by CK Dawn
The silence in the truck was so profound, he almost thought he could hear something breaking apart inside him.
Eight
Telling him was for the best. Caitlin knew this as truth. It hurt him now, but it was better this way. He would realize that, eventually.
After all, liking him would do him no favors. She couldn’t do that to him.
Not him.
When Wash turned away from her to focus on the road, her heart dropped to shatter like so much glass on the ground.
He’s human. He’ll die. Sooner or later, time will take him like everyone else.
She could tell herself this all day, but it didn’t matter. Her heart wanted what it wanted. She shook her head. Her mother had taught her better than this. Wash was nothing more than a science experiment. A human who could hear spirits and somehow disrupt her magic with a touch.
Nothing more. She couldn’t let him be more.
Ocean Park came into full view, looking none the worse for wear after the previous day’s tsunami. A real Coup d'état for Osiris and his stocks. People had to be rushing to invest in his company now. She stifled the anger building in her and purposefully looked away.
Osiris was old, almost as old as her people, and for all his age what had he done the moment he couldn’t re-establish his empire? He created a new one.
That was his problem. She wanted nothing to do with it. Atlantis and the old gods had a treaty of sorts and they left each other alone. Atlantean history taught her that Atlantis had fought war after war with Egypt, the Mesopotamians, even the Athenians. Atlantis had freely shared their advances with the world in an effort to uplift the humans who were barely past using stone knives and bear skins.
And how were they repaid? With war, and bloodshed, and the kind of mortality that was so second nature to humans but alien to her kind.
The second they could sail to the island, they attacked. The first wave by the Egyptians, under Osiris, was the most horrific. They came as friends, trading much-needed silver for food and medicine. Once on the shores though, and aided by Osiris’ power, they showed their true colors.
While she hadn’t been there, her grandfather had spoken of the battle often. How their friends had betrayed them, men they’d know since childhood.
Senseless, unimaginable, horrific slaughter. Men, women, and children cut down until the streets were red with blood.
After the initial assault, the Egyptians had thought themselves victorious. Then the Vasilikí arrived.
After that, it was war after bloody war with every people they once called friend trying to control the city. Caitlin was never sure if it was the coming calamity of magic or the warfare that finally made Grandfather and Mother sink the city.
In the end, it didn’t matter. She’d read the human history. Plato claimed Athens defeated Atlantis and the gods destroyed her out of spite. A handy rewrite of history.
“Cait?”
“Hmm?” She glanced up at Wash who pointed out the window.
“We’re here.”
“Thank Poseidon. I need a shower and some food. How about you, handsome?” She cast him a smile, and then instantly regretted it.
What was she doing? She was just being cruel at this point, but it was like second nature to her. If she couldn’t draw people to her for her sake, she’d find some other way.
She couldn’t do that to him.
“A shower sounds great,” he said, not seeming to notice. “Lead the way.”
They’d had the truck driver stop at a swim shop on the end of town, and she grabbed a couple of things, charging it to the hotel when the cashier recognized her.
It was the only way to disguise the distinct shipwrecked vibe they had going on. She’d wetted down her hair in the bathroom, and twisted it into a knot like she’d been at the beach the whole time.
Now at the hotel, they pushed through the gaggle of photographers in the lobby—probably notified by the cashier at the swim shop.
“Ms. Vnois, where did you go after the shoot?”
“Ms. Vnois, is this your new boyfriend?”
“Sir, what’s your name?” A pretty young woman dark skin held her hand up to him. Her bracelet sparkled in the light and Wash could make out the microphone nestled between the gems.
Caitlin put her hand on Wash’s chest to stop him and turned to the paparazzi.
“We’ve just been to the beach, obviously, but it was a really long night at the shoot, and I’m exhausted. I’d be happy to come down after I’ve had a shower and a quick nap. You all are lovely, and you know I won’t let you down.” She flashed them a brilliant smile.
“Sure thing, sweetheart,” one of the reporters said. The crowd offered a round of assent and then turned back to the minor celebrity they’d been surrounding before Caitlin came through.
“I still don’t know how you do that,” Wash whispered to her. “That’s not… normal, you know.”
She waved off several staff who approached her as she and Wash made for the lift. Right now, her muscles were aching, and all she wanted was a shower, food, and sleep. Lots of sleep.
The lift doors closed and Wash extracted his hand from hers.
“Cait, I… do elves hold hands everywhere? Is that a thing?”
She sighed, realizing she’d been holding his hand since the swim shop. Dammit.
“It’s not an elven thing it’s an I like you thing. I’m sorry.” She dropped his hand and covered her face. “I’m so sorry. I’m really, really bad at this.”
He looked down at her, and the faint trace of sadness in his eyes was pushed away by a smile. The world brightened.
“No worse than me. Listen… I know there are some things about me that you’ve been wondering about. You know, stuff like—”
The doors opened suddenly on the fourth floor and a young couple barged in, wrapped up in each other’s arms, kissing passionately. The woman, a blonde with a deep tan, managed to hit the button for the pool floor before they crashed against the wall. Caitlin had to dodge out of the way, and Wash grabbed her arm, pulling her back against him.
