January in Atlantis

by Alyssa Day

  Where Monkey went, Scott—Snake—soon followed. It was always true, and it meant it was time to run.

  Flynn held his hand out to her again, and this time, after a brief hesitation, she took it. It was like reaching out into an inferno and taking hold of pure fire. The sparks between them spiraled up into a conflagration and she wanted nothing more than to hurl herself into his arms. Even in such a dire situation, her body wanted him.

  She quickly stood, gasping, and then yanked her hand away. When she dared to look at Flynn, he looked as shocked as she felt.

  “What in the nine hells is this between us,” he began, but he took a step back, as if giving her a safe zone between them. She appreciated it more than she knew how to articulate, so she said nothing. Instead, she waited silently for her heart to slow down and stop thundering in her chest. Whether from fear or desire, adrenaline was pouring through her body, setting her nerve endings on high alert. Fight or flight, maybe.

  Fight or flight or fuck, her mind said, using his word to inflame her even further.

  This close to him, she was even more aware of Flynn. Hyperaware. He was all grace and danger, all leashed ferocity like the most feral of the animals who’d ever approached her, attracted by her gift. Her pulse began to speed up again.

  Flynn said nothing, just watched her, for a long moment before he spoke. “Eva. The man?”

  "Monkey." She sighed. "Yes, he's after me. He's my ex’s chief flunky."

  One of those dark silken brows winged upward. "Monkey the flunky?"

  She blew out a tired breath. "Yeah, funny, except, not so much. Look. This is not your problem and, really, none of your business."

  Just then, the door from the bar swung open again. This time, the man who’d been with Flynn at his table walked in. He was grinning, his bright green eyes were full of high good humor, and he had a scrape down the side of his face and a bruise that was already turning purple on his forehead.

  "That was fun. But I think you’d better get her out of here, Flynn." He nodded at Eva and smiled. "I’m Jake. Nice to meet you, ma'am. But I'm guessing you're trying to avoid the little guy with the weirdly shaped head, and he just woke up and is looking around for you. Since he has a whole bunch of ugly, mean friends, and I hear sirens on the way, now might be a good time to get out of here."

  Flynn nodded and held out his hand again. He kept doing that. As if he had some right to touch her or, maybe, as if he wanted to help. It had been so long since Eva had let anyone see the violence following her that she didn’t know how to react to the offer of a helping hand.

  "I'm not sure," she began. "Since Noel is unconscious, maybe I should stay and take care of the bar…"

  "Forget the bar. Let the police take care of the bar. They can take care of the Dark Angels, too," Flynn said grimly. "We need to get out of here and figure out exactly what's going on. We have a mutual enemy, it appears."

  Jake started toward the rear door that exited the kitchen to the alley behind. "We need to find those girls. I’ll contact Griffin and find out what he's learned, but first I’m going to see if I can’t get myself arrested. It’ll buy me some instant street cred with those bastards."

  Eva felt dazed, almost as if she'd been the one punched in the face. "What girls? What's going on? What are the two of you doing in town and why –"

  But he was already gone.

  The door swung open again. It was freaking Grand Central station in the small kitchen storeroom tonight. This time, though, it was one of the Dark Angels. Eva made a choking noise, in spite of herself, and shrank back behind Flynn. Somehow she knew or at least hoped that he was the lesser of two evils right now.

  "You’d better turn around and walk right back out of here, my friend," Flynn said, his voice low and deadly. "I’ve taken down one of you already tonight, plus the idiot on the floor. I don't mind going for another, but why don't we just call it quits, so I can get the lady out of here."

  The man, who had too much intelligence in his eyes to be one of the rank-and-file Dark Angels, shook his head impatiently but stopped where he was. "Listen, I don't have much time. I’m not one of them. If you’re who I think you are, I might be your contact. My name is Zach, and I'll find you again. Get her out of here now. Local law enforcement is in with the Dark Angels."

  With that, Zach turned and headed back into the bar.

  "That was interesting, but we need to move. Now." Flynn held out his hand again.

