by Maira Dawn
Dylan’s jaw hardened.
But he didn’t have enough people. And no matter how much he wanted to take these people down, he wasn’t at his best. Far from it.
No. They lived states away from Seaside. Once they left this area, the mad scientist wouldn’t be an immediate concern. The best way to save the community was to hightail it home and close ranks. Make sure those scouting for this place recognized the mountain was off-limits.
Behind him, Wade continued to bluster, but Dylan ignored him.
He had to.
Dylan’s hand moved to his own injury as a fiery jolt went through him when they hit a pothole. It was still healing—still hurting more than he let on.
He wasn’t up to a fight—not yet anyway.
The best he could do right now is hunker down with his loved ones until he was full strength.
He changed the subject. “So that’s what we’re calling them then? Atlantians? Are we believing that?”
An open window tousled Skye’s hair, and she brushed it back as she answered, “I don’t know what else to think. Here’s the thing. I saw the file, and I didn’t believe it, but seeing that tattooed man in person, seeing what he could do—how can we deny it? And there’s something else.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow.
“A young woman, Sonora, snuck into my room early this morning. She seemed to know the place and was shocked it was still there. Devon is her uncle, and she said he was in jail. Sonora said there already was a cure. And get this—it was the one we saw on the news, the Atlantian Cure.“
Skye frowned when Wade was about to interrupt, stopping him. “I know! I know it seems crazy, but she was credible. She said she and her family had left. So I wonder, where did they go? Atlantis? She said she came up here for some things they left behind. Up here? It all fits.”
Dylan rubbed a hand over his jaw. “So, you’re thinkin’ she’s one of them? An Atlantian?”
“I don’t know. She was no bigger than me unless it’s just the men who are larger. I supposed it’s possible, I mean look at some of our basketball players, they’re tall.” Skye bit her lip. “I doubt they are aware one of their own has been left behind.”
“Well,” Wade said, “We don’t know them. Maybe they just cut their losses and left him there.”
“I don’t think so,” Skye disagreed, “because Sonora said she’d come back for me, and she doesn’t even know me.”
“She’s coming back to rescue you?” Dylan asked.
Skye nodded. “And bringing her husband and his family. She said they were all big and fighters.”
Dylan squinted his eyes and looked out the side window. If that girl came back looking for Skye and got hurt because of it . . .
Still not his problem. If she had a big, powerful army to back her up, this Sonora would be fine.
Dylan gnawed on a fingernail. He sure couldn’t fight worth anything if he wanted to, not with this wound. He just wanted to go home.
Dylan turned into the driveway of the house where the rest of the group waited. He got out of the truck and walked to the back yard overlooking the ocean and the big gray dome that the mad scientist called home and others called hell.
From here, it looked no bigger than a coffee cup—but it still looked like trouble.
And the more Dylan heard, the worse it got.
The door of the house sprang open and Jesse flew out and down the porch stairs. He ran into Skye’s outstretched arms and hugged her tight.
Skye squeezed the boy close, her eyes closed, pure happiness warming her face.
“Jesse,” she breathed out his name. “I worried so many times over the last few days that I’d never—I’d never— “
She pulled him tighter as she cried.
“I wanted to go with them and find you, Mom, but they made me sit here and twiddle my thumbs.”
Skye kissed the side of his head and ran a hand over his hair. “I know, Jesse. But it’s fine now. Everything worked out just fine.” Skye put a hand on either side of his face and gave him a watery smile. “I’m just so happy to see you.”
Forty
The Love of His Life
Later, the group sat in the backyard of an abandoned house. They gathered around a low campfire hidden by trees and ate vending machine food they had scrounged up.
Even though Wade continued to rally the troops for a fight, the decision had been made to leave in a couple of hours, traveling by the dark of the night. Most agreed that any battle they began could only be won with more men and weapons than they had available. For now, they kept a lookout for anyone searching for Skye.
Skye slumped in her lawn chair, exhausted from the past few days, and dozed as the others discussed the problem.
When Skye stirred, Dylan took the chair beside her, handing her some aspirin and a bottle of water. “Here, darlin’. We’ll get Doc to look at you the minute you get home.”
Skye nodded as she swallowed and sipped—her eyes on the ground.
He stared at her. Something wasn’t right. “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“There’s something. Is it your face? That’ll heal, darlin’. It just needs some time.”
“It’s not my face.”
Dylan brushed her hair to one side and kissed her bruised forehead. “What then? It’s okay to tell me.”
“It’s just... all those poor people under Devon’s control—hurting so badly. I wish we could help them now.”
“We ain’t got enough manpower. The few of us against one hundred or more. You saw them. We gotta go home. Get safe. We’ll come back when we can.”
“I understand. But that kind of evil,” Skye pointed to the domed building near the ocean, “doesn’t just go away. It grows larger and larger unless it’s exterminated. It will catch up with us.”
Dylan looked at the ground. It already had. She just didn’t know it yet.
Dylan’s gut writhed with every thought of the place and what those evil people had done, both here and in their invasion on Cole’s Mountain, but he couldn’t do anything about it right now.
