Maybe she was dreaming? Eating seafood usually resulted her in dreaming some really bizarre things. Had she eaten seafood, though? She decided she must have, even though she couldn’t remember having done so.
Or was she floating mindlessly on the surface of the ocean, hallucinating while her life slowly slipped away?
The man—merman—that was pushing her along in the strange bubble, headed directly for the light.
Once they’d passed the opening, she realized it couldn’t possibly be a cave. It was a tube-like corridor that seemed to go on forever, and it was man made because it was as straight as an arrow … or made by something, in any event. It most certainly was not a natural cave.
It must have been at least two or three miles long, maybe more, because it seemed they traveled through it for a very long time. They passed, eventually, through the tube and into what appeared to be a great cove, or, more likely, a cavern and underground lake, although she could see no signs of stalactites, which she knew would’ve been in a natural cave.
Then, as they moved toward the surface of the water, she realized the ceiling emitted a faint glow—like a bright night sky. Faintly, she could just distinguish the twinkle of stars.
So they weren’t underground?
It didn’t make sense. They should be underground, but if they had been she wouldn’t be looking at a night sky.
She thought it over, trying to add two and two and coming up with six every time, because it just didn’t make any sense at all. Before they’d entered the tunnel, they had been surrounded by the darkness of deep water. She was as certain of that as she was certain of anything that had happened that night. Moreover, the tunnel they’d followed had been straight as an arrow, and just as level as a if it had been laid out with a contractor’s laser. And, if they hadn’t gone up, then it was a physical impossibility that this could be anything but a cave.
Unless … Maybe it was like the bottom of an extinct volcano? Maybe this place WAS beneath the sea, but opened to the sky because the cavern had no roof?
She abandoned her useless speculation when they surfaced at last. The bubble disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared and she found herself being cradled against the man’s chest. More curious now than frightened, she looked around.
They were still perhaps a mile, maybe two from shore. In the distance, she saw the twinkling lights of a city, sprawling along the shoreline as far as she could see in either direction.
The question was, what city?
It could not be the US. Coastal cities might abound, but they certainly wouldn’t be able to approach the city as she and her merman had.
South America? Could they possibly have gone that far?
She was no genius when it came to geography, but it seemed beyond the realms of possibility.
But then, up until a few hours ago she would have said that pretty much everything she’d experienced so far was beyond the realms of possibility.
“What is this place?” she asked, more to herself than to him. “It doesn’t look like any of the islands I’ve seen before.”
“It is not an island, not in the strictest sense of the word, at any rate,” he responded, sounding tired.
She turned to look at him. He looked tired, too.
How odd that her figment had human failings. If this really was a dream, would he get tired?
She had a bad feeling that he wouldn’t, but decided that she just couldn’t handle any more mental calisthenics at the moment. She was tired beyond belief and her head was throbbing as if it might explode.
She dismissed it, tried not to put a great deal of effort into thinking at all, instead merely watching as they drew closer and closer to the strange city.
As they neared the shore and she could see more clearly, an odd sense of disorientation swept over her. The place … every building, was in a style strongly reminiscent of ancient Greece … except these weren’t ruins. Some of the buildings looked old, perhaps a bit time worn, but none were crumbling. Most seemed to be single story buildings, with perhaps a handful rising two or three stories. In the distance, in what looked to be the center of the city, stood a cluster of buildings on a hill, or rise. These came the closest to resembling the multistoried buildings one would expect to see in a city of this size. In the midst of them, a tower rose well above everything surrounding it, almost like a lighthouse, or maybe an observation tower.
“It’s beautiful,” she murmured.
The sense, almost of weightlessness the buoyancy of the water, had given gave way to a feeling of heaviness, cool air brushing her wet skin, bringing her to the realization that they were emerging from the water. She frowned, aware that she’d lost a sense of logic again. The guy carrying her was half fish, a merman. How could he just stand up and walk out of the water? She craned her head to see the merman’s tail and fin, but, even as she watched, they disappeared.
He set her on her feet and she leaned forward to peer at him in the dim light, watching in amazement as his iridescent scales gave way to skin, his lower body dividing to become two legs.
Well, two and a half.
He was stark naked.
Alexis straightened abruptly, blushing as she met his grinning face.
“Down boy! I don’t care how glad he is to see me, I’m not shaking hands!”
His expression became quizzical.
“Never mind!” She turned away, surveying the area, and realized they were standing on what appeared to be a stone pier. Steps led upwards to a beautiful stone house that looked very Mediterranean.
A wave of dizziness washed over her and she swayed, grasping his arm for support. “Where are we?” she demanded.
He scooped her into his arms and jogged up the stone steps to a verandah. Without pausing, he opened the door and stepped inside.
“My home.”
“I gathered that,” she said dryly as set her on her feet, steadying her by pulling her close against his side. Finding her land legs at last, Alexis pulled away, looking around the marble tiled foyer, her gaze skating over beautifully carved tables, chests … vases made of gold … none in a style she recognized. “But where is your home? And who are you? You never did tell me your name.”
