Anuata nodded. “Then I will help you. But why go over the wall when there is a gate?” She pointed. “A gate on land is much like a gate under water, isn’t it?”
“That’s true, but the people inside probably have guns. It could be dangerous.”
“More dangerous than the Lemorian warriors we faced in the catacombs?”
“They could be.”
“Anuata is not afraid. Is Ree afraid?” The Amazon laughed. “You look more like a human than me. Knock on the gate and see what happens when it opens.”
“Just like that? Walk up to the door and knock?”
“Sometimes the straight way is better than the roundabout.” She looked Ree up and down. “Can you do illusion? So that you don’t look like a woman in armor?”
“I can try,” Ree answered. She’d done it on the factory ship, hadn’t she? What they’d do once they got inside, she didn’t know, but the way her ribs hurt, Anuata’s suggestion sounded better and better.
The two crossed the street and approached the compound. Ree watched for cameras, but saw none. When they reached the gate, Anuata flattened herself against the wall, keeping out of sight. Ree pushed a button and a loud buzzer rang.
Nothing.
“Try again,” Anuata urged.
Ree hit the button a second and then a third time.
“Who’s there?” shouted an angry male voice. “Go away!”
Ree rang the bell again. This time she heard a door bang open and quick, heavy footsteps.
A man cursed and threw open the gate. “What do you—” he began, but got no further before Anuata seized him by the throat, dragged him through the doorway, and slammed him back against the block wall. His head hit the hard surface and he slumped forward. The gun in his hand slipped into a puddle of water, and Anuata snatched it up. It had happened so fast that Ree could hardly believe what she’d seen.
“You take it,” Anuata said, shoving the Glock into Ree’s hand. “You want I should break his neck?”
Sweat broke out on Ree’s forehead as she tucked the gun into her belt. She felt lightheaded from the pain, but she wasn’t about to wimp out now. “No, drag him inside. We don’t want any good Samaritans driving past, seeing him, and calling the police. See if you can find something to tie him up with.”
“Easier to kill him.”
“You heard what Alex said. No killing unless we have to.”
“You could tell him that we had to. He likes you. He wouldn’t be angry if you told him—”
“Just tie him up, and gag him as well. We don’t want him yelling for help.”
As they entered the inner courtyard, a dog charged around the corner of the house and ran at them barking. Anuata threw the man to the ground, drew her sword, crouched and growled back at the animal. So fierce and frightening was the Lemorian’s war-cry that the big mongrel stopped short, cowered down, and began to whine pitifully. “Like sharks,” Anuata confided. “You must show them who is master.”
A twenty-year-old convertible stood outside the garage, top down. “Wait,” Ree said. She opened the driver’s door, found the release, and popped the trunk. “Put him in there,” she ordered Anuata.
“Dog or human?”
Ree stared at Anuata, and then the woman laughed, threw the still unconscious man over her shoulder and carried him to the car. She dumped him into the trunk and slammed it shut. “Better than tying,” she said. “In the box, no one will hear him.”
Ree pushed open the front door.
From somewhere inside, a woman’s high voice called, “Phirun?”
Ree and Anuata rushed inside just as the Polynesian woman came from the hall. “Phirun?” She caught sight of Anuata, screamed, and fled into a back room and slammed the door. They could hear the sound of a lock click and then the woman shrieking.
“Am I so ugly?” Anuata asked.
Ree glanced over her shoulder at her. “Not ugly, just different.”
Anuata smiled and then broke into a grin. “Good. Different is good.”
Systematically, Ree began searching the house. In the kitchen, they found a bag of marijuana and what appeared to be cocaine on the counter. Two open bottles of beer stood on the table. Anuata eyed them suspiciously. “Is to drink?” she asked.
“Yes, but you wouldn’t like it,” Ree lied. She didn’t know what effect alcohol or drugs would have on her associate and didn’t care to find out. They passed through what was evidently a living room with a big screen TV blaring an eighties comedy and continued to inspect each room. The woman didn’t come out or stop shrieking for them to go away.
