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Saved by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 9)

Page 4

by Starla Night


  Mm. Teeth.

  The light changed, and they crossed with the crowd.

  “You are not afraid,” he commented.

  “About worse? Well, no. It doesn’t really affect me.”

  His lips flattened as if she had confirmed some prejudice.

  “What?” she pushed.

  “Brides rarely think of defense.”

  “Beneath the water? Well, yeah, because we’ve never lived there. Just like nobody knows how to ride the subway at birth.”

  Hazel led him off the sidewalk and into the aperture of the restaurant, texting her friend they’d arrived.

  Pia rushed out and hugged her. Her brown dreadlocks, secured in a Moroccan scarf, smushed Hazel’s cheek, and her cute tortoiseshell glasses slid down her nose. “You made it. I saw the delay. And on today, of all days.”

  “I know.” Hazel squeezed her friend and introduced Lotar. “Did you bring the jacket?”

  “I brought it.” Pia looked up at Lotar and waved with a cheery grin. “The theater just did The Thick Blue Line. I had to fit a whole chorus line with leotards and Kevlar.”

  “Leotards and Kevlar?” Yoshi strode up behind them with his usual thousand-watt grin. Quiet Owen trailed behind. “That’s it! That’s my new band name.”

  “What?” Pia hugged the two men. “You’re going to start a band? Do either of you even play an instrument?”

  Owen, who worked a steady, boring adult job in insurance, shook his head with a blushing smile.

  “That hasn’t stopped most bands.” Yoshi returned Hazel’s hug with one arm. His Bluetooth stayed in his ear, and he wore khakis with a polo shirt. “Think of the IP potential.”

  Inside, Pia stopped at the hostess station and handed Lotar the Kevlar. He was careful to grip the fabric so he didn’t touch Pia’s fingers.

  “This is a bulletproof vest.” Hazel grabbed one side of the vest and helped Lotar shoulder it. Despite a can’s worth of Febreze, it definitely smelled like a men’s chorus line under hot lights. “It offers some protection from chest shots and air horns.”

  “Air horns?” Pia repeated and gestured at her ears.

  “The sound vibrations hit a merman in the chest. It makes them pass out.”

  Over the shirt, Hazel’s fingers skimmed his pectorals.

  They were hard as rock. He had zero body fat and infinite muscle, and all she wanted to do was slip her fingers beneath the mostly dry T-shirt fabric and squeeze.

  Mm.

  His eyes fixed on her as though he were reading her thoughts. His nostrils flared. A shark scenting not her blood but her arousal.

  But still he said nothing.

  They followed the hostess through the dinner rush to the table where Erin and Charisma were already sipping cocktails.

  Erin had traded a lucrative office career for the massive diamond glinting on her ring finger. Her Coach purse, which sometimes doubled as a diaper bag, hung from the back of her chair.

  Charisma was a fashion editor at an international magazine. She wore new designer slacks and a scarf top that had probably debuted on a runway last week.

  They all traded greetings and took seats.

  Erin waved at Lotar. “Welcome to the Young Entrepreneurs Alumni Meetup.”

  “Where we’re no longer young nor entrepreneurs,” Yoshi quipped.

  The group laughed.

  Their server arrived, and Hazel helped Lotar put in their orders.

  “You trust these humans?” he murmured while her friends sipped ice waters and cocktails.

  “I do.” She didn’t bother to keep quiet, and the others listened in. “Way before mermen emerged from the oceans, we all came to New York as finalists in a competition to pitch our business ideas.”

  “Think Shark Tank for high school kids,” Yoshi said.

  “And even though most of us went into other careers, we stayed in touch.”

  “Hazel kept us in touch,” Erin said.

  Owen asked Pia about her dance troupe audition, but the performance schedule had conflicted with her boyfriend’s—who was currently playing the guitar and singing here at this restaurant—so she’d dropped out. “And I got asked to work with top costumers next season. I couldn’t say no.”

  Everyone murmured sympathetically.

  Their appetizers arrived.

  Hazel dug into a party platter of tangy hummus, spicy baba ghanoush, sweet amba, and spicy schug with toasted pita squares.

