in its holster and began unloading the car.

She spent the remainder of the day installing braces on the inside of the exterior doors and her bedroom door. When she was finished, she lugged the under counter refrigerator she’d bought upstairs to her room and set up a small, makeshift kitchen, having decided it would be easier to defend one small room than a whole house. Since the bedroom was her last defense, she knew she needed an escape route.

Retrieving an aluminum ladder from the garage, she set it up in her bedroom and cut a hole in the ceiling big enough to crawl through, then pulled herself up into the attic crawl space and made her way over to the roof vent. It was made to look like a small window, but it did not open. Instead, it was covered with wooden louvers. She tested them and saw that it would take very little effort to knock them out if necessary. Leaving the rope ladder she’d bought beside the vent, she dragged a sheet of the plywood that had been loose laid in the attic over the attic access ladder and nailed it down.

She was sweating and coated in fiberglass insulation when she crawled down again, but she felt better already. Taking the ladder, she moved into the hall and nailed the attic access door shut from the bottom, as well. It was in easy view, situated as it was in the upper hallway. She wanted to make damn sure none of the bad guys got the idea that they could use it to get to her.

It was a hell of a way to live.

She was more than a little tempted to jump in the shower when she’d finished nailing the door shut, but it was late in the day and she decided to finish the task she’d set herself of heightened security before she allowed herself the luxury of bathing the itchy insulation off. Returning downstairs, she went from room to room, gathering up anything that she thought she might want or need. It was almost dark when she’d finished. Moving to the window, she peered through to check on the car she’d seen earlier.

It was gone.

She didn’t know whether that was a good sign or a bad one.

Either way, she was fairly certain she was being watched.

Shrugging it off, she checked the first floor one last time and climbed the stairs.

She told herself as she settled in for the night that she was just as relieved that Adonis had taken the initiative and left. She’d been very fond of him. It would have been a disaster for her if he’d stayed around long enough for her to grow really attached, and then left.

One of the first things he’d told her was how miserable he was that he could not go home. The very moment he could, he would be off like a shot and that would’ve been the end of their affair anyway.

It was just as well that things had ended as they had.

She would have been much more miserable, she assured herself, if she’d actually been around him long enough to do something really stupid, like fall in love.

It was a very good thing that she wasn’t inclined to imagine herself in love with every guy that came along. It was a good thing that she’d never had any desire to marry and settle down.

She’d purchased some over the counter sleep aids. She debated whether it would be safe to take one or not and finally decided that it probably wasn’t strong enough to make much difference. For the first time since the night Adonis had left, she slept soundly. She felt almost happy when she woke, partly because she’d managed to get a good night’s rest, and partly because she’d planned a day trip.

It had become such an ingrained habit that she pulled the shoulder holster on and fastened it even before she gathered up her equipment for the trip. She checked her watch to make sure she had plenty of time and then moved to the door to listen for any sound that might indicate someone was inside the house. Hearing nothing, she removed the brace, unlocked the door, and peered out cautiously.

Everything looked to be as she’d left it. Drawing her pistol, she hefted her duffel bag and made her way down the hall.

The car was back.

She’d never paid much attention to her neighbors, or their comings and goings, but she was certain the car did not belong on the street. It might belong to someone visiting, but if it had belonged to one of her neighbors it would have occupied a parking spot near the same house each time she saw it.

Unless they were lying in the seat, the car was unoccupied, but she kept an eye on her rear view mirror as she drove to the marina.

Chapter Nine

Her day trip to the ocean went a long way toward easing her tension. She made three dives and, although she collected little by way of helpful data, she did manage to take two or three pictures she thought might be salable.

She was tired as they started back, but more at peace than she’d been since Adonis vanished, despite the fact that being in the ocean only seemed to intensify her sense of loss. Even though she had made it a point to see to it that they did not stop anywhere near the area where she’d first spotted him, she had still found herself looking for him hopefully.

She’d managed after a while, however, to put him—mostly—from her mind and focus on what she had come to do. It made her hopeful that the misery would be short lived. She would, she was certain, forget about him soon enough. She had experience with losses. She knew how to handle it—work hard and never let it overwhelm her. Eventually, it would only cause a little twinge of pain when she thought about it.

Despite her distraction, she checked her pistol to make certain the charter captain hadn’t tampered with it, then donned her shoulder harness when she had dressed in her street clothes once more. The charter captain hadn’t looked any too happy about the fact that she was wearing a gun when she came aboard. She’d made a mental note of it, just in case he was uneasy enough to empty the gun while she was down below.

It was nearly dark when they docked and the docks had emptied. Only an occasional straggler lingered here and there.

Stevie scanned the docks worriedly, wishing she hadn’t stayed out so long. There would’ve been less chance that anyone would try anything in broad daylight. Nor would they have had so many shadows to hide in.

Finally, she hefted her bag and disembarked. As soon as she had cleared the boat, she pulled her pistol. She was no quick draw. She might not get the chance to pull it if anyone accosted her.

She was stiff with tension by the time she reached her car. After looking around carefully, she pulled her keys from her Jeans pocket and pushed them into her door lock.

A man, who’d apparently been hiding behind the vehicle parked two parking spaces down from her own, rushed her as she awkwardly fitted the key in the lock with her left hand. The crunch of gravel alerted her. Dropping the keys, Stevie whirled at the sound, firing at the same moment. He screamed, cursed, but kept coming, not really surprising since a .22 caliber rarely stopped a determined, full grown man.

Stevie had expected as much. It was the reason she’d chosen a semi-automatic. She dropped to a crouch and managed to fire twice more before he launched himself at her, catching him a second time.

Impact came from behind, however. Too late, Stevie realized she had two assailants, not one. A plastic bag was thrown over her head. Reacting on instinct, Stevie drove her elbow backward before the bag could be drawn tightly around her neck. She heard a whoof of sound as her elbow connected. Someone grabbed her upper arms, manacling them to her sides. Gripping the pistol tightly, she lifted the gun as high as she could and emptied the clip, firing wildly in every direction. She didn’t expect to hit anything, but she damn sure wasn’t about to be shot with her own gun. She pointed the last shot down and behind her, tensing as she pulled the trigger.

To her relief, she managed to miss her own leg.

She heard another yell, but she wasn’t certain whether she’d hit home again or if the man had screamed in fury or startlement. Dropping the empty gun, she grabbed for the bag, ripping it, although she didn’t manage to pull it free.

Blindly, she kicked back at the man who had flung his arms around her from behind, gripping her in a bear hug. She struck flesh and bone, but her shoes were flats and did little damage. As he gripped her harder and snatched her off her feet, she kicked wildly, figuring the other man must be in front of her, hoping to fend him off. She hit the side of her car, something soft and fleshy, and then nothing more as she was whirled dizzily.

Realizing she’d lost the battle, Stevie drew in a deep breath and let loose a siren scream. As she drew breath for a second effort, however, someone punched her in the ribs. Her legs were grabbed while she was still struggling to draw air into her lungs, fighting to keep from passing out.

Still dazed, she heard the sound of gravel underfoot and then the planks of the docks.

They were either taking her out to sea or they were going to throw her off the docks. Finally managing to draw a deep breath, Stevie commenced struggling once more, hoping to at least work one of her legs free.

Luck was with her, at least momentarily. She freed one leg. Drawing her knee up, she slammed her leg down as hard as she could in the general direction, she hoped, of her assailant’s face. Apparently, she was right on target. He screamed and dropped her. The sudden jolt ripped her from the other man’s grasp, as well. Before she could recover from the fall, however, she felt a weight come down on her stomach, hard, as one of the men leapt on top of her.

“Bitch! You stinking cunt!” he screamed furiously. “I’m going to make you suffer before you die!”

His fist caught her on the jaw. Stevie was only semi-conscious when she hit the bottom of the boat, not conscious enough to feel much pain from the impact, but she was conscious enough to know she’d just lost the only advantage she had—the possibility of escape.

A splash of water in her face brought her around some time later. The bag had been removed, she supposed so she could face her executioners. Briefly, a tiny sense of satisfaction touched her as she got a look at the men for the first time in the dim moonlight. The two men looked to be in nearly as sorry a shape as she was. Both men were nursing wounds, nothing, unfortunately, that looked fatal, but she’d at least managed to wound them. That meant they would almost certainly have to go to a hospital, and the chances increased that they would be caught, at least, for her murder.

There was no doubt in her mind that they would succeed. They’d bound her wrists and ankles while she was lying on the floor of the boat, only semi-conscious. She’d lost her pistol … not that it would really do her any good, because she’d used up the bullets, but it might have made a fairly good club if she’d still had it.

Currently, the only ‘weapons’ she had at her disposal were her teeth, and possibly her bound legs. She was lying flat on her back. If she could just pull her knees up and get a little force behind a blow….

She gave up on trying to be unobtrusive as the taller of the two stood and moved toward her. As he leaned down to grab her and haul her upright, she pulled her knees to her chest. Planting her feet on his belly as he moved in, she launched him. He flew backwards and went over the side of the small motor boat, hitting the water so hard water gushed over the side.

“Fuck! You bitch!”

“Fuck you, asshole!”

He waved a gun at her.

Her lip curled. “You think I’m going to beg you not to shoot me? I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

He cocked the gun and pointed it at her face.

“I thought you’d planned to make me suffer?”

He hesitated, studied her suspiciously.

The other man managed to haul himself back onto the boat. “Shoot her, Pete. Did you see what that fucking bitch did to me? I could’ve gotten eaten by a shark, or something!”

“Shut up, stupid!”

‘Stupid’ swung a kick in her direction. Stevie had been more than half expecting retaliation, however. She rolled to the other side of the boat and kicked the leg he was using to brace himself. He fell, coming down on the side of the boat hard enough to crack a rib. Pete rushed her while her attention was focused on ‘stupid’. Grasping the front of her shirt, he hauled her upright and punched her in the face.

Even as he did so, Stevie heard a roar of fury. The front of the boat bobbed up as the rear dipped from a sudden impact. Stevie’s knees buckled from the blow. Pete released her almost simultaneously, whirling to look behind him.

Unable to open the eye he’d punched her in, Stevie, sprawled on the bottom of the boat once more, turned her head to peer out of her good eye. Joy and relief filled her in equal parts. Adonis was standing on the rear seat of the motor boat, his legs braced apart, his sword in one hand and his trident in the other. His features were contorted in fury. Except for the fact that he was currently minus his merman’s tail, he looked like Neptune rising from the sea.

Pete was still gaping at him in surprise when Adonis clove his head from his shoulders.

Stunned, Stevie’s gaze just seemed to follow the flight of the body-less head as it tumbled from his shoulders, struck the side of the boat and then hit the water. She was still staring at the point where it had disappeared into the water when she heard a grunt that sounded as if someone was going to throw up. Still too stunned to even assimilate what was happening, she turned in time to see ‘stupid’ twitching on the end of Adonis’ trident.

Adonis snatched his trident loose and ‘stupid’ tumbled from the boat and disappeared beneath the waves. Sheathing his sword, Adonis lifted Pete’s twitching body and tossed it after the first one.

Stevie stared at him blankly as he knelt beside her and began examining her injuries. His look of concern gave way to rage once more when he examined her battered face. “I should not have given them a quick death,” he muttered furiously.

Stevie discovered her mind was perfectly blank. For once in her life, she could think of nothing at all to say as Adonis laid his trident aside and deftly removed the ropes binding her wrists and ankles.

Gently, he grasped her shoulders and helped her sit up. “Are you injured elsewhere?”

Stevie could only stare at him stupidly. She saw his lips moving. Dimly, she was aware of the questioning note in his voice, but she couldn’t seem to understand anything he was saying. He paled when she failed to respond and checked her over carefully. Finding no sign of injury, he shook her.

Stevie felt her head rock back and forth on her shoulders. It seemed to shake a flood tide of emotion free. She burst into tears, clutching him tightly as he gathered her into his arms. He stroked her hair soothingly. “You are safe now. I did not hear your distress or I would have come sooner.”

That didn’t really make any sense to her either. She hadn’t called for him. She’d been too busy trying to fight for her life.

“You did not think that I would come?”

“You left,” she said almost accusingly. “Without a word. What else was I to think?”

“I did not trust myself. I was afraid that I might loose control and use you badly as I had before. I thought you would not want me when you could not trust me.”

Again, Stevie drew a blank, unable to assimilate what he was talking about. It dawned on her finally, but he released her and stepped back. Before she could think of anything to say, he spoke again.

“I have petitioned the council to protect you.”

“What?” Stevie said, immediately distracted.

“I will take you to Atalantium. You are safe no where else.”

“But … I can’t!”

His lips tightened grimly. “Then I must find Carlos. Once he is dead you will be safe.”

Stevie grabbed his arm. “NO! You can’t do that! You’d be arrested.”

Adonis smiled grimly. “The laws of your world do not concern me.”

“They concern me!” Stevie snapped. “You’d be wanted for murder. You’d never be able to … to show your face again without risking arrest.”

“Nevertheless, I will not risk anything like this again,” he said, gesturing toward the carnage within the boat, though she supposed he was referring to her abduction.

She was not about to allow him to risk more for her. “I’ll go.”

He smiled faintly. “Good. You will be safe there.”

Scooping her up without another word, he leapt from the boat, changing in mid-air from man to merman. Stevie gasped in a deep breath as she saw the waves rushing toward her. She never struck the water, however. The pressure bubble surrounded her even as they entered the sea.

* * * *

Before them the coral reef seemed to stretch on forever. It teamed with life, an ancient living thing that provided a life for many other creatures, great and small. The mass of it reflected its antiquity, placing its beginnings, at a wild guess, a blink past the ice age.

Stevie had not seen it before. She was certain of it, though she knew they must be in waters she’d explored before, many times. Even when one considered the vastness of the ocean, it was difficult to accept that she could have missed something like this at her own back door. The coral reef she’d spent the past five years of her life studying paled to insignificance beside it.

Adonis followed one meandering tendril of growth for a while, skimming just above it, and finally began to descend. Awed, it was some moments before Stevie thought to wonder at his destination. When she turned to look, she saw what appeared to be a hole, or perhaps, considering its dimensions, a cavern.

She frowned. Coral did not commonly grow up around holes. Caves formed in geological matter. Perhaps there had once been something like a ship, wooden, which in time had rotted away as the coral grew around it? It seemed unlikely, but she supposed it was possible.

Before she could even consider asking Adonis about it, a movement near the opening drew her attention.

A merman, armed with trident and sword hovered in the opening, as if in challenge. Adonis halted. They stared at one another for some moments and then the stranger nodded. Stevie turned to look at Adonis.
Thor will protect you. I can not go further.

You’re leaving me … here? With him?

He is the Guardian, Thor. No harm will come to you. I give you my word.

“But, Adonis…,” Stevie objected, tired to trying to communicate via telepathy.

He shook his head. I am banished. I may not return for yet another moon cycle.

Before Stevie could say, or even think, more, he tossed the bubble that encased her as if it were a basketball. The momentum rocked Stevie backwards. She held her breath as she fell, certain she would burst the pressure bubble that protected her. It gave, but to her relief remained intact. By the time she was able to right herself, however, Adonis was disappearing in the distance.

Dismayed, Stevie could only gape as he vanished from sight.

The warrior who captured her safety bubble directed it into the ‘cavern’ he’d emerged from. Before they’d traveled more than a few yards, however, Stevie realized this was no cavern. They were in a tunnel, and it was man made.

Chapter Ten

As before, the bubble vanished as they emerged. Treading water, Stevie looked around and discovered they were in a bay beside a sprawling city. “Where are we?”

“Atalantium.”

Stevie turned to look at the man—merman—who’d brought her.

He smiled faintly, as if amused. “I am a man. I am Thor.”

“Thor. You’re the … uh … the one Adonis spoke of?”

He tilted his head, lifting his brows. “I can not reach beyond Atalantium. I do not know.”

Stevie frowned, wondering what he meant by that.

Without another word, he scooped her into his arms and rose from the water. Stevie gasped as they went airborne, clutching his neck. Obligingly, he dove, skimming just above the surface of the water. Within moments, much to Stevie’s relief, they neared the distant shore she’d seen upon emerging from the tunnel and alighted on a dock.

A woman rose from a stone bench near the dock and came toward them, smiling.

“Welcome, Stephanie.”

“Everyone calls me Stevie,” Stevie responded, feeling more than a little awkward as she peeled herself loose from Thor.

“You do not like flying either, I see. I am Alexis, wife of Thor.”

