Lords of the Deep (7 page)

“Do you think you could refrain from making love to my damned specimen, damn it?”

“No.”

“Gods damn it, Damien!” He uttered a frustrated growl as Damien disappeared around the turn with her. “Don’t blame me if you find out the hard way that her cat has teeth in it! We don’t actually
know
that that was her cat I discovered, you know!”

“I’ll examine her thoroughly and see if I find another one!” Damien called back to him.

Lifting his hand to the back of his neck, Miles massaged the ache there, realizing abruptly that he was tired himself. After studying over it a moment it dawned on him that he couldn’t remember when he’d slept last. He moved to the chronometer, studying it a little blankly and trying to decide if it was midday or midnight. Giving up after a moment, he moved to the window in his lab and pressed the button to open the blinds, staring toward the city in the distance. It was dark, only a smattering of lights on and those the subdued blue that meant it was late at night.

“Midnight,” he muttered, trying to recall when he’d gone to the lab that morning. Remembering after a few minutes that it hadn’t actually been morning when he’d gone to his lab, a sense of satisfaction settled in him.
That
was why he was so tired! Probably why his mind was foggy, too.

He hadn’t eaten either, he realized, finally discerning what the cramping in his stomach indicated.

After glancing around the lab, he moved to the door, turning out the lights.

It was ludicrous for Damien to insinuate that he couldn’t keep his mind on his work for thinking about mating the female, he thought angrily, staring blankly at the contents of the preserver unit and trying to remember why he’d opened it to start with.

“Food,” he prompted himself after a moment, studying the near empty shelves a little hopefully. Remembering abruptly that he’d pretty much emptied it when he’d grabbed sustenance for the terra, he closed it again and wandered over to study the food locker, discovering with a good bit of irritation that it was nearly as empty as the preserver. “Damn it! Didn’t I just
buy
food?”

Well, he had to have something. Now that he’d noticed the emptiness in his stomach it seemed like it was going to eat through him. Grabbing a container of tuna, he looked around a little hopefully for something to go with it and finally gave up and settled at the table with the tuna.

“Alright,” he muttered to himself, so he
had
noticed she was a pretty little thing, and his cock had just about driven him crazy all day long, but—gods! —he was an okean, wasn’t he, even if he
was
a scientist? He hadn’t let it interfere with his work.

If anything had, he thought wryly, it was his excitement over discovering her.

Where had his mind been that he hadn’t even
considered
contamination? That was a serious error in judgment. Not that he was particularly worried about it. He hadn’t seen anything to worry about when he’d examined the … whatever it was he’d pulled off her, something like the fibers they used for household comforts—though why she had it
on
her he still couldn’t figure out.

It must be some sort of custom her people observed, he decided finally.

Or maybe, considering how desolate the
above
was, they needed more than just their skin to protect themselves from the hostile environment?

She’d seemed awfully worried about not having it—distressed. It was clever of her to figure out so quickly how to replace what she’d lost.

Damned inconvenient, but clever.

Well, irritating, too.

He was almost sorry, now, that he hadn’t taken the things completely away from her. She didn’t need them and he’d enjoyed looking at her, damn it to hell! It wasn’t as if he had a lot of opportunity to look at pretty catkins—not that she was one—but pretty, she was pretty. He had his work to do, after all, and it was important research. No one had ever studied the
above
—not really—a few minor explorations a hundred years or more ago.

Of course, that was partly because it was so dangerous and inhospitable, and partly because there were laws against it, but a scientist couldn’t be bothered with politics and silly myths. Scientists dealt in facts. And there wasn’t a lot that hadn’t been discovered in their own world. Could he help it if the
above
was the only frontier left to be explored? The only real challenge open to him?

A surge of excitement went through him. His peers were going to keel over when he presented his discovery! Of course, Damien had actually captured her, but that was a minor detail. He was scientist, not a hunter. He would certainly acknowledge Damien’s part in it, but he’d been the one to map out the most likely location to find one. Obviously, his theory that the terrans would most likely use the same currents
they
used to harness power for their cities to traverse the
above
had been sound.

Of course, he’d gotten the idea from the myths depicting the tiny moving islands they were sometimes found on, but
he
had thought of it and obviously no one else had!

Discovering he’d emptied the package of tuna while he was ruminating over his current project, he considered whether he’d had enough and finally got up to search for something else when he decided he hadn’t.

He’d thought all of his excitement was due to their discovery, he thought ruefully when he had settled with another package of tuna. He supposed that didn’t account for the waving, though, as reluctant as he was to admit it. He didn’t generally get hard no matter how excited he was about a discovery.

Damien was right. He’d been waving at her, however oblivious he’d tried to be of the damned thing.

Well, he was just going to have to deal with it. Maybe it wouldn’t be quite as difficult if he allowed her to swaddle herself in those fibers and hide that lovely body from him?

Then again, how was he supposed to study it if she kept it covered?

He needed to at least study her reproductive organs if Damien was considering trying to mate her. He’d hate like hell for Damien to lose his cock over it, regardless of what Damien thought. An okean without his cock just wasn’t an okean.

Alright, so he also wanted to know because he was thinking about it himself. Maybe Damien thought it was ridiculous for him to worry about it when she looked so much like them, but it certainly wasn’t. He needed to sort the myths from the reality. They couldn’t just trust that the myths were
all
made up any more than they could trust that it was all true. There had to be
some
reason for the tales about how dangerous the terrans were,
particularly
the catkins—or whatever they called the females.