  This time she took it, even though part of her brain was screaming at her to run. Thankfully, the electric pulse of desire, while still there, was less insistent now that her stupid hormones had gotten the message that her life was in actual danger.

  "Right. Now we find out what's going on. First we get you out of here and to safety."

  “I don't –" She studied his face again. Gazed for a moment into his eyes, but the crashing and shouting from the bar sped up her decision. She grabbed her purse and sweater. "Yes. Let's get out of here. I don’t know you, but I know them. Anyway, how could things get any worse?”

  Flynn groaned and started running, pulling her along beside him.. “Please, for the love of all the gods, don’t ever, ever, ask that question again.”

  5

  Flynn shoved open the door and pulled Eva through it and then kept going down the alley and away from the bar. “Should I take you home?”

  "I don't want to go home yet," Eva admitted, her voice reluctant. "I can just… I'm going to go get some coffee and think about all this. Thank you for everything you did for me. I'll be on my way now."

  He tightened his grip on her hand, careful to keep his grasp gentle enough that she could pull away if she really wanted to. "Look, I don't know why that guy was after you. I don't know anything about you. But I can recognize the sign of a person in trouble, and I wish you’d at least let me try to help you. I need – I need to help. There were too many times when I didn't."

  She glanced up at him but didn't try to pull her hand away. In the harsh light of the street lamp, her skin was so pale, making the few freckles scattered over her nose stand out. He couldn't see the green and gold of her enormous eyes in the dark, but they were luminous and seemed to be looking right through him.

  It made him wonder what she saw, but he knew better than to ask. Some things were better left unknown.

  She blew out a long breath and then nodded, as if coming to some internal decision. "Okay. Okay. I guess it can't hurt for you to at least come get coffee with me. I must be out of my mind, but I need to talk this out with somebody, and a perfect stranger seems to be my best option. Thanks, Flynn, for what you did in there."

  "Believe me, it was my pleasure, Eva. Coffee sounds wonderful. Where should we go?"

  Eva glanced back at the bar and shuddered, then pointed down the street. "There's a coffee shop here, but I think that's too close for now. I don't want to get involved with the police and I certainly don't want to… Well. Let's go to the Early Café that's just down on the end of Main Street. It's at least a mile and a half from here, which might keep us out of the immediate fallout from whatever happened in the bar."

  "Do you want to walk?" The January night air had grown cold, and Eva was shivering in that flimsy T-shirt she must have to wear for work, even with the light sweater she’d thrown over it. He mentally smacked himself in the forehead and immediately shrugged out of his jacket. "You take this. Are you okay to walk? I only have my bike here."

  She started to protest taking his jacket but then closed her eyes and snuggled into its warmth with a blissful expression on her face. "Thanks. I didn't realize how cold I was getting. I think part of it is shock. Anyway, I have my car here, and we should probably take it. If we want… If I want to get away quickly, I'd rather not have to walk back here to get my car."

  It was good sense, and he nodded. "I’m following you on my bike, for the same reason. I'm not interested in having local law-enforcement start to wonder who I am and check my plates." Although there shouldn't be any
problem with the plates or the bike. Denal had set up the rental of a small house outside town and the bikes, or at least somebody efficient had done it. He didn't really see Denal as the details type.

  Plus, if Eva changed her mind and decided to speed out of the coffee shop and never come back to Early, he could follow her on the bike. He had twice the reasons to want to get to know her now, and one of them was even legit. Her reaction to that Dark Angel had told him that she knew more than she wanted to about the gang. Any scrap of information he could get would be helpful.

  Even if you have to steamroll over this woman, who's obviously in trouble?

  He told the tiny scrap of conscience that was still left in his soul to shut up. While he was at it, he told his overly interested cock to calm the fuck down, too. Mission goals, after all. One woman's emotional pain—or his almost-violent attraction to her--couldn't matter to him when there was a chance he could save even one of the nearly twenty teen girls who’d been kidnapped.