Stevie took another step away from the giant of a man. “I was … yes, actually no. I really don’t object to flying. I’d just rather do it in a plane.”

The woman laughed. “You are far safer in the arms of the Guardian than you would ever be in a plane.”

Faintly, an infant’s wail drifted down to them. At once, Thor’s head came up. He bowed courteously, but abruptly. “If you will excuse me, my son calls,” he said with a faint smile and departed.

Stevie stared after him as he trotted quickly up the stairs that led up from the dock to a stone manor that fronted the water. Alex smiled at her expression. “It’s his turn.”

“What?”

“To attend our son. Never mind that. Where are my manners? You poor thing! Your poor face. Come. I have made a room ready for you. I will send for a physician to see to your injuries.”

Numbly, Stevie allowed Alexis to lead her into the house, but she paused on the steps, looking back in the direction they had come from.

“A month will pass before you know it.”

Stevie looked at her questioningly.

“Adonis.”

Stevie blushed. “I was just thinking about how well hidden this place is. No one would ever know it was here.”

Alexis grinned. “Oh. I thought, maybe, you were thinking about Adonis.”

“I suppose you read minds too?” Stevie said with thinly veiled hostility.
Alexis sighed. “No. I’m an outworlder, as you are. I can not. But I’m pretty good at reading people.”

Stevie was feeling more than a little ill by the time they’d entered the house and climbed the stairs. Ordinarily, she would have objected to being led around as if she had no mind of her own, but she didn’t feel up to it at the moment. It was rather—nice--she thought, to be fussed over. No one had since her mother had died, and she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed it.

Not that Alexis was even nearly old enough to be her mother. As far as she could see, they must be nearly the same age.

She had a million and one questions to ask, but discovered she could not find the energy to ask them once Alexis had helped her to the bedroom and urged her to lie down. She was just far too exhausted after everything that had happened.

She awoke sometime later to find an older man peering down at her. Startled, she tensed to leap from the bed. Before she could do more than tense, however, he touched her forehead and all fear drained from her, all will. She remained aware of his movements, but could not summon the desire to object as he examined her from head to toe. When he was finished, he touched her head once more and she knew nothing else.

The next time she woke, the room was bright with sunlight. Alexis bustled into the room, carrying a tray.

Pleasure suffused her as she saw the food. Her stomach leapt to immediate attention, trying to gnaw a hole through her backbone. She sat up groggily, more than a little puzzled to see that she was no longer wearing her clothing, but had on instead a thin robe. Realizing she’d undoubtedly been too sleepy to remember having been helped out of her wet clothing and into something to sleep in, she dismissed it, smiling at Alexis gratefully. “Thank you! I’m starving. I feel like I haven’t eaten in a week.”

Alexis shrugged. “You haven’t, you poor thing. But the physician said you needed rest to heal. Unfortunately, you can’t leap right into ‘normal’ food, but I brought you the most appetizing foods I could gather.”

Stevie took the tray, settling it on her knees. “It looks wonderful! You were kidding, right? I couldn’t possibly have slept that long.”

Alexis sat on the edge of the bed. She looked around a little guiltily, then leaned forward and whispered. “Close your eyes. I have a very nice surprise for you.”

Stevie looked at her a little questioningly, but obediently closed her eyes. She felt the bed shift and then something was placed on the top of her head. She opened her eyes, lifted a hand to feel it. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t ‘think’ the word if I tell you.”

Her secretiveness made Stevie uncomfortable. “I’ll do my best, but I don’t understand what this is all about.”

“Atalanteans are telepaths. Didn’t Adonis tell you?”

“All of them?” Stevie asked, aghast.

Alexis nodded. “This will protect you from pretty much any ‘intrusions’. Inside the house, of course, you really don’t have much to worry about. Most of them can not penetrate stone—and of course they wouldn’t really try, anyway. I mean, they don’t hear your thoughts on purpose. It’s just the way they communicate, so they think you’re ‘speaking’ to them. Do you understand?”

“Not exactly. Why do they only communicate by telepathy? I mean, I know why Adonis did at first. We were underwater. But he always talked, or pretty much did, except for then.”

“The world has ‘ears’. Talking is frowned upon because there is always a chance it could be detected by outworlders.”

“Oh. Does that mean we shouldn’t talk … at all?” she asked, dismayed at the thought.

“No. It is fine to talk quietly. Even Atalateans do occasionally. The outworlders here certainly do. It is just frowned upon to chatter idly, and certainly not well received to talk loudly.”

Stevie settled back to eat the food Alexis had brought her. “How long have you been here?”

Alexis frowned. “Only a couple of months, actually. This last time. Adonis rescued me when I was thrown overboard. I would’ve drowned out there if it wasn’t for him. I felt so badly when he was banished.”

Stevie flushed, and then turned pale. “It was because of you?”

“I’d like to say no, but unfortunately, the answer is yes, indirectly speaking. It’s forbidden to bring outworlders here, you understand, without the express consent of the council and Adonis didn’t ask it. He just brought me.”

Stevie frowned, discovering she’d lost her appetite. “He was in love with you, wasn’t he?”

Alexis blushed. “Of course not!” She frowned. “It’s a little hard to explain, but I think he was just lonely. They are not allowed to choose mates within Atalantium any longer. They’ve been here so long, you see, cut off from the outside world, and the council finally decreed that there was too much inbreeding. It was weakening the race. So, when he rescued me, I think he had an idea that I was sort of ‘spoils of war’ or something of that nature.”

“Oh.”

Alexis took her hand. “He did not love me. I swear it. And I love only Thor.”

“It’s all right. It’s not like we’re in love or anything.”

Alexis studied her thoughtfully. “It’s no use lying to yourself, you know.”

Stevie glared at her.

“All right! I know. It’s none of my business.”

“I don’t mean to be rude, but you’re right. It isn’t.”

Alexis rose from the bed. “I’ll send our maid, Moira, up. She can help you with your bath and find something for your to wear.”

“I think I can manage on my own, thank you.”

Alexis paused at the door, studying her. “He loves you, Stevie. He risked the council’s wrath to petition to bring you here to protect you.”

Stevie thought for several moments that she would burst into tears. She managed to hold them back, barely. When Alexis had gone, she wiped her eyes angrily, breathing slow, deep breaths. “God save me from matchmakers,” she muttered fiercely.

She almost fainted when she tried to get up. Subsiding on the edge of the bed, she reconsidered Alexis’ statement that she’d lain sleeping for a week. Her whole body felt as if it had turned to gelatin, as if her muscles were weak and lax from little use.

It was possible that the traumatic events leading up to her arrival in Atalantium had left her weak and listless, but not terribly likely.

And it was still easier to believe that than to think she’d lain practically comatose for a week, only because someone had touched her forehead.

She remembered that much. She remembered drifting away when he’d told her to sleep. It must be something like hypnotism.

When she finally managed to make it to the mirror that sat on the vanity across the room, she simply stared at her reflection, dumbfounded. Her bruises were already beginning to disappear. If not for the slight swelling and the ugly discoloration, she might have thought none of it had happened at all, for there was almost no soreness to speak of.

She sat on the bench abruptly. She’d lost an entire week of her life. What had happened in the outside world in that time? Had they found the bodies of the men who’d taken her out to kill her?

She shuddered at the memory, but then realized that the distance of time had already softened the horror of it. Or, perhaps, it wasn’t the sleep at all? Maybe he hadn’t merely made her sleep? Maybe he’d planted some suggestion in her mind to soothe away the horrors she’d seen and experienced?

What sort of powers did these people possess? She wondered uneasily.

There was a soft tap on the door. She turned. “Yes?”

A young girl, who looked to be around fifteen or sixteen entered the room. She blushed when she saw Stevie was looking at her curiously. “I am Moira,” she said softly. “Madam sent me to help.”

“Madam?” Stevie echoed, feeling more than a little disoriented, as if she’d woken to find herself in a different time. The girl was dressed in a loose fitting, flowing gown, so gauzy it was almost transparent. Her feet were clad in jute sandals. Even her attitude of servitude belonged to another age. “Are you … uh … a slave?”

Moira stared at her a long moment and began to giggle. She shook her head. “I am daughter of Athena, of the lower council. Our customs seem strange to you?”

“That’s an understatement,” Stevie said wryly.

Moira nodded, but Stevie had a feeling she hadn’t really understood the comment. “You will grow accustomed.” She crossed the room to a small door Stevie had noticed earlier but had not had the chance to explore. It opened, she saw, onto a modern bath, a very modern bath, she discovered when she followed the girl into the room. In a way, the fixtures looked very archaic, but the mechanics of the bath was like nothing Stevie had ever seen.

There was no water, for one thing. When Moira stepped up to what looked to be a shower stall, she merely stood a moment, seemingly staring into space, and a fine particle mist emerged from every direction. Moira thrust her hand into the mist and then turned. “You must tell me if this temperature is comfortable to you.”

Stevie crossed the room and cautiously placed her hand under the ‘spray’. She had no idea what it was, but it wasn’t water. It felt wonderful, however, pulsing against her hand, warm, cleansing. “What is it?”

Moira smiled. “To clean.”

“But what is it?”

Moira shook her head. “I could not explain. It will do you no harm.”

Finally, Stevie shrugged, ushered the girl from the room and undressed. When she emerged some twenty minutes later, she saw that Moira had departed, leaving a gown similar to the one she’d been wearing herself.

Stevie stared at it, reluctant to wear anything that sheer. On the other hand, her own clothing had disappeared as had the robe she’d been wearing when she woke. Finally, deciding she might just as well get used to what seemed to be the typical attire of Atalanteans, she donned the robe. She felt weak enough after the exertion of eating and bathing to consider going back to bed, but only briefly. She would not get her strength back lying in the bed. She needed to be up and stirring around.

She found Alexis in the garden outside, sitting on a blanket with an infant.

She was tempted to return to her room, but the infant wasn’t currently howling. As she hesitated in the doorway, undecided, she lost her chance to escape gracefully.

Alexis looked up and smiled a welcome.

“Feeling better?”

Stevie nodded. “Much. Thank you. You have a beautiful home,” she added as she moved into the garden and took a seat on a bench.

“I can’t take credit for it. It was Thor’s home long before I came.”

Stevie was surprised. Apparently, it showed.

Alexis chuckled. “It’s all a little hard to take in, isn’t it? I know I had a hard time when I first came. Atalanteans seem a mass of contradictions. It’s not really surprising, though, once you begin to understand their mind set and who and what they are. On the one hand, they’re steeped in traditions, clinging to some customs that are so ancient and uncivilized they’re almost baffling. On the other--well they love things of beauty—art, sculpture—but they’re also fascinated with the wonders of science and technology. Since time is immaterial to them, they have a tendency to collect what they like best from every age, even the distant future.”

“The bath?”

Alexis frowned. “I think Thor said they brought that technology from around 2053. But then they really prefer the art of ancient Greece, so they sort of combined the two…. Or, at least Thor did. I suppose everyone here uses similar technology for hygiene. Water, water everywhere, but not a drop to drink!”

Stevie looked at her questioningly.

“The ocean. It surrounds us, but they have to desalinize it for use. Even with their technology, it takes a good bit of energy and effort. Naturally, they limit its usage to growing food, and for drinking water. Disposing of waste is also a prime consideration.”

“It’s something like the biosphere then?”

Alexis nodded. The infant let out a newborn wail at just that moment. More of a whimper, actually. Alexis smiled and lifted him from the blanket. He promptly fell to nuzzling her breasts, obviously in search of food. Alexis stroked his cheek, chuckling, and promptly bared her breast.

Embarrassed, Stevie looked away, tempted to jump to her feet and leave. She supposed it might look rude, however.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“Its strange how quickly you can get used to it—breast feeding, I mean. I never pictured myself doing it. Actually, I never pictured myself as a mother.”

“Me either. To tell you the truth, I don’t think I have any of the instincts.”

“You might surprise yourself. I know I did.”

Stevie saw no point in arguing. Obviously, she had little in common with Alexis, whatever she said.

Alexis smiled knowingly at her. Stevie found it very irritating.

“Thor told me today that the council has set the date for testing three days hence.”

“Excuse me?”

Alexis rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m starting to talk like them, aren’t I? Friday, I think. We don’t really keep up with the days so I have a hard time figuring it out sometimes.”

Stevie shook her head. “Testing?”

“Adonis didn’t tell you?”

Stevie felt a surge of uneasiness. “I was sort of busy trying to stay alive right up to the point when he arrived. And he was too busy hacking people up, apparently, to remember to mention it,” she said dryly. “What tests?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing. Really. On my honor!”

Stevie couldn’t help but smile. “Your honor?”

Alexis blushed. “As I said, they rub off on you. You wait and see. Before you’ve been here two months, you’ll be picking it up too…. I meant, I swear it! I was terrified myself, picturing all sorts of horrible things.”

“Is it forbidden even to give me a hint?”

“Oh no! I’m sorry. Mostly it’s like tests to see how powerful your gifts are. They do some pretty standard blood tests, to map your genes, but nothing terribly intrusive. Mostly, they want to be sure that you have the gifts, without being too genetically similar … I’m confusing you, aren’t I?”

“Infinitely.”

“The gifts—telepathy to some degree—empathy—telekinesis—and so forth. They don’t expect to find more than traces of any of them, because we outworlders haven’t selectively bred for them as the Atalanteans have, but even a trace indicates a closer kinship to them. They want to introduce fresh ‘blood’, not water down and lose those traits they find highly desirable.”

Stevie stood abruptly. “What, exactly, did Adonis tell the council about me?”

“That you had the same gift as I do, the ability to block your thoughts. It’s akin to telepathy. It means you have more control than people generally do who’re unaware of telepathy. It’s a trace gift.”

Interesting as that was, Stevie wasn’t currently in any mood to learn more about it. She shook her head. “I’m not talking about that. I meant, the breeding thing. I am not here to breed, or be bred, damn it! I’m a human being, not a fucking breed mare!”

Alexis brows rose. “No one said you were.”

“If I’m not, then why does any of that matter?”

“It matters, Stevie, because you may find someday that you feel differently than you do now. If you stay, there is always the chance that you will decide to marry and have a family. If there’s even a possibility of it, and there is, whatever you believe right now, then you must be acceptable to the community.”

Stevie stared at her a long moment, gnawing her inner cheek. “Then, Adonis didn’t … say anything about choosing me?”

Alexis looked away, apparently distracted by the infant. She didn’t look up again until she had switched the baby to her other breast. “He said you had refused him. But that you would be an asset to the community and that he knew you had the gift, for you had called to him, linked telepathically with him so that he knew, no matter how far away, when you needed him.”

Chapter Eleven

The testing was not the ordeal that Stevie had envisioned, despite Alexis’ reassurances. She was allowed to wear the band that Alexis had given her to protect her from telepathic intrusion when she was taken before the council. Alexis told her it was because of her own ‘difficulties’ when she had been taken before the council. She had not been able to control her emotions and had embarrassed and angered pretty much everyone. Aurora, the high councilor, had decided after that incident that it would be wiser, and kinder, for all concerned if Atalanteans were protected from the brutal honesty of outworlders’ thoughts.

She was found acceptable and invited to remain if she pleased.

Stevie wasn’t certain how she felt about staying.

She supposed it really depended upon how she felt about being around Adonis after everything that had passed between them, and she wouldn’t know how she felt about that until he returned.

About a week after she had spoken with the council, she was summoned to Aurora’s chambers for a private interview. She was not prepared for what Aurora had to tell her.

“Please, sit down, child.”

Uneasy about the purpose of the visit, Stevie had remained by the door after the servant who’d brought her had closed the door behind her. She looked at the couch the older woman indicated and finally moved across the room and perched on the edge of the seat.

“Have you decided whether you will stay or not?”

Stevie relaxed fractionally. “It’s not something so easily decided.”

“I was led to believe your life would be forfeit if you remained in your own world.”

Stevie shrugged. “Possibly.” She sighed. “Most likely. There’s always the possibility that Carlos would eventually forget about me and move on to a vendetta against someone else, but I’m not sure how likely that scenario is. It’s also possible that, given his choice of profession, someone might eliminate him to take over his territory, but even if they did, it would probably be too late to make any difference to me.”

“And yet, you are undecided?”

“It’s hard to give up everything and everyone you’ve ever known. Even my career.”

