His shoulder burned now, not with the pain of the stab wound, but with a sweet aching fire that rocked straight through his blood stream to swell his cock. His whole body strained to touch her, to see her, to peel her out of that suit and inspect every inch of her creamy flesh and make sure she was safe, healed, perfect.
Perhaps it was a side effect of her healing, or of the stasis pod. He didn’t know. His reactions to her were a mystery to be solved later. First they had to make it to her ship, to her soldiers, alive. Her light illuminated the tunnel one body length at a time. He swam, pushing his body’s physical limits until both his legs and his lungs burned. Then he saw it, the white spool line she’d mentioned. It glowed like a beacon about the length of his arm before turning a corner to lead the way through an adjacent cave, to freedom.
He swam straight toward the gleaming white thread and gathered the line in his hand. Their lifeline. The only way out of this labyrinth of caves and tunnels. He turned the corner and saw it stretch away into the darkness. Gods, how had she found him in this black maze? It seemed impossible. A miracle.
Or the thrice-damned Triscani’s interference. A ploy…
Perhaps they had found his ship, knew what he had hidden, and couldn’t find it? Perhaps this siren was sent to him as a ruse to lead them to it? It was all so improbable. A cave in the middle of nowhere. A beautiful young woman, both Angelus Mortis and healer, using nothing more than instinct, than dreams, to find him? How had she found him? Why had she been allowed to wake him? And this slip of a girl coming alone and claiming that she’d ashed multiple Triscani warriors? Unlikely.
More likely his brother, Ryu, was willing to sacrifice a few pawns to acquire Gerrick’s stone.
She stirred inside his mind, and he didn’t bother wondering how she could speak to him, just strained to reach her, to feel the soft warmth of her words in this dark tomb that had nearly claimed him. Her strength faded as she pushed an image of the cave to him, a map of the way she’d come to find him. Follow. It’s not far.
The words that hummed through his mind were laced with exhaustion and pain. Her light flickered, dimmed. The soothing feel of her consciousness touching his, connecting them, faded into nothing as well. The water she miraculously breathed left a dark cloud of blood around her head with each exhalation.
Blood in her lungs. Was she bleeding out? Dying?
Perhaps his injuries were too much for her to handle, or she’d added his burdens to wounds of her own. The dagger wound in his back would knock most healers out for days. Triscani poison would kill any mortal. She’d taken both from him in a few brief minutes of heat and contact. Now she was the one in need of a healer. He moved forward and kicked strongly, his arm wrapped around her slim waist. She didn’t resist, didn’t react at all as she lost consciousness and her light flared brightly one last time before plummeting them both into absolute darkness.
Hand on the spool line, he closed his eyes and ignored the black chasm pressing down on him with more weight than the deepest, darkest parts of space. Perhaps it was a side effect of too long spent in the stasis chamber, but he found the enclosed space difficult to tolerate without the healing touch of her mind. He forced the awareness of the watery tomb from his thoughts. Instead, he focused all of his attention on the warm woman in his arms, on the image of her worried and intelligent gaze, her pink lips, the delicate curve of her cheek and the wavy mass of black silk on her head, the way it had caressed his skin when he’d buried his hands in her hair.
Better to burn with lust than think about the traitor, or the darkness. The hollow sound of his breathing with the strange air tank chased him through the cave. What felt like hours in solitary passed by, the weight of her in his arms all that kept him sane as he followed the texture of white thread slipping through his palm. He juggled the flashlight the best he could without letting go of either her, or the white line in his hand, his one known path to freedom. The light was like a single flame in an ocean of darkness, but it was all he had.
And it wasn’t the first time he’d suffered the dark.
Raiden closed his eyes and swam slowly, gently pulling her along next to him until…finally, light ahead. Sunlight.
