Olympic Cove 2-Breaker Zone (7 page)

“That’s great. Any plans to try it out
in the Gulf of Mexico?”

Bythos smiled a bit. “Funny you should
mention that. That happens to be one of our test sites.”

“Good,” Nick said. “I grew up north of
Houston, used to go down to Galveston all the time. I know Texas didn’t get
hammered nearly as badly as Alabama and Louisiana, but we still had tar balls
and other crap washing up on the beaches.” He felt glum when he remembered the
stories of the oil spill’s effect on his childhood playground. “And that was
just the surface. I’m guessing things went all to hell under the water.”

“Pretty much, yes,” Bythos said grimly.
“But we’re hoping to remedy that situation in the coming years. In fact, Aph
and I were planning to head out to our test site in a couple of days. I’m sorry
we have to do it just as you’ve arrived, but—”

“No, it’s cool,” Nick said, holding up a
hand. “I already told Ian I don’t want to cramp his writing schedule, and I’m
definitely not going to bitch about you going off to work, especially on
something this important.” He frowned. “Speaking of which, I wanted to
apologize for just showing up out of the blue like that. If I’d known what was
going on, I would’ve gotten a hotel room somewhere.”

Bythos gave him a thoughtful look, grey
eyes narrowed. “I hope this doesn’t upset you, but Ian said that you were
involved with someone abusive who may try to injure you again. Is that
correct?”

A flare of anger boiled up, then sank
down again just as quickly.
Of course he
told them—I didn’t tell him to keep it to himself.
“Yeah, pretty much.” He
slumped lower in the chair. “I didn’t mean to bring any of this to your door. If
you want me to leave, I will.”

“Not at all,” Bythos assured him. “You’re
Ian’s friend. If you are in any sort of danger, I’d much prefer you remain at
the cove than take a hotel room in Olympic Beach. I assure you, no one can get
to you here.”

“Told you,” Ian said, coming in and
sitting next to Bythos. “This really is the safest place for you.” He grinned.
“Besides, if Barnard did lose his mind and come after you, you could always
whack him over the head with your big stick.”

Bythos’s eyebrows went up politely. “I’m
not sure if you’re being scatological or literal, love,” he said.

Nick groaned. “He’s being an asshole. I
found an interesting walking stick at an antique store this morning. The stick
was carved to look like the rod of Asclepius. That’s—”

“The physician’s symbol, I know,” Bythos
said. “Where did you find it?”

“The Lady’s Touch,” Ian offered.
“Heather called and said my Ne—my bracelet was ready for pickup. Nick came with
me, and he found the stick in the shop.”

“Really?”
Bythos leaned
forward, hands clasped on his knees. “I don’t suppose I could see it, could I?”

“Yeah, sure.”
Nick got up to
fetch his purchase, pausing when he stepped inside the guest room. He’d left the
staff propped up in the corner next to the bathroom door, but now it was
leaning against the bedroom window.

Did I move it
when I was changing? I must have.
Grabbing it, he took it into the living
room.
“Et voilà.”

Bythos’s eyes went wide. He leaned
forward even more, staring at the carved snake wound around the staff. “That’s
… quite a find,” he said, sounding slightly choked. “And Heather just sold it
to you?”

“Well, she didn’t want to at first, but
when I told her I was a doctor she changed her mind. Why?”

Bythos tried to smile. “Heather has a …
let’s call it a gift, for finding interesting items. Your staff definitely
counts as one of those.”

Ian, who had been studying the staff
with lowered brows, suddenly jerked. “Whoa! It’s—”

“Very realistic,” Bythos said, putting
his arm around Ian’s shoulder. Nick could see long fingers squeezing gently.
“You could almost imagine the snake moving, couldn’t you, love?”

“I—uh, yeah.”
Ian stared at
the staff again,
then
shook his head. “Wow. Uh, Nick,
why don’t you go put that in your closet?”

Nick held up the staff, frowning at it.
“Is something wrong with it?”

“No, no. I thought I saw the snake move,
that’s all,” Ian said quickly. “It was a hell of an optical illusion.”

