Stolen by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 4) Page 3

  Zara stared at them both with white, pinched lips. Elan’s irritation only increased. He did not wish to antagonize Zara. She was still so unstable. It seemed as if she were barely holding onto control.

  If only she would turn to him, touch him, and accept his touch in return. Her soul light would calm and she would regain her happiness. And he, too, would reach the absolution he craved.

  “The, uh, point, if you don’t mind, is food,” Milly said awkwardly. “What can we feed Zain?”

  Elan turned to the slender female. “He eats as I do.”

  Milly looked at Zara.

  Zara glared at Elan.

  “I will eat as a human,” he said.

  “So, do you mean the fish market? Or do you mean fast food?”

  “What you eat, we will eat.”

  “Fruit? Sausage? Frosted Flakes?”

  He had no idea. “Yes.”

  Milly looked less and less reassured.

  Zara finally turned to Milly. “Get whatever you were planning for your weekly shopping trip. Just more.”

  “Are you sure? He’s only a year.”

  “If he can’t eat what you get, Elan will hunt.”

  At least she still had that much faith in Elan’s abilities. Even if she doubted his ability to raise Zain, she knew he would provide for his son.

  “I will hunt,” he confirmed.

  “Or they’ll starve,” Zara muttered, undercutting her earlier faith. She raised her voice to catch Milly. “And diapers!”

  “Got it!” Her voice floated from the kitchen. The back door opened and closed, and it was quiet in the house.

  Zara frowned and turned away.

  Doubts and irritations still prickled his chest. He followed after her. “Diapers? What are these?”

  “Absorbent cloth. Like the shorts you’re wearing, only for babies.”

  “He has never worn such things under the water.”

  “We’re above water now.”

  “But your son is mer.” He followed her across the living room.

  She focused too much on judging mer traditions. Some traditions, like the ancient covenant, were bad. Others were good and deserved defense.

  “Forcing on human clothing when he had not shifted could unnaturally constrain Zain and cause injury.”

  She stopped and turned to face him. Her expression was non-negotiable. “Diapers will not ‘cause injury.’ He’s above the water now, Elan. You don’t know everything that you think you do.”

  “I know what Zain needs.”

  She cocked a brow and crossed her arms over her chest in a fighting stance. “And I don’t?”

  “I have raised him longer.”

  Sharpness slashed her expression like a knife. “Whose fault is that?”

  Curse his words. But he had more knowledge of Zain’s upbringing. “Not all our traditions are bad, Zara. Withhold your judgment.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Same to you.”

  “I am his father. I know this ‘diaper’ is unnecessary.”

  A trickle of warm-body-temperature liquid soaked into Elan’s shirt, shorts, and trickled down his thigh to stain the smooth floor. Zain emptied his small bladder as though intent on proving Elan to be a fool.

  Zara’s eyes remained narrowed but her lips suspiciously twitched. “You were saying?”

  “He has released his liquid.” Elan couldn’t contain his surprise. Mer on land were always much older, well past the age when they gained control over their bodily functions. “Inside your house.”

  “Babies often do. That’s what diapers are for.” But her tone was completely different from moments ago.

  “You knew he would do this?”

  “Of course I did.” Her lips quirked to the side as though she was suppressing a told-you-so smile. “Don’t doubt me, Elan. I might not have your experience yet, but I do have something you’ll never possess.”

  A curl of dread rose in the pit of his belly. “That is?”

  “Maternal instincts.”

  “What are those?”

  Her mouth opened and closed. Her anger drained and a familiar kindness softened her features.

  He craved her kindness. But he did not trust its sudden appearance. “Why does my question make you sad?”

  “No reason.” But she actually reached out, on her own, and cupped his cheek. “There’s a hose on the patio. Go outside and clean up.”

  “You will join us?”

  “In a moment.”

  He hesitated. Something was wrong. He didn’t understand this new feeling.

  She dropped her hand and urged him out. “I’m not going anywhere.” But her tone flickered. She turned away before he could press her on her unspoken words. For now.

  Chapter Four

  While a dripping Elan carried their son out to the back patio to clean up and dry off, Zara got out the cleaning supplies and scrubbed the living room tile.

  She suddenly realized she was humming. She paused.

  What was this feeling?

  Not irritation. Probably other people would be irritated, but she had missed the first year of Zain’s life and he feared her like any stranger. Taking this small action to care for him felt … how did it feel? Like a first step?

  Then, maybe she felt happy. It had been so long since she’d felt anything, and now the feelings surged in like unsettling ghosts that turned out to be long-lost relatives. It was hard to identify them.

  The look on Elan’s face had been priceless.

  She smothered her smile and sat back on her heels.

  Out the living room doorway, she could see his chiseled, water-dappled, aquamarine-swirled torso. He leaned against the back wall, made of waist-high piled stones, and stared through junipers at the startling blue sea. His brow firmed into a pensive frown.

  His massive aquamarine-swirled cock was lax, but she knew its pleasures.

  She jerked her gaze from his manhood to his face.

  He’d had the same expression when she’d first met him.

