Dead Sea

by Debbie Cassidy

  Our boots reverberated down the tunnel, a tunnel that stretched for several miles and led to the sea. A tunnel that until a few minutes ago I’d been unaware of. A buggy powered by arcletic power waited for us. It was a small four-man carrier with a wagon attached to the back, but with Emory’s and Deacon’s large frames on board, it was going to be a tight squeeze.

  Light spilled from rods embedded in the wall at regular intervals as we approached the vehicle.

  Emory popped the hood and did some fiddling while Deacon hoisted the case he’d been carrying onto the wagon. It contained the generators and a few meager belongings for us.

  Ignoring the tremble in my belly, I pulled my staff from its sheath and climbed up into the back-passenger seat of the buggy before placing the staff on the floor.

  There was no reason for this? For me going there aside from Rydian’s stubbornness and spite. They’d never been a single attack on the sea by Genesis; for all we knew, he didn’t have the capacity to attack under water. My being there was a waste of resources, but it was also the only condition under which Rydian would release the other guardians.

  Emory and Deacon climbed into the buggy, and Emory started the engine. He was wearing a short-sleeved black tee today but was still sporting his black gloves. His arms between the black cuffs were toned and muscular. My gaze lingered on the tattoo, which was even more faded then the last time I’d seen it. My hand went to my arm where the ink he should have used was now buried. He’d saved my life, and I wouldn’t let Gideon have him.

  He put the vehicle into drive, and we were off.

  There was silence for several seconds, but silence was making my nerves worse. I prodded Deacon in the front seat. “Have you stayed in the sea dwelling before?”

  He turned his head so I could see his profile. “Yes, once.”

  “Emory?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve never stayed, but I’ve had to go there to switch out generators before.” He kept his attention on the tunnel ahead, gloved hands on the wheel, even though there was little chance of him crashing into anything. But the reason for his diligence was clear a moment later when the lights began to get sparser and dimmer. And then we were in darkness. A long beat went by, and then light flared out from the front of the buggy.

  “Don’t look so worried,” Deacon drawled. “Emory and I have excellent night vision.”

  I sat back in my seat and forced my limbs to relax. In an hour, we’d be under the sea. Under the bloody sea.

  If only Micha and Lyrian could have come with me in the flesh. Although they were with me in spirit. The warm pressure of Lyrian’s consciousness was at the back of my mind, and Micha was a glow in my heart. They were with me, just not in the way I’d have liked. Worry nibbled at my mind. Worry over what Lyrian and I had overheard. Maybe Deacon or Emory could shed some light?

  “Hey, guys, have you heard the rumors about people disappearing recently?”

  Was it my imagination or had Emory’s hands tightened on the wheel, and had Deacon gone even stiller than usual? It was too dark to tell for sure.

  I tapped Deacon’s shoulder. “Hello?”

  “A few sick humans not turning up to work is hardly missing people,” he said easily. “Where did you hear the rumor?”

  My gut tightened because there was more than a little inquisitive edge to his question. “I’m not sure. I just did.”

  “The Hive is a fortress,” Emory said. “No one can leave or enter without security knowing.”

  He should know, he built it, but something was wrong because they were both lying to me right now. I sat back, reining in my frustration and disappointment. I’d begun to think of us as a team, and teammates didn’t lie to one another. I’d have to play it sneaky to find out what it was they were hiding. Thank goodness one of my strengths was problem-solving. Fine, another question then, more to test my lie detector than anything else.

  “Emory, how’s the scuttler project coming along?”

  “I managed to find the parts we needed, the parts that run the trace and submit the messages. I think another two days’ work maximum, and I’ll have it ready to go.”

  “I thought you said it would take two weeks?”

  “Pfft,” Deacon said. “He’s obviously just that good.”

  Emory shook his head, his cheeks bunching in a smile.