  Eva led the way to a small employee parking lot and climbed into a very dilapidated old car. From the looks of it, he was surprised it ran at all. He'd never been the type to care anything about human modes of transportation, but even to him this one looked like it was nearly dead. She turned the key. It stuttered and shook, but started, amazingly enough. When Eva put the car in gear and pulled out of the back lot, the police were just arriving in the front. Perfect timing.

  Flynn swung a leg over his bike, started it up, and followed Eva down the street.

  The diner smelled familiar. He'd been in a lot of diners, in a lot of countries around the world, and they all shared that same scent of hot grill and hot grease and the feel of warm, comfortable conversation. Diners were not where you went to celebrate important events. Diners were where you went to talk about the weather, the news of the day, or your kids; or in order not to have to talk all. He’d sat alone in dozens of diners, all over the planet, drinking coffee, eating pancakes, or beans and toast, or goat cheese and dates. Sometimes watching people, sometimes simply reading the paper and thinking whatever thoughts floated through his brain.

  This one was much the same as all the others. The newspaper rack was in the corner, and you could buy a new one for a dollar or just read one of the papers that had been read and then neatly folded and stacked in a corner of the counter for the next customer to enjoy.

  A middle-aged, dark-haired woman in comfortable shoes was pouring coffee for two tired-looking guys at a corner table, and an old guy near the front was shoveling in eggs and bacon as if he hadn’t eaten for days. He didn't even glance up at them. The guys at the back table gave them a quick glance and then returned to their conversation.

  Threat assessment: very low.

  The dark-haired waitress finished pouring the coffee and looked over at them and smiled. "Hey, Eva. Figured you’d be at work tonight."

  Eva returned her smile and shrugged, and then slid into a seat at a booth about halfway down the row. Flynn was glad to see she chose the seat that put her back to the door, because he needed to watch the entrance. He never liked the itchy-shoulder-blades feeling of having his back to any entrance or exit. There was always a back door, something about humans and fire safety, but trouble was less likely to come in that way tonight. Neither Dark Angels nor law enforcement would ever consider stealthy entrances.

  Both were more blow-your-door down types.

  "Coffee?" The waitress, named Linda according to her name tag, was already flipping over their cups.

  Eva nodded, looking grateful. "And some fresh cream, please."

  "Cream for you, Handsome?" Linda took a moment to study him and a slow smile spread over her face. "You've been holding out on me, Eva. This is the best-looking man to walk through our door in months."

  After years Topside, Flynn was familiar with meaningless banter. He grinned at the waitress. "And I only have eyes for you, Lovely Linda."

  She giggled and swatted at him with her order pad. "Aren’t you the smooth one? Okay, you two. Want food?"

  Eva shook her head, but Flynn was having none of that. She was too pale and too thin. Anyway, interrogation went better over a meal. "Two of the specials, please, Linda. I think we need to get some food in our Eva here, don't you?"

  Resentment flared in Eva's eyes at the 'our Eva' bit, but she didn't disagree. She just picked up her coffee and took a sip, grimacing at the taste.

  "Yeah, it's been on the burner for a while. I'll get a new pot started and bring you that fresh cream."

  "Thanks, Linda," Eva said. Then she turned a measuring gaze on Flynn. "Okay. Your turn. You didn't just randomly walk into that bar and then rescue me out of the goodness of your heart. You're up to something. And that guy – Zach – what was he talking about? Are you a cop?"

  Flynn started laughing, but he kept it quiet. Of all the suspicions she might've had about him, cop was the last thing he would've expected. "No. Not a cop.” He glanced around the diner, but nobody was paying them the slightest bit of attention. "I shouldn't be telling you this, but I am working with some cops. There's… a Situation."

  Eva also took a moment to look around before she leaned forward and lowered her voice. "Is it about the Dark Angels? Somebody needs to do something about them. Everywhere I go, though, the cops are too afraid of them. Or, worse, they have somebody inside the gang and are getting payoffs. I guess with all the smuggling, drugs, and the rest of it, the Angels have so much money they can just roll over and crush the good guys."

