Lords of Atlantis Boxed Set 2

by Starla Night

  “You’ve been a great support.” Jen ordered a chocolate lava cake to share.

  Afterward, she reached into her purse to call the guys for a pickup. “I haven’t had this much fun in years. Or this much wine.”

  “Let’s not interrupt what might be their dinner.” Sydney covered Jen’s phone to stop her from dialing. “Let’s walk.”

  “I am not walking. I’ll get arrested.”

  “You’re not that drunk.” But then again, she wasn’t so sure. They caught a cab.

  And she didn’t want to talk in front of the driver, so…

  Nerves screamed like over-tired toddlers in her ears. Sydney sucked in a deep breath and let it out. The sun was just starting to set.

  The cab let them out across the street.

  Jen muttered something to herself about diving.

  Sydney faced the artful stucco-white Azores rental house. On the other side of the gate, Ian’s rental sedan rested in the driveway.

  Now.

  “Jen.”

  Her distracted friend turned.

  Sydney hesitated. “There’s something I was supposed to say.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Uh, well, the thing is…”

  Growl-chunk-clunk.

  Sydney jumped. A clunker van started up down the street. She and Jen both stared at it because it was so loud.

  And Sydney was too eager for any delay and hated herself for that.

  The van rolled down the street.

  Sydney backed against the neighboring house to let it pass, but it slowed. The driver was some lanky college kid who stared at her with unfriendliness.

  On the other side, the passenger rolled down the window and asked a muffled question to Jen.

  “That’s us.” Jen hugged her purse.

  A low warning pinged in Sydney’s chest.

  Something about the driver. The van. Everything.

  Even though they were standing in front of their rental, a hundred feet from the deadly warriors, the pressure seemed to drop and the street had never looked so isolated.

  She needed to get Jen out of here. Now.

  Sydney walked around the back of the van because … well, because honestly, she thought the driver might try to run her over if she walked in front — and saw Jen standing way too close to the open window. In the passenger’s seat was a cocky young college-aged kid in a stained, sleeveless surfer shirt.

  “My friend has a question,” the surfer kid said. He was American like them — weird — and sounded vaguely Californian.

  The back passenger door opened. Another college-aged kid — this one with wonky teeth and uneven glasses — spread out a street map of the Azores.

  Sydney hurried up to Jen to grab her. They had to leave.

  Jen stumbled back. “Oh, we’re not from around here.”

  She knocked into Sydney.

  Sydney wobbled on the uneven cobblestone.

  “That’s okay.” The surfer kid’s door opened and closed. He stood behind Sydney. His voice darkened. “You can both answer this question.”

  The glasses kid lunged and grabbed Jen.

  “What? Hey!”

  The surfer shoved Sydney. Wham. She fell on one knee, bruising it.

  Jen’s legs flailed in the van. She shrieked.

  Sydney shoved to her feet. Run—

  Smack.

  She fell into the van on top of Jen. They struggled. The kid grabbed her legs and threw her inside. She hit her thigh.

  The door slammed shut, and then the passenger’s door. “Go! Go!”

  The engine clunked. Jen’s elbows jammed into Sydney’s gut and boob. The van careened down the street, throwing them against the wall. Her crown smacked into the metal door.

  Shock and pain made it hard to think straight.

  Jen sounded panicked. “What are you doing?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Surfer kid. “We’re kidnapping you.”

  Kidnapping?

  What?

  The van parked. The kids manhandled them, dragging Sydney and Jen into an abandoned warehouse. The impenetrable metal doors closed them in with a final warning.

  This was not good.

  But what could the kids want? They weren’t rich. Well, assuming they didn’t know about Sydney’s Sea Opal. And the Azores weren’t poor.

  The kids dragged her across the warehouse floor to their office. Stacks of boxes were all marked with a vaguely familiar triangle symbol…

  They were forced inside and made to sit on a ratty old couch.

