Atlantis: The King's Return (The Atlanteans Book 1)

by D. K. Combs

  She had had no control over her body or mind during those few minutes of possession. Killing something again? That also didn’t sound like the most appealing thing on the menu. But she couldn’t let Ambrose, a man that she desperately cared for, be killed because he wanted the best for her—and because he had come back for a dick brother.

  Mari didn’t know what the fight had been about, but she had felt the fury wafting off of Ambrose. Whatever had happened between them, Erikos had done something to piss off her gentle merman so badly that he was willing to beat up blood—and Ambrose was incredibly loyal.

  “We’re here.”

  Kai’s voice brought her out of her thoughts and she was almost thankful for the distraction.

  He turned around, facing her. God, but the man was huge. Not as tall as Deimos or Ambrose, but almost there. His hair was long and wavy, so blonde it almost matched hers. His eyes were stern, hard—completely black. It was unsettling, having straight black eyes stare at you as if you were nothing but an ant on the ground, but she managed to hold his gaze.

  Ambrose tightened his fingers around hers and she drew comfort from it.

  “Do not speak. Do not meet their eyes. Look indifferent. I’m not sure what you are, but you aren’t a god.” He drew a long, skeptical gaze down her tail, and she forced herself not to shift uncomfortably. “You might look like one, but you aren’t. It’s best the king not know this.”

  Mari nodded, giving a sigh of relief when he turned back around.

  “You’ll do fine,” Ambrose assured her, smiling.

  Too bad she couldn’t smile back. Her nerves were running on a high that was making her jittery to the point of shaking. Even Ambrose, who was trying his best to calm her down, wasn’t doing a very good job.

  “I’m going to find some way to stumble over my tail. Or, you know, blow something up with my godly powers,” she muttered as the sweeping door to the palace swung open. Air bubbles sprung from every direction, blocking her vision for a moment.

  When they cleared, she forgot all about her worries.

  Holy shit.

  The place was the gothic version of The Little Mermaid. The room in front of her expanded about one hundred yards ahead. The marble was shining, imprinted, and black. Like the rest of the city. Except, laced through this black marble, there were gold streams that ran along the floor, all centering around a crimson symbol that was structured in the middle of the room.

  Surrounding the rectangular room were marble pillars that were the same style as the floor she floated above. On each pillar, the same symbol that was imprinted on the ground was on the higher part of the marble, gold instead of red.

  At the end of the spacious room was a throne so large it took her breath. The top of the chair, adorned with golden and crimson coloring, were two stone serpents. Their mouths were open, long tongues lashing out, with diamond fangs gleaming into the room. Their eyes were made of the reddest stone she had ever seen, and they glared at her from their dais. Long, detailed bodies were intertwined, both starting at opposite sides of the chair, and then meeting in the middle. Their necks, besides their feet, were the only body parts that were not bound together.

  So fish worshipped serpents? Didn’t those things eat fish?

  Mari concluded, right there, that Atlanteans were sadistic sons of bitches. She bet they held sacrifices to the Lochness Monster and came to the shore every eve to dance naked around a chicken with its head cut off.

  She looked at Ambrose quickly, then stifled a laugh. She could see Ambrose doing that.

  Definitely.

  “The queen and I are retiring for tonight,” a deep voice called from the throne.

  Deimos placed himself in front of her, blocking her vision. Ambrose was on one side of her, and a guard was on the other. All in all, she was caged in.

  And she really didn’t like it.

  She shoved at Deimos’s back, who growled at her warningly. “Move,” she hissed when he didn’t. “I want to see!”

  “Mari,” Ambrose growled, squeezing her hand painfully. She was about to snap at him when she caught look on his face. “More than likely, you’ll get your chance. Stop drawing attention to yourself.”

  He turned his gaze away from her dismissively, effectively silencing her.

  Okay. Well. That was that, then, wasn’t it?

  Kai’s voice echoed through the throne room. “We have a pressing issue, my lord.”

  She heard the faint sigh, and then the king spoke. “I doubt it can be much more pressing than my bed.”

  Mari held in a snort. Some king he was. Her chest puffed with pride. At least with Ambrose, she knew he would take care of every problem until the city was at peace, even if it meant no sleep and no “precious bed.”

  Stupid old men, stupid fake kings, stupid Deimos who wouldn’t move.

  “Actually, this concerns you more than the city.”

  As if they had planned it, Deimos, Kai, and the surrounding guards all stepped back from Mari and Ambrose.

  Finally, she could see the king!

  And what a sad disappointment.

  She had expected some large, hulking guy with a grey beard, pointed crown, and a trident, like Ariel’s dad or something. Instead, sitting on that elegant throne, was a thin old crone who didn’t even have a crown!

  Unlike the rest of the citizens, they had on black robes that folded their way down to the floor. Only the tips of their tails peeked through the robes. The woman at his side was frail, smaller than he was. Her robes were charcoal, barely decipherable from the black that matched the man standing next to her. The tips of her violet fin peaked from underneath the silken looking robes, a darker shade of purple than the man beside her.

  “Damn it,” she muttered, before slapping a hand over her mouth.

