by Devyn Quinn
Until then . . .
He tapped his fingers on the laminated tabletop. What to do about Queen Magaera. Honestly, she was worth nothing unless she had power. And she had no power without the scepter. Showing her off as a sideshow oddity simply wasn’t acceptable. More than money, more than power, the one thing he wanted was the sole thing that had always eluded him.
Respect.
As an ambassador of a powerful Mer queen, he’d have that. In spades. Otherwise he’d just be reduced to the level of managing a freak act, like those sleazy agents who pimped people with inexplicable medical deformities like the Elephant Man.
A shiver trekked down his spine. No. Definitely not.
Sighing, he continued digging into Gail Davis’s life. Two hours later he had a marriage certificate, this time filed in Mimosa Springs, Florida. Gail Davis, at the ripe old age of twenty-four, had married James “Jimmy” Newsome, listed as twenty-nine years of age.
“Hmm,” he muttered. “Small-town Maine girl ends up landing in Florida, another state almost completely surrounded by water.” Striking out on her own would have been hard enough without the Mer stigma attached.
Following the leads he’d found, Jake typed out a few more inquiries.
Ah, look here. Birth records.
Approximately nine months after their marriage, in 1988, Jimmy and Gail had been blessed with twin daughters. Kendra and Sandra. How cute. The names were almost too precious. No doubt they dressed the girls in identical outfits and paraded around in one of those strollers made for two babies.
It was enough to make him puke.
Nevertheless, the thrill of discovery went all the way to his toes. “Hello, girls,” he whispered and chuckled.
A few curious heads swiveled his way, wondering what the joke was.
But Jake wasn’t sharing. He was all wrapped up in his own little world, scheming and dreaming about how to make life better for himself. In this world there were the “haves” and the “have nots.” Having had a taste of both, he was determined to put himself back in the former category as soon as possible. He couldn’t dump Jean Luc fast enough and get back to being his old self, name and all.
He needed personal information. Present location and addresses. Switching the direction of his search, he logged into a social networking site popular with college-aged kids, Connect Friends. His old page was still there.
In less than thirty seconds, he’d pulled up the page for Kendra Davis. Her page was loaded with tons of personal information, along with a cadre of photos of her with her twin, Sandra, and various friends. The girls were typical sun-kissed Florida blondes, pretty and pert. They were also oh, so unwise about the real world and the predators lurking in it.
Shit. It was too easy, like sticking a foot in front of a blind man to trip him up. Young people had no qualms whatsoever about throwing their personal information up on the Internet for anyone to find—and use—against them.
Kendra Davis, he now knew, was a senior at Strayer University. She’d majored in graphic art and design, and was looking forward to her forthcoming graduation. She had a boyfriend, a nice-looking dude named Kevin, and a little mongrel dog named Peetems.
Aw. They were the perfect all-American couple, clean-cut young Democrats. Just one look at their smiling faces and you knew the future would be better and brighter.
Switching programs, Jake logged into Google Earth.
He loved the fact they could make the trip to Florida without leaving the water. Thanks to 9/11, entering and leaving the United States was a nightmare because of heightened security.
Jake absently drummed his fingers on the tabletop. He would most likely have to come ashore under the cover of darkness, literally sneaking into the country.
No, it wasn’t the best plan, but it was the only one that made sense. They needed the elusive artifact, and that meant making contact with one of Gail’s children. He hoped like hell one of the girls knew where it had ended up. Otherwise the entire endeavor would be one huge waste of time.
If there was one thing Jake Massey hated, it was spinning his wheels. He wanted things done—his way, the right way and as soon as possible. Nothing else would satisfy.
A pair of female arms wrapping around his shoulders interrupted his solitude. A scent akin to damp musty linen permeated his nostrils. “My consort,” a familiar female voice whispered in his ear. “This thing you call shopping is a delight. The bounty of your world is endless.” She laughed a sound that grated on his nerves. “And the lessers . . . they are so eager to serve.”
Jake frowned. If there was one thing he hated, it was a clingy woman. Magaera made it clear to anyone who cared to look that he belonged to her.
The waitress who’d spent the afternoon hustling his coffee shot him a dirty look. Any chance he’d had to make time with her vanished like a puff of smoke in the wind.
Jake’s mood, which had been great a minute before, deflated faster than a punctured balloon. No stray nooky tonight. And that was a shame, too. He liked variety, and a lot of it. The idea of monogamy had never been hardwired into his genetic structure.
Of course, right now he had to appease the Mer queen. She was still his best ticket to bigger and better things, and if he could exploit her and bed her, then all the better.
“They always are,” he grated through gritted teeth. When you’re flashing a wad of cash. It cost money, a lot of money, to keep a Mer queen in the luxury she was accustomed to. The 1.9 million he’d stashed away was slowly dwindling down into the red zone. At this rate he’d soon be completely broke.
Niklos glanced over his shoulder at the screen. “Any luck?” The look in his eyes pleaded for a break. His demotion from formidable smuggler to squiring a Mer queen around town wasn’t exactly sitting well with the Greek at all.
