Authors: Madeleine Urban,Abigail Roux
Tags: #Mystery, #abigail roux, #Paperback, #Novel, #Mystery/Suspense, #gay, #Series, #glbt, #Suspense, #m/m romance, #dreamspinner press, #madeleine urban
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Chapter 10
SMUGGLING the spare scuba tank to the platforms where the boats were moored was not as easy as it had been to sneak in the ceramic knife he had used on his last attempt. He"d had to disembark at the last port and hire his way to this island to get ahead of the cruise ship, then track down the service that would be used for the scuba excursion. But he was quite good at his job, and he managed to slip past the attendants in the little shop and get to the staging area unmolested.
He had failed to kill or maim the blond man on the rock wall, and he had been shocked when he"d learned the man hadn"t even fallen when his rope broke, much less been injured. Before taking the assignment, he"d been informed his target might be easily underestimated, but he had fallen into the trap anyway. This time he did not intend to fail. He did not have to kill the man to succeed, merely put him out of commission.
The scuba gear lay lined up on the pier alongside the small boat that would be used to take the group to sea later today. The gear had been conveniently labeled with the names of the users, according to size and skill level. He scuttled along the bundles until he found the one for Del Porter. He hefted the tank he"d brought with him, checking its weight. It was filled with the correct amount of oxygen: approximately 21 percent. But the rest of the gasses were a dangerous mixture of carbon dioxide and nitrous oxide. Maybe it wasn"t lethal, but breathing it would induce a certain lethargy, courtesy of the poisonous carbon dioxide, and combined with the euphoric effect of the nitrous oxide, that certainly would be lethal when a person was underwater.
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If the target realized his air was bad once he got down there, he might not care enough to try to surface before he drowned.
“HOW long has it been since you went diving?” Zane asked as he struggled to pull the skintight suit up his legs. The damn thing was rubber and kept sticking to him. He should have brought some baby powder.
“I get my certification re-upped every year,” Ty answered, the fake British accent in full force again today. He wasn"t struggling with the neoprene suit. There seemed to be a technique that Zane didn"t know. Ty looked up at Zane and smiled. He hadn"t shaved that morning, and the dark stubble contrasted alarmingly with his white-blond hair. The aviator glasses he"d snuck off and purchased, the ones almost exactly like the pair he"d left at home, gave him a slightly rakish air as he grinned crookedly and zipped up the suit. “Why?”
“Wondering if you"ll be bored while they give us refresher lessons,” Zane said of their “mixed experience” diving excursion. He huffed and finally worked the suit up over his thighs and hips. Now he just had to pull it up over his chest to squeeze his arms through the short sleeves. Getting into this thing was more work than the diving would be.
Ty shook his head and picked up his tank. “Instructor told us the experienced divers can go off on their own, farther down the shelf. Do you need help?” he asked bemusedly as he watched Zane struggle.
“An extra hand or three would be appreciated,” Zane said, although it seemed silly to ask. “It"s not like we"re going to get cold in Caribbean waters,” he groused about the heavy, insulating suit.
“At least it"s a three-quarter and not a steamer,” Ty said in a warm voice. He still wore the sunglasses, but Zane somehow knew that Ty was looking up at him instead of down as he rolled the wetsuit up Zane"s torso.
Zane let his smile grow a little shark-like. “I think it"s steamy enough for a public venue,” he agreed, his voice a low purr.
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Ty inclined his chin, reaching to take his aviators off and peer at Zane studiously. He looked at home in the body-hugging wetsuit. His skin was a healthy brown in the sunshine, and the salty breeze playfully lifted his unnaturally colored hair off his brow. His eyes were a deep green in the sunlight. And Zane had no desire whatsoever to look away.
Ty leaned closer and kissed Zane briefly, a simple brush of their lips.
“Next time we should do this for real.”
“For real?” Zane repeated, slightly breathless.
“Time off,” Ty clarified, his voice dropping to a mere whisper.
“In a tropical place where we have no jurisdiction and won"t be bothered by murderers or thieves.”