Raiden neared the gap that led out into open water and hesitated, checking the area before exposing them both to attack. He saw her men stationed above them along the anchor line. They looked calm, but Raiden sensed their unease. Other than her boat far above, and the three men hovering in the water, he saw nothing but clear blue water ahead as far as he could see, and a wall of rock that stretched out on both sides of their cave. One cave among thousands of nooks and dark shadows that jutted along this underwater cliff. And there, floating in the water directly above them, anchored with a heavy rope, a small boat sat like a bloated fish in the water, waiting for the woman in his arms to return.
Her boat. Her men. Maybe they had another one of her people on board, another healer that could help her.
An explosion of sound struck from above, the shockwave threw his back into the rocks and he wrapped Mari in his arms to protect her from the sharp edges of rock. He curled his body around her and did his best to absorb the shockwave coming from above. His ears screamed in protest and he feared his eardrums had ruptured.
Her eyes opened and she looked up, a cry of anguish distorted by the water flowing through her throat.
No! Mari shuddered in his embrace, shock and rage filling his mind along with her cry. Her men floated above them, the two closest to the surface appeared to be unconscious, the third, the closest to them swam toward his fellow men as fast as he could in an attempt to save them.
Mari struggled against his hold and her Angel’s Fire blazed. But they were too far away to help her men, and he had no idea where the attack had come from.
Hush. I’ve got you. The boat was gone, nothing left but hundreds of pieces of debris floating on the surface. She sagged in his arms, pain and rage a hostile mix of emotions transferring from her mind to his. Other than her soldiers, her men, was there someone on that vessel she cared about? Someone she loved? Someone she allowed to touch her, kiss her, feel her lips pressed to his flesh? Was there a man on board that boat who knew all of her secrets?
Raiden’s hand brushed her shoulder and a blast of energy pinged his system like a small lightning bolt.
What was wrong with him? Good men had just died, and with them his best chance of escape. He shook his head to clear it and focused past the buzz of awareness that continued to plague him every moment she was near. Who attacked? More Triscani? His brother? How many enemies did they face? Two? Twenty?
He had to move, get them both to safety.
Be still, Mari. We have to hide. He pulled her along the cliff face, swimming between outcroppings of rock and limestone, hiding like a fish from a hungry shark. He had his knives. That would take care of a shark, or a human. But if the Triscani arrived, he only had one effective weapon, and using it would cost him everything.
The woman in his arms floated in and in and out of consciousness. Every time they connected her pain ripped through him like needles through paper. Her thoughts were a chaotic mess, but one name caught and held his attention.
Celestina? Raiden’s heart raced. He knew the Seer, very well. He’d been one of the unlucky bastards who’d been sent to interrogate her. The sight of the petite female locked in that prison cell still left a sour taste in his mouth. How did Mari know the infamous Seer? And when had that bitch of a Queen on Itara released her?
How do you know Celestina? What did she tell you? The Seer had never been convicted of a crime, but she’d refused to answer questions, refused to explain herself to Raiden’s father, the Itaran Queen, or any of the royal investigators. Celestina had never officially been accused of anything. But the Seer had more secrets than a spy and more courage than was good for her. Ten years locked up and she’d never answered a single question. Mari, tell me. How do you know Celestina?
Speaking to the beautiful woman in his arms
was futile. She wasn’t capable of logic at the moment, was holding on to consciousness by a sheer act of will. Even if she were awake and uninjured, how many Triscani could she vaporize with her Angel’s Fire before the Triscani overcame their position? Their enemies were fast. Very, very fast. More than a couple Triscani and they’d both be dead meat.
Raiden looked around. There was more than one cave, more than one crevasse in the submerged cliffs that would offer them a place to hide. There was another boat approaching, he could hear the buzzing mechanics of a combustion engine. A larger boat neared the derbis and several dark shadows entered the water next to it. Triscani? And what where they doing searching through the debris? What were they looking for? For him…or for her?
Of the two, she was the bigger prize.
Triscani were up there. The cold numbing charge of their presence grated on his nerves and sent a slow, sluggish chill through his veins. His savior shivered in his arms and burrowed closer to his heart. She felt it, too, the inherent wrongness of their enemy. He’d never been able to explain it to his men, and he wasn’t sure how or why he could feel their energy. But he could. Since he’d taken the first of them and turned the Triscani Hunter to ash, he’d been able to feel them. He hated the sensation, like cold jelly dropped in heavy glops atop his spine.