As Ree pushed open the door to the second bedroom and switched on the light, she knew what had driven her to check out the house. Crouched in the center of the bed, holding on to one another and sobbing, were four of the children she’d discovered on the factory ship.
CHAPTER 24
F
our children. Ree leaned against the doorframe and pressed her hand to her midsection. There had been five kids before. Where was the boy with the face of a frightened angel? She couldn’t be wrong about that. She’d never forget his face. “Where is the little boy?” she demanded, using Tagalog, the language that had gotten her a response from the girl with the almond-shaped eyes before.
“Don’t take Remi. Please!” the girl cried. “Take me instead. I’ll be good.”
Two of the other girls began to weep, but the fourth only stared past Ree at Anuata. When Ree had last seen them in the ship’s cabin, they’d been filthy with dirty hair and faces. They’d obviously bathed since then. The rags had been replaced with identical white men’s undershirts, but the children were just as thin and bruised, and the hollows in their cheeks and dark circles under their eyes remained. And now she noticed marks on their wrists, making her certain that someone had tied them up.
“I saw you before, on the boat,” Ree said in a softer voice. “There was a boy. Did something happen to him?”
A muffled whimper came from under the bed. Ree started to kneel down to look under it, but the grinding pain in her ribs brought tears to her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, and she motioned to Anuata.
She dragged a dresser in front of the door to block it, before advancing on the bed and crouching. She slipped a hand under, then snatched it back, and looked at the small teeth marks on one tattooed finger. “It bit me,” she said, more surprised than annoyed. “The little human bit me.” A grin split her face. “He shows courage this small man child.”
“We aren’t going to hurt you,” Ree said to the almond-eyed girl, clearly the spokeswoman for the group. “Tell ... What is his name? Remi?”
The girl nodded solemnly.
“Tell Remi that it’s safe for him to come out,” Ree said. “We only want to help you.”
The child shook her head. “The man said to get rid of us. He said we were worthless. If Remi comes out from under the bed, you’ll kill him.”
“No,” Ree insisted. “We came here to find you, to help you get away from these bad people. Is that your mother in the other room?”
The almond eyes grew as lifeless as glass. “She’s Phiron’s whore. She’s mean. She put Mayuni’s bowl of rice on the floor and made her eat it like a dog because she wouldn’t speak. Mayuni never talks, not even to us.”
“Where’s your mother? Your family?”
The girl shrugged. “She sold me when I was little.”
“Do you have a father? A grandmother? Anyone?”
“I have Pilar.” She glanced at a blue-eyed waif beside her with short brown hair. “We take care of Remi. Sometimes.”
Pilar raised a tear-stained face and looked at Ree through impossibly long lashes. “If you buy Julita, buy me, too. Please,” she whispered. “I’m a good girl. I cause no trouble.”
Ree choked back the sickness that rose in her throat. These children had been sexually abused, bought and sold like crates of pineapples or boxes of bananas. “Where did you come from? Are you Filipino?”
Almond-eyed Julita shrugged again. “Nowhere. Everywhere. It doesn’t matter. If you buy us, we will make a lot of money for you. If you kill us like the man said, you will have nothing.”
Anuata pulled the little boy from his hiding place and cradled him in her arms. “Mother of Vassu!” she swore. “He is all skin and bones. What monsters would do this to a child?” Remi had no shirt, but wore worn man’s boxers, tied at the waist, so that they fell below his knees like a skirt.
Ree felt the floor tilting under her feet. The urge to get back to the sea was overwhelming, but she didn’t know if she had the strength to walk so far. “Anuata ...” she murmured. Her voice had that far-away, tinny quality again. “I think I’m sick.”
The Lemorian glanced at her. “I can see you are. What do you want to do?”
“We can’t leave them here,” Ree said. “The woman will let Phirun out of the trunk, and then he’ll either sell them again or do worse. We have to get them to safety.”