  She teased Pia. “It sucks when you’re too successful and everyone wants to hire you.”

  Pia tossed a sweet potato fry at her. “You’re one to talk! Miss ‘I turned down a promotion and quit my job to become a businesswoman.’ Of course, if I had your guts, I’d already be in The Nutcracker.”

  “I haven’t actually quit my job yet.”

  “Oh, no? Why not?”

  “I was delayed this morning because I had to kick a guy out of my apartment, and I was delayed this afternoon by, well, everything.”

  “You had to kick someone out?”

  “He didn’t respect my rules, so, yeah.”

  Yoshi tilted his craft brew at her. “Don’t let strangers crash for free. You’ve got to raise capital.”

  “He wasn’t a stranger. He was a friend of my brother.”

  “Charge ’em,” Yoshi said.

  “Your room is so cute,” Pia said.

  “Make your assets work for you,” Yoshi said.

  “Subletting a studio isn’t making an asset work for me,” Hazel protested. “It’s illegal.”

  Yoshi rolled his eyes.

  “Anyway, most who’ve crashed were genuine. The instant they’re not?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “Out they go.”

  Lotar’s gaze switched from roving the restaurant to focusing on her.

  Evaluating her.

  And she liked it.

  She liked it very much.

  Erin tapped her index finger on her wrist. “Oh, Hazel. I’ve asked around if anyone is interested in going into a Pet Personal Assistant business with you.”

  “What? I thought you already had a business partner,” Pia said.

  “She went back to school,” Hazel said.

  “School? Wasn’t that what happened to the woman who was going to help you launch an Iceland Dreams subscription box?”

  “No, she went back to teaching.”

  “Wait, what about the one who was going to teach yoga while you ran a studio coffee bar?”

  “Oh, Wake Up and Stretch? Yeah, she moved to Tibet.”

  Erin snorted. “Where are you finding these people, Hazel? The local swap-and-sell?”

  “Everywhere.” Hazel fiddled with her napkin. “It’s okay. Everyone wants to have a business, but when I draw up the spreadsheet for how much it will cost and how long it will take to break even, they change their minds. Someday I’ll find a partner who looks at that spreadsheet and signs up.”

  “Maybe you should run a business by yourself,” Owen said quietly.

  “Yeah, but when people work well together, you get this amazing synergy. You can accomplish so much more with a partner than solo.”

  Lotar’s lips compressed. His skepticism was like atomic radiation.

  “Doubt all you like,” she told him archly. “You’re a six-foot-plus warrior, but just so you know, everyone Dannika’s matched says working together is way better. And once a bride gets her mermaid queen powers?” Hazel made her fingertips explode outward. “No comparison.”

  His timber wolf eyes lightened. The corner of his mouth quirked with amusement. “I said nothing.”

  “Yeah, and that’s exactly why you’re supposed to be here.”

  “Oh. Ohhhh.” Erin straightened and pointed her manicured finger between the two. “Did I miss something? Are you two…?”

  Lotar’s amusement faded. He looked down and rubbed his thumbs over his fingertips.

  Right.

  “No.” Hazel gripped her sweating water glass. “Lotar’s supposed to mee
t a bride who does all the talking. She’s got to convince a ton of crusty old kings to abandon their traditions, swim to Atlantis, and sing kumbaya. And yes, my boss wants me to spearhead it. I refuse to get any more involved.”

  “You can throw a party, Hazel,” Pia encouraged her.

  “I once threw a capstone graduation party that had negative attendance.”

  Erin choked. “How did that happen?”

  “It was so stupid. I accidentally planned it for the same night as graduation.”

  “Nobody told you?”

  “I printed invitations, and everyone I gave them to was like, ‘Cool. See you there.’ Somehow, they thought I was inviting them to graduation. Like, personally. And the worst thing is I planned the party with two other girls, so it was a joint graduation party.”

  “What did they do?” Pia asked.

  “Overrule me two to one on the color scheme and flavors of the sheet cake,” Hazel said.

