Lords of Atlantis Boxed Set 2

by Starla Night

  “You must. To claim your queen powers and take your rightful place as—”

  “My life is here.” She spiked her voice with steel. “My son comes first.”

  His nostrils flared. His gaze intensified. “No mer would dare come between you and your young fry. Your dedication is well honored, Bella.”

  That wasn’t what she’d expected him to say. She wobbled, off balance. “Well, I know your race isn’t thriving.”

  “The needs of the many will never outweigh the well-being of a single young fry.” He glowered, fiery with the truth. “Any warrior would give his life to protect a child.”

  Her heart squeezed. She wanted to drink the nectar. Fall in love with him. Her soul had committed. Why not her heart?

  “But you want me to be your queen,” she pushed.

  “Queens channel the Life Tree’s powers.”

  She shook her head again. “Faier said Jonah’s soul was too dark.”

  “Faier is no healer.”

  “I know, but—”

  “You possess powers beyond the knowledge of any warrior. Try. You may succeed.”

  She turned back to the flower. It danced like a mote of stardust on a dark night.

  Wish upon a star. Free yourself. Leave this sad life behind and embrace a future far away as a mermaid.

  She could never turn her back on Jonah. Balim’s offer was too tempting.

  Bella couldn’t do it. She couldn’t.

  She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and forced her longings deep. “You said there were several ways to heal Jonah. What’s another way?”

  Balim was silent behind her.

  “What are you doing?” Starr asked. “He gave you a solution. Take him up on it. You can still save Jonah, Bel. And if this is the flower, imagine the whole tree.”

  Yes, she was asking for something crazy. Once he realized the hard, ugly, ruthless woman she was, this strange spell would break. He would reel back from her, push her away in disgust. The sooner it happened, the better. She would no longer fight the compulsion to go to him and—

  “The moment a bride transforms to mer for the first time, she experiences extraordinary healing,” he mused, as though feeling his way through a problem. “The nectar enters your blood, resonates with your soul, and performs a change. Humans are fond of injecting blood. So if yours is injected into your son…”

  “Then you think there’s a chance he could gain the same benefit,” she finished. “Get my healing with his healing.”

  He unfolded a stepladder behind the reception desk, opened the tank, rolled up his sleeve, and reached in with a small plastic cup. The Life Tree flower floated into the cup. He lifted it out and offered it to her.

  “Drink and accept your destiny.”

  I will never transform into a mer.

  He blinked as if he’d heard her. The silent refusal in her heart. The sharp burden she carried and could never give up just because tonight, she’d glimpsed something different.

  Balim frowned. “Bella?”

  Bella needed to go to Balim and cup his cheek. Dismiss his feelings the same way she had dismissed Harv’s. Say she’d already tried a similar proposal and there was no point in wasting the nectar on her when she would never become his queen.

  But she couldn’t.

  Balim stood on the stepladder, a lone warrior with heartblood-red tattoos snaking up his wet arm, a strange contrast to his suit. Stuck between worlds, he was forever lonely because he belonged to neither.

  She could not dismiss him. She’d cup his cheek and lean in for a goodbye kiss and crush her body to his, losing herself in his kiss, praying he never let her go.

  So she took the cup.

  Her fingers closed over the wet plastic. It was heavier than she expected, and the small flower danced with a strange light.

  Her throat tightened. What was this emotion? Sadness? She had to tell him her truth. “I can’t go to Atlantis.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you’re willing for me to drink this anyway.”

  “Now, yes. And then hurry to your son.”

  She couldn’t do this.

  The desire curling around her heart, urging her to cup the flower and drink the bead of glimmering nectar within, squeezed.

  Take it. Drink. Become a mermaid queen.

  She gripped the cup. “How long does the ‘extraordinary healing’ last?”

  “It has never been tested.”

  She got out the new phone. Her contacts were gone. She addressed Starr directly, even though it was dangerous and an outside observer would think she was talking aloud like a crazy person. “Dial Jonah’s doctor.”

  Balim watched her blank screen.

  “You’re not thinking straight,” Starr began.

  “I need to drink it while we’re transfusing, or else I could miss the moment.”

  “Bella, taking out the flower is what the Sons of Hercules want you to do.”

  “Dial. Please.”

  “Stick to the plan. Tell them you couldn’t get him to release it. He can sneak it out. You can’t.”

  “I have to.”

  Starr muttered. She had not secured the hospital or their route, and she chastised Bella for making herself vulnerable. “You didn’t even want to become a mermaid before tonight.”

  “That’s not true, and we’ll take every precaution. How many resources can they have to stop me? They’re a bunch of college kids.”

  “That’s what Hazel thought when she let in the window washers three times.”

  “Then the longer we wait, the more chances they have of stealing it.” Bella couldn’t let that happen. “I know it’s dangerous, but we need to go now.”

  Bella’s phone lit up, and the number Starr had retrieved rang.

  Fear warred with hope.

  If the only way to save Jonah was her transforming into a mermaid and yielding to the tattooed warrior, she would do it. She made the arrangements with Jonah’s doctor, but he resisted unless they promised another doctor would supervise and take ultimate responsibility. Balim gave her a name—Doctor Kowalski—and Jonah’s doctor not only got approval from that physician but an eager offer of help. They would be ready.

