Aphrodite's Secret (21 page)

“Are you comfortable with the controls?”

Mordi dropped his hand, turning to look at his father even as he schooled his face in a bland expression.

“Yes, sir,” he said. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ve finally got the hang of this.”

“There is an island, there is an island, there is an island.”

Lane repeated the words over and over, hoping that mere repetition would convince her that it was true—because, frankly, it didn’t
look
like there was an island. To her eye, she was stranded in a small boat in the middle of the ocean with nothing but water as far as she could see.

She tugged her life vest tighter and shifted her rear end from the edge of the boat to the captain’s chair—just in case.

Gnawing on her lower lip, she peered out into the water, looking in the direction in which Jason and Boreas had disappeared. Shouldn’t there be bubbles rising to the surface or something? How could they stay down there so long? And Jason hadn’t even taken any air.

Surely hours had passed, and she was hot and scared and alone.

Her fingers closed around the pager Jason had given her. All Lane wanted to do was check in, see how they were progressing. But then she caught sight of her watch.
Six minutes
. They’d been gone for six minutes, and she was already freaking out.

She took three deep breaths, clipped the pager back on the waist of her shorts, and reclined, trying to be calm.

Fat chance
. If she survived this afternoon without going crazy, it would be a miracle.

“My sentry has detected intruders, sir.” Clyde stood in the doorway and gave Mordi a disdainful glance.

Mordi licked his lips, sure that he was a dead man for having “missed” seeing the intruders on the monitors.

“
What
?” His father’s voice cut a cold path down his spine.

“In the east corridor, sir. If they continue forward, they will surely seal their own doom. Nevertheless, I wanted to report them to you.”

“As well you should,” Hieronymous agreed. He walked toward Clyde. “Come, let us see these brave but foolish visitors.”

He paused at the door, and Mordi held his breath, fearing his father would want to sneak a peek at these security monitors, which, at the moment, held no image of the east corridor.

But, “Keep an eye on the boy,” was all he said. Then Hieronymous turned on his heel and followed Clyde out.

Mordi sighed in relief. He didn’t envy Jason’s upcoming confrontation, but at the moment he was simply happy to have dodged his own bullet.

As soon as he could see Hieronymous and Clyde through the window in the cavern below, Mordi locked the door and switched all the monitors back. He pressed the button to feed sound directly into the room, and then he settled back to watch the east corridor, hoping that, no matter who won, he would be on the right side of the eight ball.

Oh, crap.

Jason remembered this corridor. He’d almost gotten killed here during his escape. It was littered with booby traps, and he hoped that after a year he could remember how to get past the dang things.

Back then, it had taken him seven solid hours to work his way slowly and methodically down the craggy hallway. Today, he didn’t have that kind of time.

“Hurry up,” Boreas whispered. “Someone’s going to see us.” The young man brushed past, sending a swirl of sparkling dust through the shaft of light that cut through the darkness before him.

Light
? Jason frowned.

Boreas moved forward, the light hitting his shoulder.

Hopping Hera
! Jason dove, throwing himself on the other Protector and slamming him to the ground.

“What the—?” Boreas struggled to get up. Jason held him down. Dozens of razor-sharp spears whizzed by, barely missing their flattened bodies and smashing into the solid rock wall behind them.

When Jason let Boreas roll over, the man’s eyes were wide. “Wow. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Jason exhaled, irritated with the cadet but glad they’d both survived. “Directive four-three-seven-b. Never rush into an unknown situation.” He aimed a stern glance at Boreas. “Next time do what I say, okay?”

“No problem,” the other Protector said, looking more than a little sheepish. He squinted at the wall from which the spears had spewed forth. “But how’d you—”

“Instinct,” Jason lied, crawling on elbows and knees past the trap.

Boreas followed, scooting on his belly. “Really?”

Footsteps sounded in the distance, and Jason edged against the wall, pushing Boreas back. The shadows were deep enough to hide in, and they barely breathed, waiting for the sound to pass.

“A guard?” Boreas whispered when it had. They started forward again.

“Probably,” Jason replied. He wasn’t entirely sure. The footsteps had been erratic, not the usual measured steps of a sentry walking a post. Whoever it was, Jason wasn’t inclined to meet him.

