Maxim turned his attention to giving Airiana a crash course in breathing with a tank.
9
AIRIANA had never been so terrified in her life. She wanted to be back on the ship, fighting a dozen armed men rather than swimming in a dark, cold ocean in the dead of night. She wasn't a strong swimmer. She wasn't even a swimmer at all. She didn't go into the water. She'd never learned to swim. She might put her toes in the water, but never her face. And she didn't breathe into tanks. She didn't know how.
You're psyching yourself out again. Just breathe the way I showed you. There was a trace of amusement in his voice.
She didn't find anything funny about the situation at all. This is insanity.
It's an adventure. Just keep moving.
She didn't have a choice. He had tied them together, hooking a line from his belt to hers. He was a strong swimmer and was practically towing her through the water. She did her best not to panic, but every so often she couldn't remember how to breathe and he would stop and hold her, talking softly in her mind and showing her how until the panic subsided and she could use the equipment.
Are we almost there? She felt like a little child in the family car asking every ten minutes when they'd arrive at their cross-country destination.
We've been in the water about ten minutes. You're asking me every ninety seconds. This time there was no mistaking the laughter.
There was no way that was true. She was certain they'd been hours in the water. She was so cold she couldn't stop shaking. And the terror didn't go away, it only increased the longer she was underwater.
I don't think you're funny. I want to surface. She knew she had a knife strapped to her suit and she was going to find the darn thing, cut herself loose and just swim without him to the surface.
She stopped kicking and felt her tool belt, searching for the knife. Instantly his hand clamped down on hers. She was always that little bit shocked at how strong he was. His arm circled her waist and he removed the knife from her hand.
Two more minutes, honey. That's it. I'm sorry I teased you. The sub's just ahead of us.
She clung to him for a moment, afraid she couldn't even last two more minutes. She just wanted to go home. To be in her house. Her bed. She wasn't the adventurous type.
Two minutes, Airiana. I promise.
She nodded her understanding and reluctantly let him go. He turned her in the direction they were swimming and set off again, using stronger strokes to cut through the water. She tried to do the same, mimicking his actions, struggling not to cry and to keep the air moving in her lungs. Her tendency was to try to hold her breath. It didn't help that tears clogged her throat and burned behind her eyes.
Can you see the lights just ahead?
She detested being such a baby. She should have learned to swim in spite of her mother's absolute panic every time they were near water. Marina had nearly drowned as a child and she'd never gotten over the fear. She'd never wanted Airiana to get even close to a large body of water.
I'm sorry, Maxim. I can't seem to overcome my fear of the water. She felt childish and silly beside a man who seemed to be able to do everything and do it well. You don't seem to be afraid of anything.
Of course I'm afraid. Maxim glanced at her.
She had no idea how afraid he was--of her, of what she was, of who she was. Meeting her and spending such an intense twenty-four hours with her had bound them together when already they had a strong connection. The thought of needing her, of craving her and becoming obsessed with her, was more terrifying to him than anything else he could imagine.
He could face anything, but caring about someone else to the extent he was beginning to care about Airiana was something so far out of his wheelhouse he wasn't certain what to do. She represented a home and family, and he had long ago, when he was a boy, lost those things.
Maxim?
Her voice was soft, brushing at the walls of his mind, finding its way into his heart. He knew weapons. He'd been shot and knifed and even tortured, but that soft voice was more powerful than any other threat he'd ever faced.
It's just ahead, honey. You can see the lights, he encouraged.
She stopped swimming abruptly, staring at the small submarine. There's no air underwater, Maxim.
That's not entirely true. There are gasses in the water and . . . He trailed off. She didn't need a science lesson and probably knew more than he did. What's wrong?
I can see patterns in the lights. There was fear in her voice. You're an air element, can you see them?
He could, and it didn't make him happy. Yes. Stick close to me once we're on board. The sub will take us to rendezvous with a ship your father is on.
The patterns suggest danger.
We're kind of used to that by now, aren't we? He kept his voice matter-of-fact.
He should have known that as an air element, she would catch warnings as well. It was the last thing he wanted her to see. She'd been through too much, and she still had to meet her father and listen to his proposal.
All along Maxim had feared that Theodotus wouldn't take no for an answer from his daughter. He might love her in theory, in his mind, but he didn't know her, and when it came to his work, he could be utterly ruthless. Her father would have no qualms about taking her back to Russia with him. He wouldn't even consider it a betrayal. He'd convince himself it was best for her, that he could keep her safe. In reality, he'd be using her brilliance for his own gain.
That warning was for both of them. Keeping his promise to Airiana wasn't going to be easy. We'll make it through this if you trust me. No matter what I do, trust me that I have your best interests at heart and that my goal is to get you back home, if that's your wish after speaking to your father.
They were at
the sub's hatch. He caught her wrist, holding her to him. Waiting. Her eyes searched his, there in the strange yellowish glow of the sub, behind the face mask. She nodded, slowly, almost reluctantly.
Maxim stayed very close to Airiana once aboard. They both stripped and he gave her the clothes he'd carried in the waterproof war bag that went with him nearly everywhere. She didn't protest that he didn't turn away from her as she tore the wet suit from her body. She didn't even look at him.
Airiana shook uncontrollably, and he took a towel and dried her body and hair as best he could before helping her into the soft sweats he'd brought along in her size, just for this purpose.
He dried himself off and then dressed, taking his time, giving her a chance to recover a bit before they faced anyone. When he was finished, he sank down onto the small built-in bench and pulled her into his arms, trying to warm her with his body heat.
"I'm exhausted," she admitted, and buried her face into his neck.
It was a sure sign of her weariness to actually allow him to hold her again. She'd been withdrawn from him ever since he'd announced what a mistake he'd made connecting them together in the Prakenskii ritual. That was sacred, something they all knew one didn't ever do unless it was right and lasting.
He'd carelessly marked her, not ready for such a thing himself and uncertain of what would really happen. Now he knew. He just grew more obsessed with her. That--and caring more for her. He lifted her in his arms and took her through the hatch into the narrow passageway.
"Maxim." One of the few men he ever acknowledged he felt friendship toward greeted him. "Is she all right?"
Valentin Blatov was older than Maxim by a few years and he'd tried to look out for the younger boys in the training school. Maxim had learned to distrust anyone friendly very early on, but Valentin had proved to be the real thing, a rarity among those teaching or the older boys who were given orders to make the younger boys stronger.
"She doesn't swim, Valentin," Maxim admitted. "She needs a warm bed and maybe something hot to drink. A little food. She'll be good."
"We'll get under way immediately. Any trouble?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle." He liked Valentin, but that didn't mean he would trust those children to him--or to anyone else but his brothers.