  “What do you want with us?” Jen demanded,

  The surfer kid opened a mini fridge, got out a soda and poured a plastic bag of white powder inside. He turned and offered the soda to them. “Want a drink?”

  Jen seemed to consider it.

  What the heck?

  “No, thank you,” Sydney said loudly.

  Jen licked her lips like she was going to ask.

  Sydney kicked the soda over. It glugged out on the floor. The surfer kid looked surprised and then irritated.

  “Hey,” Jen protested. “Don’t make it worse.”

  “I can’t make it worse.” Sydney nudged her and pointed at boxes. She lowered her voice. “That’s the symbol of the bad guy.”

  “Oh, you saw our symbol.” The surfer kid sighed and pulled out a gun. “Now we have to kill you.”

  Okay.

  Things were officially worse.

  “Not so fast,” Jen said. “We didn’t answer your ‘question’ yet.”

  Amazingly, the kid lowered his gun. “We don’t want anything to do with you. We just want to know about the creatures.”

  Two other lanky, unwashed kids hemmed them in.

  Sydney grabbed Jen. “We’ll tell you whatever you want. Nobody touches us.”

  “Deal.”

  Except the kid, after making them kneel in front of the couch, had the glasses kid come in and wrap duct tape around their ankles and wrists.

  “You said nobody touches us!” Sydney shouted as they yanked her arms behind her back.

  “I’m not touching you,” the glasses kid whined, demonstrating the level of maturity she often saw in her younger day care charges. “The duct tape is.”

  Good lord.

  Sydney huffed. “Does your mother know where you are?”

  “I don’t have one,” he sneered. Not like he was an orphan, but like he was at college and she couldn’t tell him what to do anymore.

  The kids backed off and left them in the lit office all alone.

  So … they’d been kidnapped for what? Were they lying that they wanted to know about the warriors? Had the kids just forgotten to ask any questions? Or were they real idiots?

  “That, I believe,” Sydney muttered.

  “This is the last time I let you and Ian talk me into a personal day.” Jen sighed. “What’s wrong with being a workaholic? Nobody was threatening to shoot me back in Atlanta.”

  Sydney snorted. “We’re about to die and that’s what you have to say?”

  “Shhh. They’re saying something.”

  “What about the women?” one of them asked. “We kidnapped them like you asked, doofus. Now what?”

  “You’re the doofus.”

  “No, you are.”

  “Look,” the more clear-headed surfer guy said, “we can’t just let them go.”

  “Yes!” Sydney shouted, unable to contain herself. “Yes, you can! Let us go and we’ll forget everything! I swear!”

  The kids swore and moved away from the window.

  “This is your last warning!”

  Muffled voices resumed farther away.

  Ah, jeez.

  “And I told Dosan I didn’t need to be protected,” Jen sighed. “Apparently when dating otherworldly creatures, otherworldly rules apply. Not that we’re dating. Because we’re not. Like I said before.”

  Okay, well, if they were going to die then Sydney was going to die with a clear conscious. “Jen.”

  “I’m
so sorry that I forced you to share your vacation with warriors,” she babbled. “Ian was right. I can’t relax. And now it’s cost you big time.”

  “Listen.”

  “I am listening,” she said, not listening. “I’m listening, and I’ve decided first thing when we get out of here, I’m going to tell Dosan no once and for—”

  “Xalu proposed!”

  Jen shut her mouth with a click. Her brows lowered in confusion.

  “I said yes.” Sydney braced.

  “Oh.” Her tone was weirdly distracted. “Congratulations.”

  “Yeah.” She couldn’t stop the justifications for the accusations that hadn’t yet come. “How could I not? Think about it. We get to shape how they run an entire undersea kingdom!”

  “You don’t care about living deep in the ocean, far beneath the surface?”

  “Oh, I am coming to the surface again. I am doing whatever I want. I’m going to be royalty, baby!”

  “And Xalu’s okay with it?”

  “Who cares? I’m his queen! But of course he’s fine with it. He wants his future wife to be happy.”

