Bay of Sighs (24 page)

Then she saw a starfish, red as fire, sleeping on a rock. It soothed her, the peace of it, the prettiness. She swam closer, thinking to pet it, and realized it wasn't sleeping.

Charmed, she cupped it in her hands, felt a warmth from it, and when it swam away, toward the mouth of the cave, she smiled. It seemed as if lights had sparkled in its wake.

She wanted to swim after it, to swim in those sparkles of light. But her friends . . .

Ashamed that, even for a few seconds, she hadn't been vigilant, she turned in the water, saw Riley tap her watch.

So she did swim through the sparkles, though she lost sight of the starfish as Sawyer went first. But she felt that joy again, and wanted to go above, talk to Sawyer about swimming through the stars.

At the very moment it struck her, she heard the sighs, heard the song. Still distant, but closer than before. A guide, of course, a guide. And the sighs and songs calling them. Calling her.

Not this cave, but another. If she could catch the starfish, the guide, it would lead them. Excitement burst through her. She kicked her legs, reached out to touch Sawyer. He glanced back at her as he swam out of the cave.

And looking back at her, at the delight on her face, he didn't see the ambush.

The fléchette hit him high on the right shoulder.

Annika heard the terrible sound, saw the blood spill into the water. She burst out of the cave like fury, only to have Sawyer shove her back and behind him as he reached across his body to draw his own gun with his left hand.

She didn't think, but acted, punching out light from the bracelets, ripping it through the water to send men tumbling back. And Bran's lightning joined them. A spear sliced out and into a man's leg from Sasha's harpoon.

It was blood and madness. Sawyer's blood, the blood of men.

And the sharks came to hunt, just as in the painting.

She knew what to do, to stay close. And though her stomach twisted when one of the sharks closed those jaws around a man, she told herself they were the enemy. As predicted, that enemy turned away, to fire at the sharks.

Sawyer signaled, closed the hand of his wounded arm around his compass. Prepared to travel, Annika shot out more light. And as she felt the pull, the swirl, something struck her hip.

Sharp, shocking. Her vision blurred, and she slipped away.

Blind with pain, Sawyer collapsed on the deck of the boat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Get us out of here. I'm not sure I've got another one in me.”

“Let me see.” Face grim, Bran dropped down beside him as Doyle yanked off his fins.

“Anni.” Though her hands shook, Sasha reloaded the harpoon. “She didn't come back with us. She's not with us.”

“What?” Shoving Bran aside, Sawyer lunged to his feet. “I had her. I had her.”

“She dropped away. I could see it—I couldn't stop it. She—they—a dart in her hip. I couldn't—”

She got no further. Sawyer vanished.

“Christ. I'm going back in.”

“We've got company.” Doyle's statement stopped Riley from jumping back in the water.

“We're not leaving them down there.”

“We're not leaving anybody.” Doyle stepped out of the wheelhouse, grabbed his sword.

They swarmed out of the sky, swooping over the dive boat fifty yards away, diving toward theirs. Though blade and bullet were coated with Bran's potion and burst dozens into ash, the pitched and ugly battle took precious time. Enough for them to helplessly watch the other boat speed away as they fought.

“They've got them!” Weeping, Sasha grabbed Sawyer's gun, fired over and over. “We have to go after them.”

“They've defenses of their own.” As they destroyed the last of the birds, a gray fog rolled over the sea, swallowed the other boat. Bran threw light at it, but it bounced off, like a ball striking a wall. “Bitch.”

“We go after them anyway,” Riley insisted. “They don't have that big a lead.”

“More than this boat can cover. And you're bleeding, Gwin.”
Doyle set down his sword, pulled the flap from the slice in her wet suit.

“Yeah, one grazed me. Just grazed.” She looked down at her side. “Just a—ha-ha—flesh wound.”

“You wouldn't have that if you hadn't pushed me aside down there. Don't ever do that again.”

Riley raised her eyebrows at Sasha. “You're welcome.”

“I mean it. Goddamn it. I can handle myself as well as you.”

“Settle down now,” Bran soothed. “And you, sit down and let me have a look. Doyle, you'd best take us back to shore.”

“We can't. We can't go back. We can't leave them.”

“
Fáidh
, we need to deal with wounds, get more weapons. And we need to find them. On my life, we will find them. We'll bring them home.”

She dropped down, covered her face with her hands. “I felt her go numb—a tranquilizer gun, I think. I felt her slipping away from us, but I couldn't reach her. It happened too fast. I couldn't get to her.”

“Then believe Sawyer did.”

“He's
shot
.”

“Believe,” Bran repeated. “We'll bring them home safe.”

“Retreat isn't surrender.” Doyle turned the boat. “We'll get them.”

S
he woke muddled, her head aching, her hip tender and sore. For a moment, a blessed moment, Annika thought she'd had a terrible dream. But as she tried to reach out for Sawyer, she felt the kiss and flow of water all around.

The sea, the men, the blood, the sharks.

As she struggled to clear her mind, make her body move, she saw yes, she was in the water. But the water had glass walls, and a closed glass top. Like a box.

And she had no clothes. Though she didn't have the ingrained
modesty of land people, Annika understood that to have been stripped without knowledge and consent, to be trapped without covering in a box of water, was a deep and terrible violation.

She pressed her hands on the glass, looked out.

The cave. She believed it to be the cave, though there were changes. Lights and counters or tables, and machines. And men with guns.

Her heart leaped, then froze when she saw Sawyer.

They had chained him, his arms over his head. Blood stained the bandage on his shoulder. They'd taken his wet suit so he wore only the trunks, and they'd chained him so his feet barely met the floor.

His head drooped, and she recognized he was still unconscious. Alive, she comforted herself. She could see his chest move with his breath. They were alive, and she had to get out, help him.