It didn’t help that none of the other Mer females would give him the time of day. With his swarthy skin and black hair, Niklos did not appeal to any of the women as a potential mate. They found him inferior. Common.
Jake would have to agree. But he’d never say it to his partner’s face, as it was better not to insult the man at this point. Niklos still had his uses.
Shutting the lid on the borrowed laptop, Jake glanced up at his partner. “I think our luck is about to take a turn for the better.”
They were one step closer to the scepter.
But he didn’t want to say anything to Magaera. Not yet.
Not until he was sure he could lay his hands on it.
And Jake Massey was silently betting ten to one he could do just that.
Queen Magaera wasn’t a stupid woman. Even if she didn’t have the abilities as an empath at her disposal, she would have had to be deaf and blind to miss Jake Massey’s manipulations.
As it was, she knew exactly the type of man she had on her hands. He was manipulative, a liar, and a user. Which, in Ishaldi and in the human world, made him the perfect consort. A scheming queen needed someone who would protect her in every way, even as he spun the webs of his own devious schemes.
So far Jake had handled the job admirably. He wanted power, hungered for it the way a slave struggled against his chains and felt starved for freedom.
Though many centuries had passed since the human and Mer realms had met and merged, it had taken her very little time to adjust to the new sights and sounds around her. Nothing had changed much. Ships still crossed the seas, trade and commerce was strong, and even a stable money system appeared to be in place. Civilizations might rise and fall, languages might change, but underneath it all the baser emotions of conniving, greed, and one-upmanship were still the way the world operated.
Jake was a conniver. And he was greedy. He envisioned himself as due to reap the rewards the world had to offer.
But he didn’t know what true power was.
The archaeologist believed he wanted the respect of his peers, the recognition that he alone held the key to a lost world.
Magaera knew better. She wanted neither respect n
or recognition.
She wanted power. The ability to make the ground tremble beneath men’s feet, to crack the skies above with a single command. She wanted humans to come to their knees, acknowledge her as the reincarnation of Atargatis.
But having the ambitions of a living goddess was one thing. Actually attaining the power quite another. Nothing would happen without direct action. As much as she hated having her hands practically tied together, she still had one advantage.
Jake knew how to get things done. He knew the ways of his world and how to manipulate circumstances to his advantage. Rather than thinking of him as a hindrance, she’d begun to think of him as a useful, but ultimately disposable, pawn.
That last surviving piece was the most important of all. Jake knew how to find it. Once she had the valuable artifact in her hand, she wouldn’t need the feckless human to do the talking for her. She’d be able to communicate in a way that would force mankind to sit up and take notice of the Mer.
And so I will sit back, she counseled herself. And have patience.
As for Jake . . .
In the interim, he could serve her wants and satisfy her needs. His own ambition would be his downfall. She’d have no qualms about executing her consort when she no longer found him useful.
Humans, after all, were expendable.
Chapter 17
Blake winced as the coroner’s assistants uncovered the body of the hostile female killed on Little Mer Island. This was definitely a part of the investigation he would have preferred to skip. He did not like being caught unaware and didn’t relish the fact he hadn’t been briefed beforehand. He had no desire to watch people digging around in someone’s carcass, be it human or alien.
Carefully preserved, the Mer’s remains had been thoroughly dissected by doctors seeking to learn more about a mermaid’s internal anatomy. Not that there was much they could find out. The woman had taken a direct blast to the abdomen. Curling, blackened flesh peeled away from the remaining bits and pieces.
Blake’s stomach rolled, sending a wave of acid up the back of his throat. He swallowed hard. He wished he hadn’t had a second ham, cheese, and egg biscuit and an extra cup of coffee. Even though the initial shock had passed, he had a feeling it wouldn’t be in his stomach much longer. At least he had a sheet of glass separating him from the examination room. He doubted he could have taken the odor.
Dennis Thompson stood beside him. The look on his face said he’d rather be elsewhere, too. “Going to be a long day,” he muttered.
Blake nodded. “We’ve only been here four days and it feels like a century.” Aside from placing a few quick phone calls to Trevor, he hadn’t been able to give his son any quality time.
It also didn’t help that Debra was still whining about the move to California. She was pulling every dirty trick, including refusing to delay their next court appearance until after he could shake free from his current assignment. It was true his lawyer would still be showing up. But it didn’t bode well that a father fighting for more visitations would have to miss a court appearance. It was entirely possible the judge would rule in her favor.
And that would hit him. Hard.
And then there was the other side, the fact that his work had gotten him tangled up with Gwen Lonike. Though they had agreed their first night together would also be their last, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Especially the way she’d jumped to his defense when he was attacked. Even though it had meant totally exposing herself and a Mer’s abilities, she hadn’t hesitated to help him. He need only look into her eyes to know she had feelings for him.
Feelings he refused to take advantage of.
He’d already decided against letting the agency know he’d slept with her. And no matter how hard Fletcher might push for a closer relationship, she’d just have to be disappointed when he reported complete and total failure. He’d just shrug and say he wasn’t any sort of Casanova. As for Gwen . . .