  The miles slipped by in silence, and my mind drifted for a while. Emory and Deacon didn’t make any efforts to fill the silence, so I sat back to enjoy the ride. Long minutes ticked by, and then light filled the darkness ahead. Emory flicked off the buggy lights. They were no longer needed because the tunnel was lit up again, which meant we were almost there, almost at the sea dwelling.

  Shit.

  Okay, stay cool. Up ahead, the tunnel came to an end in a wall with a huge metal door set in it.

  Emory brought the buggy to a halt and climbed out. His shirt rode up a little as he exited the buggy to reveal a sliver of taut flesh, and then he was striding over to the door. He pressed an intercom and then spoke into it in his low, authoritative tone.

  Deacon turned in his seat to look at me, his expression tense. “Remember, you stay with us, even if Rydian offers you otherwise. Don’t look him directly in the eyes.”

  We hadn’t finished learning to shield, so I was still vulnerable when it came to Rydian’s mind manipulation, but I was so done with being attacked. The dead zone, then my own room, and now the possibility of Rydian. Anger bloomed in my stomach, incinerating the nerves.

  “If he tries that shit on me again, I’ll shove my staff up his ass.”

  Deacon’s smile was wicked and proud. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”

  Emory was at the buggy now. He walked around to the wagon to retrieve our stuff, biceps bulging as he lifted out the case with the generators inside. Deacon climbed out just as a rumble filled the tunnel.

  “Doors are opening,” he said.

  Sure enough, the metal door was sliding open, and a man strode out, not Rydian but someone just as imposing. His hair was golden and threaded with sapphire hues, and his eyes were a pale blue that was almost white.

  “Rydian’s younger brother, Julian,” Deacon said. “Stay away from him too.”

  Julian was dressed in similar garb to what Rydian had been wearing when I’d seen him. Tight, slack-like material and a white see-through top, but whereas Rydian had been wearing plimsol-type shoes, Julian’s feet were bare, and he was wet. Not dripping wet, but wet enough to have recently taken a dip.

  “Julian, what an honor,” Deacon said smoothly and in a tone that clearly said otherwise.

  Julian’s snort was indelicate. “Deacon.” His gaze slid to Emory, and his jaw tightened. “Emory, glad you could make it.” And then finally that pale gaze settled on me like a speculative predator.

  A sick feeling bloomed in my stomach, and I instinctively stepped closer to Deacon.

  Emory took a step to his left so he was partially blocking me from Julian’s view. “Where are the guardians?” he asked in his work voice.

  “Oh, they’re on their way.” Julian smiled, but it was an empty action and didn’t reach his eyes.

  He had similar features to his brother but without the facial hair and the imposing persona.

  “I’ve had special quarters prepared for you, little guardian,” Julian said. “Close to the reef.” He peered around Emory. “You’ll be able to see it from your windows. Much more pleasant than the usual quarters. You’ll be able to see all the little fishes.”

  His tone was patronizing and slick. There was hunger in his eyes, the kind that had alarm bells ringing in my head and my hackles rising.

  “No, thanks. I’m not a huge fan of fish.” My tone was blunt.

  He blinked sharply, and then his lip curled. “You’re rejecting our hospitality?”

  Fuck this, I wasn’t about to get manipulated. I held up my staff. “I’m here to do a job, not sightsee. I’ll be sticking with my crew.” I injected a don’t-fuck-w
ith-me edge to my tone, one that brooked no argument.

  It was the same tone I used on the kids to enforce bedtime and other rules.

  His eyes narrowed a fraction, and then he nodded. “Very well.”

  Movement at the door drew my attention and then three figures were walking toward us. Two men and a woman carrying staffs—the old guardians. The men’s faces were pinched, but the woman froze with her gaze on Julian’s back. Something akin to terror passed across her face, and then one of the male guardians put his arm around her shoulders and maneuvered her forward.

  Julian turned his head to watch them pass, a small smile playing on his lips. The guardians climbed into the buggy; they didn’t speak, they didn’t say goodbye, they did a neat turn and drove away.