“I am known as Adonis,” he said, and bowed in a quaint old world way that looked oddly gallant, given the fact that he was naked.
Alexis suppressed an urge to giggle—nerves or embarrassment, she wasn’t sure-- resolutely refusing to look at anything below his neck. “I wouldn’t doubt it in the least, but don’t let it go to your head. Pretty is as pretty does,” she added primly. “And we are where?”
“Atalantium.”
Chapter Two
Alex stared at him. “Atlantis?”
He shrugged. “Outworlders call it that.”
Slowly, Alexis wilted to the floor, dropped her head in her hands and gave up the effort to remain stoic and logical. As much as she hated women who wept at the slightest provocation, or yielded to hysterics when anyone with any sense would be trying to keep their wits about them, she couldn’t seem to prevent herself from behaving like a weakling. She cried.
She didn’t understand any of this. She strongly suspected she was either dead, or her husband--the snake!--had had her locked in a mental hospital and she’d been given some sort of mind altering drug.
But all she could really think about was that her daddy was dead, she’d married the snake that had killed him, and nobody was going to come looking for her.
He touched her before she realized he’d knelt in front of her. Oddly, the moment she felt the touch of his hand on her head, a strange calm came over her. It took an amazing effort to lift her head to stare at him. He smiled, scooped her into his arms once more and carried her up the flight of stairs that led off of the entrance hall.
The small room he took her to looked like a bathroom—except not. It was tiled, beautifully, in mosaics that looked very old world. But the fixtures only bore a passing resemblance to those she was famil
iar with.
The ‘throne’ looked … well, like a throne, not a toilet. She saw nothing that even resembled a lavatory, but wondered if the small cavity in one wall might pass for one.
There was no tub, but, taking up one whole end of the room, was what appeared to be a smaller chamber. Adonis stepped inside of it with her still cradled in his arms and finally settled her on a bench that ran the width of the stall. There was no curtain that she could see, no shower head, no knobs, and yet almost the moment they entered they were pelted by something that felt a lot like soothingly hot water, but wasn’t.
Still strangely lethargic, she was aware of being bathed, as if she was no more than a helpless child. The next thing she knew, she was lying, naked, on a vast bed, covered in satin sheets and filled with pillows of every shape and size.
The bed was covered. To her consternation, she discovered she was sprawled atop the sheets as if she’d hadn’t an ounce of modesty.
Struggling, she managed to turn her head and discovered that Adonis was sitting beside her, pouring something into his hands. The smell of jasmine wafted past her nostrils. Oil?
He moved to her feet, lifted one and began rubbing it—wonderful man—massaging each foot in turn until she almost felt like purring. Bending her knees, he scooted forward, settling a foot on each of his thighs, then began working her calves, kneading each one thoroughly until the painfully tensed muscles began to feel soft and pliant.
She didn’t really want to think. She wanted to just enjoy the wonderfully relaxing effects of the massage—except that she was far too relaxed already. In a way, it was almost the feeling of being inebriated—she felt completely relaxed, felt no real surprise about anything that was happening, felt no discomfort about the fact that she was naked in a strange man’s bed. Her judgment was definitely impaired.
And yet, not only had she not drank anything that might produce this effect, she also didn’t feel woozy in the least, just unable to do anything, and uncaring that she wasn’t able to.
Her attention returned abruptly to his hands when she realized he’d moved from her calves to her thighs. Heat started in her belly the moment his hands began sliding up and down her thighs from groin to knee.
She frowned, struggling now against the strange lethargy that prevented her from protesting, struggling against the stirring of passion.
The heat built as he moved to her belly and then her bare breasts.
Despite her best efforts, a moan of pleasure escaped her.
He smiled, lifting each of her arms in turn, massaging it, then placing her arms carefully on either side of the pillow that supported her head.
She wanted to demand to know what he was doing, but found she couldn’t speak.
“It’s all right,” he said, as if he’d read her mind. “Just relax. You’ll enjoy it.”
That’s what they all say, she thought dryly, but she rarely did.
Anyway, she barely knew this guy! How dare he take liberties with her!
“Shhh!” He murmured, placing a finger to her lips. “Don’t think.”
She frowned, realizing he was no longer kneeling between her spread legs, that he’d moved and was lying beside her now, stretched out, his body just barely touching hers. When had that happened? Had she dozed?
He turned away, lifting a small bunch of grapes from a bowl beside the bed. For a moment, he dangled the fruit over her, then slowly lowered it, brushing it lightly over first one nipple and then the other. The chill of the grapes, the feather light touch, brought her nipples erect, sent a new surge of heat curling through her belly.
She bit her lip as he stroked her, slowly, tantalizingly, trailing the grapes from her nearest breast, down over her belly and back up to her other breast.
Alexis closed her eyes, fighting the desire to yield to her body’s urges.
Abruptly, the door burst open, slamming against the wall.
Dreamily, Alexis opened her eyes, struggled and finally managed to lift her head, feeling strangely unmoved by the intrusion, neither frightened, nor relieved, always supposing this was a rescue.
