by Alyssa Day
As they reentered the corridor, closing the door behind them, Ven clapped a hand on Justice’s shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie that felt familiar. Like something Justice himself might have done only four short months ago.
Four long months ago.
Now it took everything he had not to flinch from the contact. He warded the room with healthy, familiar Atlantean magic, forcing the voice of the Nereid to silence in his head. None would enter Keely’s room while she slept; the powerful wards would ensure that. The dawn would bring what it would, especially if Alaric were back. But for tonight, at least, Justice could rest.
Rest, and pray to all the gods that he would not dream.
Keely woke up facedown in a pile of cloud-like silken pillows, still fully clothed except for her boots. Bolting up out of bed, she stared wildly around the room that she’d been too tired to really get a good look at the night before.
She was entirely alone and didn’t want to look too closely at the little twist of relief—or was it disappointment?—in her stomach. Certainly it couldn’t be regret that Justice was nowhere to be seen.
Or at least so she tried to convince herself.
Wandering around the room, she felt a feminine delight in the pale green silks and complementary cream furnishings. It was a study in understated elegance that enriched its occupant instead of making her feel inferior. Some sort of interior design psychology, no doubt. Or maybe it was an Atlantean gift. Beauty everywhere she looked.
And the view out the window was a Cinderella fantasy dream. The palace gardens stretched for acres and acres of dazzling color and lush greenery crisscrossed by paths of multicolored stone. She wanted, more than anything, to climb out the window and escape to the peaceful serenity of the gardens. Away from warriors and craziness and tension.
Instead, she resigned herself to putting on her Dr. McDermott face and finding out what they wanted and—just maybe—how she could help them.
Help him. Justice was never far from her thoughts, as much as she might wish otherwise. Or did she? Her own mind was becoming as divided as his was.
A knock on the door saved her from any further internal examination, and she opened it to find a silver-haired woman wearing a simple belted cotton dress and comfortable shoes. She had one hand on a wheeled cart. A housekeeper, perhaps.
“I’ve fresh clothes and a tray of coffee and juice for you, my lady,” the woman said, smiling.
“That’s wonderful. Thank you so much. And it’s Keely, please. Just Keely.”
Keely held the door open, trying not to bliss out at the lovely aromas, as the woman rolled the silver cart into the room. There was definitely some delicious coffee in Atlantis, so one worry at least was resolved.
“I’m sure you’d like to freshen up, Keely,” the housekeeper said, warmth in her voice and smile. “I’ll return in half an hour to escort you to the princes.” She pointed to an inset panel on the wall, and the second button on it. “Just push this if you need anything further before then.”
With more smiles and nods, the housekeeper left the room, closing the door behind her.
Keely spent several minutes enjoying a couple of cups of coffee with plenty of sugar and cream swirled into the rich depths while she stared out the window, taking in all of the wonders of the view. Again and again, her gaze was drawn to the dome that covered the entire city. It was awe-inspiring. Whether magic or technology had fashioned it, it was simply amazing. The force of pressure of the water that must bear down on it, day after day . . .
Well. There were certain things a girl didn’t need to freak out about before she had a shower.
Sometime later, showered, caffeinated, and feeling almost human again, she checked out the clothes. Remarkably, they were all her size or close to it. She chose a simple green shirt and tan pair of pants and pulled her own boots back on over a clean pair of socks, putting aside all the lovely dresses and skirts and other frilly clothes the housekeeper had brought. It made her feel more in control to dress in something akin to her standard work uniform. She’d learned early on that nobody took seriously a scientist who wore lace or frills.
Of course her gloves were safely in place. Even touching something as neutral as the walls in a place this ancient would likely send her into a trance.
The housekeeper returned, as promised, and led her through corridors whose walls were covered with the most glorious tapestries she’d ever seen. She’d love the opportunity to spend hours, or even days, studying them.
Later, perhaps. If they’d let her.