Zane felt warmth flush through him, and it wasn"t because of being sealed into a wetsuit. He set his hands on Ty"s hips and pulled gently so their chests bumped. “I like that idea.”
Ty laughed softly and took Zane by both wrists, pulling his hands away. “A little decorum, please,” he said primly. He reached down and sealed Zane"s wetsuit up slowly, taking care not to catch his skin with the zipper.
“Decorum,” Zane muttered. “Sure.” He had to look away from Ty and out over the water to keep that concept in mind. Luckily, the instructor spoke up and gave him something else to focus on.
The man presented a basic review of technique and equipment, as well as more in-depth information about the man-made reef below for the more experienced divers, but Zane was only listening with half an ear. Ty checked over Zane"s tank, hoses, and gauges to make sure everything was in working order, then did the same to his own. He murmured to himself as he did this, explaining to Zane what he was doing, and that was much more interesting to listen to.
Once the instructor was done, Ty hefted his tank up and slung it over his shoulders, securing it with a level of familiarity and competence even a novice would have recognized.
“Ready to go?” he asked Zane brightly as he pulled his face mask over his head.
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“Let"s go, hotshot,” Zane answered with an indulgent smile as they moved to sit on the edge of the dive boat with the other twenty or so people. He pulled his mask on and settled the breathing apparatus.
He figured the worst would be remembering he couldn"t breathe through his nose, and that wouldn"t be tough. This was kind of exciting, really, in a good way, for a change. He turned to look at Ty just as his partner fell back into the water and disappeared. After a deep breath, Zane followed.
It was suddenly quiet and calm around him, and all he had to focus on was his breathing. It was soothing. Zane sank slowly through layers of blue and green for what seemed like a long time, letting the weight on the belts he wore pull him down as he got used to the silence roaring in his ears and watched the water mute the glittering light above the surface. He drifted down past several divers who were staying closer to the surface, and one of the dive instructors wearing a bright yellow neoprene suit waved at him. Zane gave her a thumbs-up before righting himself and turning to peer through the shifting water.
When he looked down, Ty—Zane would recognize that body shape anywhere—was several yards below him, arms and legs spread out as if floating on the surface. It was a pose of utter relaxation and pleasure. He gave Zane a little wave, then straightened his body out, gave a strong kick of his legs, and dove backward, relative to Zane, deeper into the clear blue. He reminded Zane of a porpoise, with how easily he wiggled through the water.
Zane saw some divers nearby checking out the coral reef the sea had made its own, but he was content to simply float slowly deeper and keep an eye on where Ty the Super Dolphin swam.
It was easy for Zane to lose himself under water, surrounded by the warmth and silence, schools of fish flitting about, brilliant colors set off by the never-ending aqua. All that marred the view was the black blobs of the other divers, and there were fewer of those the deeper he sank along the shelf.
As he turned lazily in the water, one of those black blobs rushed toward him at alarming speed, swooping down on him from above.
Before Zane could react, strong hands grabbed his biceps, and the
“attacking” diver hung suspended upside down above him. A faceplate Fish & Chips | 201
pressed against Zane"s, and Ty"s hazel eyes sparkled merrily as he looked at him and winked. Zane laughed and had to reach out to set his mouthpiece back between his teeth before he could swipe at Ty, who was already reeling away. Zane was a decent swimmer, but there was no way in hell he could catch Ty. It would be fun to try, though, and Zane grabbed at an arm, his fingers catching on the skin of Ty"s wrist, before his partner swished just out of reach.
Ty twisted and turned to circle back around and behind Zane, and from the smile Zane could see even behind the mouthpiece, he could tell Ty was enjoying the cat-and-mouse game just as much as he was.
He used Zane"s backside to kick off and darted away from him. Zane"s longer arms weren"t an advantage; the water slowed him down enough that all he ever got was his fingertips on suit or skin. After rolling completely over in the water while chasing a flipper, Zane watched Ty literally cavort away, teasing and waving. It struck Zane that he didn"t get to see Ty like this often: playful and relaxed. Zane really liked it.