“Arra, arra,” Anuata crooned as she rocked the terrified boy. “Anuata will not hurt you.” She brushed a lock of white-blond hair from Remi’s face. “Only tell me, Ree, where is safe? Where for these little ones has your world ever been safe?”
“I won’t abandon them.”
“Then we must take them with us.”
“Where?”
“To Atlantis.”
“But they’re human. How could they ...” Ree blinked back the waves of nausea. Black spots danced before her eyes.
How can I exist beneath the ocean? But I can. Anything is possible.
“Are we putting them in worse danger?” she tried to ask, but the words drifted away and the floor came up and hit her.
Caddoc stumbled along, trying to keep up with the guard who led him by a cord linked to the collar buckled around his neck. His eyes no longer pained him and the place where his tongue had been had healed into a ragged stump. Sightless and dumb, he had to depend on his sense of hearing for everything. Like a dolphin, he was learning to avoid swimming into solid objects by humming and feeling the sound vibrations against his scales.
He had not been beaten or tortured or locked in a cell. The clothing he wore was as fine as ever, and the food he was served was the best the palace had to offer. He sometimes wondered if he could have only one of his ravished senses back if he would choose his sight or his voice. He spent long hours considering what his best option might have been, if he’d had one. Without his eyes, he was helpless, but without his tongue, he could make no protest.
But, as ’Enakai reminded him, she had left him intact, still potent and virile, still able to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. True, he could feel, but he could not see, and he didn’t receive quite the same satisfaction when he couldn’t appreciate the gleam of her oiled skin or the way her hips swayed when she walked.
“It is time I gave my people an heir,” ’Enakai said. “It matters not who sires the babe. Perhaps you will be the lucky one. Would it please you to know that your daughter would ascend to the throne of Lemoria? How amusing that the prince who expected to be king of Atlantis would father a Lemorian queen. But, alas, you are only one of many. And those who frequent my bed know the benefits of impregnating the royal womb.”
He made no answer. To grunt or moan was beneath his dignity. And with luck, he might still be Poseidon. A man could rule without eyes, couldn’t he? And a king could write his commands and have others read them. His spies had brought him no word of his uncle’s move against the royal house of Poseidon. Perhaps the time hadn’t been right, or a messenger simply hadn’t arrived yet. He could already be the sole surviving son of his father, already be king and not know it.
And when he was king, he would send his armies against Lemoria. He would show no pity to the military and the nobility, but he would have the head of any man who laid a harsh finger on ’Enakai. He would have her brought to him in golden chains, clad in pearls and her dark curtain of hair. Then he would summon the lowest scum of his kingdom; the crosses, the mermen, and the naiads. One by one, he would command them to have their will of ’Enakai, and when they were done, if a single spark of life remained in her broken body, he would have her chopped into chum and fed to moray eels.
Let ’Enakai laugh and mock him. When he was Poseidon, when he clasped the golden trident of Atlantis in his hand, she would know who was king and who was a common whore to be used and discarded like the garbage she was. Nothing could restore his sight; his eyes had been burned away with red-hot coals, but the healers of the temple were skilled. It was more than possible that they could construct him a new tongue, so that he might speak again.
“Caddoc!” ’Enakai’s voice cut like the lash of a whip. “Between my knees. I am in need of stimulation. I hope your staff is stiffer tonight than it was the last time you came to my bed. If you fail to please me, I will send you to serve the stable boys and the waste carriers. And smile. I hate a gloomy face. You must at least pretend to be enjoying yourself.” She laughed. “What did you say, Prince Caddoc? I didn’t quite hear you?”
A guardswoman twittered.
They are here again,
Caddoc thought with a sinking heart,
gathered around the royal bed, making suggestions, making me feel like a worm on the end of a hook.
Coarse hands began to stroke his naked body, running callused fingers over his face and tugging at locks of his hair. Someone pushed him roughly to his knees and he was forced to crawl to the foot of ’Enakai’s couch.