He was like a solid wall behind her, finger strong around her arm, but gentle and warm.
The kind of touch that would let her be weak, just once in a while. She was a strong woman, and she had always been able to take care of herself. She’d always had to. But his touch made her feel like, every once in a while, she wouldn’t have to be.
The door opened and the couple rolled out the way they had entered. As soon as the door closed Caitlin burst out laughing.
“I thought they were going to get undressed,” Wash said with a grin on his face.
She lingered there, leaning against him, for a fraction longer than she should have, before pulling away.
This was torture. And here she was, volunteering for it. Wallowing in it. And pulling him along, too.
The lift dinged its arrival and the doors opened. Caitlin let out a curse as she stalked out. She was going to ruin this man’s life and break his heart. What was wrong with her?
She fumbled for the manual button to trigger the voice activation.
“Caitlin Vnois.” The door clicked and she stormed in ahead of Wash, desperate to put some distance between them, if only for a moment. Just long enough to let her heart stop beating off the rails and the tingle in her tummy die down.
She stopped short as she saw the man standing in the middle of her room.
“Caitlin, love,” the man said, turning, “I heard you might be in trouble so I thought I would hop over and see what all the bother was about.”
The elf who spoke stood tall and proud. Taller than most elves, but still a few inches shy of Wash’s door-frame-ducking height. He wore his expensive suit almost casually, shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His lips were curved into a brilliant smile that made all the girls swoon, except Caitlin. It irritated the hell out of her.
Wash followed her in. “I can order the food while you—” He pulled up short.
�
��What are you doing here, Agathon?” Caitlin demanded.
Upon seeing Wash, all pretense of a casual visit vanished. Agathon stood up straight, squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw.
“Another one? For Poseidon's sake, woman. How many men am I going to have to share you with?”
Fury shot through her, and she wanted to throw something at him. “Agathon, this is Wash, my friend. He saved my life—twice.” She hated the sound of her voice, wavering as she spoke, but she held firm. “Wash, this is Agathon he is my—”
“Her husband,” Agathon said. “Nice to meet you.”
Wash managed to grasp the elf’s hand in a firm grip, even though he was reeling with shock. When Agathon started to squeeze, Wash simply let him. After a moment with no reaction, the elf gave him a tight-lipped smile and let go.
Whatever air of superiority the elf was trying to hold together around him was dashed, as far as Wash was concerned, with that stupid, childish pissing contest.
Agathon’s hair was dark, but not black like Caitlin. He wore it long and in a tight ponytail, showing off his ears. He had a small sliver of a scar on his cheek running from jaw to eye, which somehow didn’t look like an imperfection on him.
“I’ll let you two have your privacy,” he said to Caitlin, turning back toward the door. “Talk to you later.”
He saw in her eyes she wanted to stop him. To explain. He spoke again, quickly, to forestall her.
“It doesn’t matter. I’ll be downstairs if you need me, until five. If I don’t hear from you by then, I guess I’ll… see you around.”
“Wash…”
“Thank you, Cait. Really.” He squeezed her hand, and then, with a strength he didn’t realize he had, he walked away.
As the door shut behind him he heard Agathon say, “What a gorilla.”
The door shut and the rest of his words were cut off. He didn’t care what… her… husband thought.
The hallway spun and he collapsed against one wall, breathing heavy as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Was he really that far gone, already? Damn him. Damn him to hell. And whatever agony he found there, it was no less than he deserved.
He tried to open his mouth, to whisper some curse at himself, but his throat seized up, and he slid down the wall.
This wasn’t heartache. This wasn’t rejection… it was…
He grunted, forcing his fingers to flex as a massive energy whirled up inside him, too immense for him to contain.
Wash heard someone screaming, and realized it was himself.
“Agathon, you son of a—” Caitlin stopped, trying to control herself. “Why are you here? Why the hell did you tell him you’re my husband?”
He shrugged nonchalantly. “Because I will be eventually, and you know it as well as I do.”
Caitlin turned back to the door Wash had disappeared through with a sound of strangled frustration.
Wash had faced Agathon with a cool reserve she didn’t realize he was capable of, but the look he gave her…
That would haunt her for a long time.
“Honestly, Caitlin, I’m doing you a favor. You know how this story ends so well, you could write the damn book in your sleep.”
She turned to glare at him. They’d been friends as children, but as they aged, Agathon’s arrogance and presumption drove a wedge between them.
In his mind, she belonged to him from the moment they were betrothed, and when he started throwing that weight around, she’d drawn the line. He was one of the many reasons she hadn’t returned home for any extended period, in such a long time.
“I don’t need you to look out for me, Aggy—”
“Clearly,” he said in a dry, sarcastic tone that made her want to punch him in the face.
“Wash has been a much better friend to me than you ever were, dear husband. He’s unique, and—well, what the hell is it to you?”