When they arrived at a door guarded by two somber-faced warriors, the housekeeper knocked and then ushered her into the same room she and Justice had wound up in the night before.
Conlan and Ven were already there.
“Please be welcome. I trust your rest was undisturbed?” Conlan said, bowing slightly.
“Honestly, a train could have roared through the room and I probably wouldn’t have noticed,” she admitted, grinning. “I was pretty tired. I’d had a little excitement, you know.”
Ven grinned back at her. “Way to bounce back, Doc. You’re my kind of scientist, I can tell.” He gestured to the laden side table. “Please help yourself to breakfast. We’ve already eaten.”
“Riley sends her regrets, but she is having a difficult time with the pregnancy, and Erin is with her, as well,” Conlan said.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Keely said. “Riley is your wife?”
“She will soon be my lady wife and queen, yes. Evidently we are having a priest or an Elvis,” he said dryly, but the warmth in his voice and the heat in his eyes told her that Riley was very loved, indeed.
A tiny twinge of regret pinged deep inside Keely’s chest. No man had ever looked that way when he’d talked about her.
She shook it off. She wasn’t usually so sentimental. Must be something about being in Cinderella’s castle that made her think about Prince Charming.
Or Prince Tall, Blue-Haired, and Deadly.
While she ate, they pored over maps on the long table, speaking quietly and casting the occasional glance at her. Keely dove into the food like the starving woman she was. When the roar in her stomach faded down to a warm rumble of contentment, she took another sip of coffee and then carefully placed her fragile, almost translucent china cup on the table, resisting the urge to turn it over and examine it like one of her ancient artifacts.
Anyway, artifact was probably the wrong word to use. An artifact was something long buried and forgotten, hidden in the mists of time. This delicate china, fired by a process she’d never before seen, was part of their breakfast dishes. It boggled the mind.
The archaeologist in her wanted to cheer or stand up and do cartwheels. Certainly, she was itching to go get her tools from her pack that she’d reluctantly left in the bedroom, go outside, and dig somewhere, just for the heck of it.
The excitement suddenly drained out of her like helium from a punctured balloon. They hadn’t invited her there for digging. They knew what she was. They probably had certain artifacts already lined up for her.
They’d called her an object reader, as though the term had precedence in their history. It was both shocking and wonderfully validating to be accepted for something that was so integrally a part of her. However, just as she used tools in her work, she recognized when someone else wanted to use her. She had no intention of being a chisel in their hands, at least not until she got some answers. Foremost among them: where was Justice?
She poured herself another cup of the delicious coffee and then sat back in her chair, casting a measured glance at Ven and Conlan. It took less than a minute for them to feel the weight of her stare, and they both looked up at her.
“Is there something else we might get for you?” Ven’s smile was utterly charming and totally guileless. It might even have fooled somebody who’d been born yesterday.
Keely wasn’t that gullible. “Yes, actually. I’d like to see Justice. I’d like to see him right now
.”
“We’re sure he’ll be along any moment—”
She cut Conlan off, choosing not to worry if there were any penalties for interrupting royalty in Atlantis. “Right. You said that. Nearly half an hour ago. How do I know you don’t have him locked up in some Atlantean dungeon?”
Ven raised an eyebrow and grinned. “No wonder Justice is so crazy about you. Not much frightens you, does it?”
“Lots of things frighten me. Global warming. Poverty in Third World countries. Genocide. Snakes. I hate snakes,” she said flatly. “But you two don’t scare me, and if you’ve harmed Justice in any way, you’re going to have to answer to me.”
Ven smiled at her as if he were a teacher delighted with a prize student. “Snakes, huh? Is that common to all archaeologists or have you just watched too many Indiana Jones movies?”
She stood up, pushing her chair back and out of the way, and bared her teeth at him in the fiercest expression she could muster. “Keep laughing at me, and I’ll see if I can find a whip, Your Highness.”