The Hunters surrounded her men and tore them to pieces in seconds, their blood a dark stain in the water. He shrank back inside a cave while they were distracted, hoping they hadn’t seen him or Mari yet.
What he wouldn’t give for some random earthly humans to be on that boat. He’d be ecstatic to see human military or merchants. Something that actually belonged on this world. His stepmother had always told him to be careful whom he chased. That the hunter could become the prey. She’d been right. And he had to protect the woman in his arms at all costs, protect her Angel’s Fire, her healing ability and her knowledge of the lost races. Any one of those things made her a prize worth killing for.
Wars had been fought over a healer with half her skill. The need to keep her safe burned in him, too deep to question or understand. Duty and logic demanded no less. Healers were sacred among all the races…save one. For them, the healers were something to be feared, their power both dangerous and disturbing.
A splash sounded and he slinked back with her in his arms until they were completely hidden inside the opening of another small cave. He found an outcropping of rock with a pocket above them that would catch his air bubbles, bubbles that would rise like flares from his mouthpiece, and slowed his breathing as much as possible.
Two long shadows glided through the water toward the cave they’d just left behind. Not human. Not Itaran. They looked like a jet-black version of rubber-band men, bodies stretched and tugged by the current. Giant worms in water. Despite their twisting forms, the Triscani Hunters moved unerringly for the cave opening. They paused at its entrance and appeared to be searching for intruders or enemies. For him.
No. For her.
Over his dead body. He held her tighter and turned so that her petite curves were completely concealed by his in the small opening. He wore black, like the shadows he tried to blend into, and he waited.
A rumble shook the water a few minutes later at the opening of the Triscani cave, and he was quite sure that everything inside it was pulverized by another explosion. No evidence left. No trail for his family.
Where the hell was his ship? What had they done with it? The Triscani had obviously found him, removed him from his ship and transported his body while he slept. They had to have his ship stashed somewhere. He needed to find it as quickly as possible and make sure they hadn’t figured out a way around his locked controls, or worse, discovered what he’d left behind. He had made a vow, and he meant to keep it.
Raiden tried to ignore the shivering twist of unease that thought brought him. He squeezed as tightly to the side of the crevasse as her body would allow, impatiently counting down the seconds until they could make an attempt to flee. Attempt being the operative word. He had no idea where they were or where land might be. He needed to stay one step ahead of the Triscani. He needed to find his ship. He needed to conquer the cold that seeped deeper into his bones with every breath.
The cold wouldn’t kill him. Could it kill her? She was wearing a dive suit. Did that mean she could suffer hypothermia or go into shock? He knew nothing of her clan, or her limits.
No one did. Not anymore.
Should have paid more attention to his history lessons during his school years But no, he’d been too distracted with a young, foolish boy’s plans for battle and glory.
Battle he’d seen much of since then, so much it had stained his soul black as a starless sky.
Glory, he’d discovered too late, was an outright lie.
The Triscani sent down a camera of some sort, but he saw it and made sure to stay completely hidden behind rocks thick enough to hide their heat signature. Slow and steady, he checked the bubble of air amassing above him and decreased his respirations to nearly zero. It would hurt, but he could hold his breath for several minutes at a time. He didn’t move, except to track the Hunters with his gaze. Finally the creatures appeared to give up. Raiden knew the thought was a lie. The Triscani would hunt for her. Especially after the black mass of cinders she’d left behind in their precious cave. She could actually destroy them.
And the Itarans.
No threat that powerful was allowed to exist outside the bounds of the Queen’s control, the Mater Mortis, the First Circle. Never would such power be allowed to exist on Earth. By the gods, if they escaped the current nightmare, the Queen might order Raiden to carry out her execution himself.
