Page 76 of Hunters and Prey

Chapter 9

Two hours after departing the Black Anemone, Elpis led Matt down a lantern-lit street after visiting the Hellenic Reserve of Cyrene where GHOST team exchanged foreign currency for Atlantian coins. He hadn’t said much about the city while taking in the sights. All the roads were paved, bordered by smooth sidewalks, and tidier than photographs she’d seen of surface cities.

Then again, the humans of the surface didn’t have a dozens upon dozens of servant class mers willing to work for scraps and affection. She snorted, wondering if Princess Kailani would live up to her promise to abolish the lowest caste and the outdated rules of institutionalized slavery. Gods, she hoped so, no matter what chum her mother spoke about their future queen.Her parents had landed on opposing sides of the issue. Her father, a priest of the sea goddess Thalassa, thought no one should be raised in servitude. Her mother, a spoiled noblewoman, thought it was their right to be pampered.

“Gorgeous,” Matteo muttered, slowing down when he passed a twilit lantern that had been sunny yellow less than an hour ago. The magical lanterns simulated the skies above Cyrene’s waters and provided the same benefits as the sun. At the moment, they were fading from dusky shades of purple and orange, soon to become the silver-blue of moonlight.

They could have taken a carriage, but she wanted Matteo to receive the full experience, which meant traveling on foot to the major landmarks and their first stop of the night. After dinner, she’d hire a carriage to return them to the docks where they’d await the rest of the team at the appointed time.

Powell, Newsome, and Malcolm planned to visit a club downtown with Zeuxis and Lakona, and the other two made plans to go sightseeing, three of her eager Myrmidons serving as tour guides through the city. She’d been proud until she overheard mention of ending their tour at the Rosy Starfish. Then she’d just rolled her eyes.

A brothel. They were going to a brothel for the nobility-worthy treatment: massages and happy endings with enthusiastic mermaids. Literal happy endings, because those mers always took their jobs seriously and approached the act of sex like a forgotten art.

El sighed. Who was she kidding? Brothel or not, her Myrmidons still made her proud. At least none of them were married—even the two humans among them—and they had treated their surface friends with dignity and respect.She hoped to see some lasting friendships forged along the way, even if those alliances were born in the midst of an orgy in a dimmed Atlantian bath house.

At least it’s the best one in the city, she thought, pleased the group wouldn’t be chumming it with bored ladies who sprawled on their backs and threw their legs open until it was over. Some guys at the wealthier end of the caste spectrum liked to use the Rosy Starfish as a group bonding experience, enjoying drinks and a sensual dance performance while partaking in massages. And more. She had a relative who swore by the place. Then again, Uncle Dionysius regularly enjoyed taking a sea cucumber up his starfish.

Come to think of it,she was almost certain one of her guys and Matteo’s sergeant, Banks, had been gazing at each other with lusty eyes two nights ago in the crew berthing when she patrolled through. As a transfer from Pacificaandan inducted member of the warrior caste, Lakona wasn’t bound by the traditions urging El to settle on a noble husband, affluent merchant, orpriest. Preferably the priest. Both of her parents had made it very, veryclear they expected her to marry up, not down, as if remedying the ever-shrinking noble class was an obligation thrust wholly upon her uterus. Lakona was free to do what he wanted, and if he planned to take the hunky soldier to bed, she’d envy him but wish him well. He had good taste.

Not as good as her taste, but good enough. She stole a glance at the attractive man lending her his arm, unable to suppress the involuntary grin that slid over her face when she caught a passing merwoman checking out the goods with unconcealed interest. Matteo turned heads wherever they went, making her wonder what it was like on the surface where the women were free to pursue him.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, intruding on her thoughts.

“Nothing,” she squeaked out.

“Well, something is amusing you.” Matteo cocked his head and studied her face, green eyes sparkling with humor.

“Something is,” she said with an air of mystery, further amused by the fleeting worry that touched his eyes. “But I’ll only share if you promise to have an open mind.”

“I’m always open-minded.”

She told him their squad’s shared intentions and watched his brow crease beneath the few unruly curls around his hairline. Gods, she was dying to run her fingers through them to see how soft they felt.Oblivious to her admiration,he chuckled, the low and warm, the sound transitioning to a deep belly laugh that alleviated the tension knot in her chest.

“You’re not upset?” She’d read enough tales from the surface to know many humans didn’t share her kingdom’s views regarding sexual freedom.

His features softened.“No. Though I can’t say I’d ever visit one. I’m sure your Atlantian ladies are a true delight, but I’m not a fan of paying for it. Women come to me willingly and freely, or not at all. But my boys are young and single. I don’t blame them at all.”

“So are you.”

“Sweetheart, I’m far from young.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d said something that made her wonder about his age, but coming up on their destination distracted her. The Atlantian Museum of the Arts had come into view at last, built in the style of their oldest Hellenic temples with tall arches and marble pillars. General admission was free, but they paid for a special traveling exhibit from Atlantis. It’d be gone by the end of the season.

Inside, they traveled from one chamber to the next, admiring portraits and full marble figures sculpted with uncanny realism, gorgeous busts, and other works of art from mers, elves,and humans dead long ago. One of the things she liked about Matteo was that he didn’t rush. She read him the museum labels in English while he hung on to her every word.

“This way will take us to the Exhibit of the Arcane where the curators keep magical artifacts from all kingdoms. Some are cursed.”

After getting an eyeful of magical items from many cultures across the world, they meandered through the traveling exhibit dedicated to sunken mortal ships, an enormous room where a large section of the Titanic had been salvaged from the wreckage and contained in a bubble of water for preservation. The sight of the cabin was as haunting as it was beautiful.

Matteo slipped an arm around her waist. While the gesture struck her as casual and nothing more than what Manu and Cosmas, even Loto, had done in the past when sharing her company, it sent chills down her bare arms. She leaned a little closer, relishing the warmth from his body.

“Did you know that the Titanic’s tragedy led to changes in maritime law? Before that, humans had no true emergency plans to enact during catastrophic events at sea.”

Elpis glanced at the wooden sign and skimmed the text, delighted to find the same information printed on the exhibit’s label. “Really?” she asked, feigning ignorance, preferring the story from his lips. Gods, she’d listen to the man reading the dictionary. “What did they change?”

“The United States sent naval cruisers to monitor the Atlantic and search out icebergs, for one. Lifeboat regulations changed, and our government passed an act requiring twenty-four-hour operation of radio transmissions on passenger ships. Losing the Titanic affected the whole world, and other nations enacted laws of their own to prevent similar tragedies from occurring. I must have watched at least a dozen documentaries about it, but I never thought I’d see a true piece of the ship itself. Only recreations.”

“I wasn’t born yet when it happened, but my father told me about it. He said it was an awful time for mers local to the region, and Queen Ianthe felt terrible. She’d wanted to send out iceberg patrols, but the Council of Lords said they weren’t an Atlantian problem.”

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