Aurora spread her hands wide. “There is no reason for you to give up your career. I am a scientist myself. Granted, I barely dabble in it anymore, but I entirely understand your quest for knowledge, child. Once you have made your decision, you will be allowed to come and go as you please, to continue your research. Until that time, however, we can not risk it. I am sure you understand.”

Stevie nodded. In truth, she hadn’t fretted over it. She supposed her experiences at sea had, at least temporarily, dampened her enthusiasm. Mostly, however, it was because she was consumed by some nameless apathy, an unaccustomed state of confused emotions, indecisiveness.

Aurora studied her thoughtfully for some moments and finally sighed. “We discovered something when we ran the tests on you and I have meditated for some time over whether or not it was my place to tell you. I feel, however, that it is something that will create a good deal of confusion for you and that it is for the best for all concerned if we discuss this.”

Stevie was taken aback. “Something about my tests?”

Aurora leaned forward, grasping Stevie’s hands. “You carry Adonis’ child.”

Stevie could not have been more stunned if Aurora had suddenly sucker punched her. She thought for several moments that she was going to faint. The world around her spun, darkened. With an effort, she fought the urge to give in to oblivion. “What?” she asked stupidly.

“I made certain that none knew save myself. I did not wish to place a burden upon you that you could not bear … or one upon Adonis that would cause him pain. Alexis tells me you feel very firmly against motherhood.”

Stevie could only stare at her. There was a ringing in her ears. She couldn’t seem to hear anything except her own breath roaring in and out of her chest. “You mean pregnant? You’re saying I’m pregnant? I can’t be. It’s not possible.”

A frown of concern crossed Aurora’s brow. Reaching up, she traced a fingertip lightly across Stevie’s brow. “Peace, child.”

Strangely, she’d no more than spoken the words than the thunderous pounding of Stevie’s heart began to subside. Calmness swept through her, almost as if she was drifting to sleep, except she felt strangely clear headed.

“If you do not wish to keep this child, I can arrange to abort the pregnancy. Adonis need never know.”

Stevie blinked at her, feeling as if she were awakening from a dream. “I don’t think I understand.”

“He loves you. It would destroy him to know that you did not wish to bear his child, but if you do not feel that you could mother his child, bear it with joy and rear it in love, then it is not right for either you or the child to allow it to be born. I only want to do what is best for both of you and for the child.”

“I was told I couldn’t bear children,” Stevie said numbly. “Years ago. After the wreck. They said there was scarring.”

Aurora shrugged. “There are times when nature finds a way. Only God knows all. We humans must simply make our best guess, and we are often wrong.”

“I don’t know what I want to do. I’d never expected the question to arise. You’re certain your test was right? Maybe it was a mistake?”

“There was no mistake.” Aurora released Stevie’s hands and sat back, studying her. “It is not so easy a decision for you then?”

“I just can’t think. I need to think.”

Aurora nodded. “I can give you three days to make your decision, but no more. Adonis will be returning soon.”

Stevie’s eyes widened. “How soon?”

“In a se’n night.”

“You mean a week?” Stevie jumped to her feet and headed for the door. She stopped when she reached it, however, and turned to look at Aurora. “What is it? The baby? Do you know?”

“A female child.” Aurora smiled. “Adonis would rejoice to know you were to bear him a daughter.”
“He would be pleased to have a girl? I thought … wouldn’t a warrior want a boy?’

“He would be overjoyed to have a child of either sex,” Aurora said with a chuckle. “But his love for you would make a child in your image even more precious to him.”

As Stevie closed the door behind her and started down the long hallway outside of Aurora’s apartment, she thought about Adonis as she’d last seen him, standing in the boat with sword raised … like a wrathful Neptune rising from the sea.

She was carrying Neptune’s daughter.

Chapter Twelve

Stevie realized after the second day of consideration that she was not going to be able to decide whether to terminate her pregnancy or not. Too much had happened to her, too many traumatic events piled one upon another, and she realized that she was in no state of mind to make such an important decision. No matter what she decided one moment, in the next she had thought of something she needed to add to the plus column, or the negative column.

Finally, she returned to Aurora having made no decision at all but to allow nature to take its course. It was impossible to make a sound judgment anyway based upon a subject one did not believe in the first place.

“You have come to a decision?” Aurora asked gently.

“I couldn’t. Despite what you told me—and don’t get me wrong, I believe you told me what you believed to be the case—I just haven’t been able to accept that I am pregnant, especially when I was told years ago that the chances were slim to none that I would ever conceive, much less bear, a child.”

“I can not give you more time. I understand that much has happened to you and that this is not a good time for you to try to make such an important decision. But I will have no hand in it unless we do it now. I know Adonis. I know what this would do to him, even if he did not love you. The gift of a child is so rare among us that it is something cherished above all else. If we proceeded now, I could take the memory from you and Adonis would never find it in your thoughts. There is no guarantee that I could do so once he is among us again, and I will not risk it. I am willing to bear the burden of guilt for it alone, to save you three from pain, but I will do nothing to bring pain and suffering to any of you.”

Stevie stared at her, feeling her heart thud dully in her chest with an unidentifiable pain. “Take the memory?” she echoed, realizing quite suddenly that she could not bear the thought of not even remembering that she had once held a life inside of her. To forget its very existence seemed worse than flushing the tiny seed from her body—even though she knew it could not possibly be more than a cluster of living cells now.

“We are all telepathic, but the--‘voice’ if you will—is stronger in some of us than others. It happens some times that an event is too hurtful to be kept and so we pluck the memory from the mind. It is what we do when outworlders decide they will not stay. We pull the memory of Atalantium from their mind so that they can not betray us, whether intentional or not.”

“So, if I decided not to stay, I wouldn’t remember—any of this? Not even Adonis?”

Aurora nodded, although sadness filled her eyes. “We could not allow it. In some cases, it is a blessing to those who go, no memories to cause heartache. For those of us who remain, the memory remains. Adonis would remember you.”

For several moments, anguish threatened to overwhelm her. It gave her no comfort at all to imagine herself, free of any memories that might cause her pain, going about her life as if none of this had ever happened and leaving Adonis to bear it alone.

That was always assuming he cared, and despite what both Aurora and Alexis had told her she was a long way from being convinced of it.

“I’m not sure I can stay. If it’s true that you can do this, then there couldn’t be any harm in allowing me to stay a few weeks more to decide whether I feel like I could become accustomed to living in your world, surely?”

“I will allow it.”

Stevie relaxed fractionally. “I’ve decided to just let nature take its course. It’s not a decision I can make myself, but, given what I was told, even if I have conceived, I doubt I’ll be able to carry it to full term. If I do, then I’ll do my best to learn to be a good mother and hope I’ve got the instincts. If not … well at least it won’t be my fault.”

Aurora smiled, shaking her head. “You can not doubt that we have the technology to preserve the life of your child? If necessary, we could grow it in an artificial womb, though I find nature is far better than technology when it comes to human life. As for your fears--You may not believe you have the instincts, but I think you will find that you do. And you will find the love you bear for Adonis is as strong for his child.”

A blush crept into Stevie’s cheeks. “I’m not in love with Adonis. I’m fond of him, but, to tell you the truth, I’ve never believed there was any such thing, as ‘falling in love’.”

“You can not analyze love with your mind. There is no logic to it. You may tally up your columns of plus and negative ad infinum, and it will not change what is in your heart. If you did not love him it would cause you no pain to consider his. You might feel regret, shame or guilt, to cause pain to another human being, but it would not bring such a great welling of grief.”

Stevie reddened. “I never said….” She reached up to check the band that Alexis had given her and was somewhat relieved to discover it was still in place.

“I do not need to read your mind, child. I can see it in your face,” Aurora said gently.

* * * *

Stevie found, as she counted down the days until Adonis returned that the closer the time came, the deeper she sank into pure terror. One moment she was afraid he wouldn’t come to see her at all and the next she was scared to death he would and that she wouldn’t be able to think of anything at all to say. Or, almost as bad, she would see he felt nothing more than friendly affection toward her now that he’d returned to his own people.

Like the abject emotional coward she was, she finally decided to simply put it from her mind. It wasn’t her decision to make. Adonis would come, or not. She would deal with it when she had to.

The morning Moira arrived in her room to announce that she had a visitor waiting for her in the garden, Stevie had a panic attack. She stared at Moira as if the girl had just announced that her executioners awaited. Gasping for air, her heart thundered in her chest and against her eardrums until blackness began to swim before her eyes.

“I’m not feeling at all well,” she managed to gasp out, turning over in the bed. Closing her eyes, she covered her head with the bed sheet and concentrated on trying to breathe more slowly.

After a moment, Moira left.

The moment she did, Stevie’s panic magnified tenfold. If it was Adonis, and Moira told him Stevie wasn’t well, what would he think? Would he think she just didn’t want to see him?

She didn’t have time to progress too deeply into her ‘what if’ scenario. The door to her room slammed open. She heard footsteps and the next moment the sheets were snatched from her head. She looked up at Alexis’ furious face with abject terror.

Alexis grabbed her arms and hauled her upright, giving her a shake. “You are NOT going to cower up here like a coward and make me send him away!”

“Him?” Stevie managed faintly.

“Adonis. Didn’t Moira tell you?”

“She said I had a visitor.”

“You knew it was Adonis! You’ve been pacing the floor for days waiting for his return. You have worn my rugs down to threads. Don’t tell me you didn’t know it was him.”

“I can’t do it. Not right now. I’ll talk to him later. Tell him to come back.”

Alexis’ lips tightened. “He will not. If I tell him you won’t see him, he’ll know it’s because you won’t have him.”

“I don’t see why,” Stevie objected. “Just telling him I’m not feeling well. Really, I’m not.”

“I’m not going to lie to him for you,” Alexis said tightly. “You can at least have the guts to go down there and tell him yourself.”

Stevie stared at the reverberating door after Alexis left.

Moira would tell him she wasn’t feeling well. When he came back, after she had time to get used to the idea, then she would speak to him. Then she’d find out if he really did care about her or not and she could decide whether to stay in Atalantium, or take her chances and go home.

Memories flooded into her mind, however, as if a dam had burst and she had nothing to hold them back—memories of each time before when she had brushed him off, or turned him away, or just made a joke when he’d told her he loved her. Would he come back again if she wouldn’t even see him? Or, would he think, as he had before, that he’d disgusted her because he’d lost control? Would he think she was afraid of him because he had killed to protect her?

He might.

He probably would.

Galvanized, Stevie leapt from the bed. She didn’t stop to comb her hair, or change. The robe she slept in, in truth, was as modest as anything else she’d been given to wear since she’d been in Atalantium. It wasn’t like anyone else would see her, or that they would think anything of it if they did. Half the people of Atalantium wore nothing at all. Those who did didn’t wear clothing to cover themselves, but rather to adorn, as they wore jewelry.

Even if that wasn’t the case, she wasn’t currently in the mood to worry about it too much. She flew from the room and down the stairs as fast as she could, arriving at the foot of the stairs breathless, wild eyed.

Alexis was just closing the door to the garden. She looked up at the sound of Stevie’s pounding feet on the stairs. “He left.”

Stevie stared at her. “Left?” she echoed, unable to get her mind around the word.

“He’s gone.”

Without another word, Stevie rushed across the hallway and out of the door to the garden, looking around. Seeing no sign of him, she ran across the garden to the gate that let out onto the street and fumbled with the gate latch. Finally, she managed to release the latch, flung the gate open and dashed into the street.

She saw him then, striding down the street, rapidly disappearing. “Wait!” she shouted, uncaring that raising one’s voice was forbidden, only vaguely aware of the residents that poked their heads out of windows up and down the street and glared at her admonishingly. “Adonis!”

He stopped abruptly, turning slowly to look back at her.

The expression on his face made her heart clench in pain. It was as if someone had thrust their hand into her chest and squeezed it. It took an effort to drag air into her lungs. Her legs felt stiff and uncooperative as she took a step toward him, and then another. She ignored it, forcing herself to take one step after another, faster, and faster until she was running.

He opened his arms to her as she reached him. Her momentum might have knocked another man down. Adonis grunted at the impact as she flung herself against him, took a step back, but his arms came around her tightly. Stevie was sobbing so hard she couldn’t speak. She didn’t know when she’d begun crying—she couldn’t even remember the last time she had allowed herself to cry—but she couldn’t hold it in. She couldn’t stop. She struggled to speak. “Don’t leave. Please don’t. I love you.”

Adonis’ arms tightened around her until she thought she couldn’t breathe. “Do not cry, dear heart. I will cry too and then everyone will believe I am a man who likes men.”

Stevie emitted a sound half way between a sob and a laugh and pulled away. “No one in their right mind would mistake you for a gay man!”

His smile was a little lopsided. “Nevertheless.” He brushed the tears from her cheeks and cupped her face. “I have missed you.”

“Did you?”

He nodded slowly. “It is more difficult to live without my heart than I ever imagined.”

Stevie touched his chest. “Does that mean you love me?” she asked shyly.

“If I tell you again will you believe me this time?”

Stevie smacked her palm against his chest impatiently. “I might deserve this, but I don’t think I can handle it. Tell me, damn it!”

He chuckled. “Until the end of time, my heart is yours. I love you with every breath I take.”

Stevie buried her face against his chest. “I don’t know why,” she murmured. “I’ve been so … mean.”

Adonis sighed. “There is no rhyme or reason to it.”

She nipped his bare chest with her teeth.

“Ouch!” he exclaimed dutifully, pulling away from her slightly and forcing her to look up into his laughing face. “Why did you do that?”

“You know why, you ass.”

His expression became one of innocence. “I do not.”

“Yes, you do!”

He laughed. “I love you because … you are you.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Because I can not help it?”

Stevie pulled away from him, crossing her arms. “You don’t know why, do you?”

He lifted a hand, caressing her cheek. “I know that my heart is yours. I know that it never belonged to anyone else, and never will. I know that I am happy only when you are with me.”

Stevie sighed, wrapping her arms around him again. “Let’s go home.”

“You want to go back?” he asked carefully.

She shook her head. “Your home … our home. I’m moving in.”

He chuckled. Pulling away from her, he wrapped one arm around her, tucking her against his side. “Come, then. I will show you our home.”

Epilogue

“It’s beautiful,” Stevie murmured without much interest, barely sparing a glance around the room before giving Adonis a shove. He toppled backwards onto the mound of cushions piled on the long, back-less couch. Pulling the robe off over her head, she tossed it aside and followed him down, familiarizing herself with his body again by stroking his arms, his chest, his belly, following the path of her hands with her mouth and tongue.

Adonis was fully erect by the time her exploring hands reached down and cupped his sex, gently massaging his testicles before she encircled his erection with her fingers and began stroking his cock, slowly, up and down.

He groaned, grasping her on either side of the head and pulling her down to him, capturing her mouth with his own. She opened her mouth to him, moaning appreciatively as his tongue sought hers, stroking, gliding caressingly over the sensitive inner flesh.

Without any further preliminaries she straddled him, guiding his cock past the barrier to her body, rubbing the head of it against her clit briefly and finally aligning their bodies, pushing back slowly until she felt his cock deep inside of her. He reached down to cup her buttocks, pushing her deeper still, holding her there for several moments before he urged her upwards.

“Mmm. It feels so good to have your cock inside me,” Stevie groaned. “My body was made for you, a perfect fit.”

His face hardened with desire. He held himself stiffly for several moments, gritting his teeth. “Do not speak. I can … not … hold it.”

Watching him, Stevie moved very deliberately, rotating her hips.

A groan was wrenched from him. His face contorted, as if he was in agony. He gripped her hips tightly, trying to still her movements, gasping for air as he fought for control. “It has been too long.”

“Mmm. Weeks. I’ve done nothing but imagine how good it feels when you slide your hard cock inside of me. It made he hot and wet only thinking about it.” She leaned closer, whispering. “At night, when I couldn’t sleep, I’d pull my gown off and lay naked in the bed, caressing my breasts and pretending it was you. And then I would slide my hand down and cup my sex, slipping a finger inside of me….”

With a growl, Adonis came upright. Gripping her, he began to thrust hard, deep, fast, lifting her hips, then grinding her down against him hard so that the folds of flesh parted, her clit rubbing against the faintly abrasive hair that surrounded his cock each time he pumped inside of her. Wrapping her arms around his neck, Stevie released a long, low moan as she felt her body begin to quake, racing toward release. The sound, or the clenching muscles of her belly, or both, sent him over the edge. He groaned from deep in his chest. She felt heat flood her sex, felt his cock jerk against clit and inside of as he came. It touched off her own orgasm, saturating her with mindless bliss.