  My heart was beating way too fast now as dark suspicions spawned to life in the back of my mind. Deacon placed a hand on the small of my back, and the contact had me standing straighter, because yeah, I had to stay here, but I didn’t have to do it alone.

  “Let me show you to your quarters.” Julian turned away and sauntered back toward the door.

  Emory and Deacon exchanged an unfathomable glance, and then we were headed through the door into the sea dwellers’ kingdom.

  Chapter 10

  The world beyond the door was nothing special. Another tunnel. Another set of security doors, and then … fucking hell. I was in the sea. Or at least that’s how it felt, but we were in a dome. The ceiling was far above us, and beyond the glass, orange and green fish swam back and forth, going about their business. Humanoid figures were out there too, swimming side-by-side as they flitted from building to building, and there was a shit load of structures out there—a whole city of domes and towers lit up by luminescent coral. Pillars rose up out of the ground topped with glowing crystals that lit up the water.

  The side of my face prickled under Julian’s intense stare. “Not a fan of the fishes, eh?”

  I turned away from the vista. “No, but your city is impressive.”

  He smirked. “Most of the other domes aren’t water-tight. This section of the city houses the only water-tight structures, simply because Rydian has a fascination for all things land-related. The generators power everything.”

  Yep, they had their shit covered, safe there in their undersea realm. “And the guardians? Why do you even need them?”

  His smirk died. “Because it’s what we’re owed.” He strode off again.

  I followed, with Deacon and Emory close behind. We passed through the dome into another tunnel that opened out into an even larger dome. This space had several levels linked by stairs. Colorful stalls were dotted about selling shells and silken material and weird globby-looking foods. Sea dwellers, young and old, wandered about. Some looked humanoid like Julian, but others had scales across their skin or lidless eyes and wide mouths.

  “The breathers come here to shop,” Julian explained. “Not all sea dwellers can breathe outside of the sea. Not all are true nephilim; some are byproducts of nephilim and aquatic unions.”

  That made sense. The sea dwellers were the product of Tuatha and Black Wing unions. But it made sense that the gene pool may have become diluted over time.

  We passed through the dome too quickly, with not enough time to study the wonderful treasures on display. No time to really see anything. But we weren’t there for leisure, we were there out of obligation.

  We passed into another tunnel, and this one split into two paths. Julian took a left, and then we were being beeped through a door and into a windowless entranceway with two more doors leading off from it.

  Julian pushed open the door on the right. “Your quarters.” He stood in the doorway waiting for me to go through.

  He was a big guy, and it would be impossible to step inside without brushing against his muscular frame. A shiver of yuck ran up my spine.

  I raised my staff and pointed at the room. “After you.”

  The smirk was back, and his pale eyes heated almost as if I’d challenged him, but he did as asked and stepped inside. Emory went through next, and I followed with Deacon at my back.

  The quarters were simple, cozy with two bedchambers and a lounge area. Wait … Two bedchambers?

  I turned to Julian and arched my brow. “There aren’t enough bedrooms.”

  He shrugged lazily. “Which was why I had other quarters prepared for you. Two guardians usually share this room, and the other has the reef room.”

  Let me guess, a female usually got the reef room. Maybe the female guardian who’d just left? The memory of the fear on her face at the sight of Julian made my teeth ache. This guy was dangerous.

  “I’m sure Emory and Deacon won’t mind you having your own space,” he said all smooth and silk.

  But I did. There was no way I was going anywhere with this creep. “I’m sure Deacon and Emory won’t mind sharing a room either, will you guys?”

  Deacon smiled tightly. “Not in the slightest. I don’t mind snuggling. Do you, Emory?” he said in his familiar lazy drawl.

  Emory blinked slowly, his face impassive. “Not in the least.”

  I bit back a smile at the flash of annoyance on Julian’s face. He pressed his lips together, and his attention moved to me. “Get comfortable. You belong to me for the next two weeks.”