  “True partners.” Yoshi lifted his beer in cheers.

  “So there I was, sitting with my parents, wondering ‘Where is everyone?’ when my adviser called. I was supposed to read a motivational quote, and we had ten minutes to reach the stadium which is a fifteen-minute drive away. My dad wrecked the suspension flying over speed bumps. And that’s how a graduation party ended with three less people than at the start.”

  “At least you got cake,” Owen said sensibly.

  “That was the only good thing. We ran out of cake at the real graduation after-party, so a ton of seniors headed back to my place and demolished my sodas and snacks.”

  “That sounds fun,” Owen said.

  “It sounds…” Yoshi pointed his fingers like two guns. “Like a successful graduation party.”

  “It was the second-worst stress of my life.” Hazel pressed her hands flat on the table. “You know I used to work at a call center? Cold calls trying to convince people to want something they didn’t want? That’s what the All-Cities Gyre is going to be, only underwater, and for two years.”

  The others nodded, sympathetic again.

  “Maybe you just need the right partner,” Owen said.

  Charisma sipped her wine. “Our magazine is only as good as our writers.”

  “The writers you can attract,” Hazel said. “You attract the best writers because you’re the best.”

  “Are you calling yourself unattractive?” Yoshi asked.

  They all laughed at him.

  “You could work for us,” Owen told Hazel. “It doesn’t start out great, but it’s steady.”

  “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind if nothing else comes through.”

  “Charisma’s right, though,” Erin said. “If you want to move up, shoot for the moon. Even if you miss, you’ll land among the stars.”

  “Or burn up in the atmosphere,” Yoshi quipped.

  Again, everyone laughed.

  Charisma rested her glass on its stem. “It would be fascinating to see the undersea cities. How exotic. Whoever takes that position will have quite a story to tell.”

  “A naked story,” Yoshi said. “There are no clothes underwater. Your fashion magazine will be uninterested.”

  “We might be interested.” Her gaze flickered over Lotar’s tattoos. “These lines have meanings, don’t they? We had an issue on tattoos a few years ago. Most of our stories on the mer cover your Sea Opals, their healing properties, and uses in cosmetics and jewelry. Can you shift? Right now?”

  Lotar’s gaze flickered over the restaurant. He lifted his hand and spread his fingers. The webbing between his fingers increased and tightened.

  The table oohed.

  His hand was so big.

  What would it feel like on her body?

  Palming her breasts?

  Lower…

  “And just think. You’d travel the undersea world as one of them.” Erin sighed and rotated her wedding ring. “If I didn’t seriously love my husband, I might apply to be a mermaid bride.”

  “Well, but New York is also pretty cool.” Hazel indicated their neighborhood with her fork. “You can travel the world by walking a few blocks. Chinatown, Little Italy, Little Senegal in Harlem…”

  Yoshi snorted. “Time to buy up waterfront property for the inevitable Merman Town.”

  They all chuckled.

  “You’d see all the hidden sights.” Charisma ticked them off on her slim fingers. “The wreck of the Titanic. Undersea Atlantis. The kraken.”

  Erin nodded.

  Exotic travel. Once-in-a-lifetime encounters with whales and other undersea life. Adventure after adventure.

  And all wrapped in Lotar’s highly capable arms…

  Sure, she’d thought about it.

  Hazel sighed. “I’d find some way to screw it up.”

  “Are you actually considering it? You sound a little interested.” Pia tried to comfort her. “You’d just be delivering the invitation, right? You can do that.”

  “You’d be a glorified post office,” Yoshi said. “But with fewer rabid dogs and entitled owners.”

  “You’d be really good at it,” Pia agreed.

  They were trying to encourage her.

  And if she thought about it, sure, Dannika would still have to spearhead the party. Hazel would just deliver the invitations.

  Of course, none of it mattered. The only person who was delivering anything was Lotar’s bride.

  And as for deciding on his bride, Lotar remained dead silent.

  Five

  These friends made Hazel’s soul brighten.

  And she worried about the least important part of the All-Cities Gyre. Reaching the cities was the most difficult task. Convincing anyone inside to attend? An afterthought.