He crooked a finger, urging Boreas to follow. Maneuvering past a few more traps, they negotiated the hallway, slipped around a corner, and walked into a cell block.

It wasn’t hard to figure out which cell would be Davy’s: the only one with a closed door. Jason crept over. The door was locked, of course.

Boreas just smiled. “Leave this to me.”

He rushed off before Jason could stop him—back toward the possible sentry. Jason fumed, and was just about to follow when the neophyte returned.

“Don’t ever .. .”Jason trailed off when he saw the plastic card dangling from Boreas’s finger. “How?” he asked.

“Easy,” the kid said. He stretched his arm out a good five feet, made his fingers ultra-thin. “If I don’t make it as a superhero, I can always support myself through the fine art of pick pocketing.”

Jason grinned. Taking the key, he opened the cell door and stepped inside, his heart pounding. “Davy?”

No boy ran to him. In fact, the cell was quite empty. A half-eaten sandwich was the only sign that someone had been there at all.

He wasn’t answering her page.

Lane sucked in four deep breaths and told herself to be calm. He was probably just occupied. Busy. Right in the middle of rescuing her son. Surely he wasn’t flat on some concrete slab with a buzz saw about to slice and dice him.

She glanced at her watch. Thirteen minutes since they’d left.

Dammit, he should be answering!

She tried again. Waited. Still no answer.

Visions of snarling, drooling hellhounds filled her thoughts. Mad scientists, performing experiments on the captured Jason and Boreas. Davy, kicking and screaming as Hieronymous burst through a glass ceiling a la
The Poseidon Adventure,
and then flew away, his maniacal cackle echoing over the waves.

Sharp pain shot through her hands and she realized she’d dug her fingernails into her palms, drawing blood.

This time she took five deep breaths. They didn’t help. She tried another page. Still no answer.

Okay, then. Apparently it was up to her to rescue her son, her former lover, and a freshman Protector. No problem. Except for the swimming-to-shore part, no problem at all.

With one more deep breath for courage, she slipped off her shorts, revealing the bathing suit Jason had provided her, and peered over the edge of the boat. The water looked deep and black. If there were sharks down there, were they going to think she was lunch?

And what if the boat had drifted? She thought the invisible island had been to the left, but maybe it was now to the right. Should she jump in and just start paddling? She might reach Australia before she reached Davy.

Not that that would happen, of course. She’d be fish food long before she made it to Australia.

Still, what choice did she have? Her son was in danger, and so was Jason. By God, she was going to help!

Carefully, Lane stood and placed one foot on the edge of the boat, then the other, until she was balanced on the side. Quickly, before she had time to think about it, she held her nose and jumped.

Warm water enveloped her, but her head didn’t go under thanks to her life jacket. She started paddling, hoping like heck she was headed in the right direction.

After a bit, the air shimmered in front of her. She blinked, wondering if her serious lack of food was going to her head. The air shimmered again, only this time, Lane thought she saw the faint outline of rocks and palm trees. Wishful thinking? Or the island?

She paddled faster, this time adding a kick for good measure. Her toes hit something solid and she recoiled, fearing she’d just smacked a hungry shark in the head. But when she looked down, she didn’t see a shark, but sand.

She’d made it! And the island was closer than she’d realized. Looking up, she saw its wide expanse: a sandy beach ending in dense foliage.

Something moved in the foliage, and Lane twisted, futilely searching for a hiding place. She tried to duck under the water, but her life vest kept her up, so she just held her breath, staving very, very still, and hoped that whoever was coming wouldn’t look in her direction.

More movement, more rustling of leaves. Just past the beach the branches shook, something emerging from the shadows. There was a flash of skin, and then—

“Davy!” With her heart about to explode, Lane sloshed forward. Her life jacket was wet and heavy, so she yanked it off, tossing it over her head.

“Mommy!” Her son’s eyes widened and he ran to her, his little legs splashing through the surf.

They met at the top of the beach, and Lane scooped Davy into her arms, dropping to her knees and smothering him with kisses. “Oh, my sweet baby!” she gasped. She gripped his shoulders and pushed him back to look him over. “Are you okay? Did Hieronymous hurt you?” She lifted his shirt and started to look for bruises.

