Stolen by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 4)

by Starla Night

  A flushed young warrior dragged Zara, bound awkwardly in ill-secured seaweed bolas, backward through the shallow black sand. He gripped a wailing Zain around one ankle. The baby struggled and screamed.

  The bolas wrapped around Zara’s neck and gills, strangling her. She thrashed. Her fury made the hairs stand up on the back of Elan’s neck.

  “You dare to touch another warrior’s bride?” he snarled at Commander Haren.

  The leader regarded the scene with icy dispassion. “That creature is no bride. She is a modern human. An enemy of the mer.”

  His veins turned cold.

  Commander Haren continued. “Because you did not come willingly to face your punishment, she will suffer.”

  “No!” He attacked.

  The three warriors corralled him with controlled attacks.

  A trident flashed near his left eye.

  He shifted to human feet and kicked the trident back into the face of the wielder, surprising him, and dodged the subsequent attacks.

  The warriors fought harder, realizing that even desperation didn’t immobilize Elan. They would still have a rough fight. The youngest fought furiously, quickly exhausting himself. The more experienced warriors settled in for what was going to be their deaths. Or Elan’s.

  That was how he lulled them into revealing their weaknesses.

  He drew them in and slashed them each a second time, forcing them back once more, and, in the startled bloody space, he kicked free of the engagement and raced for Zara.

  “Stop him!” Commander Haren roared.

  The flushed warrior let go of his hostages to face Elan’s attack. He brought up his trident, the handle kicking up black sand. Elan avoided it.

  And flew straight at the male’s hidden dagger.

  No time to dodge.

  “Elan!” Zara lifted her hands in warning.

  But it was too late.

  He braced for the hot bite.

  Another flurry of sand, this time white, suddenly clouded the water.

  The dagger clinked his chest as though running into a glass. It screeched across invisible plate and then sliced into his bicep.

  Hot pain and his blood scented the water.

  Elan rolled beneath the dagger and slashed the bolas strangling Zara. They dropped in a pile. She crawled free and collapsed on the shifting sandy bottom.

  The other warriors caught him.

  Bolas dropped around his neck and arms. Lines tightened, immobilizing his daggers. He kept a grip on their pommels as the warriors dragged him into deeper water.

  Zara remained in the shallows, hurt and stunned.

  The flushed warrior recaptured Zain, hauling him, screaming into deeper water. The war party ringed Elan. He forced sandy seawater in and out of his gills. His shoulders shook with the fight. Pain would come later. It always did.

  “Drop your blades,” Commander Haren ordered.

  Elan disobeyed. Even stretched like an insect in a web, he could inflict damage, and at an unguarded moment he could free himself. They knew it.

  “Now. Unless you wish to see more bloodshed.” Commander Haren nodded at the warrior nearest Zara.

  The flushed warrior placed his trident inches from her face. She froze.

  Ice needled Elan’s veins. “Do not threaten another male’s bride!”

  “Then drop your blades.”

  “You defy the code of the mer! Die, all of you, with grave dishonor!”

  The warriors twitched uncomfortably.

  “No one is touching your bride,” the bloodless commander ground out, stopping their signs of discomfort. “And no one will. If you will drop your blades.”

  He released them. They sank below sight, disappearing into the reef.

  “No,” Zara whimpered.

  The bulky, fleet warrior looped bolas around Elan’s wrists and ankles, tight.

  Commander Haren nodded at the youngest warrior. “Bind the human to the reef.”

  “You cannot!” Elan struggled. “No one knows she is here. She will starve or fall victim to scavengers.”

  The young warrior hesitated.

  “We have no choice. She must not channel her powers.” Commander Haren motioned for the young warrior to continue.

  With a cold face, the young warrior kicked toward helpless Zara.

  “She has no powers!”

  The commander pinched his cold lips. “She hypnotized you into forgetting your duty. She enticed you onto the land. She returns like one of those false Atlantean ‘queens’ to the water.”

  “I made her return to the water. She wanted to stay on the land. She is not like the other queens. She cannot make fins.”

  They studied her. Her feet were completely human. For the first time, Elan trembled with gratitude that she could not shift.

  “Look at her soul light. It is dark. She is no queen!”

  Zara looked up at Elan. She sat, knees splayed and helpless on the sandy bottom. Her dark eyes rimmed red with hurt. She trusted him.

  He begged for her life by destroying her.

  “She fought us,” Commander Haren said doubtfully.

  “Because of my encouragement. She is a true bride who has no power.”

  “Elan.” Zara’s bitter accusation crossed the shallow water. “I would save you.”

  “But you cannot.”

  She flared with determination.

  Their enemies murmured.

  No!

  “Stop this madness, Zara. You have no power. You will never be a queen.”

  Her soul light darkened to black.

  She believed him. Her fight was over. And all the warriors saw it, too.

  His heart ached.

  She gazed at him with broken hopes. Bitter practicality forced her to believe his words. He made himself impassive. She hadn’t made her fins, she hadn’t demonstrated any powers, and she would remain here, on the shore, with her people, where it was safe.

  He would betray her a thousand times. “Stay on the shore.”

  She flinched.