  Kai shot her the most dangerous, life threatening glare she had ever gotten in her life.

  Before she could apologize, though, the gasps from the throne drew her attention.

  “What?” he demanded, his shout ringing throughout the room.

  With surprising speed for an old man, the king shot to his feet, the little old lady at his side following suit.

  “Guards!” the king shouted, stabbing a finger at Ambrose. “Take him! The Exiled One is not welcome here!”

  None of them moved.

  “You bastards, kill him!” Mari watched with alarm as the man’s face bulged with purple veins. The lady beside him also cast a worried glance, matching Mari’s concern.

  Again, none of them made a move. She looked around her covertly, taking in the crossed arms and hard faces.

  “If one of you don’t take this man into custody, you will all be labeled as traitors!” he roared, surging off of the dais. His finger shook with his fury, and the purple became more pronounced the closer he got.

  Mari backed up a little. She didn’t know much about fish, but she imaged they got strokes just the same as humans did—and she really didn’t feel like having a waif of a man fall on her dead. She’d had enough death for one day, thank you very much.

  Still, though, the man came even closer until he was standing right in front of Ambrose, and she had the feeling that Ambrose didn’t really give a crap that the man was spitting mad—literally.

  He confirmed her thoughts when his thick hand wrapped around the frail wrist that was right in his face. Shivers went down Mari’s back when he spoke.

  “How’s being king treating you, H’Sai? Taking a toll at all?”

  “You’re a conspirator and a bastard!” the king said furiously, despite being locked in what she thought looked like a painful grip.

  Ambrose sneered. “And you’re a lazy piece of work. You would rather sleep than take care of your people.”

  “You would rather kill than let thrive!” H’Sai shot back, wrenching his hand away. She suspected that Ambrose let him—the man was so old and withered he looked like a waif in the large room. Hardly the powerful king that he should be, Mari thought, watching the
interaction between the two.

  Mari was lost. Ambrose didn’t seem like a conspirator at all—he was the most loyal and trustworthy man she had ever had the pleasure of knowing. She might not know about him, but she did know him. Just the way he had taken care of her and protected her was enough to assure her that he would never betray anyone.

  “Men,” Kai cut it, placing himself between the two of them. “There is a woman in our presence—two, in fact,” he amended, bowing his head respectfully at the woman who had stayed back. She smiled gently in acknowledgment.

  “As king, and former king, you should know how to take care of your affairs. Fighting it out like children is not how it is done. D’Mari,” Kai said, gesturing to her. “The guards will escort you to your quarters, which I have already had prepared for you.”

  She frowned, barely noticing the way he had altered her name. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to stay—“ He cut off her by waving a guard at her, who took her arm.

  These people had a really bad touching problem, she thought as she tried to take her arm back. “You don’t have to do that—“

  Deimos growled, baring his teeth at the guard. He swallowed, slowly loosening his hold. Mari patted Deimos's arm proudly while smiling smugly at the guard. She turned around, determined to stay and witness what would happen between Ambrose and H’Sai. She knew close to nothing about Ambrose, and this was the perfect time to learn.

  “Mari, please,” Ambrose said quietly. “I’ll come to you when this is over.”

  She almost denied him, but the look in his eyes made her stop. They were solemn, like he had accepted some terrible weight on his shoulders. And maybe, by engaging the king, he had.

  Mari nodded slowly. “Fine,” she said, putting up a resigned façade.

  She bid Deimos to follow her as the guards led her out.

  Ambrose was silly if he actually thought she would listen to him.

  As the doors began to close, she looked over her shoulder to see the three remaining men, Kai, Ambrose, and H’Sai, exit under one of the pillars that was two away from the throne on the right side. She quickly memorized which one it was, right as the doors closed fully behind them.

  The guards led her through the expansive palace. Like the room they had just left, the palace was decorated in black, red, and gold. There didn’t seem to be one closed off hallway, or one door. The palace was held together with pillars and that was it.

  Which, she realized as she trailed behind them, memorizing the way they had left, made her plan seem more complicated. There were also guards stationed every five feet, all holding spears and armored.

  Deimos was close at her back, which gave her little comfort. Slipping away from him was going to be near impossible too. She knew that if it came down to it, he would take Ambrose’s side if it meant keeping her safe and locked up.

  She snorted mentally. Yeah. Keeping her locked up was such a great idea.

  It took them a total of five minutes to get to her “room.” As they escorted her inside, one of the guards moved to the wall and pulled on a red silken rope. Immediately, crimson curtains fell from the open space and enclosed the room, giving her privacy.

  “Wait here,” one of them said shortly. He bowed his head in respect before backing out of the room, leaving her and Deimos to themselves.

  She bit her lip, looking around the room. There was a blue-green pad placed in the right corner—their type of bed, she was guessing. Beside it was a nightstand and then across from the bed and nightstand, against the wall that she was near, was a dresser. It looked like it was made out of the same material as the gate, glass-like with a red inner glow.

  “Atlanteans are just depressing,” she muttered, swimming forward and sitting on the bed. Deimos stood by the door, arms over his chest.

  He nodded shortly.

  “Black,” he muttered, casting an impassive eye over the room.