“Hurry up,” she said. “I have the ambassadors from the Japans waiting. I would not have summoned you if this wasn’t my most fertile day. You may get lucky, Prince Caddoc, providing you still have the means to provide what I need most.”
Someone unsnapped the lead that had connected to his collar, and he found the bed covering with his right hand.
I may not feed her to the eels,
he thought.
When I am crowned high king of Atlantis, I may have her cooked and served in a pie for my coronation feast. Or better yet, he mused, I’ll have her stuffed, and roasted, and served with a starfish in her mouth.
When Ree opened her eyes, the first thing she felt was the lack of pain in her chest, and the second was the ease of which she was able to draw breath. The relief was enough to bring tears to her eyes ... that saw only vague shapes and muted colors. But it didn’t seem to matter. She sighed with pleasure. She was in the water again, safe in the sea, cradled in the warm caress of an endless tide. Nothing else mattered.
“Ree? Can you hear me?”
She sighed.
“Ree!”
Alex. It was Alex’s voice. She smiled and asked lazily, “Where am I?”
“With me. An island off the coast of Chile. Rapa Nui.”
She blinked. Chile? Hadn’t she been in Samoa? She tried to remember, but her thoughts kept slipping away. Her vision was becoming clearer. She could make out a pair of dolphins moving as gracefully as ballet dancers in the clear blue water. “How ...” It was hard to keep her thoughts and her words connected when she just wanted to experience the freedom and beauty of the schools of bright colored fish and the swaying columns of kelp. “We’re in the sea, aren’t we?”
“Yes. It’s been two weeks of your time since I carried you from American Samoa. We’ve gone from island to island, because I needed to have you on land part of the time. You can only breathe under water for a day or two at a time. We were on Rapa Nui for almost two days.”
“But this feels right to me ... to be in the ocean ... to feel the salt water against my skin.” She couldn’t organize her thoughts. It was as if her mind was packed with cotton batting. Thick clouds of haze blocked out her reasoning, parting here and there and allowing her brief glimpses of memories.
“Shh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of you. We’re going home. If anyone can cure this sickness, it is the healers of the great temple. My sister Morwena serves there. She’ll look after you.”
She wanted to touch Alex, needed to feel that he was real. She was thinking only of Alex, but another man’s name rang out. “Nick.”
“It’s Alex.”
Was that hurt she heard in his voice? “I know who you are,” she answered. “Nick’s eyes are brown.”
“I’m not him, Ree.”
She shook her head. “No, I know that, but I just remembered. The man I followed from Varenkov’s yacht. I knew him a long time ago. His name is Nick.”
“He calls himself Nigel now,” Alex said. “Are you sure it’s the same man?”
“He was my partner.”
“More than a partner, I think.” He paused and then said, “You kept repeating his name.”
“Because the bastard tried to kill me.” She tried to sit up but weakness prevented her from raising more than her head. “What’s wrong with me?”
“You’re seriously ill. Don’t try to talk. Save your strength until you’re stronger.”
“No,” she protested. “You have to understand what happened. Nick shot me point blank. His bullet struck my cuirass, but it didn’t penetrate the armor. It knocked the wind out of me, and I think I cracked a rib, but my chest feels fine now.”
Her vision was still squirrely but she didn’t want to mention that. It was more important that Alex realize that whatever she had felt for Nick—whatever twisted loyalty and guilt she’d felt for all those years—it was gone. He’d blown it away with the squeeze of a trigger. Everything she’d felt for Nick had been based on a lie, and the only solid thing remaining in her life was the man beside her. Whether he could ever forgive her for rejecting him, he had to understand what he meant to her.
“Once you returned to the sea”—Alex explained—“your ribs healed quickly. Two were broken, another cracked. But that isn’t the problem. It’s the sickness that nearly took you from me. I should have carried you back to Atlantis long ago.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I thought you were going to die, Ree. If I lost you ...”