She went limp against him as it passed through her, fighting for air.

He recovered first, relaxing, his head bowed against her shoulder. After a moment, he tried to pull away.

She wouldn’t allow it, clinging tightly. “That felt so good … wonderful. I love the way you make love to me.”

Adonis looked up at her, surprise evident in his expression, shame still mingling with it. “I pleased you?”

“Oh yes you did.”

He looked a little doubtful for several moments. “I was not too quick?”

Stevie chuckled. “You don’t think for one moment I’d allow you to leave me behind, do you? I was way ahead of you. If I hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have been trying so hard to push you over the edge.”

Relieved, he lay back against the cushions, pulling her with him. Stevie lay bonelessly on top of him, drifting dreamily as he stroked her back. “I know you do not believe in marriage,” he said finally.

Stevie stiffened, but said nothing, waiting breathlessly, hopefully.

“But it would please me, very much, if you would be my wife.”

“When?” she murmured.

He tensed. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

He pulled away, studying her face. She opened her eyes to look at him.

“You mean this? You will do it?”

Stevie smiled faintly. “Only because I love you.”

He studied her a moment longer and pulled her tightly against him.

She thought about what Aurora had told her, debated briefly with herself about whether or not to tell him and finally decided, whatever happened, he had the right to know. “I don’t know any pretty way to phrase this … I’m pregnant.”

Adonis stiffened, then sat bolt upright, dumping her off on the couch beside him.

“What?”

“Pregnant. As in, bun in the oven? Baby.”

His face lit with excitement, then fell just as quickly. “It is for this reason that you agreed to wed?”

Stevie sighed. “I knew you’d think that. No! It is not for that reason. I’m a big girl. I can have a baby without a husband.”

He still looked more than a little doubtful.

“I decided to marry you because I love you, you big dummy!”

He looked taken aback for several moments, then a smile teased at his lips. “That is no way to speak to your lord and master.”

Stevie glared at him. “Lord and master, my ass!”

He grinned, grabbing a buttock with each hand and dragging her down on top of him once more. “Yes. My ass.”

The End

So you like sexy mermen? The following is an excerpt from Kaitlyn O’Connor’s upcoming September release, BELOW.

And, for those of you who may have missed Marie Morin’s first book in the Atlantis series, BRIDE OF ATLANTIS, we’ve included an excerpt following the passage from BELOW. We hope that you’ll watch for her third and final book in the Atlantis series, MAIDEN OF ATLANTIS, scheduled for release in October 2003

BELOW

BY

Kaitlyn O’Connor

Chapter One

It might almost have been Earth. The globe below them was awash with ocean--- 80% to be precise---but the glow from the red sun that sliced through its atmosphere gave the waters below the eerie look of blood….

“An ocean of blood.”

Victoria glanced sharply at Captain Huggins. Seated before her at the console, his back was to her as he divided his attention between the viewing screen and the readout from the vessel’s probes.

After a moment, she realized he wasn’t telepathic. It was only a coincidence that he’d voiced her own thoughts. An involuntary shiver skated along her spine as she returned her attention to the viewing screen.

“Creepy, eh, Tory?”

It took an effort to keep her upper lip from curling in distaste, but Victoria Anderson was a firm believer in self discipline. She kept her expression impassive. She didn’t turn to the speaker. There was no sense in encouraging the man. Not that he could be discouraged. “Chilled,” she lied succinctly.

However much she would’ve liked to dispute it, even to herself, she found the prospect below them unnerving.

“Right. Takes a bit to get the blood pumping after such a long hyber-sleep. I could warm you up a bit, if you’d like.”

This time Victoria didn’t bother to hide her distaste. “Do you mind?”

“Eh?” Jim Roach’s look was hopeful.

She gave him a plastic smile. “I’d like to hear the report.” She moved away from him, closer to the console where the captain was pulling up a report from the computer. “What’s it look like?”

He frowned, but didn’t turn. “A bit more than tolerable, I’d say.”

Victoria’s lips flattened. She could see enough of the report to tell that barely tolerable might be an understatement. “They said the conditions were acceptable.”

Captain Huggins threw her a quick glance before returning his attention to the report. “It’s livable, if not hospitable. The construction crews seemed to deal with the conditions without any problems. Anyway, you knew the information the company had was sketchy.”

A flash of anger, quickly quelled, went through Victoria. He was right. She’d accepted the assignment, knowing how the company was…knowing they hadn’t seen much beyond the find of the century. The crew’s survival was important to them, but only in terms of whether or not they survived long enough to mine the precious mineral that resided a scant 50 feet below that deceptively threatening surface.

It was deceptive, she told herself. Granted, this tiny system was at the very edge of the outer rim, light years from the beaten path. But several probes had been diverted to the planet to gather as much information as possible before the first landers were dispatched.

“You pick up on the beacon yet?” ‘Hugs’ Huggins asked his communications officer, Leigh Grant.

“Nothing…Too much interference. Wait.”

“You got something?”

“Yeah. Faint. There’s …Yes. Definitely. Looks like about 60 degrees starboard. Maybe 50 clicks. Good job, Hugs! You sat us down practically on top of it.”

‘Hugs’ looked anything but huggable, Victoria thought wryly. He was built in the general shape of a water bug….a pear shaped torso, arms and legs like skeletal remains

…no doubt from 40 years of shuttling around the galaxy and doing little beyond moving from his console to the hyber-chamber and back again. He’d probably spent two thirds of his life in hyper-sleep, which no doubt accounted for his youthful appearance. He didn’t look half his 68 years.

One would’ve thought the compliment would’ve pleased him, but he didn’t show it. In fact, he looked faintly alarmed.

Victoria felt another prickle of uneasiness as he glanced over his shoulder at the ground crew assembled behind him. His gaze finally settled on her. “You heard Grant. We’ll be docking shortly. Maybe you’d like to get your gear together.”

No way was Victoria going anywhere, but she could see his point.

“Roach. Get the crew below and ready the equipment for off loading.”

For a moment, he looked as if he would argue. Finally, he shrugged and gestured the crew out. He stopped as he reached the portal. “What about the tadpoles?”

Victoria’s lips tightened. Her eyes narrowed. “The what?”

He grinned, showing two rows of teeth in serious need of good hygiene…or maybe they were beyond that. “You know. The slugs. Fish.”

She strode over to him. “That’s not only distasteful, it’s stupid,” she said, keeping her voice low. “They’re human beings…”

“Half,” he corrected, obviously unrepentant.

Victoria gritted her teeth and counted to ten. “Genetically altered..”

Again he cut her off. “To be half fish.”

Victoria counted to twenty. “We have to work as a team, Roach, or this isn’t going to work at all. Once this crew leaves, we’re on our own, and we’ll need everybody…EVERYBODY to work together if we’re going to survive. I don’t give a damn what your personal opinion is of the project, or genetics in general. They’re telepathic, you fool. So you put that shit out of your head right now, and go down and tell the deep water CREW that we’re about to dock. You got that?”

“Yes, sir, chief! I mean, ma’am! ” He saluted her and marched out.

Victoria glared at his back as he left. Where the hell the company had dug him up from was a mystery to her. If he had any kind of specialty at all, it was in being a royal pain in the ass.

It was hell trying to work with morons. There were half a dozen surface crew members, including her and Roach; almost four times that number of genetically engineered deep water crew who, despite the company’s reassurances about their physiological stability, were an unknown quantity; they were about to be dropped on a rock that was virtually uncharted, were a bare minimum of six months from any rescue team; and Roach was hell bent on stirring up animosity before they’d even been dropped.

She’d been assigned to oversee the work, not baby sit, and certainly not referee. Six month’s duty began to seem like a long, long assignment.

Dismissing it, Victoria turned her attention to the more immediate problem, returning to her observation position. She knew they must be getting close to the rig by now. “Any response to the hail?”

Leigh shot a look at the captain. A silent communication passed between them. “Nothing yet,” she responded finally.

The by-play between them set Victoria’s teeth on edge. “I’m in charge of the mission. Do me the courtesy of responding directly to my questions.”

Again the silent communication between the two at the console. Apparently, they’d been flying together so long, telepathy wasn’t necessary.

“Dead air,” Captain Huggins replied shortly.

“Could they all be down below?”

“Not likely. There’s supposed to be a surface crew on duty at all times, unless a storm forces them under. The sky’s clear though.”

Victoria studied the sky skeptically. The atmosphere looked like mud from where she was standing. Dimly, in the distance, she caught a glimpse of shining metal. “There!”

Captain Huggins glanced at her and then followed the direction of her pointing finger. He frowned. “Looks like debris. Maybe they had a blow?”

They’d dropped low enough they were skimming little more than a few meters above the waves. Victoria saw now that there was an alarming amount of debris bobbing in the water. She focused her gaze on the horizon. “That’s it! Jesus Christ! What the hell!”

The habitat/mining rig had been under construction for over a year. The construction was to have been completed months ago. The last she’d heard, it had been reported 95% complete. Even from this distance, she could see it was a hell of a long way from that. Briefly, she wondered if somebody had just hedged on the numbers, or if it was even the main habitat she was looking at, but she realized fairly quickly that the size alone was evidence it could be nothing else.

It was the main rig all right, but something had battered the hell out of it.

Leigh shot a panicked glance at the captain. “Hurricane, you think?”

He shook his head. “Can’t tell at this distance.”

“They didn’t report anything?” Victoria demanded.

“We haven’t heard from the ground crew since mid-way,” Captain Huggins said reluctantly.

Victoria fought a round with her temper. “You’re saying we haven’t heard from anyone on the rig in six months and you didn’t think it was important enough to wake me up and tell me about it?”

Huggins spared a moment to glare at her. “It was reported to the company. The company checked it out and gave me a go.”

“Where’s the report?” she asked tightly.

“In your quarters.”

Victoria strode from the cockpit and down the corridor to her cabin. A ten minute search unearthed the one page report—make that one paragraph. ‘Communications tower down. Proceed. Report repairs.’

Victoria wadded the report into a ball. They didn’t have a damned clue of what they were walking in to.

The company had already sunk billions into the project and had yet to pull the first ton of ore. It wasn’t likely they were going to pull the plug for something that could easily be explained away as equipment malfunction. She should have known that.

They could’ve diverted a damned probe, though. If they’d bothered to, they would’ve seen it was a hell of a lot more than equipment failure. The communications tower wasn’t just down. It was gone.

Feeling a fluctuation in speed, Victoria took a deep breath and dismissed her frustration. Purposefulness took its place. They were going to be caught up in repairs for months. If there was any money to be made, she was going to have to get the crew into high gear the moment they off-loaded.

And there would be money. She was determined on that. With her pay plus the bonus they’d offered for every ton she brought in over quota, she’d be able to retire from the company within two years if she could make it through two tours here. Six on, six off and then another six on. After that, if she lived through it, she’d be able to pursue her dream, find a quiet little homestead on the back side of nowhere, raise just enough food to get by and concentrate on perfecting her skills in the arts—particularly her favorite, sculpting.

She was all too aware she didn’t have the talent to become a successful artist, which was why she’d accepted the fact that she’d have to earn a living and consider her art merely a hobby until she could afford to do otherwise. The upside to putting it on hold and building her retirement nest egg first was that it wouldn’t matter whether she was talented enough to make a living at it or not. She could do it for the sheer joy of it. If she sold anything, fine. If she didn’t, she was still going to be OK.

And she wouldn’t be stuck working for the damned company until they managed to get her killed on one of their low budget, high yield enterprises.

As usual, her focus on her ultimate goal brought her roiling sense of frustration under control. Leaving her quarters, she made her way down to the lower deck to check the crew’s progress.

As she strode along the upper corridor, something skated through her mind, almost as if someone had caressed her.

Victoria paused, looking around, certain at first that someone actually had touched her. She was alone, though.

Except in her mind.

Raphael.

Irritation surfaced. With an effort, she closed her mind to his inquisitive probing. He had no right to intrude on her private thoughts, but he was beginning to do it with increasing frequency. She wondered if that meant he was growing stronger, or….

She dismissed the thought.

The project had hinged on a revolutionary genetic experiment. Genetic manipulation was almost as old as space mining and colonization. It was the most practical way to go about both mining and terraforming. A ‘perfect’ world was one in a million, or maybe a billion. Most of the worlds they’d found were fairly close to useable, but certainly not prime real estate. Genetic manipulation allowed the companies to ‘acclimatize’ miners and terraformers to the conditions, which minimized the danger to the workers and, purely coincidentally, also lowered the company’s expenses, since they didn’t have to supply the workers with environmental suits. It also enabled workers to produce better since they weren’t hampered by bulky suits and oxygen tanks, another plus on the side of the company, who seemed to suffer no moral or ethical qualms about the fact that the workers that underwent the genetic manipulations were generally doomed to live out the remainder of their lives on the planet they were designed for since very few ever earned enough money to pay to be acclimatized to Earth’s conditions once more.

KAY2581, or Kay as they called the planet they were about to mine, had posed a unique challenge. The ore they’d discovered was only to be found beneath the plant’s oceans. That in itself was not the only problem, or even the main one. The planet was so far out it would’ve been economically unfeasible to mine due to the cost and time involved in getting workers and equipment to the planet.

Someone in the company had hatched the brilliant plan of developing the deep sea crew in vitro, en route. They’d accelerated the growth beyond anything ever attempted before, and arranged to ‘install’ education and behavioral modification via computer through minute chips implanted in the embryos’ brain stems.

Victoria was appalled. They might be genetically enhanced, but they were still human beings. It was just plain wrong to grow them completely in a tube, without any human contact whatsoever, without even the opportunity to ‘grow up’—no childhood, no family, no friends—no life experiences. They might have been nothing more than androids for all the consideration that was paid to their innate humanity and the rights they should have been able to expect.

Six months into the trip, they were to be turned out to begin learning to interact—but only with each other. Her and her crew would still be in stasis.

How could they be expected to be able to interact with humans that had not been genetically altered as they had, or even relate to them, under such circumstances?

Their psychological profiles were to be carefully monitored, but that had given her little comfort. She’d insisted her chamber be set to wake her periodically so that she could observe their progress herself, but she was a long way from being convinced that the company’s decision had been a wise one.

Her first few attempts to communicate with them had been stonewalled. They were supposed to be able to communicate with each other and the ground crew via telepathy, but she’d come to the conclusion that that little part of the experiment had been a complete bust… until she’d noticed Raphael.

It was hard not to notice Raphael. That wasn’t his ‘real’ name. The company, obviously deficit in the imagination department, had merely numbered the workers. But the moment she’d seen him she’d been captivated by the sheer beauty and symmetry he represented… on a purely artistic level naturally. The master, Raphael, one of the greatest creators of beauty of all time had come instantly to mind and from that moment on she had thought of him only as Raphael.

His perfection made it difficult to actually look directly at him, however, without going into a trance like state of admiration.

He’d noticed she had trouble looking directly at him. Unfortunately, he’d completely misinterpreted the reason for her discomfort. Somehow, she suspected that was one of the reasons he made no effort to hide his interest in her. He enjoyed making her squirm and, eventually, his preoccupation with her had led her to realize that the deep water crew was perfectly capable of communicating via telepathy. They simply had no interest in communicating with the two-legged humans.

As she reached the lower deck, Victoria’s gaze went automatically to the tank that took up the majority of the space. Glass surrounded most of the holding tank where more than half her crew had been packed in like sardines in a can.

She stopped abruptly at the thought, realizing it was a poor choice of metaphor under the circumstances.

It’s the right metaphor, said an amused voice in her head.

Her heart seemed to trip over itself. Raphael.

He glided to the glass, his lips curled faintly.

It took an effort to block his telepathic probing, but she had found that she could, so long as she was warned ahead of time that he would intrude. And, if he was looking at her, he was almost certainly probing her thoughts.

Victoria allowed herself a brief glimpse of him before she focused her gaze on a spot below his chin. She couldn’t help but wonder where they’d gotten his root stock. She had never in her life seen a man so perfectly, flawlessly the persona of male beauty. His facial features were lean, sharply detailed, almost angular, from the classic lines of his nose, to his high, prominent cheek bones, to the clean line of his jaw. The one, tiny imperfection was a noticeable cleft in his chin, but even that seemed to enhance his disturbing good looks.

His arms and torso were just as magnificent. He’d been designed for strength and stamina underwater and there was little doubt in her mind that he was muscular enough to handle pretty much any situation he was likely to encounter.