“Mommy,” he protested, smoothing the shirt back down. “I’m okay.” He pressed closer, his arms tight around her neck.

Lane’s legs turned to rubber and she sank down, sitting fully on the sand with Davy in her lap. She didn’t want him to see her crying, so she pulled him close, pressing his head against her chest as she fought tears. They were inevitable, she knew that; but maybe if she tried hard enough she could hold off until she was home, curled up on the sofa, with a pillow pressed tight to her face.

With effort, she pulled herself together, then leaned back, needing to look at him one more time. She stroked her boy’s hair, laughing with delight at the way he squirmed, his protests of “Mommy,” falling on deaf ears.

Thank God he was safe
. She just kept repeating that over and over in her mind, like a mantra.
Thank God, and thank Jason
.

She frowned, looking around, but there was no sign of him. Had he stayed behind? Had he been caught by Hieronymous? Did he need her help?

“Where’s Jason?” she asked, tilting Davy’s head up. She held her breath, half-expecting to hear that he was trussed like a turkey above a vat of boiling oil. She didn’t expect the answer she got.

“Who?” Davy asked.

“Jason,” she repeated. “Your ... uh ... the man who rescued you.”

He shook his head, his eyes wide. “Nobody rescued me, Mommy. I rescued myself.”

Jason’s stomach twisted as he and Boreas crept through the tunnels searching for Davy. The boy’s cell was empty, which meant Hieronymous must have taken him somewhere else. Jason didn’t know where, but he damn sure would find out.

His pager vibrated, and Jason cupped his hand over it, just about to answer when they reached the end of the corridor. A cavern loomed ahead, huge and foreboding. Inside, Hieronymous stood before a massive structure covered with midnight-black cloth.

Davy was under that cloth; somehow, Jason just knew. He had to get his son free.

In a flash, Jason pressed his back against the wall, slamming Boreas back as well. His heart pounded in his chest, so loud he feared his Outcast father could hear. His pager vibrated again, but Jason couldn’t do anything but stand stock still. He wanted to answer, to tell Lane that he was all right and that he’d find Davy, but Hieronymous was too close. He couldn’t risk the man overhearing him.

“Well, well, well.” His father’s deep voice echoed through the chamber.

Jason cringed.
Too late
. Hieronymous was walking toward them.

Passing Boreas the vibrating pager, Jason signaled for him to get back. Then he took a deep breath, drew himself to his full height, and stepped into the center of the corridor—and into Hieronymous’s clutches.

“Look, Clyde,” Hieronymous said to the Outcast standing beside him. “The prodigal son returns.” He lifted his hand, revealing a silver orb resting in his palm. Returning his full attention to Jason, he asked, “Are you coming to accept my invitation at last? Or to meet your doom?”

“Neither,” Jason answered. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to once and for all go
mano a mano
with his father. Time enough for that later. Right now, he had to help Davy. He met Hieronymous’s icy gaze. “I’m here to rescue my son.”

“Pity,” Hieronymous said. “I had so hoped to have a son—
an heir
—who was worthy of inheriting my empire.”

“You don’t have an empire,” Jason snapped. “You have a delusion.”

A dangerous smile touched Hieronymous’s lips. “Ah, but I will have one.” He extended his hand, the silver orb balanced on his palm. “And you can be part of it. Or you can die.”

“I’m gonna go with none of the above,” Jason said. He moved with lightning speed, retrieving the knife from his utility belt and taking deadly aim. But just before the blade left his hand, Hieronymous’s orb hummed with power and emitted a flash of light.

Jason howled, recoiling, as pain seared his arm. He glanced down to see an angry red welt where his wetsuit was sliced below the shoulder.

“
Bastard
,” he snarled.

“Next time, the beam will find your heart.” Hieronymous took another step forward. “Perhaps you would like to reconsider my most generous offer?”

Jason gave him the finger.

“How very eloquent,” Hieronymous replied. He looked sideways toward Clyde.

Jason took advantage of the moment to rush forward. It was foolhardy, maybe, but dammit, he wanted to get his hands around his father’s neck. As he moved, Clyde called out.