“Skye.” He steeled himself for what was coming.
“I want to go back.”
And there it was. Dylan sighed and pulled away. “Naw. We’re goin’ home.”
Skye stared at him. “You didn’t see them. People are suffering terribly because of what he’s doing."
“You really think we outta go back after them now with the odds so stacked against us?”
“Don’t you?”
Dylan’s gut screamed yes, but he raised an eyebrow. “How many can we really help?”
“Does it matter if it’s two or two hundred? They need us. I can’t even describe to you . . .” She swiped a tear rolling down her cheek.
Dylan’s expression fell as he pulled Skye toward him. How could he fight her on this? She’d almost been one of them. Everyone in that building had someone who worried about them as much as he’d worried about Skye.
“There’s a lot of firepower in there.”
“You don’t think we can beat them? Can we think of a way?”
Dylan stared into her big green eyes that begged for his help. This wasn’t just about that place down there. She’d never actually gotten over the fact that she had let Calvin go and still considered herself responsible for the people he’d killed because of it. No doubt, if they walked away now, she’d feel the same, no matter what he said.
He put an arm around her and pulled her to his side.
She groaned and put a hand to her bowed head.
“Skye, what is it?”
“You’re not going to like it.” She pulled away and put a hand on her ribs.
“Tell me.”
“I wasn’t a cooperative patient. That guard, Cliff, banged me up pretty good.”
Dylan’s face hardened as his gaze skimmed over her. So, her bruised face wasn’t her only injury.
“The back of my head.” Skye gingerly felt the back of her skull. “I passed out more th
an once. And this.” She lifted her shirt enough for him to see her purple stomach. “But that isn’t all.” She bit her lip.
Dylan’s eyes narrowed as she scratched at her hand for what seemed like the millionth time. “Did he inject you?”
“Yes.” She nodded, tears in her eyes. “Something—I don’t know what. But that roomful of dying people had this all over their body. I don’t know—I don’t know what that means for me.”
Fury ignited a red-hot flame in Dylan’s belly. He swallowed some of it down just so he could speak.
This was no longer some nameless, faceless victim. This was the love of his life they had hurt. His body went rigid—his muscles like bands of iron.
Through a clamped jaw, he growled, “They need ended.”
Forty-One
Introductions
Hope flared in Skye. The sooner Devon was taken down, the better. She wrapped her arms around Dylan. “I know, love,” she murmured as she laid against him. “You’ll make sure Devon and Cliff never hurt anyone again.”
“And make sure he tells us what he injected you with so we can get it treated.”
She tipped her head toward Wade. “You should talk to your brother.”
One glance and a nod of Dylan’s head and Wade was at his side.
With Dylan’s declaration of war, Wade uttered a single word. “Finally!”
The three stared at the moon-lit dome below them.
“I’m so fired up I wish I could tear through the building right now,” Dylan said.
“I hear ya, brother,” Wade agreed.
Dylan looked at Wade, then threw a glance at the good men around the campfire. “We have fighters, but not enough.”
Wade nodded. “And if we go in with explosives, we might hurt some good people.”
“We need to be careful,” Skye said. “We’re there to help them.”
Dylan and Wade continued to throw out options. When the driveway gravel crunched behind them, everyone instantly became quiet.
Everyone whirled toward the sound, weapons drawn.
Standing in the drive was a dark-haired, very tall, muscular man, dressed in a dark blue uniform. A weapon similar to a rifle hung over his shoulder. He held one hand up in greeting while holding a small blonde woman behind him with the other. She struggled to get by him.
Skye smiled when she recognized the woman and started forward. “Sonora!”
Dylan grabbed her arm to stop her.
The younger woman waved, a big grin covering her face. “Hi! I’m so happy—“
The man in front of her barked something in a language Skye didn’t understand.
Sonora made a face and continued. “—you’re out of that place. Are you okay?”
“I am. I think.”
Sonora almost made it around Ian, but he swatted her back again. She punched him in the arm and complained, “You big brut.”
Dylan looked at Skye with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s Sonora,” she explained. “The woman who said she’d save me. They’re friendly.”
“We don’t know that. He has a weapon.”
“Of course he does. But he hasn’t drawn it. But you two continue to aim yours at them.”
“He could have others with them.”
“Dylan! They are friends.”
Skye almost laughed when Sonora succeeded in escaping the large man, only to have him grab the back of her knee-length sky-blue dress. She stopped immediately, and Skye didn’t blame her. It didn’t look as if the light material would survive a tug-of-war.
“Woman!” The large man said, “You make a dignified entry impossible.”
“Ian, you don’t need to impress them. They are friends.” She shook her dress. “Now let me go.”
Skye watched the war of wills. “Are you okay, Sonora?”
“Oh yeah, this is my husband. He doesn’t always play nice with Humans—including his wife.” Sonora turned to scowl at him. “He’s still upset with me for coming up here without him,” Sonora pretended to whisper to Skye.
Ian gave an exaggerated sigh. “I had reason to be upset. You put yourself in danger. However, I will release your dress if you vow to stay by my side.”