  Jen’s mouth turned down. “So why’d you keep quiet all this time? I feel like a jerk.”

  Aw. Sydney’s chest squeezed. Jen was really hurt by her silence. That wasn’t what Sydney had intended at all.

  “You were so supportive,” Jen continued, “and I couldn’t be trusted with finding out that my best friend was engaged?”

  Sydney had been supportive? Jen was rewriting history, clearly. “No, I’m sorry. You went through so much with Gary and then you were so dead set against Dosan.”

  “You agreed with Ian. You said I had to reinvent myself so I wouldn’t get hurt.”

  “I did, but you know what? We were wrong. You’re just fine. The problem is them, and you don’t have to reinvent yourself because you are already completely fabulous.”

  She felt like she was clutching at straws and Jen looked like she agreed.

  Sydney tried to raise her hands in defense. Her shoulders slightly lifted; her hands were still taped behind her back. “It’s like Milly said. She’d dive even if she wasn’t a mermaid. It’s who she is. Jen, you’re kind to everyone. Even the people who don’t deserve it. It’s who you are and there’s nothing wrong with it.”

  “I’m not going to be ‘kind’ to these kidnappers when we get out of here.”

  “Well, you’re not an idiot.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sydney shook her head. “Whatever the case, you were right to demand time to work out what’s best for you. If you need to time to consider Dosan’s proposal, then that’s what I was trying to give you. Honestly, I was afraid I’d push you in the wrong direction. How could I not get excited at the thought of ruling an undersea kingdom with my best friend?”

  Jen’s brows lifted. Acknowledging her point.

  “But now,” Sydney sucked in a huge breath and wiggled on her bruised knees, “we might not rule anything but a cemetery.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying to get a leg free so my last act can be kicking one of these idiots in the balls.”

  Jen laughed.

  At least they still had their senses of humor.

  She seemed to come out of her introspection and focus on their surroundings. “Pop the tab on that soda can. That will create a sharp edge.”

  Sydney awkwardly pulled the can off the table and ripped off the tab. It popped. Taking action felt good.

  Jen scooted her back to Sydney’s and put her palms underneath.

  Sydney dropped the tab in her fingers. “You sure about this?”

  “No.” A subtle sawing motion tugged on Sydney’s duct tape. “But we have to try.”

  It was such a relief to get her big secret out.

  On the other hand, it really might be too late. It was angering to think that she’d held back for so long out of concern for Jen and now it was no big deal. Wasn’t it more like what Xalu had said? Sydney had been afraid of changing and so she’d put him through the same thing that the Loser had put her through.

  At least it hadn’t taken her a decade to figure out her mistake.

  There was never a perfect time. If Xalu was here, she’d confess her mistake and apologize for what she’d put him through.

  There was no excuse for what those kids were putting them through.

  Sydney wriggled with discomfort. “Any luck?”

  “The sticky tape is gumming up the sharp edge. It’s still cutting. Slowly.”

  Her best friend always had a plan. Sydney could sense she had one now. “Then once I’m free, then what?”

  “I’ll yell for those guys and you can kick them in the balls.”

  Now she was talking. “I like this plan.”

  Jen worked the tab.

  Sydney strained.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Something. Anything. I don’t want to sit around waiting on others anymore.”

  “Well, hold tight, because this is going to take…”

  She strained again. The tape parted. Relief gushed into her aching shoulders.

  “…no time at all. Great job!”

  Yes! Sydney turned to Jen and grabbed the tab. “Your turn.”

  “Use the pen to puncture the aluminum. You can fashion a makeshift knife from the sharp edge.”

  Sydney fashioned the knife, cut the tape off her ankles, then freed Jen.

  Jen rubbed her sticky wrists. They both had a stretch break, getting limber and preparing. Then, Jen sat again and draped the tape over her ankles and wrists. “I’ll call one of the kids in here, make the call. Then, while he’s distracted, you clobber him.”

  Sydney hid the knife under some papers, draped the tape as if she were still tied up, and nodded.

