Two hours.
Every time Mari asked, Ambrose would say the same thing over and over again.
Two. Hours.
How long did it take to find an ancient city?
Two hours.
Soon after giving her another lecture on not treating the adorably dangerous Deimos like a lost puppy—he might as well have been, though!—Ambrose had tried to make her ride one of the dolphins.
“What about Deimos?” she’d asked, moving away from the dolphin. It had tittered around her excitedly, but the guilt she had felt over the poor creature was replaced by worry for Deimos.
“He’ll keep up,” Ambrose had said, nudging the rein at her again. She’d refused to take it. “Mari.” He sighed. “Just take the rein. He’ll keep up with us better than he would if he were on a dolphin.”
Mari frowned at him skeptically. “I don’t think so. Let’s just go on foo—tail. Tail. We don’t need the dolphins. Plus, Deimos might feel left out!” At that point, she’d swam back to Deimos, who had looked completely uninterested and completely unaware that they were talking about him.
When he’d growled at her, she had cooed. “Look at him, Ambrose! He’s just so sad, and all alone. We can’t just let him trail behind us like that. No,” she said sternly, pointing a finger at Ambrose. “We are not taking the dolphins if he cannot have one of his own.”
“Mari, he would eat the dolphin.”
She gasped, covering Deimos’s ears. “Don’t say that! The more you say something, the more likely it is to happen. Trust me, I dealt with children like this all of the time back in Westview. Their parents had no faith in them, so they had no faith in themselves. It’s our jobs to restore that faith!”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sweet Atlantis, you’re going to be the death of me.”
Mari glared at him, still keeping her hands over Deimos’s ears. She heard a low rumble right before Ambrose grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her away. “Don’t do that! You’re going to make him feel even more excluded! It’s like you don’t trust him,” she whispered angrily, trying to make sure Deimos didn’t hear her.
“Mari. He is not a pet. He is not an Atlantean we can trust. He is not human. He has no brain of his own. He cannot speak. He is not safe. So stop with the obsession and let me protect you, damn it! You’re going to slip up and he’s going to rip you to shreds. What about this do you not understand?”
Mari stared at Ambrose.
“You just yelled at me.”
Instantly, the anger left his eyes and his face dropped. “Mari, I—”
“You just yelled at me,” she whispered, backing out of his hands.
“I don’t want to see you hurt. The past hour you’ve been flitting between me and Deimos, and each time you go near him, he turns into a rabid eel. He doesn’t know whether to kill you or zap you, and since he’s been told not to, he might end up maiming you.” His voice was rough, the guilt in it making her heart thump a little.
Ambrose was serious about this.
For whatever reason, he refused to see the good in a lonely creature.
“I understand,” Mari said lightly, patting his shoulder. “But you realize... If I weren’t so me, you wouldn’t be free right now, or even talking. Ceto would be all over you. All Deimos needs is a little care.”
He shook his head at her. “You really don’t understand, and I don’t think you will. Atlanteans and gods are different than your mortals. If we have no soul, then we have no soul. There isn’t an in-between. Whatever the gods did to him? They took whatever rationality he had left and ripped it from him. He’s a soulless killer. He doesn’t know right from wrong. And he never will.
“Turn around, Mari. Just turn around and watch him.” He didn’t give her a choice. Grabbing her shoulders gently and turning her around, Ambrose held her firmly against him, and kept her there.
“Do you see his eyes? Do you see how postured he is? He’s dead inside, Mari. There’s no going back.”
She did see. For the first time, she took a minute to actually look inside.
Deimos stood there completely still. He didn’t move. His shoulders were back, his eyes impassively roaming over the land, and the scars that were wrapped around his hips, chest, neck, and arms were glaringly noticeable.
His head snapped around just then, and she flinched. Like an animal. He had sensed them looking at him like an animal would. There was no curiosity in them, no confusion. Just awareness and a blazing gaze of pure red that had a chill running down her spine.
Deimos was nothing like she had thought of him. He wasn’t just some child that was lost and needed guidance. What Ambrose said was true.
All humanity had been stripped from him.
He was like a huge, fluffy grizzly bear with scales instead of fur!
“Do you see it? Do you understand why I’m worried about you?”
Mari turned around, nodding, a smile fitting over her face. “On the surface, we have these things called ‘bears’.”
“Bears?” he asked, beginning to frown. The look on his face told her he didn’t like where this conversation was going.
“Yes, bears. Now these bears... Well, they are big, they have claws, and they like to eat fish. Lots and lots of fish. They are naturally wild, but,” she said, holding up a finger, “they can be tamed. Enough that you can play with them, teach them things, and become friends. Do you know who reminds me of a grizzly bear?”