“Uh huh.”
Cautious, Nick tapped
a finger on the green-gold body. It felt rigid.
“No,
definitely wood.
Maybe you better lay off the beer for the rest of the
night, buddy.”

“Yeah, maybe.
Just … put it
away, okay?”

“Okay.” He headed back into his room and
put the staff in the closet. When he came back out, all three of his hosts were
present. As one, they turned to him with wide, bright smiles.

He sighed. “Guys, this might be a good
time to point out that people lie to me all the time in my day job, so I’m
really good at telling when someone is trying to bullshit me,” he said. “What
the hell’s going on?”

Ian flushed. “I know this is gonna sound
stupid, but that staff just gave me the creeps,” he said apologetically. “I
mean, it really looked like the snake moved. And I’m not a huge fan of snakes
to begin with.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Well, don’t
worry, Indy. I put the big bad snake aw—”

Actinic light lit all the windows,
blinding them as a shattering peal of thunder boomed through the house. The
immense sound vibrated through Nick’s long bones, atavistically jump-starting
his flight or flight reflex.

He swallowed hard as the echoes died
away. “Damn. That was close.”

“Yeah, that was,” Ian said, concerned. “I
better go upstairs, make sure—” He broke off, look at his boyfriends. “Guys,
what’s wrong?”

Both twins had gone rigid, heads up as
if listening to something far off. Bythos broke the stasis first, jumping up and
sprinting for the kitchen. Aphros followed on his heels, both of them stripping
off their shirts as they ran. “Stay here!” the blue-eyed twin threw over his
shoulder.

Ian ignored the order and followed them,
Nick in his wake. They both reached the kitchen in time to see a now-naked
By
and Aph dashing out the back door, clothes strewn across
the floor.

Nick went to the window, staring at the
storm outside. He could just make out two pale shapes heading for the beach.
“Where are they going?”

“I’m not sure. Dammit, I should go with
them.”

He turned in time to see Ian yanking off
his own shirt. "What? Dude, you
cannot
go out there,” he yelped. “
They
shouldn’t be out there, for God’s sake.” A horrible thought occurred to him.
“Oh, Jesus.
Tell me they’re not going in the water.”

Ian grimaced. “It’s a long story, and I
don’t have time to explain it right now. I'm going after them.”

“The hell you are,” Nick snapped, moving
to the back door and blocking it. “It’s storming out there, plus it’s
nighttime. I don’t know what they think they're doing, but I know damn well
you’re not trained to swim in that kind of weather.”

The smaller man squared his shoulders.
“Get out of my way, Nick.”

“Make me.”

“All right.”
Hands suddenly
clamped onto his upper arms in an iron grip, and his forearms went numb as he
was lifted into the air, spun and deposited away from the door.

“Stay here,” Ian ordered, as if he
hadn’t just lifted someone five inches taller and fifty pounds heavier and
moved him like a sack of groceries. “If we aren’t back by morning, call the
sheriff’s department, ask for Jimmy Connors. Tell him I’m missing and you need
help. He’ll know what to do.”

He yanked open the back door, just in
time to reveal a naked, dripping Aphros. “Move,” the redhead said breathlessly,
pushing past him. An equally wet and naked Bythos came through the door next,
carrying—

Nick felt his eyes bug.
“Oh, my God.”

“Demigod, actually,” Bythos panted,
glancing down at the unconscious merman in his arms.

Chapter Three

Nick stared at the creature Bythos
carried. “That’s—”

“A mer.
Yes, I know,”
Bythos huffed, carrying the merman to the couch. He laid the creature down,
making sure to drape the tail smoothly over the couch arm. “He’s also injured.”

Nick automatically scanned the merman
for visible wounds. From the waist up, the creature looked like a fair-skinned
human male, leanly muscled like an Olympic swimmer, with a knotted thong neckband
around his throat.

From the waist down, however, it was a
different story. Instead of a human pelvis and legs, there was a large fishtail
covered in scales that shone blue-green in the overhead light. The tail ended
in a sweeping dark blue fin that almost trailed on the floor.