It was Conlan’s turn to smile as Ven clutched at his heart with a mock expression of pain on his face. “Oh, that’s just hitting below the belt. Don’t Your Highness me, if you want us to be the good friends I know we’re going to be,” Ven said.
“I don’t need any more friends,” Keely said, enunciating clearly. “I’m sure you don’t need any more enemies, not to mention any international incidents. So tell me where Justice is—right now—or you’re going to have both on your hands.”
Chapter 26
She felt Justice before she heard him. Warmth seemed to flow into the room and wrap itself around her, carrying the scents of salt water and sea air. Pure relief combined with utter contentment swept through the tension in her nerve endings, calming and soothing. She could almost feel the whisper of his breath in her hair, the sound of his voice in her ear.
Justice had arrived, and her reaction was so simply and unreservedly joyous that it scared her even more than those snakes they’d been discussing. Her body and heart seemed literally to sway toward him, like a flower turning to the sun. How had he broken through her defenses so easily and so powerfully?
The hard length of his body was suddenly pressed against her back as he wrapped his arms around her. “Even after everything I have forced you to endure, you fight for me, mi amara. I have done nothing to deserve you, but I will never let you go,” he murmured in her ear.
She stiffened and tried to pull away, the primitive claim he’d staked on her setting off all her warning alarms, but his arms were like steel bands holding her in place against the heat of his hard body. A struggle would only cost her a measure of dignity and do nothing to reassure Ven and Conlan, who were staring at Justice with a mixture of gladness and wary reserve.
She knew Justice, knew him more than she’d even known anyone, in spite of the short time since they’d actually met. She’d lived with his presence for years, and she’d seen the horror of his life and his terrible loneliness through her visions. It wouldn’t harm anything to let him believe she was completely on his side, no matter what. That she wasn’t afraid of him.
She wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t the truth, anyway. If they could use the Star of Artemis . . .
“That’s it. We need to use the Star,” she burst out. “It can help him. I saw it in my vision.”
Conlan and Ven exchanged glances, and she caught the skepticism.
“You don’t believe me.”
Conlan shook his head. “It’s not as simple as that. Although there are legends that the Star of Artemis can heal a mind broken by the stress of battle or through some injury or illness, none of us know whether the legends are true. The Star was one of the seven gems scattered to the far reaches of the earth before the Cataclysm. Only two have been returned to us and those only quite recently.”
“We have no idea where it is,” Ven added. “And although we have a fair idea that you’re right about the Star, some of the rest of what you’re telling us is impossible. Nereus could not have had a wife.”
“I know, I know. Priesthood, celibacy, whatever,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Times change. You admit you don’t know where the Star is. Isn’t it possible that Poseidon’s priests used to be able to get married, and you just don’t know about it? Liam told me that Nereus lived eight thousand years ago. It’s not exactly like you have eight-thousand-year-old wedding photos lying around, do you?”
Justice finally relaxed his hold on her, and she gently pulled away from him and began to pace up and down the room, thinking out loud. “Anyway, it’s not just the Star of Artemis. You need to have every one of those gems in order for Atlantis to rise. That is, if you want Atlantis to rise. By the way, what ocean are we underneath? How far down are we? Why haven’t submarines picked you up with their technology? Or naval aircraft, or even satellite imaging?”
She looked to Justice, but his gaze had turned inward and his fists were clenched at his side, as though he were fighting another internal battle. She only hoped he’d continue to win, because she didn’t want to know what would happen if the Nereid took control. Especially since Justice wore his sword sheathed on his back, the hilt rising behind his shoulder. The Nereid let loose with a sword.
That would be bad.
As though he heard her thoughts, Justice smiled at her briefly, reassurance in his eyes. He was trying to let her know that he was winning the battle, so she flashed him a brilliant smile of support and belief in return.