  Ash trays were hard. She’d beat the first kid — who shouldn’t be smoking — with the ash tray.

  Jen shouted. “Hey! Give me back my cell phone and I’ll call the guys to come on down here!”

  Critical seconds passed.

  Sydney’s anger warred with her fear. She tried to swallow it down and focus.

  The door rattled.

  The kid with glasses poked his head into the office. “You’ll call what guys?”

  “The warriors. Dosan and Xalu.”

  He stared at her blankly.

  “You want to ask us questions about them, right? We’ll call them down and they can answer you.”

  The kid didn’t get it.

  They were seriously dealing with the stupidest kidnappers in the entire world.

  “You don’t want to talk to them?” Jen prodded. “What’s your end goal here?”

  “My knees are killing me,” Sydney said.

  “Mine too. I want everyone to be happy so we can all go home.”

  “We decide when you go home.” The kid puffed out his chest like he wanted a beat down. “We already tried it. Your phone’s broken.”

  “You broke it!” Jen gasped, her accusing tone not faked.

  “I didn’t break it. It’s frozen.”

  “Let me see.”

  He shrugged and carried it to the small coffee table. Her screen glowed white.

  “You’re right.” Jen eased back, shaken. “It’s broken.”

  No. They were not getting derailed because the idiot kids broke Jen’s phone. “Go get mine,” Sydney said.

  He stood.

  “No!” Jen nudged her, lifting a brow and squinting weirdly. “Forget it. Change of plans.”

  Huh? Were they changing plans or was she still supposed to attack? They needed a secret language.

  She pushed. “Jen, I actually think we should wait to hear their voices before we do anything rash.”

  “Why should I listen to you? You waited ten years on a guy who was never going to propose.”

  Whoah. Fake fighting? Sydney went with it. She raised her voice. “How dare you?”

  “What I’m saying is sometimes you just have to act. Whether you’re
prepared or not. Just act.”

  Okay, that was clear.

  Her heart thudded in her throat.

  “Yeah?” Her voice broke. “Fine.”

  The kid backed away from the table. “You guys are acting weird.”

  Fear slid into anger.

  “What are you going to do about it?” Sydney snapped, focusing on the ash tray.

  He flipped her a rude gesture that would get a note sent to his parents and turned to leave.

  She jumped to her feet, scooped up the ashtray, and whacked him on the back of the head.

  Ashes flew.

  He stumbled and closed the door on himself.

  Hand to the back of his head, he complained. “Ow.”

  Women’s self-defense training leaped to her aid. Sydney shoved him down and put a knee in his back. He grunted.

  Sydney grabbed the makeshift knife out of the papers and held it to his throat. “Freeze or I’ll cut you.”

  He froze.

  Jen also froze. She stared.

  Sydney prodded her. “Jen, tape.”

  Jen jolted and grabbed the roll of duct tape. She wrapped it around his wrists and ankles, scolding him in a wobbly voice. “You are in big trouble, mister.”

  “You can’t do this.” He wriggled like a worm. “HEY—mph!”

  Jen stuck the tape over his mouth.

  He grunted.

  “I warned you.” Sydney pushed off his back, rolled him over to the side of the office, and cracked the office door. She peered out. To Jen, she asked the obvious. “So the guys are on the way?”

  “That’s right. And Ian has the number for the police.”

  “We just have to survive.”

  The surfer kid frowned in their direction.

  She backed away from the door.

  His frown deepened. He started toward them.

  She closed the crack. “Ooh, there’s that surfer kid.” She backed away from the door and lifted the ashtray.

  “Hey, G?” The surfer kid pushed open the door. “You oh—”

  Sydney brought down the ashtray.

  The surfer kid wheeled and threw up his arm.

  The ashtray bounced off his forearm.

  Uh oh.

  Sydney whacked him again.

  It hit his elbow.

  “Hey!” He jumped deeper into the office, away from her, and rummaged in his pocket. She whacked his elbow again. He yelped.