Fathom (Mermaids of Montana #3) - Elsa Jade Page 0,23

that you might return to the estate? Or I can leave you here.” He slanted a quick glance at her. “Not imprisoned, just waiting until I return.”

She stared at him. “Why are you going to the exodus ship?”

“Maelstrom and Ridley were not able to retrieve all the specimens from stasis. And since I’m here, I should check on the status anyway.” No sense bothering her with the question of intruders when he didn’t know the answers. “But I’ll be traveling via the aqueducts. It might not be comfortable for you.”

She lifted her chin. “I’m not afraid of the water or allergic to it like Ridley and Marisol,” she reminded him.

“You’ll have to hold on tight,” he warned her. “Even tighter than before. And we’ll need to go faster, so I won’t be able to keep the water as warm for you.”

“The Diatom has some emergency e-suits. That should be protection from the cold and water.”

Why did she want to go with him? She didn’t trust him not to abduct her, so why did she even care if he left unannounced? Maybe she just wanted to see the lost ship from whence her ancestors had come.

Without waiting for his agreement, she opened one of the hatch lockers, her obvious familiarity with the layout a reminder that she’d stolen the Diatom off Tritona as easily as he’d taken the Cretarni ship. Truly, she was a worthy threat.

She grabbed one of the simple environmental suits used in the case of ship damage. As she wrestled with the tight material, he reached out to steady her.

“Don’t touch me,” she warned.

“I’ve touched you several times,” he reminded her. “You haven’t killed me yet.”

“Yet,” she said darkly.

Strange how he kept thinking yet too.

Deliberately, he closed his hand around her elbow while she struggled into the suit. No zaps. Maybe because she was distracted. Maybe because she wasn’t feeling threatened.

Maybe because she appreciated the support, even if she rejected it with her words?

The dark gray material was not as sleek and supple as his battle skin, but it would protect her well enough for their journey. He gave her a short nod as she straightened, letting his hand fall away. He flexed his fingers to empty the sensation of her soft warmth that somehow reached him even through the artificial texture of the e-suit.

“No zapping,” he noted.

“I don’t want to,” she said with a defensive pout. “But sometimes I can’t stop myself.”

“Did you know that Tritonans can drown?”

“What?” She jerked straighter.

He nodded once at the surprise in her voice. “Although we can breathe underwater, we need to purge our lungs occasionally or the tissues absorb too much water, swell, and no longer function. If you zap me and I lose consciousness, I could die.”

She blanched. “If you’re trying to scare me into controlling myself, you’re going to get us both killed. I already told you I can’t control it.”

“The war taught me that sometimes having no choice is the best incentive.”

“And sometimes in war people just die,” she snapped. “But that’s over now.”

Depending on the identity of the other ship, she might be very wrong.

Digging through one of the storage compartments of his battle skin, Sting extracted a small pouch and held it out in his open palm. But he didn’t extend his arm completely—to accept the offering, she’d have to step closer. “If you want to go with me, you’ll need an external gill.”

Since Tritona was seeking immigrants like the part-Earther females who might or might not breathe water, every Tritonan now carried an extra gill or two. Sting had dutifully accepted the negligible weight, never thinking he might actually need it. Because who would ever want to accompany him to the deeps?

Certainly Lana seemed undecided at the moment. Her brow furrowed as she fastened the central seal of her e-suit, hiding away those intriguing curves and hollows he’d admired. “I know you have a tow rope,” she muttered. “Maybe that would be safer.”

He shook his head. “Over the distance we have to go, the drag would be unacceptable.”

She eyed him. “Are you saying you’re not strong enough? Or are you saying I’m too big?”

He straightened to his full height to stare down at her. “You are very small and I am very strong.”

“Then who cares about the drag?”

He’d walked right into her trap. And it had been a very simple trap. Maybe the failure should embarrass him, but he’d never claimed to be a strategist like Coriolis or a leader like Maelstrom. He should not