It wasn’t all that hard to smile at him, crappy circumstances or not. He was so beautiful it actually hurt to look at him, even in his simple white shirt and dark pants. He looked like he belonged in princely robes or carved in marble and up on a pedestal. She allowed herself to spend a moment simply savoring the sight of him.
His hair was braided back again and, for a moment, she let herself imagine the tactile pleasure of slowly unbraiding it. Feeling the blue waves slip like silk through her fingers and fall like a curtain over her body.
Heat washed through her and she abruptly turned to examine one of the walls so that none of them saw her telltale blush. A couple of deep breaths later, she put her game face back on and still wanted those answers. “Well?”
Conlan took a seat at the table and poured himself a cup of coffee. She noticed he had a large, sturdy mug, not one of the delicate china cups. So maybe that had been the guest china she’d been served from.
Or maybe her brain was trying to distract her with trivia to take her mind off the fact that she was arguing with Atlantean royalty underneath the ocean somewhere.
Way to go, Keely.
“Those are questions and answers for another time,” Conlan said quietly, but with a hint of steel in his voice. Definitely giving off a “don’t push your luck” vibe. “We haven’t survived for millennia by disclosing our secrets so easily, even to such a brilliant scientist as yourself.”
“Charming, while giving me nothing. You guys are good,” she said, putting a healthy dose of admiration in her voice. No matter. She was patient. She could wait.
“In regard to your visions, although my instincts tell me that you are speaking the truth, or at least the truth as you believe it to be, I would be a poor leader, indeed, if I were to take your word for something so critical,” Conlan said slowly. “However, if there were some way you could prove to me the validity of your visions—”
“Yes,” Keely said. “Sure. If you—”
“Absolutely not,” Justice said harshly. “We have caused Keely to suffer far too much. We will not allow you to bring her to any further harm.”
Keely whirled around, her heart in her throat. She heard it in his voice, never mind the plural self-reference again. The Nereid was back, and Justice’s fury over the potential threat to her was dangerously near to causing his fragile control to topple. She took a step toward him with some thought of comforting or helping, but he moved with a blur of speed and was suddenly across the room from her, stil
l clenching his fists.
“Do not,” he growled at her, the words suddenly rich with a liquid accent she’d heard before—from his mother in the throne room during her visions. Then he turned the force of all that rage on his brothers. “We have seen Keely for centuries in our vision quest. She is ours, and you will not harm her.”
Before Keely could move, Ven had somehow positioned himself so that he stood between Keely and Justice. He spoke calmly, as if trying to soothe a frenzied animal.
Or simply a brother who’d gone insane when a geas shattered.
“Justice, you know we don’t want to hurt her. You know we want to do everything we can to help you. Am I talking to both of you now? Have you gone Sybil on me?”
Suddenly, shockingly, Justice threw back his head and laughed. It was a warm, hearty, normal laugh, with nothing chilling or alien about it. A wave of relief hit Keely with such force that her knees weakened from the onslaught. He’d done it. He was in control.
When Justice stopped laughing, he looked at Ven and grinned. His eyes were clear again. “You and your damn movies. The Nereid has no frame of reference for Sybil or Dawn of the Dead or I Was a Teenage Werewolf, either. Maybe that’s the trick. I can battle the other half of my soul with B movies.”
Ven very subtly moved so that he was no longer blocking Justice’s view of Keely. “You see? All these years, you goons mocked me for my excellent taste in quality filmmaking, and now it just might save you from losing your marbles.”
Conlan folded his arms across his chest and looked at Keely. “I thought having one little brother was bad enough. Now I’ve got two of them to deal with. I may abdicate the throne and move to Fiji, where it’s quiet.”
Keely snapped her mouth shut, from where it had been hanging open down to about her kneecaps. Staring at them in disbelief, she put her hands on her hips. “Are you kidding me? Justice’s sanity and the fate of all Atlantis might be at stake here, and you’re making bad jokes?”
“We’re guys,” Justice said, still grinning. “It’s what we do.”