  There was too much conviction, too much innuendo in those words. My stomach clenched but not in fear, no, this was a surge of white-hot anger, because seriously, what the fuck?

  Emory stepped forward to respond, his gloved hands fisted at his sides, but I nudged him aside.

  I didn’t need protecting. “I don’t like your tone, Julian, and neither does my staff.” I pointed the arcana staff at him. “I don’t know what’s gone on here before, but let’s get something straight. I don’t like being talked down to, I don’t like being pushed around, and I most certainly don’t like creeps like you.”

  Deacon made a choking sound.

  Julian’s eyes were slits of rage. “Be careful, little guardian, be careful who you make enemies of.”

  “Drop the little guardian thing. I may be small, but trust me, I can pack a punch. As for enemies, you’re the only one acting like a dick in this room. Maybe you need to think about what you say before you piss me off any further.” I took a step toward him, anger really simmering in my veins now. “I’ve been attacked in the dead zone and survived. I had my throat slit a day ago, and I’m still standing, so I’m not about to take any veiled threats or innuendo from you, got it?”

  He stared down at me for a long beat, his jaw ticking, and then something entirely dark and sinister crawled across his face. His lips turned down in an expression that would usually say that he was contemplating my words, but my gut warned me to beware.

  He walked away but paused in the doorway with his back to us. “Rydian has requested your company for the evening meal. Someone will come by to collect you. You’ll be transported to the palace. There are sea suits in the chests in your rooms.”

  And then he was gone.

  Emory closed and locked the door, and Deacon walked across the room, his hands on his hips, chin tucked in.

  “You did good, Echo,” Emory said. “The sea dwellers seem to enjoy intimidation. It’s either that or they use their allure to soften you up for consumption, but they have little appetite for nephilim flesh, so there’ll be no need for niceties on their part.”

  His words reminded me I wasn’t human, but why did that not make me feel any safer? “What’s the king’s brother doing acting as tour guide, anyway? I mean, he’s way too much of an arsehole to do a decent job of it.”

  Emory’s face was solemn. “I don’t know. Julian is the captain of the guard, not a welcoming committee. This makes no sense.”

  “Julian does what he wants,” Deacon added. “Rydian has a blind spot when it comes to his brother. After all, Julian is the only family he has left.”

  “A blind spot. You mean he doesn’t know his brother’s a creep, or he knows, and he chooses to ig
nore it? Did you see that guardian’s face when she saw Julian? She was terrified.”

  Emory and Deacon exchanged glances. “There have been rumors of possible … interference … with guardians, men and women. The council interviewed the guardians, but no one was willing to confirm the rumors.”

  My nails bit into my palms. “So, he just gets away with it?”

  Emory’s jaw was tight, his eyes dark behind his glasses. “I guess some people wear their monsters on the surface and still manage to blend in fine.”

  It didn’t excuse Julian’s behavior, and anger bubbled inside me. Why? Why hadn’t those guardians said anything? They were letting him get away with it by staying silent.

  “I don’t get it? I don’t get why they won’t speak out.”

  “Maybe they can’t,” Deacon said. “The council has long suspected that, like his brother, Julian has a unique ability, and that ability may be linked to suggestion.”

  “Suggestion?”

  “We suspect he may be able to mentally influence humans enough to plant a suggestion in their minds that tells them if they reveal the truth something horrific may happen.”

  “But you don’t know for sure?”

  “No.”

  And we kept sending guardians here? Knowing they were being preyed on? My stomach was suddenly queasy.

  “If there’s ever the opportunity to expose him, to prove his degeneration, then I’ll be the first in line to do it,” Deacon said. “But the council has made it clear that we shouldn’t speak of the issue, not only to protect those affected but also to protect the treaty. If our guardians stop coming here, then the king is within his rights to claim back the crystal, and the Hive would be exposed.”

  The council was turning a blind eye to this. Sacrifice the few to save the many. “I don’t think I’m liking what I’m learning about the council.” I glared at Deacon. “You have a say, and you let this happen.”