by Maira Dawn
Her new acquaintance, Ara, took a step back and looked at the others. "She is quite friendly, isn't she? Not what I expected at all."
"I'm sorry?" Sunny said, raising her eyebrows.
"Oh, don't be. It's just humans are usually friendly to us when they aren’t aware of who we are, but then once they do look out." The rest of the table laughed or grunted in agreement. "But you know who we are and are still friendly. Of course, you are in a rather tough spot. Us all surrounding you and Ian refusing to take you home."
Sunny's mouth dropped. Did everyone know everything?
"Not that I blame him, I mean, look at you. I'd give it time too, even though, you know, human." The laughter was in earnest this time.
A small crease crossed Sonora's brow as she eyed the group. She wasn't entirely sure, but she thought they were making fun of her. "Ian is taking me home tomorrow."
"Oh sure he is, guppy, sure he is."
Sonora's frown deepened at their obvious skepticism.
"Ara! Stop." Ian spoke sharply. He looked as if he wanted to drag Ara from the room.
Ara rolled her shoulders. "Oh," she dragged the word out. "My swimaway mouth! You haven't told her yet. So how could she know?" She threw up her hands. "I will be quiet now, let that conversation be between her and you. Love to see that one though." She barked out a laugh as she waved them to two seats in the middle of the table.
Sonora kept an eye on Ara as she settled next to a pleasant-looking woman, her husband sat across the table from her. The woman leaned toward Sonora. "Do you know what my own and my husband's name mean in English? Coral and Reef."
"No! Really?” Sonora said, her hand over her mouth as she tried to hide a giggle.
"Oh yes, as if we weren’t aware we were meant to be Jata Ara, our names told us." Coral giggled and sent her husband a saucy glance as she told Sonora about their own romantic meeting.
When Coral paused for a breath, Sonora asked, "I've heard the words, Jata Ara. What do they mean?"
"Well, of course, you have, Sunny! It means Intended."
A chill ran up Sonora’s spine as she shot a glance at Ian. When his Aunt Coral continued her story, Sonora's attention stayed with her tall kidnapper who sat across from her. The red-haired man beside Ian seemed to be a good friend. Sonora noticed he chose Ian’s beverage for him. The red-haired man pointed out the scratches on Ian's face and said with a twinkle in his eye, "Looks like you have a little tiger shark on your hands!" He waggled his eyebrows, just in case no one grasped his meaning.
Ian chuckled with the others. "Yes, she is a fighter. Got this bringing her here." When Ian went on to tell his friend the story of how he'd dragged her here, Sonora caught his eye and arched an eyebrow at him.
Ian coughed and switched to Atlantian, saying something that caused both men to laugh. Did he think that was really fooling her? Sonora turned to Coral, giving Ian as much of her back as she was able.
"Don't worry about them, dear," Coral said, "Men will be, well, men. Even the best of them."
Sonora's face reddened. No, men would be boys. "They're embarrassing me."
"Well, I'm certain that is not the way they see it. You are a treasure, and Ian wants to tell the story of how he found you. It is a favorite pastime of our people." Coral frantically tried to wave her mate away from Ian's side, but his Uncle Reef was hanging on every word. Coral gave up. "Let's just ignore them. I can guarantee you they will beg for our attention soon enough. You can make Ian suffer then."
After answering Coral's questions about her initial reaction to Atlantis, and a few from others at the table, Sonora took a moment to listen to the surrounding conversations. Apparently, everyone spoke at least one human language, and one person claimed to speak twelve, though everyone laughed when he bragged about it.
They discussed repairs of an older building at one end of the table, while at the other end, they whispered about the murder of the Atlantian. Sonora felt like shrinking down in the already too large chair so they wouldn't remember a human was here among them.
A casual comment by Talise bolted her upright. "Excuse me? How old did you say your father was?"
“He is getting close to two hundred and fifty now."
Baffled, Sunny asked, "Do you count time differently than we do?"