  Better that no one came. There would be less risk to Atlantis.

  Was that the only reason she rejected becoming a bride?

  Hazel’s tawny gaze flickered to him. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It just matters what Lotar’s bride thinks.”

  A hot pulse of longing flooded his groin.

  You are my bride.

  She had the skills and defensive thinking to survive even the early part of the All-Cities Gyre before she came into her full power.

  He tightened his control.

  “Well, you’ll figure it out,” Pia told Hazel. “It might take a while, but you always do.”

  “And remember, only current and former employees of the post office can go postal,” Yoshi said. “But keep it to yourself. They hate that joke.”

  Everyone laughed.

  Hazel’s chest glowed. “Yeah, I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Their conversation changed to other topics. Erin’s phone rang, and she turned away from the table to speak to her husband. Her soul glowed.

  A male leaned over Pia’s shoulder and helped himself to her long crinkly sticks.

  “Hey.” Her soul light brightened in welcome. “Did you want me to order you something? Those are my fries.”

  “I’m doing you a favor.” He finished her fries, licked his fingers, and grinned. “You want to fit into your cute clothes, right?”

  Her soul dimmed. She looked away and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Yeah…”

  He dropped a kiss on her cheek, wiped his fingers, and departed.

  Owen leaned forward. “Your clothes are cute.”

  “Thanks.” Her soul brightened, and she gave him a sweet smile. A matching light kindled in Owen’s chest.

  “Hey.” From his performance place, the other male snapped his fingers and mouthed Pia’s name. “Drink?”

  “Oh, yeah.” She hurried over with a glass of bubbling liquid.

  Owen watched her leave.

  Hazel nudged him. “Hey, Owen. Lotar wants to hear about the Sons of Hercules meeting.”

  Owen straightened and wrinkled his nose. “It was juvenile. Puerile. I wouldn’t go again.”

  “Did you still have the recording?”

  “No, I erased it as soon as you said you were done. I only wish I could era
se the memory from my head.”

  “Why?” Lotar asked.

  “They weren’t nice. Not to themselves or each other. They were nasty in a self-destructive way and preyed on humanity’s worst instincts.”

  “I’m glad you were okay,” Hazel said.

  “I sat in the back and didn’t participate. They barely talked about mermen. I doubt they’ve ever seen one. They spent most of their time making minority and rape jokes, punching each other, and casually destroying property.” Owen lifted his plate and scraped the rest of his fries onto Pia’s plate. “It wasn’t a pleasant way to spend an evening.”

  So. The Sons of Hercules truly were disorganized. And yet they had caused so much pain.

  “We could probably find a video of a meeting online,” Hazel told Lotar. “I bet Owen’s not the only one that ever made a recording.”

  Owen’s brows rose. “They would post cringe videos just to make viewers uncomfortable, sure.”

  Hmm.

  When the mer gathered to discuss an enemy, they spoke of tactics. Honor. Grievances. Real strategies to defeat real enemies. Not insults to each other or play fighting.

  When a mer drew his dagger, he aimed for the heart.

  And the heart was the leader.

  Someday, Lotar would look into the eyes of his enemies and see their fear.

  But now?

  The signs of his prey faded, leaving him adrift. Directionless. Without a goal.

  Well, that was untrue.

  If he did not stay to hunt the Sons of Hercules, he should leave on the All-Cities Gyre.

  The Sons of Hercules caused pain on the surface.

  But the traditionalist All-Council crushed rebels such as the Atlantis warriors beneath the sea. Would Hazel’s party unite the warring factions? He would find out.

  “So what are you going to do now?” Hazel asked quietly. “Get started on the All-Cities Gyre? Meet up with brides after all? Sightsee?”

  “I do not need to meet with brides.”

  “Are you sure? I heard those queen powers are nice. And they might come in handy when crossing the ocean.”

  “Queen powers take time to develop.” He held up his hand and ticked off his fingers. “During the early stages, my bride will be vulnerable. She will be afraid. Other warriors might threaten her. She would be unable to defend herself.”

 

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