Nick dragged his gaze back up to the
merman’s face. Dripping, tangled hair covered part of it, but he could see a
straight nose and full lips underneath the wet strands.

The merman moaned softly, a webbed hand
reaching to what would have been the outer thigh on a human. Nick spotted the
short, slender rod protruding there, trailing a ragged metallic line. Dark red
blood crusted around the puncture, a few streaks oozing slowly across the merman’s
scales.

“Some fool shot him with a speargun,”
Bythos snarled. “The spear had a buoy attached, and he’s been dragging it all
day. I had to tear the damned thing loose.” He turned to Nick. “You need to
take out the spear.”

Nick gaped. “
What?
Why me?”

“You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

“For
humans
, yeah.
If the wound was
above his waist I’d know what I was doing, but I don’t know what the spear
hit—”

The merman moaned again, a soft,
exhausted sound. Cursing under his breath, Nick crouched down next to the couch,
still studying its occupant. “Jesus. Okay, I need to see if it’s a
through-and-through,” he said. “Can you lift his, uh, his bottom half a
little?”

Bythos leaned over, carefully sliding
his hands under the merman’s ass and lifting him. Nick crouched lower, peering
at the underside of the thigh area. “Yeah, I can see the arrowhead here. I’m
guessing there’s no chance in hell we can haul him into an ER?”

“No,” Bythos said shortly. “You’ll have
to take the spear out yourself.”

“Dammit. Ian, I’m going to need any
towels you don’t mind getting bloody and the brown leather bag in my room.” He examined
the spear again. “Do you have a set of bolt cutters here?”

“I’ll get them,” Aphros said, darting
out.

“Towels and
bag.”
Ian headed in the opposite direction.

Bythos had moved to the side of the
couch now, resting a hand on the merman’s forehead and talking softly to him in
a foreign language. The merman opened huge eyes that looked apple green in the
living room light, blinking them slowly.

“I’ve explained that you’re a healer and
here to help him,” Bythos told Nick. “He won’t hurt you.”

“Good to know,” Nick muttered. The entry
wound looked clean enough, and the metal of the spear was aluminum so there was
no chance of rust getting sucked into the wound. The relatively small amount of
blood oozing from the wound suggested that it hadn’t hit a major artery; if it
had, the merman would be dead already. He desperately wished he could have a
Radiology department take x-rays—or better yet, a CAT scan—to see what he was
dealing with. “You realize I have no clue about the anatomy here, right?”

“I know that, but we don’t have much of
a choice,” Bythos said impatiently. “If you won’t pull it out, I will.”

“No, you won’t,” Nick snapped. “I’m the
doctor here. I’ll do it.”

“Towels,” Ian said, jogging into the
room with an armful of terrycloth.
“And your bag.”

“Thanks.” He took a thick beach towel
and slid it under the merman, then opened his bag and fished out a pair of
nitrile gloves. “I think our best bet is to cut off the trailing end of the
spear as close to his scales as possible, then pull it out from the arrow end.
The shaft shouldn’t be barbed, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
Because if it is, there’s a damned good
chance I’ll rip open an artery in the process.
“Do either of you puke when
you see blood?”

“No,” Bythos rumbled.

“I’m good,” Ian said.

“Okay.” He spread out a hand towel and
laid out packages of sterile gauze, a suture kit, scissors and tape just as
Aphros appeared with a heavy duty bolt cutter.

Wordlessly, Aphros handed over the
cutter. “By, lean over and hold him down. He needs to stay still,” Nick said,
looking into the merman’s eyes and trying to communicate confidence. “Tell him
I’m sorry, but this is probably going to hurt.”

The grey-eyed twin spoke in that swirling
language again and the merman nodded, setting his teeth. Carefully, Nick
managed to slot the bolt cutter’s head a few millimeters over the merman’s
scales,
then
squeezed the handles together. The merman
made a guttural noise as the cutter blades sliced through the aluminum shaft.