His male member was just as masterful and just as disturbing, if not more so, but Victoria didn’t delude herself that it was in any artistic sense. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was by accident, or design, that the scales that covered his lower body dipped under his phallus, almost seeming to frame it. Certainly, the effect made it impossible to ignore his endowment.

The females hadn’t been designed in such a way, only the males. Somehow, however, she’d never really found the other males quite so… disturbing, perhaps because they weren’t quite so well endowed?

Perhaps the strangest thing about her discomfort, however, was that she’d never found herself in a situation where nudity disturbed her. Nor could she put it down to lack of sexual experience. She had never really found a partner that inspired a lot of interest in it for her, but the company required employees to share sexual favors, not necessarily as recreation, but to cut down on emotional stress and she participated often enough to keep her name off of the antisocial list.

Unable to come up with a comfortable conclusion, she dismissed it, prodding her memory for the reason she’d decided to confront Raphael.

“You were probing my thoughts,” she said accusingly.

He gave her a look of innocence, but his eyes gleamed with amusement. Not I. One of the others, perhaps?

“I know it was you. I …uh….”

The amused gleam was replaced by another emotion, one Victoria was at pains to ignore. Recognize my touch?

To her surprise and discomfort, a blush mounted her cheeks. “It’s hardly a touch,” she said sharply.

True. Its far more intimate than a touch, he countered.

The comment made her careless. How would you know?

A slow smile curled his lips. You could always prove me wrong...

Chapter Two

“In your wildest dreams,” Victoria responded tartly.

They’re pretty wild. Would you like me to show you?

The blush that had barely begun to fade, turned fiery. Self-consciously, Victoria glanced quickly around to see who might have observed the interchange between the two of them. To her relief, most of the crew members were occupied. Roach, however, was dividing a speculative look between her and Raphael.

She was on the point of striding over to him and demanding to know if he was under the mistaken impression that he held a special position on the crew that allowed him to sit on his ass while everyone else worked, but Raphael caught her attention once more.

Why do you call me Raphael? It’s not the … name I was given.

Victoria’s head snapped around. For a moment, their gazes locked. With an effort she broke the contact, gazing over his shoulder at the other crew members, who’d congregated at the opposite end of the tank. She wasn’t about to tell him how she’d arrived at the name, however. “Names are easier to remember than numbers,” she said flatly.

But that’s not the reason, is it?

Victoria looked at him a moment before her gaze wandered to the others once more as it occurred to her to wonder if they could ‘hear’ the conversation between her and Raphael.

They’re not listening. It wouldn’t be polite.

Irritation surfaced again. “You don’t seem to have a problem listening to my private thoughts.”

His brows rose. I thought we were conversing.

Victoria gave him a look. “I gave everyone names because… it’s part of who a person is and how they identify themselves.”

He studied her consideringly. This is why you don’t like it when Roach over there calls you Tory. It’s too… intimate. Victoria is less approachable, isn’t it?

Caught off guard, Victoria allowed him to capture her gaze once more. To her relief, however, Huggins announced on the inner com at that moment that they were about to dock. “We’re docking. You’ll have to excuse me.”

***

It looked far worse up close than it had from the viewing screen, and she’d thought it looked like hell from several miles out. Victoria stood on the gangplank, surveying the landing platform and the area immediately around it.

Most of the damage appeared to be the ravages of severe weather, but there were at least two scorched areas Victoria was almost certain were from laser fire. She held up one hand as crew members began to crowd onto the gang plank behind her.

“Hold! Roach, get the weapons out.”

Nobody moved and after a moment Victoria turned around and looked at them. “Today, people!”

They scattered, moving to the cases that held the lasers. Victoria stepped back up the gangplank until she reached the inner com. “Huggins?”

“What is it, Anderson?”

“Looks like we might have had some laser fire here. You might as well settle in for a game of cards.”

“Laser fire?”

“Could be lightening strike, but I’m going to take the crew in to check it out before we begin off loading.”

“Keep in touch.”

“Will do.” She looked up. “Roach, issue everybody a com unit too. We’re going to take this by twos. Roach, you and Kichens. Brown, you can go with Tuttle. Clancy, you’re with me.”

Trouble?

Victoria frowned. Could be. I’m not certain yet. I’d just rather be safe than sorry.

We should check the mine area.

Right. Hang on a minute.

She followed her surface crew members down the gang plank. “Spread out and check the immediate area. I don’t want anyone going down, yet, though.” She moved to the edge of the platform and looked down, calculating the distance to the surface of the water. Looks like about 40 to 50 feet, Raphael. Hold for now. We’ll check the main structure. When we get done, I’ll have the tank lowered and your crew can go in and check out the mines.

We could make the dive.

No. It’s too risky.

It could be more risky to leave three quarters of your team caged and unable to come to your aid.

That’s an asinine thing to say, Rafael.

But true.

It’s completely unjust and you damn well know it! The containment’s for the water, not the crew … Have it your way! She stalked up the gangplank to the inner com. “Huggins. I need you to lower the tank. The deep sea crew is going in to check out the mines.” She released the button. “Clancy, give me a hand lowering a case of munitions for the crew. If they do run into trouble, I want them armed.”

The railing wobbled as Clancy climbed up on it to steady the guide wire. Victoria looked at the railing in alarm. “Get down, Clancy.”

He glanced at her. “We need to hold it free of the structure and make sure it doesn’t get tangled on the way down. It’s got a little wobble to it, but it’s safe enough.”

Victoria was checking the railing as the first pair of crew members returned to report in. “Tuttle, find something we can use to steady the munitions case while we lower it. Clancy, get off the damned rail. It’s unstable.”

Tuttle returned with a bar, Roach and Brown trailing behind her. The bar had a right angle on one end she used to catch the guide wire. Roach set his laser down and went to the railing, leaning over it to peer down.

“Get off…” Victoria broke off as the railing leaned outward with the grinding shriek of metal. “Grab him. Somebody grab him!” she yelled as Clancy, who’d already begun to climb down, teetered when the railing shifted.

Time seemed to hold its breath, slowing almost to a standstill. She released her hold on the guide wire, leaping forward with one hand outstretched. She managed to grasp a handful of Clancy’s clothing, but it was snatched from her grip as he went over with the railing.

“Head’s up!” she yelled to the crew below as she watched one whole section of railing break loose and begin to fall, watched Clancy twist, grabbing frantically for a handhold. He caught the edge of the platform. She hit the deck, almost skidding off the edge of the platform herself, trying to stop her slide and grab Clancy’s hand at the same time.

One of the crew members grabbed her legs, anchoring her to the deck. Brown grabbed a handful of Clancy’s sleeve. He slipped from both their grasps, following the broken railing over the side.

Numbly, she watched as he seemed to fall in slow motion, endlessly. Below, the crate of munitions crashed into the sea. The railing struck the water only seconds behind it. The crew below had scattered to a safe distance when the first shouts went up. She caught a glimpse of their upturned faces and bare shoulders, bobbing above the water, but she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze from Clancy as he continued to fall on and on, his face screwed up as he yelled something she couldn’t seem to hear, his body twisting.

He was almost halfway down when something shot from the water like a projectile from a cannon. She realized it was one of the sea crew as he met the falling man midair. The smacking sound of colliding bodies was like a thunder clap. They seemed to struggle for several moments and then Raphael gripped Clancy tightly against him and executed a mid-air back flip. They seemed almost to hover for several heartbeats before slicing head first through the water.

Victoria held her breath, waiting, watching for them to re-emerge, fearing they’d struck some of the debris below and it had injured both of them.

After what seemed a very long time, two heads bobbed up.

“Is he alive?” she shouted.

He’s breathing. I don’t know how long.

Victoria leapt to her feet and raced toward the ship. It took her ten minutes to prep a pod. Tuttle burst through the hatch and scrambled into the jump seat before she could lift off. Victoria nodded at the medic and punched the button to open the bay door, launching the pod almost simultaneously.

Within seconds, they were skimming just above the reach of the waves. Tuttle threw her restraints off and opened the hatch as they drew alongside the two men. Clancy, Victoria saw as she twisted around for a quick look, was bleeding from the mouth and nose. Raphael was bloody, as well, but she couldn’t tell if it was from his own injuries or if it was Clancy’s blood.

“Get in, Raphael. We need to check you out, too.”

He shook his head. “I’m all right.”

“Damn it, Raphael! Get in the frigging pod!”

A slightly crooked smile curled his lips. “I do love a woman with fire,” he murmured. In the next second, he’d disappeared beneath the waves.

Victoria was still gaping at the space he’d so lately occupied when Tuttle sealed the hatch. Briefly, their gazes collided. Victoria turned away, shooting skyward once more with the pod the moment Tuttle announced that she and Clancy were secured.

Clancy was barely breathing when they managed to get him onto an examination table in sick bay. Working together, they were able to get him stabilized after about an hour. They could find no evidence of internal bleeding from his organs. He was suffering from a concussion and several breaks, however, including his collar bone, several cracked ribs and two breaks on his left arm. When they’d set the breaks and stabilized the arm, they bound his ribs and realigned his collar bone, binding him to keep it from shifting again.

Finally, Victoria left Tuttle to keep a watch on him and returned to the deck. Brown and Kichens met her at the end of the gangplank. “Is Clancy going to make it?

Victoria drew in a deep breath. “Looks like it.” She scanned the area. Roach was sitting on the deck, tossing coins at the wall. It was patently obvious that he was completely unmoved by everything that had just happened, despite the fact that he could hardly have failed to know that it was his added weight on the railing that had caused the accident. Victoria saw blood. She strode over to him and decked him with her fist on the side of his jaw. He fell sideways. Before she could swing at him again, Brown and Kichens seized her.

“You damn near got two men killed … endangered the crew members below. You step out of line one more time, Roach, and you’ll be spending the next six months in the brig!”

He rubbed his jaw, grinning up at her, but there was malice in his eyes. “Damn, Tory! That almost hurt!”

Victoria tried to pull free, but Brown and Kichens had a firm grip on each of her arms. “Tell me you understand what I just told you, Roach!”

He shrugged. “I heard you say Clancy was OK.”

“He’s NOT OK! He’ll probably live, but he’s not OK And he wouldn’t even be in that good a shape if Raphael hadn’t risked his life to save him!”

Roach looked at her blankly a moment, then smiled snidely. “You mean lead tadpole?”

Brown released her, but before Victoria could react, he’d slugged Roach so hard his eyes rolled back in his head.

Victoria glared at the semi-conscious man. “Lock him in the brig, Brown. When you’re done, check on Clancy. If it’s safe enough to leave him for a little while, bring Tuttle back with you. If not… I guess it’ll just be the three of us making the sweep.”

***

Brown and Tuttle had discovered the power station had been blown when they’d made their sweep of the upper deck, which meant neither the lights nor the lift were working. After collecting miner’s helmets, Victoria led the way down the stairs.

The upper deck was supported above main operations by a web of steel girders. Victoria examined them as they descended, but could see no obvious signs of damage. She paused as they reached the second deck, looking out over the railing at the sea below them. She’d heard nothing from the deep sea crew since they’d gone under to retrieve the munitions. She’d tried reaching Raphael telepathically several times, but he either wasn’t responding or he wasn’t able to ‘hear’ her over such a distance.

Either way, it made her uneasy. She had no way of telling if they’d managed to retrieve their weapons, or if they’d encountered a threat below.

She glanced at Brown and Kichens. “This could be nothing more than weather damage, so watch it with the lasers. We don’t want to shoot any of the good guys.”

Kichens and Brown exchanged a look, but it was Kichens who spoke. “You think there’s a chance there’s still somebody alive down there?”

It was the question everyone had been avoiding, but they all knew it was doubtful. Both communications and the power were out. If there’d been anyone left, there would have been signs that attempts had been made to restore the power at least. Beyond that, they had made no attempt at a stealthy arrival. Even if the entire ground crew was huddled below for some reason, they must have heard the arrival of the replacement crew.

But it was inconceivable to Victoria that 60 crew members had vanished.

It would almost have been easier to believe pirates had raided the place except for the fact that there were no obvious signs of an attack—two possible laser blasts, and possibly not—no signs of blood—no bodies. And they’d found a good bit of expensive equipment. It seemed doubtful pirates would’ve overlooked it.

“We have to assume there are some survivors,” she responded finally. “If there are, they could be armed, so watch yourselves.”

The door, they discovered, was locked.

Victoria and Kichens stood back while Brown hit it was a blast of laser fire, then kicked it open before stepping back. Victoria stood away from the direct line of fire. “Replacement crew!” she yelled. “Is anybody hurt down there?”

Her voice echoed eerily down the stairwell. She waited several minutes, listening intently. “This is Victoria Anderson. I’m the mission supervisor with NCO! We’re coming down!”

Again, her voice echoed hollowly, as if she’d shouted into a metal can. After waiting for a response and recieving none, she entered the stairwell, keeping as close to the wall as possible. They made their way down to the first level. The door opened out onto the stairwell, but it was steel, at least, and would protect who ever opened it from fire in the event someone was waiting for them.

She and Brown flattened themselves against the wall by the opening and she nodded for Kichens to open it. Kichens grasped the handle and gave it a yank. The door didn’t budge. The three of them exchanged a look. “They sealed themselves in,” Victoria muttered. It began to look like an attack after all.

There was just one problem.

If pirates had attacked the rig, the bolted doors might have slowed them down, but they wouldn’t have held them off. They should have found that the doors had been blasted open. They should have seen signs of a fire fight.

Kichens blew a hole in the lock. Grasping the handle again, he jerked the door open. Brown hailed this time.

When moments passed and they received no response, Victoria eased up to the edge of the door, took her helmet off and flashed the light around the room beyond, expecting any moment that it would be shot out of her hand. Nothing but the same eerie silence greeted them. Finally, Victoria braced herself, and dove into the room beyond, rolling to a stop behind a low wall. After a moment, Kichens and Brown followed her.

“Brown, watch the door. Kichens, you take that side. I’ll take this one.”

Unlike the upper deck, the operations floor looked untouched. It was deserted, however. She met up with Kichens and Brown again.

“I found the auxilary power supply. Looked to me like it ought to be operational.”

Victoria frowned. “I don’t see how it could be. If it was working, it would be on, right?”

Kichens shrugged. “Maybe they didn’t get the chance to turn it on. Or maybe they left it off for a reason.”

“Give it a try. I don’t see stumbling around in the dark if there’s a chance of getting the lights on.”

To everyone’s surprise and relief, the power supply kicked on, flooding the operations room with light.

Shutting off the lights on their helmets, they moved back into the stairwell and down to the next level. The second level contained the living quarters of the supervisory level employees, the dining hall and kitchen, and the media and recreational rooms. It, too, was deserted, seemingly untouched. The third level was primarily living quarters for the crew. Below that level were three warehousing levels. The ore processing plant was below the warehouse levels. The eight and final level was about twenty feet above the sea floor, and designed for crew access in and out of the rig and for bringing up the raw ore.

It took hours to search the rig from top to bottom. The door on every single level was bolted from the inside. Every level was seemingly untouched. They found no blood, no bodies, no signs of a struggle of any kind… and no crew members.

Victoria had fully expected to find the remains of the crew on the eighth level. She didn’t know whether to be relieved, or further unnerved when they discovered that the final level was as devoid of any signs of life—or death—as all the others. There was, however, sign of a battle.

The pressurized access pool had been covered over and barricaded. It was obvious, however, that the barricade had not held.

Bride of Atlantis

by

Marie Morin

Chapter One

“Just so you know, I killed your father,” Eric whispered in her ear.

Expecting love words when she’d felt him lean against her, felt the warmth of his breath along her neck, Alexis Stanhope was too stunned by her new husband’s confession to move. The scene she’d only moments before been staring at in wonder—the full moon dancing off the waters of the Caribbean in the wake of the cruise ship—vanished and she saw only the vision of her father, laying prostrate on his kitchen floor, blood pooling around him.

She could not seem to grasp what he’d said. “You were in Seattle. How…? How could you have…?” Her lips felt stiff. The words tangled on her tongue, as if she was speaking for the first time.

“Cleverly,” Eric said, taking a step back and striking her so hard between the shoulder blades that she tipped over the ship railing.

For several seconds she teetered on the balustrade, too shocked and too petrified with terror to do more than gasp, unable even to scream as she scrabbled for a hold on the slippery railing. The beautiful sequined sheathe she had worn for it’s elegance trapped her, allowing her no room to maneuver, despite the slit down the back of the skirt, so that she was scarcely able to do more than wiggle like a worm caught on a hook.