  “A lot,” she agreed. How the hell was she going to distract him enough to get out of here? By the time she escaped, Ambrose and the king would have already had their fight—or, Ambrose could already be dead.

  Her heart thumped.

  She definitely needed to leave, and soon.

  The uneasy feeling in her stomach gave her an idea.

  “I think I need to take a breath,” she said uneasily, holding her stomach. Mari didn’t think she did very well faking the heaving in her stomach, but it must have been enough. Deimos automatically looked away from her.

  “Vomit,” he grated, face twisting. “Disgusting.”

  Mari made a gagging sound and watched as he flinched.

  As he was looking away, she quickly made her way to the pad, and then slipped out from the curtain that was behind it, sliding along the pillar.

  Excitement rushed through her as she took hold of the amazing view. The city was in clear display. From her little sneak-away spot, she could see every temple, plant, and creature. And god, but it was beautiful.

  She could easily imagine falling in love with Atlantis.

  But right now, she had to save the man that she lo—

  Mari stopped.

  No. Not love. She forced herself to get moving, even as her heart thundered in her chest at what she had almost made a complete thought. It was way too soon to love Ambrose—hell, she hadn’t met him even three days ago. Ray was still in the forefront of her mind. The betrayal, the anger. She was too hurt to think about loving another man.

  Right?

  Mari swam several feet down the building, still on the outside. She called on that super-fishy speed she had and tried to go quick enough that the guards keeping watch wouldn’t notice her shooting behind them.

  She hadn’t really thought about Ray at all, she admitted to herself. She had been caught up in the adventure, the danger, and...Ambrose. He was consuming every thought she had now. Ray’s betrayal was only a minor sting to her heart—Ambrose was the reason it was beating.

  It might be too soon. It might be irrational. It might be wrong. But did she really have to care about that? She had a man that cared for her, a new start at life, and a clean slate. Taking control of the situation and finally having happiness in her life would be the best thing for her.

  It’s what her mother would have wanted from her, her father. They had never been fond of Ray. They tolerated him for her, yes, but they didn’t welcome him. He was too tight, too restricting. Only once had her mother warned her not to get caught up with someone she wouldn’t be happy with, and it had turned into Mari not talking to her mother for weeks.

  But not because she hadn’t wanted to. It had been Ray that had kept her away from her family. Telling her to give them time, urging her to just put the phone down and stop thinking about them.

  It had caused a painful rift in her family. Her brothers stopped talking to her, her father didn’t text her, and her mother hadn’t made an attempt to talk to her.

  She knew her parents would approve of Ambrose. Handsome, strong, loyal, perfect, a great kisser with magic hands... She shivered at the last part. Her mother would more than approve of Ambrose, she knew. And if her and her parents got into an argument, he wouldn’t allow her to sit in silent pain. He would force her to work it out with them.

  Just like he worked through everything else. If Ambrose had a problem, he fixed it. He didn’t leave others behind and he sure as hell didn’t lie. He could have easily left her in the cave. He hadn’t had to turn her into a mermaid, put up with her, or allow her to go with him everywhere. He didn’t have to protect her and risk his life for her.

  But he did.

  When she had first seen him in the cave, his face had been hard, as if he had never smiled before in his life. Over the course of their time together, there had been a dramatic change. Not only did he sigh at her, smile at her, or laugh at her. He allowed her to touch him.

  After all of the things that had been done to him in that cave, he gave her rights she suspected he never would have given again.

  The
sound of low voices drew her out of her thoughts.

  Several feet away from her were two guards. Their shoulders were covered with armor, and both had a long, sharp spear in their hands.

  “Never thought that fucker would come back here again,” the one on the left said. His voice was tinged with disgust.

  “Don’t know why Kai would bother protecting him,” lefty muttered.

  “It doesn’t matter. H’Sai will have him locked up in no time.”

  “I’ll have to get tomorrow off to witness the execution . That bastard killed my sister—I’ll relish every drop of blood that spurts from his dead body.”

  Mari slapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her gasp.

  What bastards. Anger flashed through her, and the water buzzed around her, heating up with her emotions.

  “I—“

  Another voice came from the hall, farther down, cutting her off.

  “D’Mari?”

  She froze.

  Then slowly turned around with an incredibly sweet smile on her face.

  “Yes?”

  “Were you not instructed to stay in those quarters?”

  She met the eyes of the guard who had caught her. The two that were in front of her were turning around with pale faces and wide eyes.

  “I needed some time to myself,” she said vaguely. Why weren’t they carting her away already? It seemed like the whole palace had heard of their arrival—and none of them seemed happy about it. She forced herself not to do something to the two guards that had been talking about Ambrose.

  The new guard’s eyes strayed to her tail, then her face, but passed her. Like he didn’t want to look directly at it.

  Realization dawned on her slowly, and she nearly smiled. So they really did think she was a god.

  Ambrose had told her at F-Inn to act indifferent and uncaring. Was that how gods normally acted? She’d never met one or heard of one—obviously—so she followed Ambrose’s advice.

  Mari crossed her arms over her chest, arching a brow. “I’ll be on my way now.”