Treasure of the Abyss

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Treasure of the Abyss Page 21

by Tiffany Roberts


  His eyes had repeatedly shifted to the bruises on her chest.

  She had said they were from her fall — when Dracchus first tugged her toward the water. While Jax was grateful that the bruises seemed to be the full extent of her injuries, he was still furious.

  He could no longer direct all his anger at Dracchus alone, and that only added to his rage. Macy didn’t deserve this — she didn’t deserve the pain, the anxiety, this imprisonment. Jax’s throat constricted when he recalled how she’d begged him for freedom, how she’d bargained for it. Though Dracchus had set into motion the events that ended with her freedom stolen way, he hadn’t been the one to ultimately take it.

  No, that decision belonged to the others.

  Jax lifted a strand of golden hair with the tip of his claw and wound it around his finger. He couldn’t understand why she seemed more beautiful to him with each passing day.

  She loves me.

  He didn’t fully understand that, either, but he’d recognized the weight of her admission, the power of her words, their depth of feeling. Just as joining held a different meaning for humans, love likely meant something more.

  Looking at her in that moment, he knew the truth in his hearts. He’d do everything and anything to keep her safe. He’d never tire of her, would never cast her aside, would never betray her. Jax couldn’t imagine his life without her anymore. Every taste of Macy, no matter how minor, made him want more. Now, he was sure — he would give up anything for her, his people included.

  Macy sighed, brushing her hand over his chest and up to his jaw.

  “You okay?” Her voice was soft and slurred with grogginess.

  “I am fine, Macy. Rest. I will be here.”

  She hummed. Her hand relaxed, and her breathing slowed.

  He unwound her hair from his claw and held her, leaning his face close to take in her scent. After so many years of wandering, he’d finally found his place — not the Facility, but Macy. Anywhere she went would be his home.

  And he wouldn’t remain idle while she was forced to dwell in this place.

  “I love you, too, Macy,” he whispered.

  Chapter 18

  The days passed slowly for Macy. At first, she’d been content to linger in the housing area, using her time to search the accessible rooms. Apart from a few personal items scattered here and there — the most exciting of which was another music player — the rooms were identical. Even the clothes were the same — the sizes varied, but the cuts, colors, and fabrics were repeated in every chamber.

  She’d attempted to enter the locked rooms, but every PIN she punched in was denied, and Jax hadn’t been wrong about the doors — they weren’t going to budge.

  Jax forbid her from venturing out of the cabin area on her own, and Macy had been too wary to disobey. Though the elder kraken had declared Macy one of them, she couldn’t forget the animosity they’d directed at her. The best way to avoid trouble was to stay out of sight.

  By the sixth day, their new home felt like a prison.

  It was clearly worse for Jax. He stayed with her for hours every day, making love and idle conversation, but he’d grown increasingly withdrawn as time passed. He’d leave for long stretches, and Macy understood why.

  Wanderer.

  In the cave, they’d been free. Jax could take her out whenever either of them wanted to go, could show her places he’d discovered and see them anew through her eyes. The world had been open to them. All that had been taken away from him.

  It had been her choice — against Jax’s wishes — to come here. She knew he was unhappy, resentful of his people, but how much blame did he place on her? If she’d listened to him, if she’d just agreed to return to the cave, how different would things be now?

  Her recent illness hadn’t helped ease his nerves. For the last several days, she’d woken up feeling nauseous, and vomited two or three times in a morning. During those periods, she’d been unable to keep food down. Even the slightest whiff of fish sent her running to the toilet. By midday — which she only determined thanks to the clock in her room — her stomach would settle, and she’d feel fine.

  She played it off as nothing; Jax was already out of sorts, and she didn’t want to add to his distress. But she couldn’t assuage her concern. At first, she thought it was the food they’d gathered in the jungle, but she’d consumed plenty of it in the cave without getting sick, and had eaten the same vegetation while she lived in The Watch.

  Macy’s mind shifted to the building next. What if there was a problem with the air filtration system? Perhaps it didn’t affect the kraken because their respiration was so different, or simply because they were a hardier species. Humans hadn’t lived here for so long that there was no way to be sure it was still a safe environment — at least not before it was too late.

  But the nausea only struck during the morning. If the air was somehow contaminated, wouldn’t she be sick all the time?

  By the fifteenth day, she’d had enough. She wasn’t going to allow fear to prevent her from making the most of her situation.

  Jax was gone again; his absences had grown longer and longer, and though he always returned by the evening, she missed him terribly during the day. It felt like they were drifting apart. A seed of doubt had taken root inside her, twisting its way through her being — one day, he might not return at all. Their lovemaking was as intense as ever, and her connection to him during those times was soul-deep, but when they finished, she felt the rift tear open again, threatening to swallow her up.

  Today, she refused to sit and wait.

  Macy strapped on the knife and gun Jax had given her for protection — each had a thigh holster, and though she was unused to wearing weapons, they were comfortable enough — and exited the cabin area. She wandered the corridors barefoot, peering into darkened rooms here and there. She neither saw nor heard any kraken.