Adonis rolled off the bed and came to his feet in an instant, facing the intruder furiously.
Alexis was only vaguely aware of his reaction, however. She was mesmerized by the angry warrior who stood on the threshold, surveying her as if she was no more than an insect.
He was, in a word, magnificent. And as naked as Adonis.
My goodness, he’s a manly man, she thought, her gaze drawn like a magnet to his member as it grew proudly erect under her unwavering stare. She wondered a little doubtfully, however, if it was, perhaps, a little more than she could handle.
Huge was always impressive, and mighty tempting, but a girl could risk serious injury with that thing!
After a moment, she tore her gaze from his trophy, surveying him dreamily, in a leisurely manner that missed nothing.
His features—high cheekbones, narrow blade of a nose, squared jaw—made her think ‘Indian Chief’, particularly since he had long, dark hair. But, even from across the room she could see that his eyes were blue.
His mouth was hard, straight and made her stomach muscles flutter pleasantly.
He was tall, taller even than Adonis, who must have been six feet tall.
His chest was massive with muscle … his whole body, but he didn’t have the veined, obscenely unnatural mass of a bodybuilder. His legs were particularly nice, mostly because she wasn’t used to seeing nicely shaped legs on a man. Body builders bulked up their leg muscles until their legs no longer fit together properly, and most of the rest looked as if their legs were atrophied.
The desire Adonis had been trying to awaken surged through her veins like fire as her gaze wandered over him and her mind conjured images of his big, hard, powerful hands stroking her … his big, hard, powerful everything making love to her. Her gaze returned to his face, lingering longingly on his mouth, as images of his mouth replacing his hands with caresses danced through her head.
The room reeked of testosterone.
She knew then that she HAD to be dreaming.
“Thor! How did you…?” Adonis growled angrily.
He couldn’t be Thor, Alex thought with contemptuous amusement. Thor was a Norse god for chrissake! He would’ve had acres of beautiful, golden hair. This guy looked huge enough, and powerful enough, to be a Thor, but his hair was dark.
The man Adonis had called Thor, lifted what looked amazingly like a sword and pointed it at Adonis. “I am the guardian. You cannot hide your thoughts from me. You have broken the first law,” he thundered angrily.
Alexis giggled.
He looked startled, turned to glare at her for a moment—as if he was certain it could take no more than that to properly subdue her—then returned his attention to Adonis.
“The council decreed….”
“The council decreed that THEY would judge outworlders.”
“She would have died.”
Thor lifted his brows, turned to study Alexis for a long moment. She could see nothing in his eyes that indicated more than mild curiosity, however, certainly not compassion for her plight. “The affairs of the outworlders are of no interest to the council.”
Adonis took a step forward, furious. “What about you?”
“I am guardian of the laws. I obey the laws. I ensure that everyone obeys the laws. Without them, we would have no order, only chaos.”
“If you feel nothing, then you have no humanity left and you are not fit to be guardian.”
For a moment, Alexis thought the man called Thor was going to attack Adonis. Maybe that had been Adonis’ intention, to provoke a fight? If it had been, he was out of his mind. This fellow looked like he could make mincemeat out of him.
After a moment, to Alexis’ relief, he seemed to regain control of his anger. “You should have returned her to her people, not brought her here. You know it is forbidden to bring outworlders here.”
“She was attacked, thrown in the sea
to die. If I had taken her back the man would have killed her.”
Thor’s lips tightened. “You must present this to the council … as you should have done to start with. Come. They wait.”
Adonis turned to look at Alexis. He seemed torn.
“Release her to me.”
Adonis’ head snapped around. He glared at Thor suspiciously. “Why?”
Thor’s face hardened. “If you do not release her, I will take her.”
Adonis looked taken aback. “You would kill her.”
“No. You would.”
Alexis didn’t understand what they were talking about, but after a moment Adonis turned to her, touched her gently on the forehead.
It was as if she’d suddenly come wide awake. Alexis sat up on the bed, gathering the sheets to her, looking wildly around.
“What is going on here!” she demanded, watching, bemused, as Adonis stalked over to a wardrobe, removed something that looked oddly like a cross between one of those hard plastic headbands and a headset, except that it was made of filigreed metal, and placed it on his head. Almost instantaneously, he was fully clothed--or at least appeared to be fully clothed, in some sort of short, white robe. He threw her one last glance, looked as if he would speak and then, without a word, stalked angrily from the room.
The man Adonis had called Thor approached the bed, studied her for a long moment and finally extended his hand. “Come. I must take you before the council.”
She was relieved to see he was wearing a loincloth and wondered what had made her think he was naked. Relief aside, however, she felt no inclination to oblige him.
“Not on your life, buddy! I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I’m not going anywhere with you!”
He reached for her.
Alexis scrambled to the other side of the bed, watching him warily.
He caught the sheets, giving them a jerk that would have brought her flying across the bed toward him, except that she hadn’t expected that move and he only succeeded in snatching the cover from her hands, leaving her bare once more.
Atlantium Trilogy I: Bride of Atlantis Page 2
