Seaborne (16 page)

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Authors: Katherine Irons

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy, #Chick-Lit, #Mythology

BOOK: Seaborne
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She wasn’t ignorant of her condition. The doctors had warned her of possible blood clots in her brain … of hallucinations and seizures. It was why she could never legally obtain a driver’s license. It was why being paralyzed from the waist down was the least of her problems.
There were also the foreign substances that remained lodged in her brain, pieces of metal too deep and too dangerous to remove by surgery, objects that could move and kill her in an instant. Is that what had happened? Had her fears for Morgan been only the movement of a minute shard of metal? Would her condition now become worse? And if there was that possibility, it would be wrong to take on the responsibly of a child. It wouldn’t be fair to bring a baby into her damaged world, would it?
“Morgan!” she shouted again. “Where are you?”
Please, please,
she begged silently.
Please come to me. Take me under the water with you. Hold me in your arms. Keep me safe.
“Claire?”
She turned, hoping against hope that he was here with her. But even as she twisted in her chair, she realized that the man striding toward her wasn’t Morgan but Justin. Her heart sank.
“What on earth are you doing here?” he demanded. “Your father and I have searched all over the house for you. Haven’t you noticed the storm moving in? We’re in for a gale, a bad one, according to the weather channel. A child was caught in the undertow this morning and swept out to sea not far from here. It was all over the news.”
She blinked. “A storm?” She swallowed. Yes, the wind had risen. Dark clouds raced in from the northeast, and the beach was free of birds. White caps churned and crashed against the shore. “I … I hadn’t noticed.”
“Do you know what time it is? You missed dinner. Mrs. Godwin thought you were sleeping, so we didn’t disturb you.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You feel warm to me, Claire. I hope you aren’t feverish again.”
It was after dinner? She tried to grasp the loss of time. She must have been down here for hours. Her migraine had faded, but she felt oddly disoriented. She could feel the tight prickle of sunburn on her face and arms. Had she even bothered to apply sunscreen? Surely, it hadn’t been this dark when she last noticed.
“Are you all right? You look confused.”
“No, I think I dozed off.” She forced a chuckle. “I suppose I lost track of time.”
“Another seizure more likely.” He pushed her chair down the walk toward the elevator. “We’re calling your physician, and I won’t take no for an answer. You’ve got to take better care of yourself.”
She glanced back over her shoulder at the ocean. Was he out there somewhere? Would he ever come to her again? Or had it all been a wonderful and terrible illusion?
CHAPTER 16
A
s the hours after the battle with the shades passed and Morgan showed no signs of recovery, Alex and Orion’s fears for his safety grew. Not only was their brother’s condition growing worse, but the child he’d sacrificed so much to transform from human to Atlantean was failing as well.
Far above, the waves whipped to storm heights, crashing against the rocks of nearby islands, and driving vessels from the sea. The whales dove deep, and the birds took shelter amid trees or craggy outcrops. Gale winds howled and the water churned from blue-green to inky black, while below, all remained calm and quiet.
Alex had carried Morgan into the shelter of a tall seaweed jungle. Nothing moved here but summer flounders and a single juvenile lobster, all more concerned with hunting dinner without becoming one. Rough water on the surface mattered little on the ocean floor, but Morgan was better protected here from schools of marauding sharks and other predators.
He and the child lay side by side on a cushiony bed of sea grass. She remained restless, only half conscious, tossing and crying out as if she was in pain. Morgan lay like a stone. Since they’d carried him from the site of the struggle, he hadn’t stirred.
“If we’re not careful, we could lose both of them,” Orion said. “He’s obviously in no condition to give her the strength she needs to survive the process. I think one of us should take her to Atlantis.”
Alex nodded. “Yes, Mother will know what to do with her. She has a soft heart. She’d defy Poseidon to see that the girl gets to the temple for care. And it will take more than healing her body. To be merciful, it’s best if she forget everything in her old life.”
“I agree.” Orion glanced at the child. She no longer looked human, not entirely, but neither was she Atlantean. Her gills were rudimentary, and her fins nonexistent. Her color was a pale green. It was a wonder that she hadn’t drowned. “Do you think he fully realized what he was taking on? That he’d be responsible for her for the next eight hundred years? I could never picture Morgan as a single father.”
Alex sighed. “I was tempted to do the same. It’s hard to see little ones die senselessly. Even humans.”
“But you didn’t do it, did you?” Orion paced in frustration. “How long has it been since anyone’s done this? Transformed a human? Centuries? No good will come of it, I promise you.”
Alex bent over Morgan and pressed a hand to his brother’s brow. “I think he’s worse. He needs more than we can give him, and he needs it now. He wouldn’t live to reach Atlantis.”