  This. Was. Happening.

  Now they had to cross the city to reach Jonah.

  The most dangerous journey began when they exited onto the street.

  Chapter Seven

  Balim escorted Bella out of the MerMatch office.

  His warrior instincts pinged.

  Although he had not heard the answers of Bella’s conversation partner, he knew she meant the dangerous Sons of Hercules.

  They wanted the Life Tree flower. They would try to take it from her.

  “Can I risk the subway?” she murmured as they exited the office into the hall, the blossom secured in a hastily emptied and refilled water bottle she held as if it were life itself.

  “We use a car service,” he said.

  Her ears squeaked. She tilted her head, listening. “Give me your phone.”

  “Mine is at the hospital drying in a container of rice. I am assured this is how humans repair damage caused by water.”

  She wrinkled her brows at him. “I’d think you, of all people, would buy a waterproof cell phone.”

  He did not know how to answer. “We can reenter and use the office phone.”

  “No. What’s the name of your car service?”

  “Dannika will know.”

  Her ears squeaked again.

  “Never mind. We found it. Is there a side exit to the building? No, never mind. I have it.”

  She rode the elevator to the ground floor, pulled him behind a potted plant, and peered out the windows.

  Balim’s hands clenched for his trident. Daggers. Their agreement with the American government restricted these weapons, and they were not effective in the air against human ranged weapons such as guns, but he would prefer guarding his bride with his blades.

  Bella clenched her purse in both ha
nds and tucked it into her body. She leaned against him, her soft shoulders and hips brushing his.

  His body hardened with readiness.

  Never had he felt so much like a warrior.

  “There.” Bella focused on a yellow car parking outside and led Balim to the red-emblazoned emergency exit. She took a deep breath, noted the distant guards, and shoved the door open.

  Alarms klaxoned in their ears. It deafened and staggered him.

  She realized he wasn’t right behind her, doubled back, and pulled him down the concrete steps. “Hurry!”

  The building guards shouted behind them.

  But Bella’s focus riveted on a tall male in ordinary clothing near the front entrance. He dropped his bag and jogged toward them. A stony look set his face.

  She yanked open the back door of the car, shoved Balim in, and jumped in behind him. “Drive!”

  The driver stared at them with confusion. “But those security guards are—”

  “Now!” She pointed at the tall man. “He’s got a gun!”

  The driver faced forward, saw the man, and scrambled for the controls. Their car veered backward, away from the jogger, and fishtailed around the corner. Balim slid off the bench onto the floor and Bella fell on top of him. Horns blared and cars squealed. His chest ached and his ears throbbed.

  “Jeeshus,” the driver cried, swerving through traffic. “What business was that? Did he have a weapon? I didn’t see it. You calling the cops?”

  “I thought he had one.” Bella climbed off Balim and got into her seat, first checking the blossom still glinting in the depths, and then helping Balim up and fastening his seat belt with a click. “I’m so sorry if I made a mistake. I got mugged tonight, and I guess I’m seeing weapons whether or not they exist.”

  Balim’s chest clenched. Again, he needed his trident. The mugging made little sense, and he could not endanger his bride.

  Not while he guarded Bella.

  They arrived at the metropolitan hospital. His hackles rose. Bella peered through the windows.

  “You want me to drop you off at one ward?”

  “The emergency doors, please.” She whispered to Balim, “It will be less watched.”

  The driver coasted to the emergency drop-off. “This is it. You guys okay?”

  “Soon, I hope. Thanks so much for asking.” She pulled green bills from between her breasts and slipped them into his bucket. “For your clever evasive driving.”

  “Hey, yeah, you’re welcome.”

  She took one last careful look and then exited the car. Balim followed her into the main entrance. She walked through the doors and pivoted.

  One of the hospital security agents straightened and approached Balim.

  “I must not cross here, or the director would call the police,” he said.

  “Oh, really?” Her gaze picked out the guard right away. “Hmm. You could have mentioned it before we walked in.”

  She grabbed his hand. “Follow me.”

  Bella wove between patients, ducked down a private corridor, and pushed into a small tiled room with sinks and stalls. A bathroom. She counted to twenty. Her thighs pressed his, her chest too close, and her forehead tilted forward so her fine red hair tickled his chin.

  She opened the door, looked both ways, and led him into the elevators.

  They stood beside each other in the small space.

  The doors opened, and she pulled him through another long set of halls, turning corners with familiarity even after he was long lost. These human hospitals all looked the same. Twisty corridors, forced air, stagnant lights.

  She clenched the water bottle as a shining beacon. Then she slowed at a quiet door and released his hand. “This is a locker room. I’ll change and be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Do not separate from me, Bella.”

  “I have to.” She opened the door wider. “The room’s empty. If anyone comes in, call out to let me know.”

  “Bella. I cannot guard you in places I cannot see.”

  “Jonah’s doctor is waiting for us. I’m jumping out of my skin to start, but I can infect him by skipping these steps. Please, Balim.”