  When she spotted the sign indicating the pool, she stopped and stared down the hallway at the closed door. Jax had mentioned Arkon often spent time there. She didn’t know if Arkon accompanied Jax to wherever it was he was going every day, but it couldn’t hurt to check. She needed a friendly face.

  She approached the door, pressed the button beside it, and entered when it slid open. The overwhelming stench of chemicals assaulted her immediately. Her stomach churned, and she doubled over.

  The sound of the door closing behind her was whisper-soft.

  “Are you all right, Macy?”

  Macy jumped, lifting her eyes to Arkon. He was at the edge of the pool, frowning at her.

  She took two deep, slow breaths through her mouth — not that it helped much with the smell — and nodded. “I’m fine. I just…need a moment. The smell in here is…”

  “It can be overpowering when one is unused to it.” As though in response to his own words, his nostrils flared. “But I think you will grow used to it in time.”

  Macy didn’t share his confidence.

  She stepped farther into the room, moving her gaze along the lockers lining the far wall, over the dormant pieces of equipment and machinery scattered around the floor, and finally to the large, rectangular pool in the center. The water within was totally clear; if it weren’t for the light reflecting on its surface, she might not have known it was there at all.

  As she neared the pool, she realized there was something on the bottom. She gasped when it came into full view. The floor was covered with countless small stones, arranged in swathes of color to create intricate, swirling patterns.

  “Did you make this?” Macy asked, looking at Arkon. His arms were folded over his chest, fingertips drumming his bicep. “I’m sorry. If I’m…interrupting, or intruding, I can go.”

  “Not at all. I’ve refined the patterns to my satisfaction — if only barely — but it’s still missing the centerpiece.” When he turned his head to her and smiled, the warmth of his expression eased the tension. “Jax was supposed to bring back a glowing stone, but he’s been understandably distracted for
the last few weeks.”

  She returned her attention to the design. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thank you for saying so.”

  “I’d guess you don’t hear it often enough. Our people are alike in that way. Most of them like to look at art, but think making it is a waste of time when you could be focusing on something more practical instead.”

  “Jax tells me, in his way, and though he claims not to understand it or have any capacity for it…his insights are often enlightening. As for it being a waste of time…I find that a short-sighted notion.”

  “Aymee said something very similar to that.” Macy turned her head and studied Arkon. “I think she would love to know you.”

  “The more I hear of this Aymee, the more I would love to know her.” He met Macy’s gaze, and his smile faltered. “How have you been, Macy? Though it could have gone worse, the gathering didn’t end how I’d hoped. What faith I had in my kind was, apparently, misplaced.”

  “I…don’t blame them. They acted in fear, and even knowing as little as I do about the history between our peoples, I think the kraken were within their rights here.” She sat down on the edge of the pool, rolled up the legs of her pants, and dipped her feet in. It was colder than she’d expected. “I’m pretty sure humans would’ve reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.”

  “There are always more extreme elements, it would seem, who make up for their lack of numbers through sheer aggression. Kronus and his group do not speak for all of us, no more than Dracchus, Jax, or Ector do.” Arkon eased himself down beside her; his position looked awkward, with his tentacles folded beneath him to hang into the water, but he made no indication of discomfort. “You didn’t answer my question, though. How are you?”

  “I’m getting by, one day at a time.” She searched his eyes; their violet hue reminded her of the sky immediately after sunset. Compared to Jax and Dracchus, Arkon was lean, his face narrower and more refined, but he seemed no less powerful. “You’ve been Jax’s friend for a long time. How often does he normally remain here between his wanderings?”

  Arkon lifted his hands, palms up, and shrugged. “Days, sometimes. This is the longest I recall him being here in many years… He’s out of sorts. Restless. Not his usual self…”

  Macy’s eyes stung with tears, and she turned her face away. “I trapped him here.”

  “You cannot blame yourself for this, Macy. I know without a doubt that Jax does not.”

  “How can you be sure?” she asked, wiping the back of her fingers across her cheeks. “He is rarely here.”

  “I have known Jax for most of my life. And the way he looks at you… He blames the others. Dracchus, yes, but the rest even more so. For him, being caged is worse than death, and they caged his mate. He won’t easily forgive any of them for it. Kronus is lucky you managed to calm Jax down.”

  Macy managed a small smile. “How can I help him?”

  The tips of Arkon’s tentacles flicked slowly from side to side, gently splashing. “Patience. Though I won’t deny that he could benefit from being slapped around a bit, too.”

  She laughed; it felt surprisingly good. “He doesn’t like that very much. I’ve done it a couple times.”

  He grinned. “Honestly, Macy… I think he’s so caught up in what has been lost, that he’s losing sight of what he has.”

  “Thank you, Arkon.” She settled a hand over his. It was clear why Jax considered him his closest friend; of all the kraken — Jax included — Arkon had been the kindest, the most accepting.

  “It is no trouble.” Though his movement was subtle, she noticed his gaze drop, and he furrowed his brow. He lifted his arm to get a closer look at her hand. “The similarities are as pronounced as the differences…”

  “They are.” Macy allowed him his inspection and lowered her hand to her lap when he was done. She kicked her feet through the water. “Jax told me you often speak with the computer?”