He closed his eyes, easily calling to mind the more provocative images of their single sultry encounter. She’d set his senses reeling with waves of carnal delight as her lips had blazed a path from the curve of his chin to the silk-encased tautness of his shaft. Her mouth closing over him had brought the heat to a boil. Desire and grasping hands had brought them together, her limbs coaxed wide by his eagerness to enjoy the pleasure of her sex. Raking his fingers through the fiery mass of her hair, he’d slammed his weight into hers.
And heaven had followed.
Blake had to admit he was totally gone on her. Caught like a fly in her honeyed web, he found himself thinking about her, constantly and continually. He wanted to be with her, and not just when they were making love. They got along just as well out of bed, and the hours they’d spent together had given him an intimate glimpse of her life. Finally free to really share herself with someone who wouldn’t judge her for being different, Gwen was beginning to open up. His glimpse into the Mer world was fascinating.
It was, unfortunately, something he couldn’t enjoy. A frown pulled his lips into a downward arc. The gaze reflected back at him in the glass was shadowed with guilt. Though they’d agreed to keep things nonsexual, deceiving Gwen about his true feelings felt wrong.
He wanted more, damn it. Exclusivity. One on one.
To follow the road and see where it would lead. Without lies. Without deceit. And without the government poking an intrusive nose into their personal life.
“Goddamn it.” The oath slipped out under his breath. Both he and Gwen were prisoners of someone else’s agenda and he didn’t like it one little bit. He was being manipulated just like she was. The nooses were tightening around their necks, too. The light at the end of the tunnel no longer looked like a way to freedom. It looked like an oncoming freight train, one that would smash them both flat.
The devastation could never be undone, either.
Dennis Thompson mistook his utterance for something else entirely. “Damn disgusting.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “These doctors look happier than a kid in a candy store with a twenty-dollar bill.”
Blake had to force himself to put his personal thoughts aside. Tucking away his memories of Gwen for later review, he slipped on his mask of cold indifference. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Just do. He’d always been good at following orders. It was best to continue doing so until he could figure a way out of this mess.
Face obscured behind a surgical mask, Dr. Yadira poked through the woman’s open torso, using a pair of forceps to move vital parts around for better viewing. “I see the remnants of the alien organ, what they call the symbiote,” she reported. “But there’s too much damage for any sort of extraction. It’s shriveled into nothing.”
Thompson hit a buzzer so he could be heard in the lab. “Any way to extract DNA from it?”
Yadira shook her head. “We’ve tried. The few strands we’ve extracted had been incomplete, most likely because of the decay of the body. The samples we’ve obtained from the live specimens have been promising, though. From what we can determine, the Mer DNA carries an additional gene sequence we can neither replicate nor explain at this point.”
Blake pressed his lips together. He didn’t like the term live specimens one bit. The scientists still considered the Mer to be little more than lab rats. “Why do you need that thing anyway?”
Thompson let his hand drop. “We’re hoping this is something we can eventually replicate in all humans.” His eyes briefly widened and flared with something akin to glee. “Everything they can do seems to be centered around that particular organ. We know they are able to breed with humans just fine, though we don’t understand the process that allows them to only engender female offspring. Something during the gestation period seems to kill off male sexual chromosomes and imprint female Mer ones.”
Blake kept his expression neutral. “Looks like you’ve been studying my reports.”
Thompson shrugged. “You’ve gotten her to talk, and that’s excellent.” He shook his head. “We’re still
trying to get a bead on that scepter, whatever it may be.” He rolled his eyes. “If such a thing actually exists.”
“You might want to take what they say a little more seriously,” Blake warned. “So far we still don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with here. As primitive as it might look to our eyes, their technology far surpasses our own. Crystal-powered lasers is something we can’t even begin to touch on.”
Pondering his words a moment, Thompson puckered his lips thoughtfully. “That’s why it’s your job to keep pumping them,” he said. “We need to know everything about this species. What they are, what dangers they present and—most important—how to contain their threat.”
A spike of guilt cut right through Blake’s conscience. He hated pushing Gwen and her sisters for more details to add to his paperwork. But the girls had been very forthcoming, answering his questions as honestly as possible.
He wished he could simply date the woman instead of spy on her.
Blake forced himself to offer a nonchalant shrug. “Just doing my job.”
Thompson chuckled obscenely and gave him a slap on the back. “Now, if you could only get her into bed, Whittaker. You really need to work harder on your seduction techniques.”
It took every ounce of self-restraint Blake possessed not to slug the nasty little bastard right then and there.
Blake cleared his throat. “She’s shown no interest in me, sir,” he countered, speaking in a cold, clipped manner. The asshole was beginning to wiggle under his skin like a maggot. “I can hardly force myself on her.”
Thompson didn’t seem the slightest bit offended. “Just keep trying to work your way into her panties.” He scratched one of his two chins. “We’re just getting started on these things.”
Things.
Blake’s gaze narrowed on Thompson. “They are not things,” he snapped. “They are intelligent beings, able to think and feel and react just the way humans do.”