Alexis rolled her eyes. “Please!”
Thor chuckled. “Compliments make you uncomfortable?”
“Only when they’re too exaggerated to be believed.”
Thor tried to look offended. “It is truth.”
“Thank you,” Alexis murmured wryly.
Thor stopped, pulled her to a halt. His expression was completely sincere. “In my eyes you are beautiful.”
Alexis stared up at him a long moment, discomfited. “Oh, so now it’s just in your eyes, huh? I see where this is going,” she said jokingly.
“Then why do you think they look?”
Alexis thought it over. “Maybe because they can look at me and see I’m not from around here?”
“You think you are that different?”
She shrugged. “We haven’t passed a single female that was over a hundred and ten pounds and under five foot eight … and blond. No wonder you thought I was short!” Short, pudgy and auburn haired. She stuck out like one lone peanut in a bag of popcorn.
“What is this word, pudgy?”
Alexis’ head snapped around. She frowned, but she couldn’t remember whether she made the comment out loud or not. “Soft and round.”
Thor’s eyes gleamed. “Yes. Very nice.”
“It’s not a compliment, dolt!”
“No?”
“Never mind—Do you think we could go back now?”
Thor studied her a moment, but turned without a word, and they began to retrace their steps.
Alexis was glum as they returned home. They had only visited one of the cities, but she’d discovered there wasn’t much point in visiting them all. Each was built like an island, connected by canals to the other cities. Each had a tunnel that connected them to the outside world like the one Atlantis, or Atalantium, had.
She suspected that was why Thor had taken her, so she could see for herself that any thoughts of escape were hopeless.
Chapter Seven
“You are quiet.”
Alexis smiled faintly. “People don’t usually complain about that.”
Thor frowned. “You have no wish to tell me what disturbs you?”
Alexis stood up. They’d taken their evening meal in the garden. It was a beautiful night. It should have been enough to lift her spirits. Ordinarily, it would have.
“Back home people would kill for something like this,” she said absently.
Thor looked taken aback.
Alexis chuckled. “Not literally! I only meant to say Atlantis is beautiful, quiet, peaceful—safe. I doubt anybody feels safe anymore back home. There’s so much—of everything really: hardship, violence, noise, pollution.”
“But you miss it?”
She nodded. “Isn’t that strange?”
Thor didn’t say anything for several moments. “You are thinking about returning?”
Alexis turned, discovering to her surprise that Thor was standing close. She hadn’t even heard him get up. “This memory drain Aurora was talking about—is it painful?”
Thor looked away. “I do not know. I do not believe it is.”
Alexis pursed her lips. “But you don’t know that it isn’t?”
Thor shrugged. “I have not experienced it. I cannot tell you whether it is, or is not.”
“And, afterwards, I wouldn’t remember anything?”
“No.”
“It would be like I had never been here?”
“For you.”
Alexis glanced at him. She discovered she didn’t want to pursue his comment, however. “What about everything that had come before? I’d remember everything else, right?”
Thor studied her a long moment. “I believe so, yes.”
That wasn’t the answer she’d wanted. “But you don’t know that, for certain, either?”
“No.”
“Because you haven’t experienced it?”
“No. I have not experienced it.”
Alexis sighed, beginning to feel a little annoyed. “But you’ve known people who did, right?”
“Other outworlders.”
“Did they remember everything else?” Alexis asked.
“I do not know.”
Alexis gaped at him. “You don’t know? What did you do, just take them out and dump them somewhere?”
“That was all that was required.”
That comment scared her and because it did, it also made her angry. “So, what you’re saying is that if I decided to go through with this, somebody would erase my memories, I’d be taken—hopefully somewhere where I’d have a chance of surviving until I was found—and then I might, or might not, remember enough to get home?”
“I would take you. And, yes, to a safe place.”
“And maybe leave me wandering around with something like amnesia?”
Thor frowned. “I do not know this word.”
“It happens sometimes when a person gets a head injury, or if they’re in an accident. Sometimes they just can’t remember what happened in the accident. Sometimes they can’t remember who they are or anything about their past. I heard of a woman once who had amnesia and couldn’t remember her husband or children. She was scared, because it was like living with strangers. It must have been awful for her husband and children, because they loved her and she didn’t love them because she didn’t know them.”
“I would ease your mind if I could.”
“But you can’t.” Alexis shivered. “I think I’ll go in now. I’m a little chilled.”
Alexis was still awake, staring at the ceiling when Thor came to the room she’d claimed down the hall from his.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, studying her.
She ignored him.
After a few moments, he moved to the bed, scooped her up in his arms and returned to his room.
Alexis didn’t protest. It obviously hadn’t done any good that she’d been down the hall from him the night before. She’d had plenty of time to think it over since she’d left him in the garden and had become convinced that the little tour she’d been given had been Thor’s response to what she’d thought were her secret plans.
She would still have preferred to sleep alone.
The problem was, he didn’t seem to get the message. Or, if he did, he didn’t care.
In any case, what disturbed her most was the conversation in the garden.