  “As dull as it typically is, yes, I do.”

  “Are you able to access it?”

  “In what capacity? There are vocal commands and interactions that seem to function normally, but I know I’ve uncovered only a fraction of the information it must hold. I believe access beyond that may require use of the screens, but the kraken never learned to read, and the Computer itself hasn’t been helpful in that regard.”

  “I could teach you.”

  Arkon’s face brightened; his smile returned, and his eyes sparkled. “I will hold you to your word on that, Macy.”

  She’d smiled more in this short time with him than she had in the last week. “You have my word, Arkon.”

  “Was there something specific you wanted from the computer?”

  “I guess…everything. There must be a wealth of information here. Even…even what they did to your people. How they created you, and why.”

  “What few answers we have for those questions are unsatisfactory and incomplete, at best.” He stared down at the little ripples on the surface of the pool. “If I bring you to a room with working screens, do you think you could find that information?”

  “I’ll try my best.”

  Arkon nodded and pushed himself up, water sloshing with the sudden movement of his tentacles. “Let’s go, then.”

  “Really?” Macy pulled her feet out of the pool and rolled down her pant legs. “You can take me now?”

  “I do not think either of us has anything more pressing to attend at the moment,” he said with a smirk.

  Macy chuckled as she stood up. “I’m quite tired of staring at the walls.”

  “Perhaps we’ll figure out how to paint them, at some point. One matter at a time, though.” Arkon moved toward the door; at its core, his dragging gait was similar to the way Jax moved on land, but Arkon was somehow more graceful.

  She followed him out of the pool room. “Arkon?”

  He slowed and twisted to look at her over his shoulder. “Hmm?”

  Catching up to him, she glanced down at her hands. “I know we’ve only just met, but you are so easy to talk to you and…and I would like it if I could call you my friend.”

  “Of course, Macy.” He dipped his head. “I have never had a female friend…it is not the way of our people. But I can now boast that my number of friends has doubled.”

  Something inside her chest warmed. She missed Aymee, and Jax’s frequent absence had left her lonelier than she’d been since their first few days together. Arkon’s friendship was a balm for the wounds her heart had suffered.

  “The others don’t deserve you, Arkon.”

  Water still dripped from Jax as he entered the area Macy called the Cabins. He’d waited an eternity for the water to drain from the entry chamber and had considered trying to force the interior door more than once. Macy had been sick, as of late, and leaving her alone made him anxious.

  He wished he didn’t have to.

  The door to their den was open, as it usually was when they were awake and not otherwise engaged. He entered; Macy wasn’t on the bed, at the table, or in the shower. He called her name and returned to the hallway, calling again.

  There was no answer, no sign of movement.

  He hurried through the nearby corridors, shouting for her, checking every open room. His hearts pounded, their pace increasing with each empty chamber.

  What if she had wandered off and fallen ill? What if another kraken had come, knowing Jax was gone, and taken her?

  The surface of Jax’s skin prickled like it was on fire, but he was cold inside.

  He left the cabin area, pulling himself through the tunnel with arms and tentacles, and reentered the main building. All was silent save for the gentle hum of the Facility itself. His calls echoed off the walls.

  Along the way, he leaned into every room, both hoping and fearing that he would find her in one.

  She was nowhere.

  He found nothing to indicate the recent passage of other kraken, but he’d been out for a long while; any such trails might have dr
ied up already.

  “Macy!” he shouted as he reached the intersection of two main corridors.

  “Was that Jax?” Macy’s voice was unmistakable, though it was distorted by distance.

  He rushed toward it, finally stopping in the doorway of a large room full of screens and controls. Macy and Arkon both looked at Jax from their place at the central console.

  “You’re back!” she exclaimed.

  Relief rushed through him, a soothing tide washing over the beach. “You’re all right.” The receding tide left anger in its wake. “Why are you here? You shouldn’t wander far from our den; it is not safe.”

  She frowned. “I needed to get out of there for a little while.”

  “What if Kronus had come across you, alone in the hall? What if you had fallen ill in some room that is rarely visited, and I couldn’t find you?” His hearts hadn’t slowed, and the heat on his skin only intensified.

  “I feel fine, Jax. I was with Arkon.”

  Jax’s gaze flicked briefly to Arkon, whose expression was unreadable. “You will not leave the cabins again,” he growled, moving into the room.

  “What?” For a moment, her eyes were wide, and her lips parted in shock. Then she straightened, her body going rigid. She glared at him. “I am not an object, Jax! You can’t keep me like I’m some trophy you pulled out of the ocean. I’d think you of all people would understand that!”

  He clenched his jaw; her words struck to his core, twisted inside him like a blade. His voice nearly failed. “I need you safe.”

  Jax was no better than the rest of them; he was pushing her into a smaller cage, even though he sought to free her from the one his people had created.

  The anger on her face slowly faded. She held his gaze and sighed. “I know, Jax. I know. But I can’t stay in there all day, every day. I need—” her eyes drifted to Arkon, “—someone to talk to.”

  “You can talk to me, Macy,” Jax said.

  “You haven’t been here!”

 

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