Talise blanched and shot an apologetic glance at Ian. "No, we count it basically the same way, different names and all, that but otherwise the same."
Sonora looked over at Ian, who slowly nodded his agreement.
She looked at Jorah's table, staring at him. She had thought he looked too young to even be a father! How could he, how could anyone possibly be two hundred and fifty?
"Oh my, have you told this girl anything?" Ara chided Ian, "What have you been doing with her?"
"I have been saving her life." Ian's voice was gruff.
"Well, they told me she was clumsy, but that can't possibly take up all your time. Talk to the girl, for sea's sake! She is ignorant of everything, and you're doing her a disservice."
Ignoring Ian's thunderous face, Ara turned to Sonora, "Yes, we live longer than you from… up there. We are ever so much healthier. Ortun over there claims to be over six hundred years old, though no one knows for sure. He is the oldest among us so he could really say whatever age he wanted."
Sonora's skin prickled as she craned her neck to see Ortun. Though old and wizened, she would have pegged him at the late nineties, not in the hundreds. Before she had time to explore this further, people stood. Dinner was over.
Coral hugged her and said, "I am surprised, but happy, to say I find you charming and lovely, not at all what I expected. It has been my pleasure to get to know you properly." Giving Ian a direct look, she nodded, "I approve."
Ian burst into a big grin and nodded back, as did the rest of the table. It seemed Coral's approval was crucial. After that, many who had seemed reluctant to meet Sonora, came to her side, smiling.
Later, as Sonora and Ian, along with his family, walked down the corridor to his place, she said, "You know, even though everyone spoke English, I didn't understand half of what they were talking about, and it seemed they think I should have."
Ian and his father exchanged a glance and continued. "For instance, what does your aunt approve of? And what should I be aware of already that you haven't told me yet because the only thing you have time for is saving my life? And if that old man is six hundred and your dad is two-fifty, how old are you?"
"We can talk about all that when we get home."
How long would he keep putting her off? Sonora shook her head. "No, tell me now. How old are you?"
"Sunny, I said when we get home." Ian sounded tired, but Sonora wasn't about to let him off the hook.
"Would that be your home or my home? Because even though you keep telling me you're going to take me home, your aunt sure doesn't think you are going to. Neither did anyone else at that table."
Ian glanced at the floor. "I am eighty-three years old."
Sonora came to an abrupt stop. "What? What did you say?"
"You heard me, I am eighty-three." Ian put a hand on Sonora's back and guided her toward the wall as a group of laughing Atlantians came by. He scowled when one of them said, "Looks like Sunny got the first of her surprises."
"That would make you like sixty years older than me!" Sonora's eyes stretched wide. That couldn’t possibly be true. It had to be some sort of elaborate joke no matter what Ara said.
Somehow they were at Ian's door. His family said goodnight, but the air was heavy. Aleena murmured, "Son, I hope with everything I have that this goes well for you."
Emotion poured from Ian. "Me too, Mother, me too."
Sonora stared at him. He was scared. Ian had always seemed so strong, so confident. If he was frightened, was this really something she wanted to know?
A Mother’s Fear
Chapter Twenty-eight
The dark-haired man sat at the dinner table surrounded by empty seats. He barely listened to the
dull conversation of the others as it droned on. The mother and daughter worked around him, one on the kitchen side of the room making a salad, while the other set the table at which he sat. The younger woman had gone around the table once with the silverware, now she made a second turn with glassware.
This house always used imaginative table settings. He had to give them that. Too colorful for his preference but entertaining, to say the least. This setting was no exception. The garish hues of yellow and orange would compete with the natural colors of the food. He almost winced when that thought came to mind. When it came to dinnerware, as well as everything else, the neutrals of black and white were best. It was unfortunate everyone didn't have good taste.
The man frowned as he reached to his place setting and straightened the fork that lay on a yellow napkin. For all the years he had known this family, been a part of it, he never remembered them properly setting the table, not even once. He examined the glistening silver tines. At least, they were clean people.