Then she felt him grasp her legs, flipping her completely over the railing. Several nails broke as she lost her grip and then she was plummeting toward the yawning sea, falling in slow motion, staring in shocked disbelief at Eric’s grinning face as it grew smaller and smaller with distance, as the waves seemed to rise up to catch her.

She struck the water almost fully erect, feet first.

The chill of the water seemed to loosen the grip shock had held over her vocal cords.

Subconsciously, she knew a cry for help was useless. Late as it was, music still spilled from the ballroom and casino where inebriated guests laughed and talked at the top of there lungs to be heard above the music. The thrum of the engines, the crash of churning water added to the clamor. It was doubtful if she would have been heard had she screamed before she went over.

Now, it was worse that useless.

And yet she couldn’t go to her death without telling the man who’d betrayed her how she despised him for his cowardly attack.

“I’ll divorce you!” she screamed furiously.

Dimly, she heard, or thought she heard, a laugh, and the words, “Too late.”

Despite the fact that she struck the sea feet first, she didn’t cleave the water cleanly. Her feet took most of the shock, but her bent knees and upper torso took the impact in sufficient force that a shock wave traveled through her entire body, as if she’d struck pavement.

The horror, however, overshadowing even the stunning pain, was that she continued to fall, on and on, almost forever it seemed.

Blackness engulfed her before her instinct for survival took over and she began to struggle against the water pulling at her, slowing her descent, and finally climbing. Her arms burned with the effort. Her lungs were on fire. Her head felt as if it would explode from the pressure of holding her breath.

Something brushed her leg.

She screamed a silent scream, loosing much of her captured air, swallowing a gulp of briny water. The fright galvanized her flagging strength, however, and she struggled harder to reach the surface, her need for air rapidly overshadowing all other fears.

The water around her lightened….or her eyes were becoming accustomed. She wasn’t certain which, but this time, when ‘it’ brushed against her, she saw, or thought she saw, the shape of a man.

Eric?

Had she been mistaken? Had he come after her?

The shape moved away, but she was too desperate for air now to spare a thought for searching.

She could see the surface of the water above her. The moon’s glow rippled over the restless waves, causing the water to sparkle like silver and gold gems.

For some moments, hope buoyed her flagging strength, but no matter how she struggled, she seemed to come no closer. Her arms moved slower and slower. A different sort of blackness swarmed around her. She couldn’t hold her breath any longer.

She inhaled water as something grasped her and propelled her toward the surface as if she’d suddenly found a jet pack strapped to her. She thought the speed might be her imagination, but she was moving so fast that she cleared the surface of the water by several feet before she crashed down once more.

She went under, bobbed up, treading water like a half drowned puppy, flopping her arms and slapping at the water awkwardly, dipping under the water again and again before bobbing to the top once more.

Minutes passed before she could control her coughing and gagging. Finally, she managed to draw one pure breath of air and then another. Slowly, her drowning panic subsided until other considerations began to filter through her mind.

Frantically, she looked around for the ship.

When she finally saw it, she was certain her eyes were playing tricks on her. It couldn’t have gone so far…could it?

It was hopeless.

They’d sailed on without her.

No one had seen Eric’s cowardly assault.

No one had heard her scream as she’d fallen overboard.

No one except the man who’d pushed her….her husband of five days.

Some freaking honeymoon!

* * *

She had no hope of catching the ship. She knew that with a terrible certainty. It was miles away now. Slowly, she turned in a circle. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but water, and more water.

She was going to die here.

Something broke the surface of the water only a few yards from her, leapt toward the sky, then crashed down so hard that water rolled over her.

She screamed, then laughed a little hysterically.

It was a dolphin.

It must have been the dolphin that had pushed her to the surface.

Well, if he wanted the ‘trash’ out of his pond, he was going to have to push her a hell of a lot further. They’d left their last port of call hours earlier. They weren’t due to dock at home port for hours more. She was miles and miles from land in any direction.

She heard a splash again, this time behind her, and whirled toward the sound.

The head of a man emerged from the water less than two yards from her.

She was so stunned, she could only stare at him.

Irrationally, hope surged through her.

It died almost instantly as she realized she had already looked for a ship, a boat---anything. She’d seen nothing but the vanishing cruise ship. If he was actually with her, and not some figment of her imagination, then he was only company to drown with. He’d probably fallen off, or been pushed off, the same vessel.

She looked at him pityingly as he moved toward her and finally realized that he was probably nothing more than a figment of her hysteria, or hopefulness incarnate. In the bright moonlight, she saw that he was exceptionally handsome, with the perfection of features one expected only to find in models or movie stars.

The light from the full moon sparkled in his long, flowing hair. It looked, she decided almost whimsically, like spun moonbeams.

She felt oddly unmoved by her good fortune.

Wasn’t it every woman’s dream, after all, to be rescued by a handsome young hero?

But then, he was far too gorgeous to be real, wasn’t he? And, in any case it seemed unlikely that he was going to rescue her.

Obviously, her mind was playing tricks on her, filling her with hope when there was none.

Or maybe it was just her eyesight? A trick of the moonlight? If he was real, then he could not be as perfect as he appeared.

Then, too, unless he possessed uncommon swimming skills, it wasn’t likely that he would end up being her hero.

“Speken ze duetch?” He asked as he stopped a few feet from her, tilting his head quizzically.

Great! He didn’t even speak English! What kind of providence, or fantasy, was this?

“Par le vous francais?”

Alexis’ jaw dropped in surprise. Biligual? Here? In the middle of godforsaken nowhere?

“Habla espanol?”

“Hell! Now I know I’m hallucinating.”

“Ah! English…wait. American?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

He frowned. “This means joke?”

“No it doesn’t mean joke, damn it. I mean, yes, but…never mind.” Alex realized with some surprise that she was as angry as she was frightened. She had every right to be furious, of course. Her new husband had not only just admitted that he’d murdered her father, he’d just thrown her overboard. She didn’t want to think about the implications of his actions, or his last comments, however, and shied away from them almost as quickly as the thoughts scurried furtively through her mind. Her fear, she realized, had translated into defensive anger. She was furious because she was too terrified to think of anything except that, she, who absolutely hated the sea, was going to die in this place.

She must have been out of her mind to have allowed Eric to talk her into a honeymoon cruise.

Where had her sense of self preservation been when she’d fallen for a con man? Where had it been when she’d yielded to his persuasion? Shouldn’t alarm bells have gone off? Did all women turn into mindless morons the moment an attractive man popped the question, or was it just her?

Her father had owned a small construction outfit. He hadn’t been rich, merely well-to-do, but he’d had sufficient money to draw the sharks. She’s spent most of her adult life suspecting every man who’d ever courted her.

Then she’d met Eric. He’d seemed to have far more than her family had. It hadn’t occurred to her for one moment that he’d been another shark, far worse than any that had gone before him.

She’d brought him home to daddy, and he’d killed her father without her any the wiser…fooled even the police, who’d been convinced his alibi was air tight, then rushed her to the alter not six months later, and off on their ‘honeymoon’ cruise so he could neatly dispose of her, as well.

How had he managed to finagle her into a cruise, of all things?

Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to recall how it was that he’d waltzed her onto a cruise ship with no more than a token protest, when she would ordinarily only have gone kicking and screaming.

She’d always had a fear of the water, especially the ocean…any body of water, in fact, that wasn’t manmade and lined with concrete. The ocean was dark, deep and there were things in it, live things that bit, stung, and/or devoured the unwary.

It didn’t help her feelings one iota that she had company to die with.

“The ship’s gone. We’re going to die here,” she muttered, mostly to herself.

The man turned to look at the departing ship. “I can take you back, if you like.”

Alexis gaped at him, too stunned to speak for several moments. Hope surged through her again. “You can?”

He turned back to look at her, almost pityingly. “There is danger for you there.”

She stared at him. He’d jumped in to save her. He must have. There was no other explanation for his appearance.

It would’ve been far more helpful if he’d run to report it. At least then the ship wouldn’t have sailed off without them.

“You can’t help me. Not unless you can sprout wings,” she snapped sarcastically, knowing she sounded ungrateful for his attempt to save her, but uncaring. For chissake! He hadn’t done a thing but jumped in to drown with her! How helpful was that?

He looked at her quizzically. “I can.”

“Can, what?” she asked, distracted.

“Sprout wings, if you like. Would you prefer that to swimming?”

“Yeah, right.” It wasn’t bad enough that she was in the middle of the ocean, treading water, just waiting to run out of energy and sink to the bottom. She had to be here with a lunatic.

“I will show you if you like,” he offered.

“Sure. Why not? It’s not like we have anything else to do,” Alexis snapped sarcastically, trying to control the shivers that had begun to rack her from head to toe as the chill from the ocean began to lower her body temperature.

WHY was she so cold, she wondered absently, trying to control the spasm in her jaw that signaled imminent teeth chattering. These were southern waters, and it was well into spring.

It was night of course.

And she was next to naked—sequins didn’t really offer a hell of a lot of warmth.

But surely she wasn’t suffering hypothermia?

Maybe it was just terror that was making her shake like she had palsy?

Would she slip into a hypothermic coma first? And, barely conscious, or better, not conscious at all, sink into oblivion?

Maybe she should try floating on her back. She’d always been rather good at that.

She was distracted from her morose thoughts by the strange man who’d dropped in to keep her company, and watched, puzzled, as he seemed almost to levitate upwards until she could see that he was bare from the waist up…and as muscular as a weight lifter.

She was still wondering how he’d managed the trick of rising so far out of the water when he extended his arms stiffly to each side.

Oh god! She thought. This lunatic thinks he can take off like an airplane. Did he plan on flapping his arms? Or did he think he was just going to take off?

He did neither. He merely extended his arms and bent his head forward.

As she watched, stunned into silence, the ridge of flesh on his sides beneath his arms and along the underside of his arms flattened, seemed almost to spread, began to form wings like, well, like dragon wings.

“NO!” she covered her face with her hands. She should have known it was she who’d lost her mind! Terror had turned her brain into mush. She simply couldn’t accept that she was alone in this vast nothingness, and her mind had conjured a companion. It didn’t matter whether she lived or died. She was a blubbering lunatic.

She felt him grasp her wrists, tugging her hands from her face.

His expression was one of concern. “I did not mean to frighten you.”

She burst into tears.

He released her hands abruptly, almost seeming to jump back from her.

“No! Don’t leave me! I don’t care if you are a figment of my mind! I can’t bare to be alone here, waiting to die! Stay with me, please!”

He moved toward her, pulling her close. He felt wonderfully warm and alive for a figment. She could almost believe he really was there.

“If I take you back, he will kill you. If I leave you, you will die.”

And she needed him to tell her this?

He frowned. He didn’t look angry. He looked as if he was concentrating very hard.

In the next moment, he plunged beneath the sea, taking her with him so fast she didn’t have time to scream.

Alex gasped….air?

She opened her eyes. Then blinked, rubbed her eyes and opened them again.

There was a…well it looked like a bubble surrounding her.

She was almost afraid to touch it, afraid that it would vanish and she’d find herself struggling for air. She was just as afraid not to touch it, needing the reassuarance of knowing it was real.

Tentatively, she put her hand out, pressed against the almost transparent film that surrounded her. It yielded, stretched. She pulled her hand back, afraid to put too much pressure against it.

She couldn’t decide what to make of it. It seemed real. She didn’t think she was dreaming, or hallucinating.

But what had happened to her ‘hero’?

Carefully, she twisted around to look behind her.

She recognized the face of the man pushing the bubble of air encapsulating her. It was definitely the same man who’d spoken to her, offered to grow wings for her. The problem was, he wasn’t a man at all.

From his waist down, iridescent green and blue scales covered his long tail and fin.

Alexis felt quite suddenly as if she’d just run out of air. She passed out cold.

* * *

It was so black when Alexis finally came to, she thought she might have gone blind. She lifted her hand, felt around her. Something soft and yielding surrounded her. A deep cold penetrated it and she shivered, realizing suddenly that she was wet.

It took several moments to recall her last conscious moments, but when she did, she was inclined to think she’d had the world’s worst nightmare.

But, she was wet.

Maybe she’d fainted in the shower, bumped her head?

She was moving, though. She couldn’t see much of anything, but she could feel that she was moving.

She could also feel the thin membrane that she recalled exploring.

If she’d dreamed it, would she still feel that? Could it possibly be anything else that her mind had interpreted as a bubble?

She became aware of a soft glow of light and turned toward it.

Beneath her, she could see what appeared to be a coral reef. She was guessing, naturally. She’d never had the least inclination to go diving and had never actually seen one, except in pictures, but it did look like one, except for the cave-like entrance and the soft glow of light spilling forth from it.

Maybe she was dreaming? Eating seafood usually resulted her in dreaming some really bizarre things. Had she eaten seafood, though? She decided she must have, even though she couldn’t remember having done so.

Or was she floating mindlessly on the surface of the ocean, hallucinating while her life slowly slipped away?

The man—merman—that was pushing her along in the strange bubble, headed directly for the light.

Once they’d passed the opening, she realized it couldn’t possibly be a cave. It was a tube-like corridor that seemed to go on forever, and it was man made because it was as straight as an arrow…or made by something, in any event. It most certainly was not a natural cave.

It must have been at least two or three miles long, maybe more, because it seemed they traveled through it for a very long time. They passed, eventually, through the tube and into what appeared to be a great cove, or, more likely, a cavern and underground lake, although she could see no signs of stalactites, which she knew would’ve been in a natural cave.

Then, as they moved toward the surface of the water, she realized the ceiling emitted a faint glow—like a bright night sky. Faintly, she could just distinguish the twinkle of stars.

So they weren’t underground?

It didn’t make sense. They should be underground, but if they had been she wouldn’t be looking at a night sky.

She thought it over, trying to add two and two and coming up with six every time, because it just didn’t make any sense at all. Before they’d entered the tunnel, they had been surrounded by the darkness of deep water. She was as certain of that as she was certain of anything that had happened that night. Moreover, the tunnel they’d followed had been straight as an arrow, and just as level as a if it had been laid out with a contractor’s laser. And, if they hadn’t gone up, then it was a physical impossibility that this could be anything but a cave.

Unless…Maybe it was like the bottom of an extinct volcano? Maybe this place WAS beneath the sea, but opened to the sky because the cavern had no roof?

She abandoned her useless speculation when they surfaced at last. The bubble disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared and she found herself being cradled against the man’s chest. More curious now than frightened, she looked around.

They were still perhaps a mile, maybe two from shore. In the distance, she saw the twinkling lights of a city, sprawling along the shoreline as far as she could see in either direction.

The question was, what city?

It could not be the U.S. Coastal cities might abound, but they certainly wouldn’t be able to approach the city as she and her merman had.

South America? Could they possibly have gone that far?

She was no genius when it came to geography, but it seemed beyond the realms of possibility.

But then, up until a few hours ago she would have said that pretty much everything she’d experienced so far was beyond the realms of possibility.

“What is this place?” she asked, more to herself than to him. “It doesn’t look like any of the islands I’ve seen before.”

“It is not an island, not in the strictest sense of the word, at any rate,” he responded, sounding tired.

She turned to look at him. He looked tired, too.

How odd that her figment had human failings. If this really was a dream, would he get tired?

She had a bad feeling that he wouldn’t, but decided that she just couldn’t handle any more mental calisthenics at the moment. She was tired beyond belief and her head was throbbing as if it might explode.

She dismissed it, tried not to put a great deal of effort into thinking at all, instead merely watching as they drew closer and closer to the strange city.

As they neared the shore and she could see more clearly, an odd sense of disorientation swept over her. The place…every building, was in a style strongly reminiscent of ancient Greece…except these weren’t ruins. Some of the buildings looked old, perhaps a bit time worn, but none were crumbling. Most seemed to be single story buildings, with perhaps a handful rising two or three stories. In the distance, in what looked to be the center of the city, stood a cluster of buildings on a hill, or rise. These came the closest to resembling the multistoried buildings one would expect to see in a city of this size. In the midst of them, a tower rose well above everything surrounding it, almost like a lighthouse, or maybe an observation tower.

“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

The sense, almost of weightlessness the bouancy of the water had given gave way to a feeling of heaviness, cool air brushing her wet skin, bringing her to the realization that they were emerging from the water. She frowned, aware that she’d lost a sense of logic again. The guy carrying her was half fish, a merman. How could he just stand up and walk out of the water? She craned her head to see the merman’s tail and fin, but, even as she watched, they disappeared.