Maybe
Damien was right and it was only because they were all such beautiful, delicate creatures that mermen found them irresistible, but that didn’t seem likely to him. After all, there were some damned ugly catkins running about. He should know! It seemed to him that one only had to be ugly as the devil to decide he was just the male they wanted!

It was the damned yellow caplet! If it hadn’t been so rare among them, he doubted he would get much notice at all—not that he thought he was ugly, but most of the females—the pretty ones—were more interested in the warriors and okeans of that ilk, like Damien, than they were in scientists.

Of course, he knew that was because it was just nature to want to breed with the strongest and he hadn’t tried to prove he was.

Maybe he should’ve, he thought abruptly?
He
knew he was as strong as any of the other males. He could’ve made it to the mating grounds any time he’d wanted to—in fact had. It was just a damned shame he’d discovered every time that his timing was off and he was the only fucking okean there, waving his cock with no catkin to take interest in it! He really was going to have to start paying a little more attention to that sort of thing, he thought. But then he wasn’t particularly interested in having to prove his strength and stamina, damn it, just to get a chance at a catkin’s precious little cat! If they couldn’t appreciate his brain, why would he want to breed them? To breed strong,
stupid
mers?

If he had, though, he supposed he might be able to keep his mind on business at the present. One couldn’t ignore nature forever.

Maybe he should ask Damien when the next season was? He hadn’t had any luck so far in showing up at the right time and place ….

Unless he’d gotten the place wrong? Maybe it had been the right time, but the wrong place?

He considered that but finally dismissed it. It wasn’t as if
every
mer didn’t know the sacred grounds from birth! Nope. Right place, wrong time. There was no getting around it.

And as usual, his timing was off! His cock had been waving madly at Angie all day and she wasn’t the least bit interested in taking him up on it—which probably meant she wasn’t in season, but might also mean he just didn’t appeal to her, he thought glumly.

Which was probably a good thing. If she’d shown any interest, he’d probably have behaved as recklessly as Damien had—cuddling up to her,
kissing
her! She could’ve done anything! Even if she didn’t have some weird defense mechanism that they were unaware of, she was from the
above
. She could be a carrier of diseases they had no knowledge of or cure for!

He was going to have to focus on that, he decided. First things first. Make sure she couldn’t poison them or do any serious damage,
then
he could focus on her sexuality, find out breeding habits and customs and that sort of thing.

Getting up decisively, he headed back to his lab to examine the materials he’d taken from her again for any potentially dangerous microbes he might have missed.

* * * *

Some of Angie’s fear abated once Damien had walked her through the lab—not all of it. She still couldn’t figure out where he was taking her and the unknown in her current situation was scarier than anything she’d ever experienced before.

She held her breath when he finally stopped in front of a door and pressed a button in the wall to open it. It slid open almost silently, surprising her. She was more surprised to discover what was inside. The tension she’d gathered to fight ebbed slowly as she looked around at the room. It was sparsely appointed but clearly a bed room. With his arm still riding her back, Damien guided her across the room to another, smaller door and pressed a button, which slid open revealing a bathroom.

Surprise flickered through her. She shouldn’t have been. The lab alone was enough of an indication of an advanced society, but it looked so … normal! True, there was an exotic design to everything, but when Damien had shown her how everything worked, she saw it was very much like facilities she was used to.

Damien caught her face between his palms, forcing her to meet his gaze, and said something firmly to her. She didn’t understand, naturally, but it seemed safe to guess that he was telling her she had to stay put. He released her after a moment and strode from the suite, closing the door behind him.

She stared at the door, wondering if he’d locked her in, but did it really matter? Where could she go?

Or would they have some sort of ships?

Frowning, she considered it and finally decided it probably wasn’t very likely. They obviously didn’t have to worry about drowning. Even though they were air breathers like she was, they were as in tune with the sea as other ocean dwelling mammals.

Unless they were in the habit of migrating great distances, why would they need any kind of transportation?

It seemed obvious, too, that this was a permanent residence. Despite the location, it had the ‘feel’ of one, not the feel of being on a ship.

It still could be, she thought, the entire thing. Even if she thought ‘submarine’ and cramped, stifling quarters when she thought about undersea travel, it didn’t necessarily follow that it was that way for them—certainly not if this place was any indication.

It was huge. They’d traversed a long corridor and then turned on another that was equally long before they’d arrived at the suite.

Or maybe the corridor was nothing but a connecting vein to the lab? She hadn’t noticed any doors or windows.

Mostly because she’d been too frightened about where Damien might be taking her to focus on anything else.

She realized she was bone tired as that thought drifted from her mind and she looked around the bedroom again. Did she dare let down her guard, though?

And what good was her guard doing her, she mentally countered?

Damien had proven beyond any shadow of doubt that she didn’t stand a chance of defending herself against either one of them, whatever they decided to do with her. She’d exerted every ounce of strength she could muster and it hadn’t seemed to require any effort at all on his part to counter it.

She shook her head at herself, disturbed by how easily she’d lowered her barriers when he’d set about soothing her. She shouldn’t have yielded so easily after that display of power. She should be more afraid of him now, not less.

Except that the moment he’d conquered her, he’d immediately eased his hold on her, touched her gently, murmured words that were soothing in tone even if they’d been incomprehensible to her.