Page 70 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 6

Matteo stared at the stealth craft before them. Like the other hundred or so docked coral gliders in the Black Anemone’s battery, it was made in the likeness of a gunmetal gray deep-sea skate. The rod of Asclepius, Greek god of medicine—man, he was a geek to actually dredge that kernel of knowledge from his memories—decorated the left fin. Elpis stepped down into her seat, so he followed her example and did the same, drawing the over-the-shoulder restraints in place afterward.

So far, so good. A console with buttons separated the space between both seats and a dozen unfamiliar buttons decorated the dash before them. They each had a steering column, but only one glowed with a soft blue light. He took that to mean it was active, and only one could be used to control the vessel at a time.

“You ready for this?” she asked.

“Uh.” He tugged his T-shirt up and glanced down at the green bruise spreading across his ribs, not missing the way Elpis darted her gaze to his exposed skin. He told himself it was the doctor in her examining a patient who had been under her care and not at all the feminine appreciation his masculine pride wanted to see.

The injury didn’t hurt as much as a fractured rib should, but he chalked that up to her magical healing dulling the pain and setting him on the mend earlier. “Doesn’t feel broken. I say we return inside and resume our combat training. I don’t really needto pilot an unusual underwater craft powered by magic, right?” He infused a joking tone into his voice. “You’ll let me back out, right?”

Of all the things anyone could call Matteo, cowardly wasn’t one of them, but his mood was a contradicting blend of anxiety and excitement, each amping the other, because he’d always wanted to pilot a machine built by the Atlantians alone but also didn’t relish the idea of being underwater without the benefit of diving gear. He needed a suit, a tank, the whole nine yards.

And then there was the fact that the human body wasn’t designed to survive at depths exceeding three hundred meters when diving. And the pressure. During the introductory speech Elpis gave them the previous night, she’d claimed that wasn’t a concern for them. Magic would compensate for the pressure changes.

“Fat chance.”

She reached up, flipped a few switches, and spoke her native tongue to someone through the comm system embedded in the dash. They replied, and then the coral glider shot down a translucent tube at an alarming velocity, slamming Matteo back in his seat like they’d jumped to light speed. Shit, maybe they had.

“Fuck!” he barked out, startled by their sudden emergence in the water.It was pitch black around them, the skies above their region of the Atlantic still dark.He glanced around, expecting to see the galaxy, or maybe the Death Star in hot pursuit.

Elpis snorted back a laugh. “You’ll get used to it.”

“The hell I will.”

Violet eyes shifted to him. She smiled. “You will. You told me not to underestimate you, remember?”

And she was cocky enough to throw his own words back at him, which left him at an odd crossroads of not knowing whether he wanted to loathe or love her wit. He chose the latter and forced himself to relax, thankful she didn’t use her magical siren voice to encourage it.

“Much better,” she murmured in approval. “It may seem complicated, but if you’re able to pilot the Salamander, this will be easy.” Fuck if he knew why it thrilled him to hear an ounce of praise from her, but the moment she touched his hand and guided it to the co-pilot’s steering column, an electric spark jolted down his arm, raced to his spine, and shot straight to his cock.

Fully erect in 3…2…1… Whoa! “Er, right. It took me years to learn that.”

“You’ll learn this in a day, or…possibly drown. Up to you,” she continued, promptly killing his erection as quickly as she’d inspired it. He both mourned and appreciated its loss.

“What?”

“The rest of your men will be undergoing a similar lesson, though yours will be the most…comprehensive by far. They’ll join us after Alohi is finished sizing them for breastplates and guards.”

According to Elpis, Atlantian engineers designed their vessels to be intuitive and easy enough for a child to pilot, since no one benefitted from an overcomplicated system, especially in the heat of battle. While she piloted their glider five miles toward the ocean bottom, he familiarized himself with the controls. She’d labeled every button, each lever, anything of interest that he might question.

“Are you ready to take over?” she asked.

“No, but I think—”

Elpis nudged a lever with her foot. The light on her column reddened, and Matteo’s flared blue.

“You didn’t just fucking activate my shit.”

“I did. Enjoy, and try not to crash us. Gliders are tough but not invincible.”

If the mermaid expected him to lose his shit and freak, he aimed to leave her disappointed—an unusual event in the life of Matteo Rossi, a man who prided himself on leaving no woman unsatisfied. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of this,” he teased, “but humans can’t breathe underwater. What happens if, you know, this visor cracks and water floods inside?”

“You drown.”

Oh. “Guess that means I shouldn’t fuck up.”

“I guess it does.” That magical smile remained on her face as she verbally guided him through lifting off from the ocean floor and navigating the rocky structures. There, they didn’t need the brightest headlamps, as the jellies shone in iridescent colors and emitted their own light. He marveled over the beauty for a time, avoided an enormous anemone, and rose higher. “Where are we?”

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