“Unique? He’s a human, Caitlin. There are ten billion of them last I looked. Unique isn’t a word you can use to describe an ant.”
The bitterness in his voice caught her off guard. He’d never hidden his feelings about humans, but all they learned before the return was from the Atlantean history. Once they tapped into the world’s communications and learned about where humans were now, the possibilities were so much greater. Half the island was still convinced the Egyptians would attack at any moment. But the world was so much more than it was before. If only she could get her people to see that.
“Stop living in the past, this is 2117 AD, not BC. The world has changed, and humans run it. Poseidon, look at yourself. You’re dressed like you’re in line to attend a royal gathering at court.”
His suit was cut with one arm bare for dueling, the other was pleated for extra padding. Duels weren’t uncommon, but given the skill all elves were trained to with the sword, it was rare for any serious injury to occur, let alone death.
Once both audience and challenger knew they were bettered, honor was satisfied.
“I happen to like my outfit. And so do the ladies. Not that I need something to improve my chances—”
Caitlin saw red. She stomped toward him, fist balling to hit him in the nose—
A scream interrupted her. It was muffled by the walls but she’d heard it all the same. A man in pain.
Wash?
Caitlin spun on her heel and ran for the door, light from outside filled the cracks. When the door slid open bright blue light nearly blinded her. With one hand up to block the glare, she scanned the hallway for the diver.
“What is this?” Agathon shouted from behind her. She barely heard him, the roar of wind and snap of electricity blocked out all sound.
She ignored him. Kneeling down she crawled out into the hallway. The light's intensity grew and she heard the scream again, as loud as the first and as filled with pain.
Even with her hand up, it was too bright. She squeezed her eyes shut and felt her way to the source of the scream.
She bumped into something soft and hard at the same time.
“Wash!” she shouted. “What’s happening?” Along with the light, an unnatural wind rushed through the hall roaring as if unleashed from Hades itself.
“Cait!” Wash croaked. “Help me… it… hurts—” His words were cut off as he screamed again.
She had to stop it. Whatever was happening, she had to stop it. There was an immense amount of power flowing through him, and he had no focus.
Caitlin grasped her astéri and opened up. Sparks sprayed around her, snapping in the air ionizing it with a massive discharge. Her nose hairs burned from the intense ozone, and then the vibration started.
Caitlin leaned against Wash, putting as much of her in contact with him as she could. Her teeth chattered from the disruption and her stomach threatened revolt.
“Wash!” she screamed over the din.
One hand on his neck she drew him in, their faces touched and the world exploded. Caitlin grunted from the pain, as she was ripped from her body and plunged into the astral world to hover above the hotel.
The building dimmed into an ethereal shadow of itself. San Juan followed, and Caitlin could see every spark of life in the city, each person as they went about their lives. The healthy ones, the sick ones. Then she looked back at Wash.
As tall and strong as the man was, his astral form was even more so. Earlier, she’d caught a glimpse of it when they went to confront Milo… but that had been nothing in comparison to what she saw now. A solid, muscular body of blue and white. Lightning snapped off him, filling the air around the astral with a storm of arcane energy. Even in a place with no wind, it pulled at her like a tornado.
But it wasn’t Wash. She could see him through the haze, kneeling on the floor of the hotel, energy bursting from him. He had no more astral presence than any other human, except… something else was inside him, somehow…
Caitlin’s hair whipped wildly around her as the astral storm revolving around Wash expanded. Her mind reeled at the impossibility of
what she was seeing and feeling. She’d spent countless hours in the astral as part of her training and she’d never felt the pull of wind or heard the clap of thunder.
“You’re killing him!” she cried to the blue and white figure that was Wash and somehow was not.
He cannot contain my power. The voice echoed in her head, not with words but with power so deep and vast that Caitlin’s mind shuddered away from its enormity. In comparison, she was small and insignificant.
She backed away, needing perspective to see past him. The manasphere pulsed. Waves of energy flowed from all around her, into him. The pull of his magic was like an endless well, drawing more magical energy than even she could safely conduct flowed through his mortal shell, burning him up.
“Please!” she shouted at the entity. “There must be another way.” There was no malevolence in the glowing form. This was no apparition or mana leech. It just… was.
Even as the mana flowed into him, a different kind of power pulsed from him. Not in the astral world, she realized, but in the real world.
She turned around and watched as the power crashed into the Ocean. The seas grew rough, and the wind began to blow in earnest. Little lights—people—ran in every direction, seeking shelter from the sudden gale. White caps crashed into the harbor. Alarms, distant, as if under water, warbled to life. The real world was but a shadow in this place. Nothing in this place could affect the physical world. So how was this happening?
All the energy was building up in a spirit that was inhabiting Wash’s body, and the power was killing his physical form. The energy coming out of him was seeping, flowing, bursting out, destroying his physical body as it did so.
She whipped back around. “Stop! Don’t use him. Use my astéri. If you must unleash your energy do it through me, not him.
The glowing form turned its flashing eyes on her. Wisps of power stretched out in every direction. With each passing second, he threatened to drown out the astral world.