“If we delay, she’ll die. And if we try to move him, we’ll lose him. What option do we have?”
“You take her,” Alex said. “Shar-nehey-wah isn’t far. I’ll take him there and beg mercy from the serpent-folk.”
Orion looked unconvinced. “Shamans’ Caverns? Good luck with that. The serpent-people would as soon see him gull food on a mud flat as to share their healing secrets.”
“They’re unfriendly to our kind, I’ll give you that. And theirs is a primitive society, but their medicine is powerful. If I can persuade them to help, I think he’ll have a better chance than just sitting here and hoping he’ll recover on his own.”
“Or die. But you don’t expect me to take the child back to Atlantis? You’re the one who’s good with young things. What am I going to do with her?”
Alex glanced from Orion to the girl. He was torn between doing his best for the half-human child and staying here with his brother. Orion was right. He was better with young ones than he was, but he’d have to manage. “Keep her alive until you get her to Mother.”
“And how much do I tell the queen? You know how she is. She’ll want to know where Morgan is.”
“Tell her the truth. Go now. We don’t have much time. Look at Morgan’s color. He’s fish-belly white and barely alive. Spending all that time on the surface with that human woman didn’t help. His life force was already depleted.”
Orion hesitated. “What if the youngling dies on the way back to Atlantis? Why do I have to be the one to take her?”
“Because you don’t have the faintest clue how to speak serpent.” Alex felt bad about this. No matter which task he took on, the possibility for failure was present.
“Right.”
“Have faith, Brother. Whatever it takes, you’ll get her there alive.”
With a grimace, Alex gathered the little girl in his arms and passed her to his brother. “Go, and go quickly. Take the shortcuts. Use any means you can to get there fast.”
“I’ll do it,” Orion grumbled. “I’ll be back as soon as I can with reinforcements.” His jaw tightened. “It’s all the fault of that human. If she hadn’t—”
“Morgan should have known better, but when did he ever take the easy path?”
“Take care of him,” Orion said. “If anything happens to him, I’m next in line for the throne, and that’s one honor I’m not seeking.”
Alex nodded as he picked up Morgan. “Either of us, Orion. Either of us.”
“You’re ill,” Richard said to Claire. “And being here so long, squirreled away like some recluse, hasn’t helped your mental outlook. What were you thinking to sit down there on the beach for hours? Look at your face. You’re sunburned and dehydrated. When the doctor comes, I’m going to ask him to give you a sedative.”
“I don’t need a sedative,” Claire protested. “And I think I know whether I’m ill or not. Maybe I just wanted to be alone to think.”
“Or maybe you were expecting that con man again. I’ve asked Nathaniel to keep an eye out for him. If he shows, Nathaniel has instructions to forbid him entry to the property.”
“You have no right to say who can and can’t come to my home,” she answered hotly.
“Yes, I do. When your safety is concerned, I do. You’re not capable of managing your affairs. I want you to return to the city with Justin and me. Justin’s told me that he’s asked you to consider marriage counseling. It sounds reasonable to me. I think you should go.”
Claire’s stomach clenched. Her headache had returned, and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and sleep for twelve hours. Instead, she had to deal with the physician that her father had called, and she had to contend with both Richard’s and Justin’s insistence that she leave Seaborne.
It wouldn’t do to lose her temper with Dr. Chou, the young physician that Richard had engaged to come to the house. She couldn’t imagine how much her father must have offered the man to come out in a nor’easter for less than an emergency.
But Dr. Chou was on his way, and if she appeared less than competent, who knew what the three of them would do? She’d not give them an excuse to treat her like a mentally challenged patient. She’d asked Justin if he intended to put her into an institution. Now, if she weren’t careful, it might be Richard who took that step.
She forced herself to eat the chicken soup that Mrs. Godwin had prepared for a light supper, and she’d drunk a glass of orange juice and a second one of water. She finished her meal with a fruit salad and an almond cookie, none of which she wanted. But when the young Dr. Chou arrived, soaked through despite his all-weather slicker, her vital signs were good, her temperature and blood pressure were normal.
Actually, she liked Chou. In a parade of doctors—she’d seen so many over the past two years that she’d lost count—he was both competent and reasonable. He’d prescribed rest, liquids, and a sensible diet. He promised to call again in a few days.
After Dr. Chou’s departure, Claire turned her attention to her father. “You’ve made your point. I think you may be right.”
“About what?” Richard asked suspiciously.
They were in her bedroom suite. Where Justin was at the moment, she didn’t know and didn’t particularly care. Richard was enough to deal with. “I’m going to consider Justin’s proposal,” she blurted out. “Not marriage. I’m not going that far yet, but I will think about it. It would mean a big change in my life, and I’d like privacy to decide what’s best.”