  Like a hero, he’d swept in and saved her and Milly from their worst terror. And, instead of falling for her more attractive sister, Elan had focused his heart-stealing attention on plain, chunky Zara. His pure soul had felt so familiar; he’d eroded her natural caution. Combined with cocky rightness, unimpeachable justice, and gentle tenderness-mixed-with-heat, his plea to become his bride had tangled around her heart and tugged.

  Just a few minutes ago, his unguarded question had tugged her heart again.

  What are maternal instincts?

  That question displayed both the brokenness of the mer culture and the reason Elan had so easily captured her heart the first time. Zara had wanted to save and heal his race — and him.

  And now he’d come to her, a year later, but still just as broken. She needed to—

  Wait.

  She slapped the soapy rag into the bucket.

  Forget it.

  She was not falling for him again. Forget every feminine body part cried out as if only an hour had passed since they were last together. Zara would not allow herself to be betrayed. Not by Elan and not by her own heart.

  She stowed the cleaning supplies, pulled out a blue and white sailor suit onesie for Zain, and prepared a tray of refreshments for her guests.

  Temporary guests.

  Outside, Zain lay on his belly on shaded terracotta tile beneath the sheltering limbs of a young juniper. He stretched his rounded, dimpled limbs and reached for bright yellow wildflower petals, his legs kicking the air as though he intended to swim across the tile.

  Elan stood a few feet away at the wall. In nude profile, his sculpted body — powerful shoulders, narrow torso, grippable buttocks, and rippling limbs — were hard and dreamy and still, even after a year, all hers.

  No, not hers!

  She turned away from the mouth-watering sight and set her wooden tray on the homey glass table. She poured creamy, peach-colored passion fruit juice into a plastic sippy cup, debated watering it dow
n, and then handed the whole calorie-rich blue cup to Zain.

  Zain pushed away from her in refusal.

  She sucked in a breath. Give him time. She repeated that as she poured a tall glass for Elan, then spread out a tub of soft cheese, crunchy crackers, and slices of fresh island bananas.

  He thanked her absently as he studied the ocean. She recognized his stance. Intense concentration meant he was assessing dangers.

  Zara set her drink untouched on the small table and sat in one of the white-washed wooden patio chair. “You’re expecting a fight.”

  He flicked to her. “I prepare for any possibility.”

  A weasely answer. And unlike him. She studied him for the truth.

  The dark shadows under his eyes lengthened, and he angled away.

  She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her scarred knees. “I see. Does that ‘possibility’ include lying to my face?”

  “I do not lie to you, Zara.”

  “Then what are some of the possibilities? You must have approval to come here because I know you’d never disobey your king.”

  He evaded her, silent, and resumed his intent stare.

  Wait.

  “You disobeyed your king?” Zara stood. “You didn’t convince him? Or the elders? Anybody?”

  His teeth clicked together, and he squinted at her from under his brows.

  “What happened to your great lectures about the ‘wisdom’ of your elders? Or your belief that even if one abuses you, you should still respect them?”

  He turned back to the ocean.

  “Did you really rebel?” Zara confronted the male who had not only enforced his city’s laws; he had lived them in his bones. At his prolonged silence, she licked her lips. “Is it my fault?”

  “No.”

  Okay, an answer. She put a hand on her hip. “Are you sure? You were supposed to convince your elders and your king to let me stay.”

  “That was not possible.”

  “Why not?”

  “There was no opportunity for such a dialogue.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He gaze flickered. “They changed and then I changed. Words … were not possible.”

  Another weasely answer. Unusual for Elan, who was so honest. But then again, she’d never dreamed he’d break his laws. “So you are expecting trouble. Not just from ‘someone’. From your own people.”

  “The elders will not allow their prize warriors to defect. Not in such a public way. And certainly not with their city’s young fry.”

  “The human world knows about mermen now.”

  “Our elders deny the change.”

  Zara felt … how? Standing upright made her feel as though there was too much distance between her and the terracotta. Even the sunlight weighed on her shoulders. What was this feeling?

  She sat abruptly in the wooden chair. “When are you expecting them?”

  “I do not know. Soon.”

  She watched Zain wiggle under the shade.

  The truth hurt. That feeling she identified.

  Not only did Elan come to her in defiance of his laws, but he expected their family to be ripped apart. He prepared for it.

  A scream echoed in her memories. Zain sobbing, Elan streaming blood, the tight bonds rendering her powerless—

  “Why did you come here?” she demanded.

  He turned to her fully. “Why?”

  “Yes!”

  “To be with you. And reunite you with your son.”

  “Why?”

  “Can we not…” Raw emotion fought for a place on his tortured face. “Can we not be a family?”

  She tightened her grip on herself. Her tongue almost snapped like glass. “I asked myself that for a year.”

  “And then?” He sniped at her with uncharacteristic bitterness. “You became accustomed to the air world, and no longer cared for your husband and child?”

  “How dare you?” she hissed.

  He set his jaw.

  “That’s a fable you tell yourself to justify throwing away the mothers you entrapped and fooled.”

  “I do not—”

  “Your people do. And I’m dumped, alone, all over again. So.” She rose to her feet and paced the small terracotta plot. Grasses shook harshly in the breeze as dark-bottomed clouds tumbled across the formerly spotless blue sky. “There’s no substance in this dream.”

