Lords of the Deep (32 page)

Millicent grabbed her hand before she could say anything else. Bowing as she did, Angie turned with her and walked briskly out of the room, refusing even to look in Basil’s direction.

Not that it took much effort. She was scared and she was pissed off.

She supposed if anyone else had gotten her knocked up she might have been in trouble anyway … maybe worse. It was hard to be ‘glad’ about it, though, when being pregnant with
his
grandson meant he thought he could tell her what to do and where to go and when to do it!

“Asshole,” she muttered under her breath when they’d cleared the gates of the palace.

“What does that mean?” Millicent asked curiously.

Angie glanced at her, thought about it, and grinned. “Actually, I use it pretty often, but I never really think about what it means. I just use it to vent.”

Millicent looked horrified when she explained it. After a moment, though, she grinned. “I think I like that word.” She thought it over. “Don’t say it around anybody else, though, especially in reference to you know who!”

Angie sighed. “You know that’s one the few things we still get to do where I’m from. When the president behaves like an asshole, we can say he’s an asshole.”

“I’m still not sure why you turned down his offer,” Millicent said once they’d reached her home again.

Angie shook her head. “I’m sorry if it offends you, Millicent, but Damien and Miles kept me a prisoner. There’s no point in trying to whitewash it. I was scared to death when Damien caught me and brought me here—for a long time, because I didn’t know what was going on or what they intended to do to me.

“Don’t get me wrong—they were good to me and eventually I realized that neither of them would hurt me—but they
still
took my freedom from me! I’m not staying here if I’m going to be caged. I don’t care how nice the cage is.

“Well, I suppose I do. If the king decides to throw me in a dungeon I’m not going to be happy about that. But I don’t want to be kept and watched while everyone
pretends
I’m not in prison because it doesn’t look like one!

“I know it’s a hell of a thing to ask for charity and then turn my nose up at what’s offered. But you and I both know he isn’t actually offering me a place to stay. He all but ordered me to stay when he sent that damned man to tell me they would consider me an ambassador and ‘hope’ I’d stay until the baby was born!

“If it wasn’t his grandson they would’ve either booted me out already or locked me up! And what he’s offering is basically the same thing—prison. A nice comfy prison where I’ll be watched until I deliver!

“I think I’m going to have to escape, Millicent.”

Millicent settled on a sofa and studied her. “I think you’re exaggerating,” she said finally. “I think you imagining a threat where there isn’t one. I thought you wanted to stay.”

Angie looked at her mournfully. “I don’t really know what I want anymore.” She sighed. “Yes, I do, but I can’t have what I want. And, that being the case, I think I’d be a lot better off going home. I can be miserable there, but at least I’d have my work … If I can find another job. I’d be able to look for a job and that would keep me busy until I found one.

“I thought, if he’d let me do my work, I could stay here and I’d still have something to do, but I can see he doesn’t want that. All I had to do was mention the damned squids and right off he decides I’d be off endangering his grandson! He’s not going to
let
me leave, either! Not when he feels like that about the baby.

“Maybe all of this sounds irrational and hysterical to you, but I don’t think so. And I’m afraid if I just wait around, hopeful, he’ll see to it that I can’t escape!”

“He’s not that ruthless,” Millicent disputed.

Angie gave her a look. “If he’s anything like his son, he’s that ruthless.”

Millicent looked distressed. “Supposing you did escape … how far would you have to go to reach your people?”

Angie looked around and finally settled in the chair across from Millicent. “Swimming? I don’t know. I’m a very long way from the U.S. … even U.S. territory where I might be picked up by a patrol boat. I think the city is fairly close to the shipping lanes, and I might be able to get picked up. If not, I’d just have to swim for the nearest land and hope they have a U.S. Embassy.”

Millicent cleared her throat. “You don’t actually have much chance of getting back to your home, do you?”

“Not much,” Angie said glumly.

“That’s not much of an alternative!” Millicent said with sudden anger.

Angie glared at her. “Think about it! Try to imagine you’re me and just think about it! If you had the choice of being imprisoned and slowly going out of your mind, or trying to get home where everything and everyone you knew was, what would you do? Settle for prison, or try to go home?”

“You have a baby to consider.”

“No, I don’t!
They
have a baby to consider! I have me! That’s all I’ve got … and maybe I’ll have a baby and maybe I won’t. I’m only a matter of, maybe, a week or two pregnant, and I’m human. The baby may or may not make it, whether I do anything or not! You think they’ll be happy with me if
that
little experiment doesn’t work? If I can’t carry it to term, what happens to me then? If it’s the only reason I’m welcome here, what happens to me if I lose it?”

“You don’t have a very high opinion of us, do you?” Millicent said stiffly.

Angie suddenly felt like crying. “I have a very high opinion of you. I’m very fond of you … and I love Damien and Miles. That’s three more people I care about that’s here than I have at home. But this is still a foreign land to me, and everything about it is foreign, unfamiliar. I believe I know what you and Damien and Miles would do, and I trust you, but I’ve no reason at all to trust anyone else here.

“And that man scared me, alright? He can do whatever he wants to and nobody can stop him. You heard what he said! He’ll let me know what he’s decided.”

“Wouldn’t your leader decide in your country?”

“No. I wouldn’t even see the bastard. They’d haul me down to immigrations and deport me. I might even have the option of becoming a citizen, but that’s very doubtful if I was in the country illegally. They’d take me back to where ever I came from, though. They wouldn’t just pitch me out and tell me to swim back! And, unless I was some kind of threat to national security, they wouldn’t keep me—long—in jail, just long enough to make arrangements to throw me out of the country, long enough to make me deeply regret coming at all.

“And, to tell you the truth, that actually doesn’t sound half bad at the moment.”