She lifted her arms to try to shoot light at the glass, hoping to break it, but saw the thick black covering over each cuff. Though she pulled, tried to tear, she couldn't remove it.

And when she shot light at the glass, it was weak, too weak.

So she beat her fists against it.

“There's our little mermaid.”

The words slithered through the water like eels, had Annika whirling, searching for the source.

He walked into the chamber, a small, thin man who made her think of a snake. He wore all black—a shirt with sleeves rolled to his elbows, pants with a thick black belt and silver buckle. His hair, black as well, slicked back from his face, leaving the cruel lines of it unframed. Sharp brows, a thinly smiling mouth, long, hard eyes of a shocking, nearly beautiful pale blue.

“We couldn't remove your bracelets—not without slicing off your hands. Let's hope it doesn't come to that.”

There was a singing quality to his voice. It might have been beautiful, like his eyes, but for the coldness of it. He stepped up to the glass wall, studied her.

“How do you breathe? No gills that show. It's fascinating. But we have people who will figure all that out, one way or the other. But where are my manners? I am Eli Yadin, and I'll be working with you and your companion. The work can go easily, or not so easily. This will be your choice. Mr. Malmon will be here directly. He'll be very pleased to meet you.”

Yadin glanced at Sawyer. “Both of you.”

She turned her back on him, curled up. A small defiance, but all she had.

“I can see you're a bit upset. I'll leave you to sulk for the moment. It's time to wake up your friend.”

She whirled back, her hands in fists, her fists pressed to the glass. Ignoring her, Yadin picked something out of a tray and broke it under Sawyer's nose.

Sawyer coughed, wheezed, jerked. Though the movement had the stain on his shoulder spreading, he tried to swing, tried to kick out.

Yadin only laughed. “Ah, the defiance of youth! It's so much more entertaining to work with someone who has it. Yes, we have your lovely friend,” he added when Sawyer's gaze fixed on Annika. “In a habitat created just for her. The others deserted you.” His voice softened, all but crooned. “Ran away to save themselves. Left you and her to die. Or worse. It will be worse, so very much worse, unless you give me what I want.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck what you want?”

“Oh, so young, full of that defiance. And handsome.” He scraped a nail lightly down Sawyer's bare chest. “For now.”

He went back to a counter, lifted a tray, tipping it to show Sawyer what it held. When he got no reaction, he turned the tray toward Annika.

She saw knives, so many knives, and things that gleamed silver and sharp and would clip like scissors. For a moment she went mad,
beating against the glass, kicking against it, screaming so the sound came through the tank and its speakers in a high, thin wail.

“You don't want me to hurt him? How sweet. Perhaps I'll wait on these.” He set them down. “But what will you give me for my patience? Mr. Malmon very much wants to see you in your true form. Be what you are, and perhaps I won't hurt him.”

“Don't. He's lying. Don't give him anything.”

Yadin turned, grabbed a weighted sap from the table, struck it viciously across Sawyer's face. As blood spurted, Annika shot up to the top of the tank, threw herself against the lid.

“Crude, but effective. Shall I do it again. Yes, why not?”

He struck the other side of Sawyer's face. When Sawyer went limp, Annika spun down, swirled out her tail.

“Ahhhh! Fascinating. And mesmerizing. You are a rare creature.”

The tank trembled when she whirled, fast, fast, then struck the glass with her tail. She whirled again, struck again. Prepared to strike a third time, but Yadin pressed some sort of stick against Sawyer's chest.

The scream came first, ripping her heart, then his body shook and shook, with his eyes rolled back white. And the sounds he made were worse than the scream.

Yadin turned again as Sawyer gasped, as his head fell on his chest. “That was a light touch, do you understand? Do that again, and I'll fry his brains in his skull.”

She sank to the bottom, stared her fury through the glass.

“Better. Now, why don't we . . . Ah, Mr. Malmon. As you see, we're making some progress.”

Unlike Yadin, Malmon wore white, the shirt cuffed at his wrists. Though dark glasses shielded his eyes, Annika felt the burn of them as he stared at her.

“Glorious. She's glorious. I believe I'll keep her, at least for a time. Be sure not to damage her—at least in any way that shows.”

Dismissing Annika, Malmon turned to Sawyer. “Not so cocky now, I see, but bleeding and beaten, chained like an animal. You might have had millions, but here you are.”

He stepped over, picked up the compass. “And I have the prize after all.” As if amused, Malmon picked up the prod Yadin had set aside, turned it in his hand, then jabbed it viciously into Sawyer's belly.

Annika bowed her head, her tears sliding into the water as the terrible stick left small black burns on Sawyer's skin, as it made his body shake and shake.

Then Malmon plunged his fist into Sawyer's belly, and his body swung back so high, so violently, the shackles gouged his wrists bloody.

When Malmon lifted the stick as if to whip it across Sawyer's face, Yadin stepped forward. “Mr. Malmon—”

Malmon whirled, his lips peeling back. Showing fangs.

Hastily, Yadin lifted his hands. Both fear and fascination flickered over his face, but he spoke in that same singing tone. “You can, of course, do as you wish. But if you want information from him, it requires a certain . . . delicacy, and patience.”

Malmon made a sound, like the hiss of a snake, but he lowered his arm. The hand holding the prod shook before he tossed it to the other man.

“Perhaps you're right. Do your job.”

“Of course. Now, Mr. King, Mr. Malmon is very interested in how this device operates. If you explain, there'll be no need for more pain. Then we can discuss the Stars of Fortune.”

His voice was hoarse, breathless, so he had to speak slowly. His left eye had swollen shut, but the right stared that defiance out of the blood and bruising.

“Sure. Boy Scout Manual. You can look up how to work a compass.”