  Linda brought the coffee, poured it, left the pot, and bustled off. Flynn watched in a kind of bemused horror as Eva proceeded to pour so much cream into her coffee that he could barely tell it was coffee.

  She glanced up and caught him staring at her and made a face at him. "I don't want to hear it. I don't even like the taste of coffee, but sometimes in self-defense I need to drink it. Once I add a few spoons of sugar to this it'll be fine."

  Flynn grinned at her. "Sounds like dessert more than coffee. Probably tastes better that way, but in a lot of the places I've been there was no guarantee of fancy things like cream or sugar. Half the time there was no coffee to be found, either."

  His mood grew darker thinking of the months in that cave, with the people he’d thought were his friends. Flynn didn't do well with imprisonment or restraint of any kind, and the fact that Kian—his friend--had let them hold him captive only made him more resentful.

  "Did a goose walk over your grave?" She tilted her head to watch him. Strands of her long, richly red hair had fallen out of her braid and framed her face. In the diner light, the green and gold of her huge, beautiful eyes sparkled at him, enticing him into dreams of sunlit forest pools and Eva, nude in the long grass.

  He shifted in his seat and pushed the tantalizing image out of his mind. When she bent her head to sip her coffee, he watched her, entranced. The curve of her cheek was so heartbreakingly lovely . . .

  He was either losing it, or his overactive protective instincts had gone amok. Probably both. Whatever it was, he didn't have time for it. He didn't have time for much, knowing the Dark Angels and what they probably planned for those girls. It wasn't human trafficking he was worried about, not with this particular gang.

  It was human sacrifice.

  Linda brought their food, and they made small talk with her for a few moments while she unloaded plates from her tray. When she was gone again, off to serve the table of chattering teenagers that had just arrived, Flynn took a deep breath, inhaling all that buttery goodness.

  "Man, I love diner food. Fills a man up for a while."

  Eva's lips quirked up at the corners. "Not a salad guy?"

  Flynn laughed. "I eat plenty of salads. The vegetables back home--"

  He stopped abruptly. He, Jake, and Griffin were undercover, but Denal had never said anything specifically about whether or not to admit they were from Atlantis. If they used any of their powers over water, however, it would be easy enough for people to tell. Especially in light of all th
e media coverage Atlantis’s rising had gotten from the human press.

  Besides, he needed something from this woman, and he’d found out over the course of his life that the easiest way to help someone trust you was to trust them first. Give something to get something.

  "Okay. I'm gonna tell you something that I shouldn't be telling you, because I need help. And I think you could use our help, too. I'm actually from Atlantis."

  She stared at him for a long moment and then abruptly started laughing. "Oh, wow. That was awesome. I really needed a laugh after this week. Do you know that you are the tenth man this month to tell me that he's from Atlantis? It's the new 'what's your sign?' around bars. I'm to the point where I want to put a sign up: No, you are not from Atlantis. It's not going to work. No, you're not going to get laid."

  Hearing get laid from Eva’s sensual lips shredded at the edges of Flynn’s tightly leashed control. She seemed to realize what she'd said after the words came tumbling out, too, because she flushed, all that delicate creamy skin turning pink from the edge of the fairly low neckline of the Copper Cantina T-shirt clear up to her hairline.

  A sudden fantasy of what she would look like in his bed, all that gorgeous red hair splayed across his pillows, and her arms and legs splayed across his body, nudged at Flynn insistently, and he had to forcibly shove the idea away.

  "That's a thing? I can't believe that's a thing." He shook his head and thought about it. "On the other hand, of course it's a thing. Any line to get lucky."

  Eva nodded, using her fork to toy with a piece of egg.

  "The thing is, though, I really am from Atlantis." Flynn looked around again, but still, nobody was paying any attention to them. Linda was back behind the counter chatting with the cook over the pass-through window. He put his hand flat on the table and then turned his palm over so it was facing up. With a slight motion of his fingertips, he called to his power and pulled a stream of water out of Eva's water glass and sent it twirling in a long, spiraling ribbon across the table and up and around the fork she was holding.