“Damien could take you.”

Angie stared at her for a long moment and finally swallowed against the painful knot of emotion in her throat. “I’ll never forgive you if you get him involved.”

“Why not? He’s the one that took you, after all! It’s his responsibility to take you home!”

“Because I’m not going to let him do anything that could cause him any trouble. I’m not willing to take the chance that he might go to jail for helping me.”

“But you are willing to take the chance of getting yourself killed?” Millicent said angrily.

“I’m going to try not to think about that part,” Angie said and then smiled faintly. “Luckily for me, I had the surgery. At least I can’t drown if I get tired! That’s a bright spot and a definite asset. I’d really feel better if I had a weapon in case I run into anything nasty … like sharks or giant squid. I’d have to have plenty of fresh water and food for several days—maybe a week or two. I don’t suppose you have a map that I could consult? I’d like to have some idea of what direction would be best.”

Millicent frowned. “The food and water wouldn’t be a problem. I’m sure I could get a map, but I don’t have a weapon. Do you know how to use a weapon?”

“Yes, point and shoot.” She chewed her bottom lip absently. “Too risky. If you don’t have one and you suddenly bought one it probably wouldn’t take Einstein to figure out it was for me and why I wanted it—besides getting you in trouble—and I don’t want you to get in trouble, either. Ditto with the map. I could go to the library, though, right?”

Millicent nodded, though she was obviously troubled.

“God!” Angie exclaimed on a sudden thought. “Clothes. I’d need clothes—something to put on. I don’t even want to
think
about what might happen if I had to stroll naked through some town! Or got picked up by some rowdy ship’s crew!

“And something to carry everything in.”

Feeling immensely better despite the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, Angie got up and went to search for what she thought she needed. Millicent followed her, searching her larder for packaged foods that wouldn’t take up much space. There was no compacting water, unfortunately, but Angie finally decided to take six quart bottles anyway. If she was careful with it, it could last her a long time—maybe a week if she really stretched it. She’d have to move fast, anyway, she reflected. If Atlantica encompassed the entire Atlantic, then she wasn’t going to get out of King Hadrian’s domain before she got where she was going. She didn’t know if he would send anyone after her or not. He might just let it go if she vanished … and he might get pissed off that she hadn’t waited around for his decision and send somebody after her.

Knowing his ‘type’—controlling—she thought he probably
would
and that being the case, she didn’t want to carry enough to slow her down too much. She was already handicapped. She couldn’t swim nearly as fast, or as far, as they could without stopping to rest.

She decided not to wait until the following day when she could visit the library.

She also decided not to tell Millicent. The less she knew, the better.

When she’d gathered everything together that she could, she set it in the bedroom she’d been using, including the waterproof pouch Millicent had unearthed for her. Smiling at Millicent, she hugged her. “Thanks! I know you’re worried, but don’t be. I can do this. Once I’m gone, I want you to tell Damien he owes you for all the stuff you gave me. You’re right. He is responsible. He can at least pay you back for all your help.”

“You’re my guest,” Millicent said a little stiffly. “I don’t need to be paid.”

“I’d really feel better if you’d agree to let Damien pay you back.”

“I’d really feel better if you weren’t determined on this hair brained trek that’s bound to get you killed!” Millicent said tartly. “Good night, Angie.”

Angie’s shoulders slumped when she’d left. She hated that she’d upset Millicent. It was going to haunt her, but she didn’t think it was hair brained.

Alright, it
was
hair brained, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t do it.

And it wasn’t as if she had a lot of options.

And, truthfully, she was almost as excited as she was scared to death.

She hadn’t allowed herself to think about going home since she’d been brought here because she was afraid she’d never get the chance to leave. Now that she’d allowed herself to hope she might succeed, she realized she really missed everything that was familiar.

Of course, there wasn’t
anybody
she missed. The only people that mattered to her were here and she would be leaving them, but it would a consolation to be home, to have a job, something useful and constructive to do with her life.

She might even have a baby—someone to love who would love her.

She wished it was Damien’s baby—or Miles’. She didn’t really regret that it was Basil’s. She thought, in fact, she could have fallen for him as easily as she had Damien and Miles—which made it a damned good thing that she wasn’t going to get the chance! Particularly if Millicent was right about him.

She moved to the bed after a while and settled to wait, listening until she heard Millicent go to her room and then waiting another hour. When she decided Millicent had had time to go to sleep, she got up and dragged the sheeting off the bed, holding it up to examine it. “Toga party,” she murmured, but at least it was something.

Folding it into as tight a bundle as she could, she stuffed it in the bag Millicent had given her, crept to the door, and then moved as quietly as she could to the kitchen. She would’ve far preferred a weapon that didn’t require getting up close and personal—a bazooka or a tank—a machine gun. A knife was better than nothing, though—not much, but it beat the hell out of bare hands.

When she’d let herself out and locked the door behind her, she scanned the street and then struck off in the direction of the nearest egress tunnel from the city. There were night patrols, but the city didn’t have a great deal of crime—unlike her dear old home town. She thought as long as she walked briskly and looked like someone with a place to go it wasn’t likely she’d be stopped. It was still relatively early in the evening, anyway, and there were plenty of other people out.

She was still shaky when she finally reached the egress tunnel. She’d seen at least a half dozen enforcers—fortunately none of them very closely.

She would’ve felt better with a map, but she had a fairly good sense of direction, a good memory for the coordinates they’d used to reach the area, and she knew the cardinal compass points.

She could still miss the island she had in mind as a destination, but water traffic was bound to be heavier the closer she got to land. It had only taken them the better part of a day to reach their destination by boat. She should be able to swim that far in less than a week since even a fast boat couldn’t move as many miles as a land craft and she could swim faster than she could walk.