He set her on her feet and she leaned forward to peer at him in the dim light, watching in amazement as his iridescent scales gave way to skin, his lower body dividing to become two legs.

Well, two and a half.

He was stark naked.

Alexis straightened abruptly, blushing as she met his grinning face.

“Down boy! I don’t care how glad he is to see me, I’m not shaking hands!”

His expression became quizzical.

“Never mind!” She turned away, surveying the area, and realized they were standing on what appeared to be a stone pier. Steps led upwards to a beautiful stone house that looked very Mediterranean.

A wave of dizziness washed over her and she swayed, grasping his arm for support. “Where are we?” she demanded.

He scooped her into his arms and jogged up the stone steps to a verandah. Without pausing, he opened the door and stepped inside.

“My home.”

“I gathered that,” she said dryly as set her on her feet, steadying her by pulling her close against his side. Finding her land legs at last, Alexis pulled away, looking around the marble tiled foyer, her gaze skating over beautifully carved tables, chests…vases made of gold…none in a style she recognized. “But where is your home? And who are you? You never did tell me your name.”

“I am known as Adonis,” he said, and bowed in a quaint old world way that looked oddly gallant, given the fact that he was naked.

Alexis suppressed an urge to giggle—nerves or embarrassment, she wasn’t sure-- resolutely refusing to look at anything below his neck. “I wouldn’t doubt it in the least, but don’t let it go to your head. Pretty is as pretty does,” she added primly. “And we are where?”

“Atalantium.”

Chapter Two

Alex stared at him. “Atlantis?”

He shrugged. “Outworlders call it that.”

Slowly, Alexis wilted to the floor, dropped her head in her hands and gave up the effort to remain stoic and logical. As much as she hated women who wept at the slightest provocation, or yielded to hysterics when anyone with any sense would be trying to keep their wits about them, she couldn’t seem to prevent herself from behaving like a weakling. She cried.

She didn’t understand any of this. She strongly suspected she was either dead, or her husband--- the snake!--- had had her locked in a mental hospital and she’d been given some sort of mind altering drug.

But all she could really think about was that her daddy was dead, she’d married the snake that had killed him, and nobody was going to come looking for her.

He touched her before she realized he’d knelt in front of her. Oddly, the moment she felt the touch of his hand on her head, a strange calm came over her. It took an amazing effort to lift her head to stare at him. He smiled, scooped her into his arms once more and carried her up the flight of stairs that led off of the entrance hall.

The small room he took her to looked like a bathroom—except not. It was tiled, beautifully, in mosaics that looked very old world. But the fixtures only bore a passing resemblance to those she was familiar with.

The ‘throne’ looked…well, like a throne, not a toilet. She saw nothing that even resembled a lavatory, but wondered in the small cavity in one wall might pass for one.

There was no tub, but, taking up one whole end of the room, was what appeared to be a smaller chamber. Adonis stepped inside of it with her still cradled in his arms and finally settled her on a bench that ran the width of the stall. There was no curtain that she could see, no shower head, no knobs, and yet almost the moment they entered they were pelted by something that felt a lot like soothingly hot water, but wasn’t.

Still strangely lethargic, she was aware of being bathed, as if she was no more than a helpless child. The next thing she knew, she was lying, naked, on a vast bed, covered in satin sheets and filled with pillows of every shape and size.

The bed was covered. To her consternation, she discovered she was sprawled atop the sheets as if she’d hadn’t an ounce of modesty.

Struggling, she managed to turn her head and discovered that Adonis was sitting beside her, pouring something into his hands. The smell of jasmine wafted past her nostrils. Oil?

He moved to her feet, lifted one and began rubbing it—wonderful man—massaging each foot in turn until she almost felt like purring. Bending her knees, he scooted forward, settling a foot on each of his thighs, then began working her calves, kneading each one thoroughly until the painfully tensed muscles began to feel soft and pliant.

She didn’t really want to think. She wanted to just enjoy the wonderfully relaxing effects of the massage—except that she was far too relaxed already. In a way, it was almost the feeling of being inebriated—she felt completely relaxed, felt no real surprise about anything that was happening, felt no discomfort about the fact that she was naked in a strange man’s bed. Her judgment was definitely impaired.

And yet, not only had she not drank anything that might produce this effect, she also didn’t feel woozy in the least, just unable to do anything, and uncaring that she wasn’t able to.

Her attention returned abruptly to his hands when she realized he’d moved from her calves to her thighs. Heat started in her belly the moment his hands began sliding up and down her thighs from groin to knee.

She frowned, struggling now against the strange lethargy that prevented her from protesting, struggling against the stirring of passion.

The heat built as he moved to her belly and then her bare breasts.

Despite her best efforts, a moan of pleasure escaped her.

He smiled, lifting each of her arms in turn, massaging it, then placing her arms carefully on either side of the pillow that supported her head.

She wanted to demand to know what he was doing, but found she couldn’t speak.

“It’s all right,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “Just relax. You’ll enjoy it.”

That’s what they all say, she thought dryly, but she rarely did.

Anyway, she barely knew this guy! How dare he take liberties with her!

“Shhh!” He murmured, placing a finger to her lips. “Don’t think.”

She frowned, realizing he was no longer kneeling between her spread legs, that he’d moved and was lying beside her now, stretched out, his body just barely touching hers. When had that happened? Had she dozed?

He turned away, lifting a small bunch of grapes from a bowl beside the bed. For a moment, he dangled the fruit over her, then slowly lowered it, brushing it lightly over first one nipple and then the other. The chill of the grapes, the feather light touch, brought her nipples erect, sent a new surge of heat curling through her belly.

She bit her lip as he stroked her, slowly, tantalizingly, trailing the grapes from her nearest breast, down over her belly and back up to her other breast.

Alexis closed her eyes, fighting the desire to yield to her body’s urges.

Abruptly, the door burst open, slamming against the wall.

Dreamily, Alexis opened her eyes, struggled and finally managed to lift her head, feeling strangely unmoved by the intrusion, neither frightened, nor relieved, always supposing this was a rescue.

Adonis rolled off the bed and came to his feet in an instant, facing the intruder furiously.

Alexis was only vaguely aware of his reaction, however. She was mesmerized by the angry warrior who stood on the threshold, surveying her as if she was no more than an insect.

He was, in a word, magnificent. And as naked as Adonis.

My goodness, he’s a manly man, she thought, her gaze drawn like a magnet to his member as it grew proudly erect under her unwavering stare. She wondered a little doubtfully, however, if it was, perhaps, a little more than she could handle.

Huge was always impressive, and mighty tempting, but a girl could risk serious injury with that thing!

After a moment, she tore her gaze from his trophy, surveying him dreamily, in a leisurely manner that missed nothing.

His features—high cheekbones, narrow blade of a nose, squared jaw—made her think ‘Indian Chief’, particularly since he had long, dark hair. But, even from across the room she could see that his eyes were blue.

His mouth was hard, straight and made her stomach muscles flutter pleasantly.

He was tall, taller even than Adonis, who must have been six feet tall.

His chest was massive with muscle…his whole body, but he didn’t have the veined, obscenely unnatural mass of a bodybuilder. His legs were particularly nice, mostly because she wasn’t used to seeing nicely shaped legs on a man. Body builders bulked up their leg muscles until their legs no longer fit together properly, and most of the rest looked as if their legs were atrophied.

The desire Adonis had been trying to awaken surged through her veins like fire as her gaze wandered over him and her mind conjured images of his big, hard, powerful hands stroking her…his big, hard, powerful everything making love to her. Her gaze returned to his face, lingering longingly on his mouth, as images of his mouth replacing his hands with caresses danced through her head.

The room reeked of testosterone.

She knew then that she HAD to be dreaming.

“Thor! How did you….?” Adonis growled angrily.

He couldn’t be Thor, Alex thought with contemptuous amusement. Thor was a Norse god for chrissake! He would’ve had acres of beautiful, golden hair. This guy looked huge enough, and powerful enough, to be a Thor, but his hair was dark.

The man Adonis had called Thor, lifted what looked amazingly like a sword and pointed it at Adonis. “I am the guardian. You can not hide your thoughts from me. You have broken the first law,” he thundered angrily.

Alexis giggled.

He looked startled, turned to glare at her for a moment—as if he was certain it could take no more than that to properly subdue her—then returned his attention to Adonis.

“The council decreed…”

“The council decreed that THEY would judge outworlders.”

“She would have died.”

Thor lifted his brows, turned to study Alexis for a long moment. She could see nothing in his eyes that indicated more than mild curiosity, however, certainly not compassion for her plight. “The affairs of the outworlders are of no interest to the council.”

Adonis took a step forward, furious. “What about you?”

“I am guardian of the laws. I obey the laws. I ensure that everyone obeys the laws. Without them, we would have no order, only chaos.”

“If you feel nothing, then you have no humanity left and you are not fit to be guardian.”

For a moment, Alexis thought the man called Thor was going to attack Adonis. Maybe that had been Adonis’ intention, to provoke a fight? If it had been, he was out of his mind. This fellow looked like he could make mincemeat out of him.

After a moment, to Alexis’ relief, he seemed to regain control of his anger. “You should have returned her to her people, not brought her here. You know it is forbidden to bring outworlders here.”

“She was attacked, thrown in the sea to die. If I had taken her back the man would have killed her.”

Thor’s lips tightened. “You must present this to the council…as you should have done to start with. Come. They wait.”

Adonis turned to look at Alexis. He seemed torn.

“Release her to me.”

Adonis’ head snapped around. He glared at Thor suspiciously. “Why?”

Thor’s face hardened. “If you do not release her, I will take her.”

Adonis looked taken aback. “You would kill her.”

“No. You would.”

Alexis didn’t understand what they were talking about, but after a moment Adonis turned to her, touched her gently on the forehead.

It was as if she’d suddenly come wide awake. Alexis sat up on the bed, gathering the sheets to her, looking wildly around.

“What is going on here!” she demanded, watching, bemused, as Adonis stalked over to a wardrobe, removed something that looked oddly like a cross between one of those hard plastic headbands and a headset, except that it was made of filigreed metal, and placed it on his head. Almost instantaneously, he was fully clothed---or at least appeared to be fully clothed, in some sort of short, white robe. He threw her one last glance, looked as if he would speak and then, without a word, stalked angrily from the room.

The man Adonis had called Thor approached the bed, studied her for a long moment and finally extended his hand. “Come. I must take you before the council.”

She was relieved to see he was wearing a loincloth and wondered what had made her think he was naked. Relief aside, however, she felt no inclination to oblige him.

“Not on your life, buddy! I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m not going anywhere with you!”

He reached for her.

Alexis scrambled to the other side of the bed, watching him warily.

He caught the sheets, giving them a jerk that would have brought her flying across the bed toward him, except that she hadn’t expected that move and he only succeeded in snatching the cover from her hands, leaving her bare once more.

Alexis grabbed a pillow and launched it at his head.

He dodged it.

She grabbed more, throwing them at him one after another in a barrage. He knocked them aside. Finally, she managed to smack him in the face with one. She was on the point of throwing the last, but decided to keep it, and hugged it to her bare breasts instead. She looked around to see if she could find something heavier to launch in his direction, but, unfortunately, he was standing on the side of the bed where the bowl of fruit resided.

He frowned at her. “This is childish.”

“Childish!” Alexis echoed. “Look, buddy, I don’t know you….”

“I am called Thor!”

“Oh! Well that just makes all the difference in the world. I suppose now that I know you I should just stop being childish and allow you to drag me off and murder me.”

His face tightened with anger. “It is your people who murder for pleasure. We do not.”

Alexis kept her distance. “Mine? Are you trying to tell me you’re some sort of alien, or something? Because I’m just about ready to believe it. I feel like I fell off the boat and landed on Mars.”

“Don’t be absurd. I am as human as you are.”

“I take leave to doubt that!”

“I will not argue with you,” he said stiffly, obviously offended.

Alexis didn’t care. Sure he’d looked good enough to eat while she was under the influence—whatever the hell that influence had been—but he also looked big enough, and mad enough, to break her in half. She wasn’t about to let him get hold of her if she could help it. “Good! You wouldn’t win.”

She thought for several moments that he would loose his grip on his temper. Her heart executed a little tap dance of anxiety.

“I am the guardian. Come with me. Now!” he ordered, holding his hand out imperiously.

“Is this supposed to mean something to me? Because it doesn’t. I haven’t a clue what the hell you’re talking about and I’m not going anywhere with you. And I’m especially not going any damn where without my damn clothes!”

He lowered his hand, studied her with a perplexed look on his face for several moments. “You have a foul tongue.”

“Baby, you ain’t heard nuthin’ yet! My father was a construction worker. You come near me and I’ll give you a run down of my vocabulary. And, if you touch me you’re going to draw back a nub.”

He stared at her, hard.

Alexis felt a peculiar fluttering sensation in her head, almost like an annoying fly was buzzing around her. Unconsciously, she swatted at it.

His brows rose, an expression of surprise bordering on amazement crossing his stern features.

“What?” Alexis demanded, feeling uneasiness creep up her spine as it occurred to her to wonder if there was something she’d rather not know about standing behind her. She wasn’t about to fall for that one, though.

He said nothing. After a moment he moved to the wardrobe Adonis had pulled his ‘headset’ from.

“Don’t think for one moment I’m walking out of here wearing nothing but that head thingy!”

He pulled a scrap of cloth from the wardrobe and turned to her. “You are not allowed a band. You are an outworlder.”

“Well, duh! I feel like I just fell down the rabbit hole! Anyway, I just told you I didn’t want a damned headband, didn’t I?”

He gritted his teeth, apparently fighting another round with his temper, but finally moved back to the bed, stone-faced now, holding the scrap of cloth out.

Alexis looked down at it. “I don’t suppose you have another one of those so I can cover both cheeks?” she asked, exquisitely polite.

His expression became puzzled.

“That is not big enough to cover everything I want to cover.”

“It is all that is available.”

Alexis pursed her lips. “What happened to the clothes I was wearing?”

Thor appeared to think about it. “Adonis destroyed them.”

Alexis gasped in outrage. “My beautiful gown! That…that bastard!”

Thor frowned. “His parents were wed.”

“Never mind,” Alexis said, reaching to snatch the minute scrap of cloth from his hands.

She wasn’t fast enough. He grasped her arm, hauling her across the bed towards him. Before she could react, he placed his free hand across her forehead.

Actually, his hand was the size of a dinner plate. It covered her whole face. What the hell did he think he was doing, she thought angrily, feeling a strange weakness wash over her.

Slowly, she wilted onto the bed, staring up at him in confusion.

He smiled triumphantly, dropped the scrap of cloth to the bed, hoisted her up and tossed her over his shoulder. The last thought Alexis had as she felt herself being carried from the room was that he had a really nice ass.

She reached down and patted it, discovering it was everything she’d hoped for, firm and round. He came to an abrupt halt.

Nice, she thought as darkness swam up to meet her.

* * *

The room Alexis found herself in when she woke abruptly was cavernous. She couldn’t seem to move, nothing but her eyes, in any event. It was almost as if she was strapped tightly to whatever it was she rested on. She looked around, wondering where she was now, and more to the point, why she was here.

What she saw rather reminded her of a stadium, or maybe an indoor theater. She appeared to be on a raised platform in the center.

There were between fifteen and twenty rows of bleachers and all were full almost to the point of overflowing with people ranging in age from perhaps twenty to sixty. It looked like a town meeting. No one, however, appeared to be making a sound, let alone talking.

It was very, very odd, even compared to the oddities she’d already been subjected to. She might almost have believed they were nothing but mannequins, except for the fact that she could see movements among them.

Gritting her teeth with effort, she managed to roll her head so that she could see further.

She saw then that there was a row of stone chairs that resembled thrones near where she lay. In the chairs sat six of the oldest people Alexis had ever seen in her life. Slightly behind them, in a thrown raised higher than those in front, sat a creature that easily looked twice the age of the ancients in front of her.

Thankfully, they all wore long, white robes.

Neither Thor nor Adonis had seemed greatly taken with clothing. She’d feared no one around here wore them.

That thought set off warning bells. She discovered when she managed to look down at herself that she was still as naked as the day she was born, and lying on something like a chaise at the edge of the center platform, in plain view of absolutely everyone.

She was going to kill Thor when she got her hands on him.

She found, to her immense relief, that she could move if she concentrated hard.

She moved one leg over the other, crossing them, bringing her knee up far enough that her sex was no longer in blatant view, then moved an arm across her breasts.