Sonora threw up her hands. “Fine. If that will help things move along.”
“It will, Jata Ara. I appreciate your cooperation.”
Ian turned to Dylan and Wade, scanning them from head to feet. “I am Caspian of the Orca Clan,” he proudly introduced himself, “though most call me Ian, and from Atlantis. Do you know of my people?”
The brothers stared back at Ian.
Wade scratched the scruff on his chin. “Well, maybe?”
Ian’s eyes lit with amusement. “That is a start.” He nodded toward the Cole’s weapons that still pointed at him and his wife. “Can I assume we will not be firing upon each other?”
Dylan and Wade glanced at each other and lowered their weapons.
“I’d also like to introduce my lovely—and impatient—bride, Sonora. Originally from the town of Seaside, though, I have persuaded her to be my mate. Not an easy task, I assure you. As you can see, it can be quite exhausting to keep her at my side.”
Sonora threw Ian an irritated glance, but when he turned a gaze of utter devotion toward her, the irritation faded, and adoration took its place. She wound her arm through his and patted him.
“May we approach?” Ian asked.
Dylan nodded, and the couple approached as he introduced himself. “I’m Dylan Cole. This here is my fiancé, Skye Jackson, our son, Jesse, and my brother, Wade. The others are our friends.”
Wade waved back the group that had gathered behind them. “Let’s give ‘em room, boys. They’re friendly.”
As Ian reached Dylan’s side, he stared down the hill at Seaside. “Gentlemen, I’m assuming you are discussing the situation below.”
“Yeah,” Dylan said, giving Ian a cautious look.
“My family and I would like to help with that. We believed the situation under control until recently. We would like to help finish what we started. Let me explain what I mean.”
While the men talked, Sonora made her way over to Skye. “Did my uncle do this?” she asked, pointing to Skye’s bruised face.
“One of his henchmen, Cliff.” Skye could barely utter his name.
Tears sprang to Sonora’s eyes. “I’m so sorry. We had him arrested and thought he was in jail. I mean, he was, but with everything that happened, he must have gotten out somehow.”
“What he’s done isn’t on you.” She hoped the young woman believed her because she was about to find out a lot more about Devon’s evil side.
Forty-Two
Atlantis
More than once as the group talked, Ian’s gaze lingered on Dylan and Skye. Eventually, he spoke his mind. “Both of you are injured. Are you able to fight?”
“I’ll do what I need to do, don’t ya worry about that,” Dylan blustered.
“Your willingness is not in question,” Ian said, his expression earnest, “your physical ability is—and only because we can fix it.”
“He was shot and barely survived it,” Skye said. “How can you help him?”
“Did you bring a healer?” Sonora asked her husband and explained that it was a doctor’s tool.
“Unfortunately, I did not. But I believe a trip back to Atlantis may do us all good. Skye is not only bruised. Something deeper moves inside her. Do you feel it, Skye?”
Tears came to her eyes. A dark shadow had taken up residence in her since Devon’s final injection. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t banish it. Instead, it had grown and with it had come pain. Ian was right, something was wrong with her—very wrong.
“Can you help me?” Her voice came as a whisper, as if afraid the thing inside her would hear and bury itself deeper.
“Our doctors are the best in the world,” Ian assured her.
Sonora walked over and hugged her. “Oh, Skye! They really are the best. They will help you. I just know i
t.”
Ian stood. “Then that is what we will do. Go to Atlantis, see the doctor, and gather our army and return ready for war.”
Wade stood, looking stunned. “Wait. What? Not Atlantis—like under the underwater Atlantis?”
“The very one.”
“I ain’t going.” He folded his arms. “I’ll just wait right here.”
Dylan stood, groaning a little as he did so. “I’d be doin’ the same, but for Skye and for this wound in my side, that’s getting worse by the hour. Ian is right—I can’t fight like this, bro. Just can’t do it. I’d be more of a liability than anything else.”
He patted Wade on the back. “I understand if you want to stay, but I sure could use you at my side.”
Wade ran a hand over his face and shuffled his foot. “Of course, brother. If you need me, you know I’ll be there.” He threw a glance at the dark water below. “I ain’t looking forward to this one though—not at all.”
“It’s better if we all stick together,” Dylan explained.
“That means I get to go?” Jesse asked, his eyes bright with excitement. “This is awesome!”
The group gathered their things and piled into their vehicles—some with dread, some with excitement. But one thing was clear, anyone who had scoffed at stories of Atlantians before was a firm believer now.
Forty-Three
The Sea
Dylan had never disliked the water until now. Raised in the mountains, he’d had little experience with anything much bigger than a large pond, but he did know how to swim—in regular water.
But this ocean he stared at now was nothing like the pools of water back home. This first glimpse of the sea would be memorable in more than one way. Not only would he see the topside but the underside too.
His shoes sunk into the soft sand as he walked from the parking lot to the water’s edge, the suction reminding him a bit of mud.
Dylan stopped where the sand mixed with water and became firmer and took in the sight before him.