Harvesting. She shivered with disgust.
She selected an array of food packets, not entirely sure what any of them were, and left the crate on the counter in case Ballard came by looking for something to eat.
She took the food to the cafeteria, where she turned on the light and sat down at one of the tables. She ripped open a package at random and began chewing on some sort of fish jerky. It was too salty and colorless to guess what type of fish it might be, but it was surprisingly satisfying.
When she tore into the second package, there was movement in the doorway. She looked up to see Ballard standing there.
“May I join you?”
She nodded, and he came in and sat across from her. She pushed a couple of packages at him. He started to grip one in both hands to tear it open and then winced and stopped. She held out her hand, and he silently passed it to her so she could open it for him.
“How’s your shoulder?” she asked.
He glanced at the bandage, where a vivid blot of blood had seeped through. “It’s fine.”
She could tell by the tension in his posture that the pain shot had probably worn off. For a few seconds she looked down at the table top, and then she raised her eyes to his. “I’m sorry about before, I know it’s not your fault.”
He shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize, I know it’s upsetting. It’s horrible. Believe me, I was not planning to leave the women there. That was never part of my plan.”
“I know.” She met his gaze and felt her face soften. He started eating, and she bit into another piece of fish jerky. She tilted her head at his shoulder. “We should change your bandages, and I can give you another shot.”
His eyes glinted. “I have a better idea.” His lips twitched as if he were thinking of something amusing, though it was countered with apprehension that seemed to briefly cloud his eyes.
She tilted her head, suddenly incredibly curious. “Do I get a hint?”
He bit on his bottom lip for a moment, regarding her silently. Then, as if he’d reached some sort of decision in his mind, he took a breath. “No hints. I want to show you.”
They stood, leaving their partially-eaten packets on the table.
He led her through the sub and down to a level she hadn’t been to before. On the way, she tried to make conversation with him a couple of times, but his responses had been short and distracted.
When they finally reached an area that felt like it must be at the bottom of the submarine, he stopped outside an unmarked door. When he opened it, it was too dark to make out anything inside, but there was a soft gurgle of air through water and the salty tang of the sea in the air.
Talia’s heart tapped nervously in her chest. She really wished she could see Ballard’s face.
“Wait here, and I’ll get the light,” he said.
She was expecting an overhead light to switch on, but instead the light came from the floor. Her mouth dropped open as she peered around the room. Walls—and the ceiling that stretched two floors above—had obviously been knocked out to make space for . . . a huge water tank? It was a straight-sided cylinder with a metal ladder attached to the outside. Tiny bubbles streamed up in lazy lines from jets in the bottom. The lights Ballard had turned on were two half-globe lamps in the floor of the tank. It was like standing in an aquarium display, surrounded by darkness except for the soft-focus illumination shimmering through the water.
Ballard stood at a control panel mounted on the side of the tank, where he flipped a couple of switches and punched numbers into a touchpad. The soft sounds of water pumps magnified, and the streams of bubbles came faster.
He came back to stand at her side near the doorway. “I need to give it just a couple of minutes.”
“This is what you wanted to show me?” She looked at him out of the corners of her eyes. His jaw muscles were working, and he seemed a bit anxious. “What is it, exactly?”
He began unwinding the bandage she’d put around his bicep. “It’s an immersion tank,” he said, looking away from his arm to glance at her briefly. “Remember I told you that where I come from, we’re, umm . . . different?”
She gave a short laugh. “Of course, how could I forget? You’re from the future. Or your ancestors were.” She tried to say it evenly, without judgment. She still wasn’t sure it was true, but after everything else that had happened since she and Janelle were abducted from the beach, it didn’t seem as huge a stretch as it had even a few hours ago.
“That’s not quite the whole story.” He tossed the bandage in a bucket on the floor and began peeling off the tape around the gauze that covered his shoulder wounds, where she’d sewn up the two large punctures. He winced a little when he pulled the gauze away. “I think it will make more sense if I just show you.”
Her heart was tapping away again, and she started shaking her head. “Ballard, if you could just explain—”
He looked up at her with a gaze so piercing and sincere, she let her protest die. “We’ve come this far. Please, just trust me for a few more minutes?”
His eyes seemed to be pinning her in place, and all she could do was nod.
He removed the rest of his bandages, and then unhooked his belt and set it on a nearby cart.
She folded her arms and pulled them tight against her body as she watched him walk to the metal ladder. The older wound on his leg was swollen, with an angry deep pink border. She wished she would have noticed it and swabbed it off, too, when they were in the infirmary.
Despite having to favor his stitched shoulder, he climbed the ladder with light, agile steps, and she couldn’t help admiring the flexing muscles of his upper body. She tipped her head back to watch him at the top, where he stood on a small platform with his head nearly brushing the ceiling. His chest expanded as he took a long breath in, and then he swung his good arm forward and tucked his head down in a shallow dive into the water.