Ambrose groaned.
“Deimos. He’s a big, fluffy bear that went from a bad circus to a good circus!”
“I cannot believe—”
“All he needs is love and affection,” she said firmly, covering Ambrose’s mouth with her hand. “If you don’t want to be there for him, I will.”
“Gods damn it,” he growled around her hand, glaring at her.
“So say sorry for yelling at me,” she demanded, keeping her hand over his mouth.
A look of shame flashed over his face before he took her wrist gently, pulling it away from his face. “I’m sorry for yelling. But, Mari, you can’t just treat him like a pup—”
“Of course I can!” She beamed at him. “He’s like a beat up dog that you found on the street. When he trusts you, he turns into your best friend. Watch, when we get to Atlantis, I’ll have Deimos acting like the most civil being you’ve ever encountered—“
“We’re less than an hour and a half away!” he said, exasperated. “You can’t change a killer in that amount of time.”
“Well, I can try,” she muttered, casting a glance at Deimos. He had turned his attention away from them. Once again, his eyes were roaming over the area. He followed behind them dutifully with his blade out and eyes sharp.
She caught his glance, and he snarled.
Mari waved happily.
“One day you’re going to do that, and he’ll bite your hand off,” he grumbled, shooting a dark look between her and Deimos.
“Oh, quiet. Hey, Ambrose, I have a question.” She faced forward, picking up her pace a little.
“Yes.”
“I can’t stop thinking about what the guys said back there. About my tail. Why did they think I was a god?”
He was silent for a second. His eyes flickered over her tail before he faced forward, shrugging. “Males like that do not often see gorgeous woman,” he said lightly, before his face flushed darkly.
“Wait, what?” she asked, eyes wide. Surely he hadn’t actually said that…
“Nothing,” he said quickly, picking up his speed and getting in front of her. Mari frowned, chasing after him.
“No, what did you say?” she demanded, grabbing his arm to stop him from moving. His skin was hot under her touch, and she noticed that the blush had spread all over his body.
Okay.
So he had said that.
Mari smiled, forgetting about Deimos completely when Ambrose stopped awkwardly in front of her. The look on his face was absolutely adorable. The flush was the deepest red she had ever seen in her life, and he avoided looking at her. He even went as far as to turn his head away.
“Ambrose,” she murmured.
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“That you’re…different. From other Atlanteans. The males had never seen anyone like—“ He stopped, coughing. His hand scraped over his face roughly.
Coming from in front of them, a school of tropical colored fish swam around one of the many boulders, splitting a wide girth around Mari and Ambrose. Mari barely noticed except for the vibrant flash of color, though. Ambrose slowly turned his head, staring at her.
“Go on,” she urged, sliding her hand down his arm and slowly threading her fingers through his.
It was not the perfect time. It was not the perfect place. It wasn’t even the perfect couple. But it felt perfect, and it felt exhilarating, and it felt needed.
“You,” he finished. His voice was deep, rough. It sent a shiver of desire through her body, made her eyes stray to his lips. “I don’t think anyone under the sea has seen anyone like you.” He paused, swallowing.
His head lowered slightly, and her heart rate kicked into overdrive.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, before his lips touched hers in one of the most gentle, most precious kisses she had ever gotten. He pulled back slightly, leaning his forehead against hers. “You’re perfect.” Another light brush of his lips. “You’re the kindest being I have ever met.” Another one. “And when we get back to Atlantis?” He cupped her jaw. “I’m taking it back for you.”
Mari melted right then and there. Just completely melted. With her heart in her throat, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed the living daylights out of him.
Ambrose’s lips moved over hers, forging a fire like none she had ever felt before.
It danced along her skin, invaded her soul, made her want to weep with how powerful it was. Ambrose was slowly taking over every thought she had, replacing every bit of reality she had ever known.
As their kiss turned hotter, harder, and more demanding, she swore nothing could have taken her away from that moment. She wrapped her hands around his neck, trying to drag him closer to her. He groaned into the kiss, stroking the fire.
Oh, god—
She nearly missed it. The rush that came from behind her. The sound of a slash being made, the sound of something creaking. She was too immersed in Ambrose to notice that Deimos had come up behind her, taking a defensive stance.
It wasn’t until Ambrose pulled away with a harsh curse that she slowly became aware of her surroundings, of what was happening.
In a second flat, Deimos and Ambrose had her covered, front to back, and both of them had weapons out and both of them were on the defensive, ready for attack.