He was very much like a seal, gleefully flitting around a killer whale and daring it to catch him. Zane tried to snort at the comparison but couldn"t because of the face mask. If Ty"s offer to take off to a tropical island for their next stretch of time off was serious, it was an extremely enticing offer, especially if this was the side of Ty he"d get to see every day.
Ty glided along the sandy ocean floor as Zane watched. The shadows were deeper there, but visibility was still good. The waves above were a world away, and the peace and joy of the moment stole over the scene, lulling Zane into just enjoying it.
He should have known it wouldn"t last.
Ty stopped his leisurely swim and sank to his knees in the sand on the ocean floor. A cloud of sediment and disturbed sand billowed in slow motion around him. He seemed to be checking one of the gauges of his air tank. After several breaths, Zane righted himself and kicked his legs a couple times to send him in that direction to see what was going on.
Ty looked up as Zane approached. The murky clouds around him had begun to settle, and Zane could see his chest and shoulders clearly again. He gestured for Zane to come closer, and when Zane got within 202 | Madeleine Urban & Abigail Roux
reach, Ty reached out and took hold of his shoulder, peering at his air gauge closely. He then leaned back and tapped his own, gesturing for Zane to look at it.
It read that the tank was half empty. Plenty of air left. Zane shrugged. Why was Ty looking at it? Zane held out both hands, palms up, and lifted them in a “what"s up?” motion.
Ty shook his head and pointed to his mouthpiece. He then made a quit motion across his throat and pointed at the gauge again. He wanted Zane to turn off the air? That couldn"t be right. Zane shook his head, shrugged, and peered at Ty, waiting for him to elaborate.
Ty threw his head to the side, rolling his eyes behind the mask in frustration. Then, to Zane"s growing surprise, he pulled the mouthpiece out of his mouth and shrugged out of the tank, leaving him with no air at all. Zane called out a garbled “what the hell” through his mouthpiece and grabbed at Ty"s arm as he looked around for one of the yellow suits. If Ty was jerking him around, Zane didn"t want the instructor to see it. But another look told Zane that Ty wasn"t having fun anymore.
Ty pointed at Zane, then himself, and then jerked his finger upward. Ty wanted them both to surface. Ty waved at the air tank and swiped his fingers across his throat again, Zane glanced down at the discarded tank, and it clicked. Despite what the gauge said, the tank was out of air… just as Ty had been for some time now.
Zane nodded, but he caught Ty"s arm and tapped his own mouthpiece and then Ty"s chest. Zane just had to pull the strap off his equipment, and they could share the mouthpiece and the air.
It had worked in that James Bond movie. Why not now?
Ty nodded jerkily. He wasn"t flailing or panicking. Much like his reaction to dangling over the rock wall platform, he was maddeningly sedate. But he had probably been holding his breath for a while, and if the air tank hadn"t been full, there was no telling how much air he"d been able to get in that last gasp. When Zane got the mouthpiece free, Ty took it and hastily put it to his own mouth, breathing in deeply before handing it back and nodding.
He reached for the discarded tank and slung it back over his shoulders, his motions clumsy in the water. Then he pointed upward, Fish & Chips | 203
touching his watch with several slow, exaggerated taps. Zane nodded as he resettled his mouthpiece without fastening the strap and started swimming up toward the light. They had a long way to go.
But Ty wrapped an arm around Zane"s neck, pulling on him forcefully and shaking his head. His eyes were almost an aqua color behind the mask, the color of the sea and sun far above reflecting to play tricks with the light. He looked Zane in the eye worriedly as he stopped their progress, and they hung in the water together in the silence, an oddly peaceful moment in the midst of an emergency. Zane knew Ty was trying to tell him something important, but he just wasn"t getting it, and that worried him almost as much as his desire for them to get to the surface quickly.
Then Ty shook his head and tapped his watch again, each tap slower and more deliberate than the last before pointing upward again.
Zane frowned and shook his head as he clenched his fist in the water.
He knew getting frustrated wouldn"t help, but he hated not being able to understand.