  Her soul light remained dark.

  Commander Haren turned, dismissing her. “We return to Dragao Azul.”

  The warriors dragged him and Zain away.

  Despite Elan’s order, she shrieked and tried to follow. But her stubby human feet were no match for the mer. They left her far behind.

  The war party descended into the open ocean. Familiar currents assaulted Elan. Had the surface with Zara been a dream? Now, he returned to reality.

  Back to the city of his betrayal.

  Chapter Twenty

  Zara went to the police station. She went to Borders and Immigration. She went home.

  There is nothing you can do.

  How many times had she heard that today?

  She lay down in her bed. Elan’s musky scent still flavored the sheets.

  Fitting herself into his empty shape, she rested her forearm over the hollows where Zain had rested. The cold mattress prickled her sand-burned skin.

  Agony stabbed into her as unrelenting as a stingray’s spike.

  She waited for the numbness to come.

  It did not.

  I thought you had power. You are not a queen.

  The agony stabbed deeper.

  Milly moved softly in the kitchen, clearly trying to be quiet so as not to disturb Zara. But she was only staring endlessly at the blank wall.

  She rose. How many hours had passed? She checked a clock.

  Five minutes.

  Zara dug her fingers into her palms. She sat on the bed and lifted her foot, inspecting it closely.

  It looked like an ordinary foot. But her back also looked ordinary until she got into the water, and then thin slits opened where her gills interfaced with her lungs, drawing water through. Which meant tiny invisible lines must show where her toes separated, stretching the extra skin between them like a flying squirrel.

  If she could make her fins, right now, she would go after them. Powerless or not.

  There is
nothing you can do.

  Her skin jumped. She had to do something. The numbness wouldn’t come. Her brain wouldn’t shut down. And her body was ready. Not wrecked with injury or blood loss. Not this time.

  Everything was Elan’s fault.

  He had encouraged her, pushed her, made her face down her own parents and win. She had beaten them. Power burned within her but she couldn’t unleash it. If she could, she would have transformed and helped. Saved Zain.

  She must still be holding back.

  Why couldn’t she beat the most important bully of all? Her own heart?

  She rose and stumbled to the kitchen.

  Milly looked up from a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich. “Short nap.”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Do you want to take something?”

  Zara shook her head and slumped into the chair across from Milly.

  Elan’s uneaten oatmeal rested on the counter, spoon still sticking out of the bowl. Zain’s was in the sink.

  They were going to come back. She’d just bought bananas. Way more than two single women could eat.

  Nonsense assaulted her.

  She rubbed her temples.

  “Headache?” Milly asked.

  “I wish.” Because that would be a concrete pain. She could take an aspirin. Tell herself it would all be better in the morning.

  Nothing would be better tomorrow morning.

  Her fingers closed around an abandoned glass of water. Hers? Elan’s? She took a stale, lukewarm drink. It choked her throat like raw tears.

  Milly typed a message into her phone. Then, she opened a manila folder and closed it again without taking anything out.

  “Homework?”

  “Not exactly.” Milly frowned at her long silence. “You are going to go after them, aren’t you?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I can’t.”

  “Zara, you’re the only one who can.”

  “How can I?” She threw her arms up in the air. The helpless resignation of the police, of immigration, of everyone spit out her lips. “I tried and failed. I have no power. I can’t transform. And even if I could, they’re miles underwater surrounded by a city full of warriors. And on top of that, I don’t know the way.”

  Milly’s sad silence tinged with disappointment. She didn’t like to see Zara give up.

  “Maybe it’s for the best.” The agony stabbed deeper. Zara folded her arms. “Our parents’ trial is coming up. I’m going to be here this time.”

  “I appreciate your support, but I’d rather have Zain and Elan back.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen.”

  “Maybe we could—”

  “I’ve been living in a dream long enough.” Zara slammed her palms on the table, making the water splash. “It’s time to give up wishful thinking and be practical.”

  Milly folded her lips and toyed with the edge of the manila folder. “You could at least talk to someone.”

  “What good would that do?”

  “Lucy’s friend might know how to make your fins.”

  “So what if I can? I’m helpless whenever Elan’s people attack. I freeze up and am useless.”

  “Last time, you were all alone.”

  Zara snorted. Wasn’t she all alone now?

  Milly reached out and took Zara’s hand. Milly’s were so hot, but probably they were normal temperature, which meant Zara’s were like ice.

  “Being all alone is the most frightening, powerless feeling in the entire world,” Milly said quietly. “When our parents kidnapped and isolated me, I did things I would never, ever do. I wanted to die. And you rescued me.”

  “That was...”

  She’d gone after Milly before thinking things through. And it had almost ended really badly.

  “I was really angry. A Social Justice major who was too busy to notice her own sister being trafficked? If I didn’t act the instant I found out, my college probably would have revoked my diploma.”

  “Things are different now, Zara. You’re different. A year ago, you were hurt. Hospitalized even. And nobody besides me believed what you’d been through.” Milly rubbed her cold fingers. “Now, everyone believes you. And they’d help you if they could. Vaw Vaw’s family. Facebook. Everyone.”