If she’d had hair like Rapunzel, she’d have felt worlds better.

She’d had these ‘exposure’ nightmares before, but as bizarre as they generally were, this one took the cake.

She had dreamed once that she was shopping and discovered she had no clothes on. She’d dreamed she had gone to school and discovered she’d lost her clothes somewhere between there and home. This was the first time she’d dreamed she had decided to go to a political meeting stark naked.

Feeling slightly less exposed, she became aware for the first time of a loud buzzing noise. Doubtless that was what was making her head throb like it would explode.

She was tempted to massage the ache in her temples, but decided her head didn’t hurt badly enough to uncover her breasts.

“You have released her, Guardian?”

The voice echoed inside the deathly silent room, making Alexis jerk in surprise.

Without considering that it was nigh impossible to move, Alexis whirled toward the sound as easily as if she had not been struggling for the past ten minutes only to move her body by inches. She saw that it was the most ancient of the group on the dais who’d spoken aloud.

Thor stepped forward, bowed slightly. “Nay, High Councilor. She has broken the hold.”

A collective gasp seemed to rise and move around the great room like a wave. The creature—Alexis couldn’t tell to save her life whether it was male or female, for even it’s voice didn’t give her a clue—turned to stare at Alexis for long moments in something akin to amazement.

Behind her, Alexis heard a murmur, of many voices, but low, strangely quiet for such an enormous group.

Adonis stepped forward.

“Speak,” the High Councilor admonished. “The mind talk causes her pain.”

Adonis glanced toward Alexis.

“I wish to keep her as my mate,” he said finally.

Alexis’ jaw dropped. Just like that? Was she supposed to have a say in this?

The High Councilor turned to look at her. “You may.”

Alexis stared at the Councilor in surprise. “May what?”

The High Councilor looked annoyed, glanced at the others on the platform, then looked at Alexis. “You asked if you might have a say in the decision. Speak.”

“I didn’t…” Alexis stopped. Everything about this place was absolutely bizarre. It couldn’t be—could it? “You read minds?”

“We converse.” The High Counselor hesitated. “Your people call it telepathy.”

Alexis’ thoughts went chaotic. Foremost in her mind was her earlier encounter with Thor. She turned a horrified gaze upon him, wondering if he could read her mind too, and if he had—trying frantically to recall exactly what had gone through her mind then. Unfortunately, she could remember far more than she wanted to.

It seemed to her that if they were going to release her from her inhibitions, they might at least have had the courtesy to make her forget what she was thinking while under the influence.

He did not so much as glance in her direction, but he blushed.

Alexis felt the blood rush to her cheeks until they were lit up like a neon sign. She covered her face with her hands. Just kill me now, she thought. I’m going to die of embarrassment anyway, or worse, live.

With a tremendous effort, she pushed the memories to the back of her mind, striving for composure. She looked at the one Thor had called the High Counselor. “Why?”

“We can not be heard by your kind if we only converse telepathically. Sound carries. No one, without telepathy, can hear thoughts.”

“So….you all just decided one day to go telepathic?”

The creature looked amused. “Something like that. I am called Aurora.”

Alexis flushed beat red, realizing…she blocked that thought.

Aurora’s brows lifted. “You are not like the rest of your kind.”

Alexis didn’t like the sound of that.

“This was merely a comment, not a judgment.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but I find your reading my mind very rude.”

Aurora looked displeased. “You are an outworlder, an intruder here. Our right to protect ourselves supersedes your right to privacy.”

Alexis’ lips tightened. “Fine! Give me my damn clothes and I’ll leave! I’ve got unfinished business I need to take care of anyway. And MY kind don’t walk around naked. And that…that watchdog of yours dragged me here without so much as a scrap of cloth to cover me!”

Alexis felt a massive wave of anger and disbelief roll over her. She knew, somehow, that it was the reaction of the entire crowd to her little speech. The problem was, she wasn’t entirely certain which part of it had offended everybody. Maybe all of it?

She turned to find Thor glaring at her. She glared back at him.

He decided to ignore her.

She sniffed contemptuously and returned her attention to the High Counselor.

“Thor is the Guardian!” Aurora pronounced imperiously.

“Yeah, so he said.”

“Enough!”

Alexis shrugged, trying to hide her uneasiness, wishing she hadn’t allowed her nervousness to lead her into openly aggressive behavior.

Aurora turned to Adonis. “I must deny your request.”

Adonis seemed to struggle with his own anger. “Why? It is obvious she carries latent genes of the race. Few, even among us, could have broken the hold.” He threw Thor a smug glance.

Thor ignored him.

“You have broken the first law. You can not be rewarded for having done so, regardless of the circumstances. If she had chosen you, it might have been considered after a suitable punishment. But she has denied you,” one of the elders in front of Aurora intoned in a voice that crackled with disuse.

Alexis felt a pang of guilt at the look Adonis threw her. He’d saved her life. She didn’t want to appear ungrateful and was sorry that she obviously had.

But the fact remained that she did not want to stay, even if they wanted her to. That snake she’d married thought he’d gotten away with murder—a double murder. She wasn’t about to allow him to enjoy the life he’d deprived her father of, to reap the rewards of the years and years of hard labor her father had put in just so he could retire in comfort.

Almost as one, the elders turned to look at her. On their faces she saw varying degrees of sympathy. Aurora spoke.

“Alas, as worthy as your cause is, it is not so simple. In our society, you would have the right to exact vengeance upon the one who murdered your father. But we can not allow you to simply leave. If you are determined upon this course, you must submit to memory drain.”

Alexis’ jaw dropped, a sense of horror washing over her. She didn’t like the sound of that, at all. “Exactly what are we talking about here?”

“We can not allow you to take your memories of us with you. They must be erased.”

Alexis forgot all about being naked. She leapt to her feet, furious, horrified. “No way in hell are you touching my brain!”

The counselors looked unmoved by her outburst.

“It is the law,” they intoned in unison.

“Well, you can just take your damned laws and stuff them!”

Aurora looked at Thor. He strode toward Alexis purposefully.

Alexis leapt over the chaise, dancing just out of his reach, glancing behind her to make sure no one else was sneaking up on her blind side.

The crowd seemed frozen to their seats in shock.

Adonis had made no move in her direction either, but his expression was one of amusement.

The elders looked neither shocked nor amused, but remained seated. Alexis doubted they would be much of a threat anyway and focused on Thor.

Thor wore an expression that was a mixture of surprise, discomfort and irritation.

“Halt!”

Alexis stuck her tongue out at him, daring him to come after her.

He lunged.

This time Alexis was prepared for his amazing speed. She leapt into the air, catching him square across the jaw with a butterfly kick.

No one was more stunned than she that it actually worked.

Chapter Three

Alexis was racing toward the edge of the platform almost before she landed. Reaching the edge in three strides, she leapt from the dais and ran along the walkway that surrounded the platform, heading toward the nearest exit. She hoped it was an exit.

She’d almost reached her goal when a woman sprang from one of the lower benches, landing in front of her and effectively blocking her path.

She was probably the most beautiful creature Alexis had ever seen in her life.

It gave Alexis a perverse kind of pleasure when she executed a perfect flying kick, felling the woman on the spot. Without pausing, she leapt over the woman’s prone form and raced down a long, shadowy corridor.

These people lived near the water. She knew there had to be a boat somewhere.

She heard the pounding of footsteps behind her before she was halfway down the corridor…too heavy for the woman, undoubtedly Thor. She’d hoped for a longer head start, but the sound kicked her adrenaline up several notches and she ran faster, so fast she slammed into the wall when the corridor took an abrupt turn.

She barely broke stride, but she could hear the footsteps coming closer. Ignoring the pain in her arm and shoulder, she picked up speed once more, flying through the open doorway at the end of the corridor so fast the wind whistling past her ears almost deafened her to pursuit.

She needed to stop and get her bearings.

She didn’t dare.

It was morning now, she saw, still early, but bright enough she could see at a glance that she was on the rise she’d seen when she and Adonis approached the city. With only a slight pause, she struck off toward the waterfront.

She reached the water’s edge in minutes.

The colosieum, thankfully, stood only a few blocks from her objective.

A pier appeared in the semi-dark of early morning gloom, but she could see no boats. She veered to her right, hoping, certain, she would see a boat of some description if she followed the shoreline.

Her pursuer, however, was rapidly gaining on her now. She forced herself to run faster, but he seemed to gain on her anyway.

No boat suddenly appeared to help her escape.

Thor—she knew it had to be him—would catch her if she continued to race along the shoreline, and before many minutes passed.

She raced down the next pier she came to and dove into the water, swimming for all she was worth.

When she at last spared a glance back, she saw Thor standing on the end of the pier. As she watched, his loincloth disappeared, his legs melded together and irridescent scales replaced skin, a fin appearing where his feet had been.

She whirled and swam as fast as she could as she saw him dive off the end of the pier, but she knew it was hopeless.

Her brief freedom was a lost cause.

She felt a hand grasp her ankle, jerking her to a halt so abruptly that she went under. She kicked out, connected with something, felt the grip loosen and pushed herself to the surface.

Thor surfaced beside her.

She stared at him, gasping for air.

He seemed barely winded.

He reached for her, grasping both of her arms and pulling her flush against him. They were almost nose to nose.

Alexis didn’t think, couldn’t. She looked down at his hard, unyielding mouth, remembering that she’d wondered how it would feel on hers, lifted her eyes to his in unconscious supplication.

As if he could not help himself, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Heat rushed through her with the first, tentative brush of his lips against hers. Alexis caught her breath, confused by the flood of desire that rushed through her

as his mouth closed over hers. A strange weakness followed in the flood path, her body going into meltdown in response to his nearness.

Abruptly, Alexis kneed him. Unfortunately, he was much taller than her and she missed his groin. Then, too, the water slowed her movements so that the blow would not have been very effective even if she’d connected with her goal.

Nevertheless, Thor was so surprised at the attack, he released her.

Alexis knew she was too weak to have a chance. She tried anyway, slinging a handful of water in his face as she whirled to flee.

He caught her before she’d managed two strokes, jerking her around to face him.

When she saw his hand coming toward her face, her first thought was that he was going to shove her under and hold her there until she stopped struggling.

Instead, as his hand covered her face, darkness fell and consciousness vanished.

* * *

Alexis stared at the beams crisscrossing the darkened ceiling for several moments before her memory came flooding back. When it did, she jerked bolt upright, looking around quickly for a possible escape.

The chamber she awoke in this time was far smaller than the colucieum, but still large for a room. Like Adonis’ home, it was filled with unimaginable treasures. Unlike Adonis’ home, which had been fairly spartan, this room had the cluttered, homey feel of someone who has lived long and accumulated many cherished belongings.

Aurora sat in a chair, studying her. She was the only other occupant of the room.

“You can not escape.”

It seemed like a dare.

Aurora’s expression became a mixture of amusement and sympathy. “I suppose it must sound like a challenge, and I do not doubt that you are a most resourceful young woman, but it is not…humanly possible.”

Alexis merely stared at her for several moments, wondering which part of the statement to dispute first. Finally, she said, “Humanly?”

Aurora smiled faintly. “I am not sure I could explain it to your…satisfaction.”

“I have a reasonably good understanding.”

Aurora nodded. “I do not doubt your intelligence. It is merely that you have not yet accepted that this is real, and not a figment of your imagination.”

“It isn’t something easy to accept, you have to admit.”

“Readily. If we were not the stuff of myth and fables, it might be easier, but I doubt even then…” She shrugged.

Alexis shivered, chaffing her arms unconsciously.

Aurora nodded toward the end of the chaise where Alexis sat. “There is a robe there if you would feel more comfortable.”

Alexis grabbed it up gratefully. She discovered it was something like a toga, opening at the neck rather than in front, and pulled it over her head. “You still didn’t answer my question.”

“We are human, but not as you are human.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Alexis murmured dryly.

Irritation crossed Aurora’s features, but after a moment, she seemed to shrug it off. “Long ago we realized that we possessed many ‘gifts’ that other races, or tribes, if you will, did not. Or, more accurately, I suppose, we had stronger gifts than others. We ----cultivated them.”

“The telepathy?”

“Among other things.”

“You want me to believe that you’re actually from Atlantis? THE Atlantis? The one there’s been so many stories about?”

Aurora chuckled. “It matters not to me whether you believe or not. This is Atalantium, the only Atlantis, if you prefer, that ever existed.”

“But…but,” Alexis struggled for words. “That was thousands of years ago, before Christ, even…before Plato. I may not know much about history, but I do know that much.”

“Time means little to us.”

Alexis studied her a long moment. “So everybody here is thousands of years old? You’re….immortals or something?”

Again Aurora chuckled. “Not immortal. Some older than others. We are a very long lived people—live many times your lifetimes--but I do not think you understood what I said when I told you time means little to us. It is not a barrier to us.”

“Not a barrier?” Alexis said thoughtfully. “Time travel? You’re saying you time travel?”

“Time walk. Atlantis is hundreds, not thousands of years old. We are hundreds, not thousands---though I am the oldest surviving Atlantean.”

It actually made sense---in an insane sort of way. No wonder the Atlanteans had seemed so advanced compared to everyone else in the ancient world. They had simply time walked, learned what they needed, or taken what they wanted, collected the best from whatever age they pleased.

Aurora nodded. “We are very learned---value knowledge—but all of our technology is not borrowed, nor all our very own.”

“But you’re human? Not aliens?”

“We are human. We are genetically enhanced human beings. Which is why I said you could not escape. WE can come and go. No human lacking our gift to shift would be able to leave Atlantis. We have few boats because we really have no need of them. And even if you could manage to take one, or fashion a boat, you would not be able to survive the corridor which connects us to the sea, or the pressure so far beneath the sea.”

Alexis’ eyes narrowed. “You had me going for a little bit there. I suppose you thought I wasn’t clear headed enough to notice, but I can see the sky. I know this must be an island.”

Aurora uttered a deep sigh. “It is an illusion. We shut ourselves off from the rest of humanity long ago, because our gifts, our technology, were looked upon as witchcraft, sorcery. As much as we were admired and, even occasionally worshipped, we were also feared and hated. We had thought when we chose to build our civilization before the time of ‘modern’ man, that we would be safe, and able to live peacefully. For a time we were, because only we possessed the ability to travel great distances quickly. But ancient man caught up with us when they began to roam the world. Many came---to destroy, to take, to wipe us from the face of history. We finally realized that we would either have to give up those things we took such joy of, or live apart from those who were different from us, because we would have no peace otherwise.

And so we built a great dome to protect our cities and sank our civilization beneath the sea, out of reach of those who would have destroyed it and destroyed our way of life.

But we had not counted on the effects of isolation---or the effect of living in what to all intents and purposes was no more than a cave. We had to create the illusion of living in the world we had left. Otherwise it was simply unbearable.”

Alexis was certainly no expert in the field of history, especially not ancient history, but she could understand the reasons for taking such a drastic step. Hadn’t China done much the same—cut itself off from the less civilized world? But China had rejoined the world, eventually—and found they’d been left behind by the barbarians they’d held in contempt.

“That was really a long, long time ago. I can see why it might have been a good idea way back when, but why did you never rejoin the rest of the human race? We’ve changed a good bit, become more civilized.”

Aurora looked amused. “And we would now ‘fit in’?”

Alexis was obliged to admit that, at least as they were, they couldn’t. “If you adapted to this, you could adapt to anything.”

“But we would still be ‘freaks’, different—we would not be left in peace. The governments of today would fight over our technology, the scientists would want to probe and study us. We are not entirely cut off. We are very aware of the outside world.”

“So you can’t, ever, allow an outsider…or outworlder, to come here and then leave again?”

“Not with knowledge of us.”

“It’s not like anyone would believe me, even if I was crazy enough to babble about it.”

“Some might. Many still seek Atlantis.”

Alexis stared at her a long moment. “I’m not about to let anyone tamper with my memories. Eric confessed to me that he’d killed my father. He thinks he’s killed me. I have to go back. I have to see that my father’s murderer is brought to justice. If you erase my memories, I not only wouldn’t be able to, I would be defenseless. I could walk right into an ambush and he’d just finish what he’s already tried to do once.”

“You would have all memories, save the memories of being rescued by Adonis, and the memories of us.”

Alexis said nothing. She didn’t believe for one moment, no matter how marvelous their technology, that they could so selectively erase certain memories and leave others. “So…I can stay, or I can go and remember nothing.”