She’d hoped for reassurance. Not only had she not gotten it, but Thor had revealed an aspect of his personality that disturbed her.
He simply hadn’t cared what had become of the ‘outworlders’ he’d abandoned to their own devices.
Not that he should have been responsible for them. She had to assume they were adults. Adults were responsible for their own survival.
But what if they’d been ‘crippled’ by having no memory of the things they needed to know to survive?
“I did not take you only because I knew that you were planning to try to escape again,” Thor said quietly.
Alexis turned to look at him, realizing that, although he’d brought her to his bed, he’d made no attempt to cuddle her, merely placing her on one side of the bed and lying on the other. He was, she saw, lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling as she had been earlier. “You had other reasons?”
He didn’t answer.
Alexis sighed. “I guess that means you’re not going to tell me.”
He turned on his side, facing her. After a moment, he reached for her, pulling her close. He leaned over and kissed her before she realized his intentions.
Her body responded immediately, and with a will of its own, heat curling beguilingly in her belly and between her thighs, her nipples puckering into tight little buds, begging for his kisses.
Alexis placed her palms against his chest, torn. On a purely physical level, she desperately wanted to just go brain dead and let him do anything he was of a mind to do.
But her brain had not ceased to function. Warning bells were screaming in her head that she would regret it if she gave
in.
Regretfully, she pulled away. “No. Don’t get me wrong. Last night was great sex and I’d really like to do it again, but I don’t think it’s a good idea … for me.”
It was in fact a very bad idea. She realized she could easily become attached, and that wasn’t something she wanted to deal with.
Thor frowned. “Attached?”
Alexis pursed her lips, flipped onto her side with her back to him. “Good night!”
* * * *
A conversation about the weather would have been welcome, but Thor seemed disinclined to talk. Alexis could think of nothing to say for fear she would open her thoughts, all of them, to Thor. Consequently, the meal was eaten in complete silence, punctuated by nothing more than the sound of eating utensils scraping plates and the dull thud as glasses were lifted and returned to the table. Alexis imagined it must be like this everywhere in Atlantis, except that at most tables they would be mentally conversing.
Even the thought of it exhausted her.
Besides, she was a talker. She was used to talking to people, and hearing them talk back. Living in a telepathic society was for—well for telepaths, not for ordinary humans like her, who yearned for the sound of another human voice. If she was here much longer, she was going to begin talking to herself.
To all intents and purposes, she’d spent most of her time alone since she’d arrived, with no one at all to talk to for hours upon hours.
Typically, Thor had been gone when she woke and had only just returned. She was curious to know what he did all day. He was the guardian, the protector. A slogan she’d heard one of the branches of the military use popped into her mind—an army of one—and she felt a touch of amusement, wondering what they’d think of this army of one.
But there didn’t seem to be any threat to Atlantis that would require that kind of service so she supposed he must be something like a policeman. So—he must patrol the city during the day, watching for trouble, or ‘listening’ for it. She wondered if he patrolled all the cities or just this one, the capitol city.
“There are others who keep the peace in each of the other cities,” Thor said.
Alexis’ brows lifted, but she didn’t comment on his ‘hearing’ her thoughts. “Like you?”
He seemed to debate the question for a moment. Finally, he nodded, returning his attention to his plate.
What was eating him, anyway? Alexis wondered.
He gave her an enigmatic look.
Alexis decided not to go there.
She’d barely touched her food, discovering her appetite had completely vanished. She pushed her plate back. Moira appeared, removing the plates.
Alexis rose. She needed something to do, anything. She didn’t dare think, and if she couldn’t think, she had to do.
“What do Atlanteans do for entertainment?”
She was almost immediately sorry she’d said that.
Thor studied her for a long moment. Finally, he, too, rose, extending his hand. “It is festival time. I will take you.”
“Uh. Actually, I hadn’t expected to go out, not like this, anyway,” Alexis said, crossing her arms uncomfortably when Thor looked her up and down.
“Our customs are very difficult for you.”
It wasn’t a question. Alexis shrugged. “I suppose, given time, I might grow accustomed, but in just a few days….”
Thor looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Wait here.”
He was back in a few minutes, carrying a cloak—undoubtedly his. When he’d draped it around her shoulders, she saw that it was about a foot too long.
Thor frowned. “We’ll have to shorten it for you.”
“Oh, no! I’d hate for you to cut it up. It’ll be fine, really! Actually, it looks kind of neat, like I have a train or something.”
“You are certain? It is likely to be trampled upon.”
“You’ve got a point,” Alexis said, frowning. She reached down, grasped the hem of the cloak and flipped it over her arm. “There.”
Thor looked doubtful, but took her arm, looping it through his, and escorted her from the house.
It was a rather courtly gesture, reminding her of the ‘gentlemanly’ behavior of past centuries. Unfortunately, she wasn’t altogether comfortable with Thor’s proximity, but if Thor read that thought, he chose to ignore it.