  But the mer city was still hidden deep beneath the ocean beyond the reach of even the hardiest submarines. The mer didn’t reveal themselves unless, like the city of Atlantis trying to build a bridge between the surface and submerged worlds, they wanted to be revealed.

  Even if Zara could make her fins, she’d have no way to reach Dragao Azul. Once there, she couldn’t do anything.

  “And also, I’m different. I’m not alone anymore either.” Milly patted her hand. “I won’t let our parents get away. This time, I’ll make sure the police throw the book at them.”

  The hope in Zara’s chest flared dangerously. She tried to crush it.

  Elan had lost faith in her. She had no powers. Their family would have been ripped apart someday. Today was that day.

  There was nothing she could do. She just had to accept.

  Milly’s lips trembled. “Okay? You have to fight. Or else…”

  Zara let the silence spool out.

  Her sister slumped onto the table. “I did something terrible.”

  More terrible than what had already happened today? Zara doubted it. “Oh?”

  “It’s been eating me up inside. I think I have a new ulcer.” She lifted her head. Pained eyes focused on Zara. “I was the one who contacted our parents.”

  Her words didn’t make any sense. “Huh?”

  “You were so worried about today happening. Losing Zain and Elan. Border and Immigration wasn’t being any help. Someone at Vaw Vaw’s made a joke about smuggling you out of the country, and I thought, who do I know that’s a smuggler?”

  “You had our parents’ phone number? All this time?”

  “Email address.” Milly’s eyes filled with tears. “I swear, I just asked Mom for how they got away. If they ran out of the country, you could too. And she actually replied. With all these questions! I thought she was asking so she could help us come up with an escape plan.”

  She dumped her head on the folder again. Her voice muffled. “I told her everything she needed to kidnap Zain.”

  It just … still didn’t make any sense. “Milly, why? You knew what kind of people they are. Kidnapping is nothing to them.”

  “But just me! I’m the one they target.” She lifted her head. “I thought, if it’s you, they’d help.”

  Zara pointed at the scar on her forehead. “This is from where Dad threw a wine bottle with a broken neck at my head.”

  Milly fixed on the scar like she’d never seen it before. “I don’t remember that.”

  “It’s okay. You were three.”

  “But you never…”

  “Never what?”

  Milly frowned.

  Zara assured her. “We’re just possessions to them. You and me both. Why did you think our experiences were different?”

  “You’re so fearless. You swam after their yacht and brought them to justice.”

  “I was terrified.”

  “And you talk about them all the time like it’s nothing. I can’t look … I can’t see their pictures without feeling this horrible, dark, squeezing in the pit of my stomach.” She rested her hands on her stomach and then lifted her trembling fingers with wide eyes. “Look. Even thinking about them makes me start to shake.”

  Stunning awareness finally shook Zara free of her agony.

  She had wronged Milly. Again.

  Suppressing her memories, keeping silent about her fears, and thinking she was the only one who would ever be abused by their parents had simply set Milly up to become their next victim. Remaining silent, to this day, had continued to isolate Milly. It had made her believe that only she would ever be hurt by them again.

  “And then I drew them here,” Milly continued, dissolv
ing into recriminations again. “You and Elan jumped in the water and revealed your location to the bad warriors. Everything’s my fault.”

  “I forgive you,” Zara said.

  Milly’s mouth opened and closed. “What?”

  “I shouldn’t have kept silent all those years about what happened.”

  Trying to “get over it” and “move on” made everything worse. It “dishonored” her injury, as Elan would say. From now on, she was going to double down on her anger. Really vent it. And she wasn’t going to be silent any longer.

  Zara’s anxiety faded. She knew what she had to do.

  “How can you be so calm?” Milly demanded. “I caused this. Zain’s kidnapping, twice, and losing Elan.”

  Zara changed the subject. “That first queen, Lucy. In your research, did you find out how to contact her?”

  Milly stopped, self-loathing derailed. “Her Facebook page. Why?”

  “I need to speak with one of those warriors of Atlantis. Could she put me in contact with one of them?”

  “Probably. You might have more luck with her friend.” Milly bit her lip and opened the manila folder. “This is the packet I was telling you about this morning. I’m almost afraid to give it to you. I mean, maybe it really is cursed.”

  The worst had already happened. Zara took the sheaf.

  Entitled, Stories of the Sea Brides, it appeared to be a set of interviews. A loose cover letter on the bottom invited Milly to share her story of being left behind for a year while her older sister lived on the bottom of the sea.

  “Even though you were not a sea bride yourself, I think you have a valuable perspective to share,” the author, Mel, wrote in loopy blue pen. “Call me if you ever want to talk.”

  Zara flipped through the roughly formatted pages.

  “Mel’s the friend of Lucy.” Milly rested on her elbows. “I didn’t submit anything, but I thought about it. I was really lonely the year you were absent. And then, after you got back…”

  “I still wasn’t really here,” Zara finished. She closed the manila folder. The dull ache of her loss changed back to the stab of recrimination. “I should have read this before I got in the water.”

  “It might still have helpful tips for transforming your fins.” Her sister frowned hard. “Those warriors broke their own rules. They can’t get away with that.”