Enemies were to be eliminated. With her Angel’s Fire and water clan ancestry, she was a more than an enemy to the forbidden sons, she was an angel of death. Angelus Mortis. A being both Triscani and Itarans fled.
They’d fear her, and that would make them thrice determined to find her. The fact also made her extremely valuable to him. Not just as a weapon, but as the irresistible lure that would draw them out of hiding. They Triscani hunted and hid in the dark. Mari would be too bright a lure for them to ignore.
A machine roared to life above. The loud slugging of a the engine broke the quiet calm of the ocean.
Then they were gone.
He waited several minutes before slowly kicking toward the surface. Mari lay passive and still bleeding in his arms. He had to get her out of the water so he could tend the wounds. There was no anchor rope to hold, no way to get his bearings and decompress as she’d instructed. Too damn bad. A few nitrogen bubbles in his blood couldn’t kill him, might hurt a bit, but that would be nothing new. And what little he remembered of the water-breathers’ mythical power, it shouldn’t be a concern for her at all. Bleeding to death from a wound that was never meant to be hers? Dying from the sting of Triscani poison? That was a different curse to bear, one he didn’t want her to carry.
He broke the surface and bit back a cry of rage. Softly lapping waves rocked what remained of her boat while the sun dazzled his eyes with reflections off the water. It was a perfect, peaceful day, except for the human limbs floating in the water, the total destruction of her boat, and the sharks he now sensed circling beneath him.
The remains of a man’s tattooed arm floated nearby. He ignored it. He had no time for pity or grief over her men, her friends, or his lost opportunity. He hoped the male hadn’t been someone important to her, a brother, or a lover. If he felt anything for this man he’d never met, it should be pity or sorrow, not a gut-fired satisfaction that the stranger would never come back and try to take what was rightly his.
His.
Gods have mercy, he was losing his mind. Two years in the deep sleep and he’d come out a bit off. Mari wasn’t his. He wasn’t even sure whose side she was on. And she could easily be wed to a hulking warrior with three children. In all the history records, known healers were married young and encouraged to bear children. Married or held hostage, but alw
ays kept far from the line of fire. What was she doing here?
Again he wondered how she could have found him in that cave, in this churning mass of water. No land in sight. No landmarks. Nothing to mark the entrance to his prison. Was she a ruse? A traitor sent to seduce and fool him into revealing his last secret?
No. The denial raced through his mind with the elegance of a shotgun blast from this primitive world. Instinct. Desire. That was what motivated the disavowal. But trust and emotion had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Gods damn him to eternal life with the Triscani horde of he fell for that again.
A great white shark, cousin to the sharks on his home world, rose like a bullet straight from the depths to flash by him like a torpedo. Teeth snapped and the arm that had floated beside him seconds ago was gone. Nothing more than a light snack for a hungry shark.
They’d be next.
He popped his head back underwater to assess the threat, to watch the silent and graceful glide of the sharks below. The animals circled like a whirlpool of death beneath his kicking legs. He was used to the sight. The great white’s cousins on his home world often circled beneath the auquatic battle zones, waiting to clean up the mess of bodies, drawn by the blood. Battle was bloody, no matter where it was waged. And Raiden had fought in every arena, from beneath the vast seas on his world, on land, in the air, and out in space. The Immortals on Itara were damn hard to kill, but even they couldn’t survive being torn apart and eaten by a shark.
The gigantic female sizing them up as a potential snack had the mass of a small truck, with a hell of a lot more teeth and cold black eyes. A predator’s gaze. Was it now his fate to be a shark’s version of breakfast?
To hell with Fate.
There was no land in open sight, so he swam back down to the rocks for a bit of cover. The underwater caves began about ten body lengths below the surface of the water. Not much in the way of protection, but at least they couldn’t glide up on him from hundreds of feet below. If the sharks decided to dine, there wasn’t much he could do to fight them off with Mari in his arms. If she couldn’t summon the Angel’s Fire, they were as good as dead.
Blue Abyss: Timewalker Chronicles, Book 3 (The Timewalker Chronicles) Page 8