“You’re asking us to leave Seaborne?” He glanced toward the windows where needles of rain drove against the glass panes and the shutters banged and groaned in the onslaught of wind. “In this?”
“No, not in this,” she said. “When the storm passes.”
“It could last three days. The roads may be impassable.”
“Dr. Chou got through.”
“He was driving a Land Rover. And he nearly got stuck a mile from the driveway coming in.”
“You know I wouldn’t throw you out in the middle of a storm.”
“Well, that’s something. I’m glad to hear it.” The lights flickered, and something crashed and rattled across the patio below.
“Now who’s being juvenile?” she asked. “I need time to think.”
Richard’s face fell. “I never thought the day would come when I’d be unwelcome in your home.”
“You know I love you more than anyone on earth. It’s just that with the two of you here, I feel … bullied.”
“Bullied?” He cupped her cheek with his hand. “How could you ever believe that I—”
“For starters, you brought Justin here against my wishes.” Another gust of wind hit the house and the lights blinked out and then came back on in seconds.
“Why you want to live here so far from civilization is beyond me,” he said.
“Don’t change the subject. Both of you would like to wrap me in swaddling cloth and tuck me into a rocking chair. It’s my life, Richard. As messed up as it is, I have to figure this out for myself.”
“All right, we’ll leave as soon as the roads are passable. But I want you to call me. Every day. And if I don’t hear from you, I’ll be on a plane back here ASAP.” He frowned. “And I want you to agree to fly to Switzerland and be evaluated at the clinic.”
“One demand at a time,” she said. “Isn’t that what you always taught me?”
“You’re insufferable. You always were. I’ve spoiled you rotten and now it comes back to slap me in the face.”
She ignored his whining. “A few days, maybe a week. Justin knows of a young woman who’s seeking adoptive parents for her unborn child. If I’ll marry him, he believes we can be that couple.”
“A baby? Do you really think your health would allow—”
“That’s something I need to consider, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you like to be a grandfather?”
“It’s not something I’ve given much thought.”
A knock at the door caught Claire’s attention. Mrs. Godwin entered with a kerosene oil lamp and a flashlight. She placed both on the nightstand beside the bed. “Just in case,” the woman said. “We do have the generator, but that could fail too.”
“I doubt it,” Claire said. “It never has.” If there was a power failure, the generator could be activated by flipping a switch in the utility room. Newer models were automatic, but this one was large, dependable, and expensive.
“Always a first time.” The housekeeper glanced at Claire’s father. “Mr. Justin wants you to know that he’s retired for the night.”
“Thank you,” Richard said. He looked at the door pointedly. “It’s late. You probably want to get to bed as well.”
She nodded. “Breakfast at nine, sir?”
“Yes, thank you,” Claire said, dismissing her. When they were alone, she looked back to Richard. He’d pulled up a chair and taken a seat.
“Have you ever thought of marrying again?” she asked him.
“God, no! Why would you ask that after all these years? One wife like your mother was enough. Why would I want to put myself through that again?”
“My feelings exactly,” Claire said. “I know Justin all too well, and the only reason I’d ever consider remarrying him would be to adopt a child. My life feels so empty, that the trade-off might be worth it.”
Claire woke to the sensation of being carried. For a moment, she was certain she was dreaming. Her eyelids felt heavy, almost impossible to open. Around her, she could smell the sea. Salt air blew against her face. Hope surged in her chest. “Morgan?”
No answer.
Strong arms held her. She felt the surf rise over her legs and waist and breasts. She steeled herself for a rush of water in her mouth, but it didn’t come. Instead, she found herself swept along in the powerful grasp of a blue man. Fear mingled with awe.
She blinked, wanting to pinch herself. This wasn’t the way the dream was supposed to go. “Morgan, wait,” she said.
But the eyes that stared into hers weren’t Morgan’s. The handsome face wasn’t his. And the touch of his skin against hers was that of a dangerous stranger. She began to struggle, and immediately had the sensation of choking. She gasped and cried out.
“Be at peace,” rumbled a deep voice. “You’re in no danger.” She wasn’t hearing it, not as she did Morgan’s familiar timbre. Rather, she heard the words in her mind, each word carefully enunciated.
“Who are you?” she demanded.
“Shh, shh, it will all be clear soon enough. Trust me.”
Trust him? She pushed against him, but his arms were like steel bands. His hands … Sweet Mother of God! For the briefest space of a moment she was sure she saw webbing between the fingers of his large, beautiful hands. This is a dream, she told herself. I’m dreaming. Morgan didn’t come back, so I’ve dreamed up another one.

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