He dove down to the bottom of the tank, which appeared to be around thirteen or fourteen feet deep and perhaps twice that in width. He swam a few strokes, skimming the bottom and letting his injured arm trail at his side, and Talia marveled at the way his body seemed to glide effortlessly through the water. Then he angled up, facing her and floating in the center of the tank as if his feet rested on an invisible pedestal.
She walked forward a couple of steps. She wasn’t sure how much time had elapsed since he’d gone under, but it had to be close to a minute. She hugged herself nervously. He was showing no intention of coming up for air.
Movement around his ankles drew her attention. Were the bottom sections of his diving pants expanding . . . billowing out? She squinted, trying to make out detail through the slight distortion of the glass and water.
Yes, his diving pants were definitely changing. The bottom edges were fanning out, and . . . Her fingers flew to her lips as the gasped softly.
Fins.
Fins were unfurling around Ballard’s legs. There were two sets of fins that began at points just above his knees. Another shorter pair that fanned out from his ankles. They had ridges, like those that striated fish fins. They were opalescent, nearly transparent in the water.
She shook her head in wonder. This was some remarkable technology indeed.
He hovered there for a few more seconds and then flicked his legs. He maneuvered around the tank—twisting, diving, and gliding—so swiftly her eyes could barely keep up.
Talia moved closer to the tank, now standing just half a dozen feet away. It was remarkable, it was . . . She squinted when he passed by her side of the tank and then blinked rapidly.
Those weren’t static fins attached to diving pants. The movements were articulated by muscles flexing along Ballard’s legs.
Her mouth dropped open again, and her breaths became shallow. The fins were part of him, he was . . . she just stared. After several seconds, she couldn’t help a small smile. Janelle was right. Sort of, anyway.
She watched Ballard fly through the water, and envy suddenly swel
led up through her. Since she was little, she’d dreamed of moving that way, swimming so effortlessly. And he still hadn’t come up for air.
With her eyes glued on him, she unzipped her jumpsuit and let it fall to the floor. She slid the sarong down over her hips and placed it and her little waterproof pouch on top of the jumpsuit. With her heart pounding, she went to the ladder and quickly climbed to the top, where she sat on the small platform with her knees pulled up. She watched Ballard through the rippling surface of the water.
When he finally came to the top and his head broke the surface, she felt a silly-stupid smile spread across her face, and her chest tightened with unexpected emotion. She’d witnessed something beautiful and otherworldly. She was probably the only person alive—the only person from Above—who’d seen what Ballard had just shown her.
She had so many questions, but when he swam over to her and rested his arm on the platform just inches away from her, water streaming down over his smooth skin, her questions faded away.
“This . . . you . . . you’re remarkable,” she said. She made no effort to hide her awe, examining him openly. “If I were you, I’d never leave the water.”
Warmth sparked in his eyes, and her gaze locked to his, her heart hammering away.
“Talia, it’s not your fault. The women,” Ballard said softly. He looked steadily up into her face. “You saved yourself and you saved me, and that’s more than anyone else down here has been able to do. We will save them and return them home, I promise.”
Her breath seemed to hitch in her throat. She tried to smile in acknowledgement of his vow, of his recognition that she’d done what she could in the moment, but instead, tears began to pool in her lower lids.
Ballard reached for her wrist and gently pulled, coaxing her toward the edge of the platform until her legs were hanging into the water. His eyes were intent on hers as he drew her into the water.
She inhaled sharply when the water hit her stomach and chest. It felt cool at first, but after a few seconds she realized it was just warm enough to be comfortable.
He guided her arms up and placed them around his neck. “Deep breath,” he whispered in her ear.
She had just enough time to inhale and hold it before he took her under. One of his arms curved firmly across her back and around her waist. She could feel the power of his leg muscles as he kicked, speeding them in a spiral around the tank.
Then her head was in air again, and she was blinking water from her eyes and gasping for breath. She wasn’t breathless from exertion, but from the exhilaration of gliding through the water in a way she’d never experienced.
Ballard was treading now, using only his legs to keep them afloat. The gossamer touch of fins kept brushing her feet and ankles, sending shivers cascading up and down her skin.
“I want to know everything,” she said. “How you came to be this way. How you’ve stayed hidden down here. Below.”
His arm moved up to curl around the middle of her back, and he rested the other around the curve of her lower back. As the tight ripples of his abs pressed against her stomach, she suddenly realized there was something she wanted more than his story. Right now, she just wanted him.
“I’ll tell you sometime, but not now,” he whispered, as if he knew her thoughts.
His mouth lowered to hers, and her arms tightened around his neck. Her eyelids drifted closed as she reveled in the delicious saltiness of his lips and tongue.
She finally pulled back when her heel bumped something solid. He’d maneuvered them to the side of the tank, with her back against the glass wall. He lifted one of her hands from the back of his neck and placed it above her head and over the edge of the tank, indicating that she should hold on.
Then he began trailing feather-light kisses down her neck . . . over her collarbone . . . His head dipped under the surface as he continued tracing a path down her chest and around the outer curve of her breast.