"But Mom, I called her again. She's at work."
Even his spoon seemed tilted, not a lot, just a bit. A small push in the right direction took care of it.
"Well then, we need to figure out who else to call."
The dark-haired man's eyes drifted to the neighbor's place setting. The knife was askew. It sat on an orange napkin crossing the spoon next to it at its tip. He put his fingers to the bottom of the knife, he made a slight adjustment, so it was perfectly perpendicular to the plate.
Azurine turned to her husband as he walked into the kitchen, her eyebrows creased. "Mike, Sunny's been gone too long. Sierra called Kelly, but she's at work. We tried her other friends. Last night, I let it go, but now I'm really worried, and I’m not sure what else to do."
Mike leaned back against the counter. "You're sure you tried everyone?"
The dark-haired man watched as Sierra added glasses to the table. Worried about her sister, she was careless. Sierra slammed it down directly across from him at the top of his plate, not just above the knife, as it should be. A sigh escaped him as he eyed it. Couldn't she try, just try a little?
Before he got his hand on the glass, Sierra moved it to what she thought would be its proper place. She smiled apologetically and said, "I'm sorry, Uncle Devon, I know you like everything arranged properly."
"It's fine, dear." Devon oozed kindness as he instantly forgave her. “I can be a bit troublesome. At least, that's what your Aunt Clare tells me."
"You're no bother, and you know it." Sierra hugged him and giggled. “Besides, you're my favorite uncle."
Devon warmed, as he did only in the presence of his nieces. His usual stiffness loosened enough to show his good humor. It was a joke between him and the girls. Married to Claire, Azurine's only sibling, he was their only uncle.
Devon eyed Sierra as she walked off, making sure she wouldn't catch him as he moved the cup to just the right spot. He shook his head at himself, Sierra and Sonora were his one, no two, weaknesses. His eyes scanned the room, the others he could take or leave, but those two he loved as if they were his own children. Devon shot a glance at his wife, once again thanking whoever ran this universe that he hadn’t had children with that woman.
He smoothed a hand over his hair in case it ruffled during the hug. Even when they were children, Devon would brave their sticky, messy attentions with a smile. A true sign of his affection, he'd always thought.
"If we don't hear from Sunny soon, we are going to have to call the police," Mike said to his wife. "I wish she'd remembered to tell us her plans. The last time this happened, my hand was on the send button."
"That was over a year ago, dear. I don't think Sunny would do that again, not after she saw how upset we were."
Devon's already good posture, got even better as he straightened. He didn't want police anywhere near him or his projects. Worry gnawed at him, but he kept his voice calm. "Why are you calling the police?"
"I thought you heard. Sonora is still missing," Azurine said. Devon witnessed a mother's fear in her eyes. He understood it was the strongest agony there was, a mother frightened for her child. He could not confirm that as he’d never had a mother/child set in his lab. It did make him wonder, though.
A second look at Azurine's wide blue eyes revealed more than the usual panic over a child who had been out of sight for what was deemed too long. Azurine was serious. And that could mean trouble for him.
"Missing?" Devon said, "I thought she was with her friend, Melly."
"Kelly. And no, she wasn't. I know she's not a child, but I haven't heard from her in over twenty-four hours, that's not like her. You know it isn't, Devon."
Devon did know. These were good girls who didn't like to worry their parents. Sonora would've called. He tensed, his words sharper than he intended. "So the last time anyone in this house talked to her was yesterday morning?"
Together, Sierra and Azurine nodded, tears threatening to spill.
Devon stood so fast his chair danced behind him. "My God, people, what is wrong with you? Why did you wait this long?"
Devon scowled at Mike, wondering what the man's problem was. Didn't he know the terrifying things that could happen to people? He started rapidly pacing the room, unaware of the shock on their faces.
"I'll go to the restaurant where she works and trace her steps," Devon said. "Give me an hour before you call the police."
Mike nodded. "Good idea. I'll check the businesses around here."
