Bride of the Sea Monster - Eve Langlais Page 0,30

at the sides, bikini bottom style. Nothing for the feet, though.

I noticed as we left the bathing chamber that everyone moved about barefoot, just like many others wore the same loose-style tunic as I did or a longer robe. Only the guards chose loincloths and brassieres. No one held guns the humans were so fond of. Swords, spears, and daggers appeared to be the weapons of choice here. I didn’t even contemplate stealing a blade. I’d be more likely to gut myself than someone else.

We left the strange catacombs and emerged into a building with windows looking out over the ocean. Dawn hadn’t yet risen, but already the sky lightened. The water appeared glassy and still.

It only confirmed what I knew. I’d been brought to Atlantis. The question was why? Why go through the trouble of kidnapping me from the boat and pissing off Ian when they could have just nabbed me when the ship docked? Speaking of which, it should arrive soon. Our itinerary had said that we’d dock just after dawn.

Craning even as they dragged me past, I searched for signs of a dock or a cruise ship shape on the horizon. My guards cut my gawking short, quick-marching me aggressively at the point of spears to a small bolted door that would allow one person through at a time, if that.

A soldier stood guard at it, more human in appearance than the ladies accompanying my fearsome self—I chose to take it as a compliment that I had two guards. The guards must have found the soldier attractive because they posed without blinking, mostly because I was pretty sure they had no eyelids.

I should have told them not to bother flirting. I didn’t see it going anywhere. We’d all be in the water soon. An ominous premonition that I couldn’t shake.

The soldier rapped sharply at the portal and then murmured by the seam. Someone replied, and they went back and forth in too low of a tone for me to hear. Whatever the words, it led to the door opening, and I emerged into what could only be a throne room.

And I was seriously jealous. Like what girl didn’t dream of being a queen with a crown made of the finest metal, the spires on it topped by large diamonds that refracted the light? My voice would boom as I ordered my soldiers to ransack a town that refused to obey. If someone dared protest, there were so many ways to make an example of them in death. I could rule—

Hold on. I blinked and frowned at my ability. Now is not the time to be screwing with me.

There is always time to plan oceanic domination.

For fuck’s sake. I turned my focus back to the throne room, which seemed much too tame a word. It deserved a loftier title like…intimidating place that has seen more blood spilled than a butcher shop.

My toes hummed, trying to drown me in images. I didn’t need to see them to feel the possibilities, many of them bloody, thrumming in the air. For a place known for its scholarly pursuits, Atlantis had a history of violence embedded in the very stone itself.

That said, it remained quite beautiful. The throne room was open to the air, which hinted at brine and sang with the caws of gulls. Pillars rose in a circle, their style Grecian in many respects. At one time, there might have been a glass dome overhead, a few ribs remained, joining the pillars.

It reminded me of pictures I’d seen of old Rome, with an influence of the sea from the seashells decorating everything to the actual building materials themselves. It took only touching the coral to see that it was all recycled, raked from the shores then crushed and mixed with a glue-like substance and shaped into building blocks. Tiles for the ground that interlocked and provided paths. Coral brick walls with doorways that used intricate shapes to mark them. Parts of the wall used multi-colored bricks, their pattern forming murals. I wasn’t given time to study them.

Prodded forward, we emerged from the small door midway in the space with no fanfare. Kind of disappointing. I would have liked to have strode through the massive portals at the far end of the room—at the head of an army, pointing to the usurper.

Which future had me reigning as a despot?

Let me run things for a while, and you’ll see.

I tucked the seeing away and glanced in the opposite direction of the door.