  He crossed his arms. “You once wished to live together.”

  “You once promised to protect me.”

  His eyes flashed, and he tightened his grip on his elbows.

  She didn’t want to hurt him. That wasn’t her desire.

  “I think we’re both aware of reality,” she said. “Your entire race is trying to force us apart.”

  “Not all—”

  “Don’t bring wishful thinking into this.” She held up her hand. “This is cruel. Dangling Zain in front of me knowing he’s going to be ripped away.”

  “No.” Elan crossed the distance between them and tugged her into his arms. Again. “This will not happen.”

  “They’ll come. Your city’s thugs. There’s nothing I can do.”

  “There is much you can do.” He stroked her hair, cupped her cheek. Sincerity burned bright in his eyes. “You have a power, Zara. You can fight back.”

  “It’s the same as before.”

  “It is different,” he insisted. “We are safe, Zara. Warriors will not come onto the land.”

  …they wouldn’t come onto the land?

  Of course they wouldn’t! Coming onto land was a violation of their ancient covenant the same way exposing their existence was a violation. Warriors only visited land once — to collect their sacred brides.

  As long as she kept Zain on the land, he was safe. She was safe. They were all safe.

  “There is more.” Elan stroked her cheek. “Do you remember my former kinsman, Kadir, speaking of the ancient mermaid queens? They died out after the great catastrophe, which is why mermen must approach humans to continue our race. We have discovered brides who remain underwater, as you wished to, can develop an unusual power.”

  Zara ignored him.

  In her dreams, she’d run away with Zain a thousand times. Stolen into Dragao Azul, grabbed Zain, and run. Elan had done the difficult part. Now it was up to her to finish the escape.

  He needed an emergency passport. Once they flew home to California, they could move to a landlocked state, change names and identities, and disappear.

  This was her opportunity.

  She reached into her pocket to check the time and — oh. No cell phone. Her brain really had traveled back to the past. Her cell contract had elapsed while she’d been undersea, and after returning, she’d been too numb to do more than exist.

  She’d borrow Milly’s. Call the American Embassy, find out if Zain could skip Portuguese Border and Immigration because he was her son, book flights.

  As long as he remained near the beach — and everywhere on the Azores was less than a mile from a long stretch of volcanic sand — he’d be at risk.

  Elan gripped her shoulders. “Zara? Are you listening? You drank the elixir and transformed.”

  “Barely.” Today was a weekday so the embassies should have later hours. “I could breathe and see and speak underwater.”

  “You can also make fins.”

  She snapped back to him. “That never happened.”

  “You must try.” He stroked her cheek with his wide, warm thumb. “Fins are the first step in claiming your power. We will go into the ocean to practice.”

  That was crazy talk. She shook her head.

  “Believe.” Elan’s gaze burned into her. “Your destiny is not merely to be a sacred bride. To protect our family, you must embrace your true power. You must become a mermaid queen.”

  Chapter Five

  Mermaid queen.

  It sounded like another fairy tale. The kind Milly made up when they were kids. Growing up without TV, they’d spent hours imagining what other
kids were doing, and created stories to pretend they didn’t miss any entertainment.

  “You have the power to shatter the sharpest dagger and melt the longest trident,” he promised. “No warrior will stand against you.”

  And also, it sounded like more wishful thinking. Which was the most dangerous type of lie.

  She shoved Elan back, tearing free of his arms. “You’re lying.”

  “I do not lie. I have seen this power with my own eyes.”

  “You saw ordinary women get superpowers? Just like that?” She snapped her fingers.

  “Make your fins and embrace your passions. Power will emerge in a shining light.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  He dropped silent.

  So, then, no. He hadn’t really seen ordinary women get supernatural powers in a snap.

  She was not special. She did not get magical powers just from wishing it. That did not happen in the real world. Thinking otherwise was a waste of everyone’s time. And believing in wishes risked more than her heart. Elan’s city was full of deadly warriors. Underestimating them could cost lives.

  Milly’s car engine growled around the front of the house.

  He started toward her again. “Zara, believe—”

  “No.” She put both hands over her ears to keep his slippery-sweet wishes out.

  “Come into the ocean. You will feel the truth in the water.”

  “Absolutely no.”

  His aquamarine-flecked gaze burned. “I will convince you.”

  “You’re dreaming. Stay here.” Zara stormed away, into the living room.

  Milly draped the bags over the dining table chairs. “Whew! Here are the clothes. I think I saw everything out back. I mean, everyone.”

  “Sorry. We had an accident right after you left.” Zara unpacked the box of diapers and inspected the shirts for Elan.

  Milly hooked a mammoth bunch of sweet island bananas in the usual spot beside the cupboards and put away her cereal. Then, she folded the bag. So, she’d only bought bananas?

  Zara paused. “Is that dinner?”

  “Crazy story.” Milly filled their hot water kettle and clicked it to boil. “I was standing in the middle of the grocery store aisle, feeling completely lost, and then I ran into Vaw Vaw! She’s cooking for us tonight.”