Devon agreed though he wondered if Mike would be doing anything now if he hadn't initiated it. The man had always been entirely too relaxed for his taste.
Devon strode out of the house before he realized his outburst would seem uncharacteristic and cruel. That type of behavior was reserved for his secret lab, or occasionally, his home. Cursing himself, he ran back into the house and hugged Azurine. "I'm sorry. I'm just frightened for our little girl."
Azurine nodded as she clung to him. "Please, find her."
Devon spotted his wife as she stood by the door with her hands clasped and ordered, "Claire, get in the car."
It seemed Devon's breath was suspended as he sped along the long, flat roads. It wasn't long until he reached Sonora's place of employment. After telling his wife to stay, he ran into the restaurant, calling for Sonora's boss. But he had nothing to say except that Sonora had walked out the other day over an unfortunate encounter with a customer. A quick word with the employees yielded nothing about her whereabouts after her shift. Everyone saw her get in her car and drive away, that was all anyone could tell him.
So where did she go? If that little jackass college student took her, he'd make sure he suffered for it in ways the little deviant couldn't imagine. Devon turned from the others, looking out the window. In the distance, he saw a tiny speck of blue ocean. If Sunny went somewhere on her own, there was where she would go.
Devon ignored all traffic laws as he raced to the shore, his sweaty hands gripping the wheel. Half-expecting to hear the wail of a siren behind him, he was surprised he made it without getting pulled over. The tires squealed as Devon turned the car into the half-hidden parking lot. When he found Sonora's car, he swung into the spot beside it.
He jumped out of his car and examined hers. He heaved a sigh of relief that it seemed undamaged. Studying the inside, he saw nothing that appeared odd.
Devon waved for Claire to follow him and ran to the beach, stopping when he reached the edge of the sand. His gaze traveled down one side of the golden-colored ground to the other as far as he could see, his heart thumping. Beach-goers were sparse today. It was easy to see Sonora was not here.
After bringing a picture of Sunny up on his phone, Devon turned to the person closest to him and asked if they had seen her. Devon continued through almost all the people there without success. Until his face downcast, he crouched down to a young girl and her mother as they played in the sand.
The mother brightened. "Yes, I saw her when we were here yesterday. She was suited up for sno
rkeling and headed out that way." She pointed out to the North side of the ocean. Then realizing what that could mean, her eye widened, and she mouthed 'sorry' over the small girl's head.
Devon and Claire exchanged a devastated look. Devon's stomach rolled, and he reached for his wife's hand. Claire's tears indicated her fear the girl had drowned, but Devon's anguish ran deeper.
Was it them? Did the Atlantians know he was the one who tormented them and took his niece in retaliation? If they did to Sunny even a small portion of what Devon had done to them, it would be far more torturous than any death she would have from a simple drowning.
Chills ran through his body as he imagined all the tortures his young niece could be enduring.
Talk
Chapter Twenty-nine
Ian held the door as Sunny went through it. The light material of her gown caught his eye as it flowed behind her, then lightly caressed the back of her legs when she stopped. Sunny hesitated and looked at the floor before moving toward the room she'd slept in last night.
Ian ached to let her go, because after this, nothing would be the same. But he couldn't. "Sunny, we do need to talk." He prayed she felt something more for him than he knew.
After all the nagging she had done to learn more, Sunny seemed afraid to hear anything at all, refusing even to face him. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. We can talk tomorrow."
Ian shook his head. "No, now. This can wait no longer."
Sunny’s shoulders moved with a soft sigh. Ian sensed her reluctance, almost a feeling of dread. She turned and allowed him to lead her to the soft chairs near the window. When Sunny sat, she clenched the arms of the chair, causing the material to pucker under her whitened fingers.
Ian sat at the edge of his chair, elbows on knees, and scrubbed his hands over his face a couple of times before starting. How does one explain the impossible? She had seen so much already, could she accept something more? Something that would change her life forever if she accepted it, or his if she did not.