Talia tipped her head back against the tank and raised her other arm to hold on, just as all the muscles in her body seemed to weaken.
Ballard’s lips moved down her stomach, and then he slid down the fabric of her bikini at her hip, just an inch or two. She gasped as he sucked at the spot just inside her hip bone. When his kisses spread down her thigh, heat surged through her body and gathered in a delicious ache between her legs.
He gently shifted her leg so he could kiss the back of her knee, and then trailed his tongue down the back of her lower leg. The touch of his lips just behind her ankle bone sent a tremor zipping up through her. He shifted over to her other ankle, taking his time and reversing his path on the other side of her body. When he reached her stomach again, he curled his fingers inside the cup of her top, pulling the fabric down and flicking his tongue over and around her nipple.
Her eyelids closed partway and her lips separated as she sighed. Every cell in her body felt alive and drunk with pleasure.
His head rose from the water and his lips met hers, salty and wet and warm with desire. All she could think about was experiencing more, feeling more of him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened, drawing his body to hers. She let out a low hum of pleasure against his mouth when she felt his arousal pressing into her. Ballard reached up to brace his one hand on the edge of the tank, and then crushed his mouth over hers, more demanding now.
She slipped one hand from the rim of the tank and plunged it into the water, reaching down between her legs so she could feel the hard bulge of his arousal. She slipped her fingers past the waistband of his shorts.
He groaned, the sound vibrating against her lips. He pulled back and let go of the tank, and quickly unhooked her top, letting it float away and down through the water. He pulled the fabric of her bottoms down over her hips and thighs, and she kicked them away.
Letting a slow, sultry smile spread over her face, she reached for his shorts with her free hand, easing them down.
She whispered his name against his neck, her voice rasping, and he pressed his lips against the soft spot on the front of her shoulder, just below her collarbone. With the fire of desire flaming through her core, she moved her hips forward and widened her thighs, letting her legs wrap around him again.
When he pressed against her, not yet inside, she sucked in an involuntary breath and closed her eyes, completely absorbed in the delicious pressure. He paused there, just pulsing pressure, building so much heat inside her with just that touch, she wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
When he finally slid partway inside her, she sucked her lower lip in between her teeth as her pleasure deepened and expanded. She flexed around him, wanting to draw in more of his body.
He reached up to tangle his fingers in her hair. He growled her name next to her ear, and then tilted his head to kiss the spot just below her earlobe, his breath hot against her neck. “I’ve never known a woman like you . . . never wanted a woman the way I want you.”
As if he couldn’t hold back any longer, he groaned and his hips drove up and forward to meet hers, finally joining them completely. She half-moaned, half-sighed, losing herself in the dual pleasure of taking him in and feeling him press fully against her.
She let go of the tank and wrapped her arms around his neck, and they drifted away from the wall. With each thrust, Ballard kicked, keeping them just high enough to take in gasping breaths. The feel of his muscles working turned her on in yet a new way. His breaths came quicker, and she matched her breathing to his.
She tightened her arms around him, feeling the beginning of her orgasm start to build. “Faster,” she breathed urgently in his ear, and then let out a moan when he complied.
Pleasure swelled in the center of her body until it couldn’t be contained. She cried out as it exploded outward, overtaking all of her senses in a huge surge. Ballard threw his head back as he thrust deep into her, growling with pleasure as his orgasm mingled with hers.
She kept moving her hips against him as smaller echoes of pleasure rippled outward,
until she was spent.
Ballard’s chest expanded and contracted against hers as he breathed heavily for a few moments.
Talia clung to him, not trusting her muscles to keep her afloat. He withdrew from her and then pulled her close, doing the work for both of them to stay afloat, until her breathing calmed.
Finally, she came back to her senses enough to look into his eyes. “I wish we could stay here.”
“Me too.” His lips met hers in a warm, lingering kiss. Then he pulled away and tipped his forehead against hers. “When I’m with you, everything else fades away. There’s no Below or Above, no mission, no secrets . . . just you.”
She smiled and trailed her fingers down his cheek, and then closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his skin against hers. When she felt the movement of water, she opened her eyes. He was moving them toward the ledge.
She sighed. “I guess we have people so save and bad guys to fight.”
He chuckled, a warm rumble low in his throat. “We do have some important business to attend to.”
He went under and wrapped his good arm around her waist, and then kicked hard to lift her up out of the water and place her gently down, sitting and dripping salt water on the ledge. Then he arced his body in a flipping turn and she watched as he darted like an arrow to the bottom of the tank, where he retrieved the two pieces of her bathing suit and his own shorts.
He surfaced and handed her suit to her with a grin. “Not that I’m encouraging you to get dressed. Or to wear clothes ever again, really.” He slipped his shorts on under water.
She gave him an amused half-smile as she wrung out her wet swimsuit and tossed both pieces over her shoulder so her hands would be free to grip the ladder.
Legends of the Damned: A Collection of Edgy Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Novels Page 122