It was night, she saw, as they left Thor’s house. A gentle breeze wafted across the cove, bringing with it the pleasantly pungent scent of the sea. Above them, a full moon and a million stars lit up the night, bathing the city in a gentle glow that chased shadows into tiny corners around buildings and beneath trees.
It was almost impossible to grasp that it was entirely manufactured. In every way, it looked, smelled and felt like the most perfect of spring nights.
She couldn’t even keep her home this well acclimated. How the Atlanteans managed to do so on such a scale amazed her.
She studied the buildings they passed, admiring the architecture. Each was unique, and yet each building complimented the others around it, giving the city as a whole a continuity one rarely saw in cities of any size.
There were no vehicles of any kind on the streets. They passed a vender pushing a cart laden with what appeared to be oil lamps, but otherwise no sort of conveyance.
Everyone in Atlantis, it seemed, walked where ever they went—or shifted into a birdman and flew, or into a merman and swam.
Small wonder everyone they passed was lithe, fit—Alexis realized suddenly that, with the exception of the elderly who could not be expected to be lovely, she had not seen a soul who could’ve even been described as plain.
Vanity, then, must not be a big problem. It would be difficult to feel exceptionally pretty in a place where everyone was attractive.
Alexis didn’t find it all difficult to feel dull and plain beside them.
She was fit though. She had only been eight when her mother died, leaving her and her father alone. Naturally enough, her father had been inclined to push her toward sports. Not that she’d been very good at any of it, but her attempts to please him had resulted in growing up physically fit.
It had been her father who’d insisted she take up kick-boxing, despite her earnest objections, so that she could learn self-defense. She had not liked it. She had dropped out after only a few months and that had been years ago. She was surprised she’d even remembered any of the moves, let alone been able to perform them, but she was glad now that he’d insisted. All that time spent playing punching bag had been worth it if only for the look on Thor’s face, and Helen’s, when she’d creamed them. If there had been any chance at all of escaping that first day, the self-defense moves she’d learned years ago would have earned her freedom for her.
She missed him.
She didn’t want to think about it, however, and returned her attention to familiarizing herself with her surroundings. She discovered that they had traversed several blocks while she’d allowed her mind to wander.
As they neared the center of town, the foot traffic picked up. Every person they passed, nodded, bowed and smiled. Apparently Thor was well known, and respected or liked, by everyone.
She glanced up at him.
She had lied. She didn’t think she could ever grow accustomed to this place. It was beautiful, quiet, peaceful and well ordered. It was totally alien and almost made her yearn for the din of car engines; horns; talking, laughing, screaming people; the stench of pollution.
HER people might be every awful thing in the world that the Atlanteans were not, but they were—alive.
Being in Atlantis was like walking through a ghost town, watching wraiths drift silently by.
And then she realized what was wrong. There were no children. She had not seen a single child in all the time she’d been here.
“Where are the children?”
Thor didn’t look at her. “They will be at the festival.”
Alexis suddenly felt silly. She would not ‘hear’ the chatter and giggles of children
. She was not telepathic and that was the only way, apparently, that Atlanteans ever communicated, except with outsiders like herself.
Moira could barely even vocalize words.
Thor stopped, pulling Alexis to a stop, as well. “There are few children. You do not understand our ways.”
Alexis looked up at him in surprise. “Why?”
“It is rarely allowed.”
“Having children!” Alexis couldn’t contain her shock. “You have to get special permission?”
Thor nodded.
Alexis thought about it a moment. “Oh. Population control.”
Thor looked as if he might say something, then stopped. After a moment, he merely nodded. “I tell you this, here, because it is a source of great pain to many who yearn for children. I don’t believe you would intentionally hurt anyone, but through ignorance….”
Alexis felt a welling of pity. She had wanted, for years now, to start a family of her own, but at least she knew that she could. How awful it must be for those who had no hope of it!
Thor lifted a hand, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. “You have a good heart and a quick understanding.”
Alexis looked away, uncomfortable.
Thor caught her chin, urging her to look at him. “You are an exceptional human being.”
Alexis blushed, grinning in embarrassment. “Not really. As my father used to say, if you can’t dazzle them with brilliance, baffle them with bullshit.”
Thor smiled, dropping his hands to her shoulders and pulling her closer. Instinctively, Alexis placed her palms against his chest, but she was never afterwards certain of whether she meant to push him away or if it was merely a token resistance.
She was mesmerized by his mouth as he lowered his head. Only looking at it sent a flash flood of heat through her, brought her body to readiness. Her nipples grew hard as pebbles, dampness saturated her femininity, even before her body molded against his, with just the faintest of touches as his lips brushed hers. “You are more extraordinary than you could begin to imagine,” he whispered against her lips.
Alexis barely heard his words. Her mind, her whole being, was focused on the touch of his body against hers, on his lips as they moved leisurely against hers, plucking first her bottom lip, then the top. Each time his lips brushed across hers, her heart thudded a little harder, her breath catching in her chest in anticipation.
Atlantium Trilogy I: Bride of Atlantis Page 8