  Even though every instinct warred against it, he released her and stepped back.

  “Thank you. I’ll be right back. I promise.”

  He stood rigid against the wall.

  She disappeared into the room.

  Medical professionals passed. He tracked the light of their souls in their chests, noting who was a friend of the sea. Humans passed by, their souls darkened with grief or lightened with tentative hope. Sometimes the human couples experienced opposite feelings from each other at the same time.

  Humans often married when their souls disconnected. They forced marriages. Forced joinings. Unwillingly created young fry.

  The mer could not.

  His soul aligned with Bella’s. The tightness in his cock, which had diminished during her absence, was proof.

  But did she understand?

  He would protect Bella with his life. She was so close to drinking the nectar. So close to becoming his queen.

  Bella peeked through the door crack, glanced both ways, and pushed out.

  Her outfit was new, and she did not take his hand. They entered a hall lined with hanging sheets of opaque plastic.

  “I’ll go in,” she said, carrying the water bottle with the dancing bloom in the crook of her arm. “They’ll start the transfusion. I’ll drink the nectar. You’ll wait outside.”

  “We must kiss.”

  She stared at him. “We already kissed. Twice.”

  “We must kiss again to activate the nectar.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Can it activate through two layers of plastic?”

  “No, Bella.” He turned her to face him, jiggling her wrists so she opened her eyes once more. “We must experience the full connection. Skin to skin. Soul to soul. Bride to warrior.”

  “Husband to wife,” she finished and shifted her weight onto her heels. “Okay. Okay. I’ll figure out something. Come—”

  A human male stepped into her path.

  Balim pulled her sideways, out of the path of the young man, and put his own shoulder between them to block.

  The male batted the water bottle out of Bella’s arms. It hit the floor on the edge and burst like a bomb.

  “Agh! Balim? No!”

  She screamed and sheltered the wet floor with her body.

  The male pushed her aside.

  She landed on her hip and skidded. “No! No—”

  Balim grabbed the male’s arms.

  The male slipped back, out of his coat, shedding it like an eel. He dove under Balim and reached for Bella again.

  No.

  Balim slammed a knee into the male’s shoulder.

  The male slid sideways.

  He wheeled up to a crouch and glared at Balim with animalistic hatred. “Your kind will die.”

  “Do not threaten my bride!”

  The man’s gaze jerked to the hall. Someone shouted, “Security? Security!” He snapped his gaze back to Balim, curled his lip, and bolted.

  Doctors raced toward them.

  He shoved one out of his way and kept going.

  Balim turned to Bella.

  He had failed her.

  Because he was not a real warrior. A real warrior would not have failed. No wonder Bella hesitated to become his bride. Rejected him as a husband.

  Why did a useless mer like him live when another, worthier prince fell?

  Little pieces of his heart curled away as she sobbed.

  Bella would never be his queen.

  She knelt in the middle of a small pool, cupping the mashed, shredded petals of the dead Life Tree blossom in her palms.

  Chapter Eight

  A week passed.

  Bella hunched over her dining room table, resting her feet on boxes still packed around her, and reviewed new hospitals.

  Causing a disturbance on Jonah’s fragile floor, smu
ggling in a trespassing merman, and coercing doctors to try a medically irresponsible procedure were prosecutable offenses.

  But the hospital director would not pursue criminal or civil charges if she took Jonah to a facility more accepting of her radical care.

  Her heart heaved like a paper boat on a storm-torn ocean.

  None were a good fit. None would let her continue to live in this building with her quiet neighbors and sweet bulldog of a landlord, Harv. But she had no choice.

  At least Balim had understood. He had forced himself to hold eye contact when she’d said it was better never to see each other again.

  This pain in her heart was normal. She’d held Jonah’s cure in her grasp. Probably. No, it would have worked. And his cure had been ripped away. Her entire world crushed in like a soda can in a trash compactor. Her disappointment and self-reproach explained everything.

  She would nail those Sons of Hercules jerks.

  Nail them to the wall.

  Her apartment call button buzzed. “Delivery.”

  Delivery?

  She trooped outside her apartment and down the stairs to the front entrance, signed the certified delivery slip, returned to her apartment, and tore open the package.

  A new cell phone. Not one she had ordered. She was still using the cell phone Starr had given to the street vendor to “sell” her outside the subway station.

  Gee, what a generous gift from a mysterious benefactor. Hmm. Gosh, golly. Who could the mystery man be?

  She pinged Starr and started her recording app.

  A moment later, the new cell phone rang.

  College students had no patience. As soon as Starr found them, Bella would ground these Sons of Hercules kids for life. What was that called? Oh, yes.

  Jail.

  “To what do I owe the displeasure?” she asked, keeping her tone pleasant as she seethed.

  “You went back on the deal,” the distorted feminine voice accused. “We told you to bring us a Life Tree flower, and you tried to use it on your sick kid.”

  “Shocking,” she said, flat. “I don’t know how I let myself get so distracted. Perhaps if you hadn’t attacked me in the hall, we could have both gotten what we’d wanted.”

  “Both gotten—wait, what does that mean?”