Page 13 of Taken By Fury
Suddenly, everything changed, and she had to blink several times to make certain she wasn’t hallucinating. Gowns were now jeans and shorts mixed with an array of tops from tanks to sweaters.
“This place is a freaking miracle.” She pulled open a drawer to find all the undergarments a girl could ever need. Not wasting time to be picky, she started grabbing clothing and shoving items into the backpack that had been set in the corner. Once it was full, she changed into shorts and a tank, then tied a sweatshirt around her waist. The climate here was comfortable, but she had no idea what lay outside. After donning socks and a pair of hiking boots, she headed for the door. Popping it open, she peeked out and found the corridor clear.
“Let’s see if I can find my way out of here.” She was excited to discover more of what Atlantis offered.
She stepped into the hall and wondered what made her think she could sneak out without getting caught. Would Zander really be able to track her? It was a chance she was willing to take because she was going to call his bluff on this blood-bond thingy he claimed to have. Besides, no one said she couldn’t wander around.
With footsteps as quiet as she could manage, Sheila made it to the end of the corridor, which opened up to another, but she had to decide which direction to go.
“Which way did we come from when Aimee brought me here?”
She was pretty sure it had been the left, so she chose right since she didn’t want to chance a run-in with anyone. Plus, there seemed to be a lot more light coming from that direction, so she hoped that meant a quick retreat outside. Her choice had been correct because she walked into a vast open space of stone floors and several sunken circular seating areas filled with turquoise and sapphire pillows. The area was a burst of bright colors with murals on the walls of local sea life and it made her feel oddly at home. While she wanted to stay and explore the warmth and light that came from… Well, she had no idea because above her was a regular stucco ceiling and not a damn lamp in sight. It was as if sunlight simply streamed in by magic.
“I would love to know the magic behind this place.” But she didn’t dare stick around. So, she got moving, trying her best to tiptoe across the hard floor in hiking boots which, in the silence of this sacred world, sounded more like an army on the march. Somehow, she got across the room and to an open archway that led outside without detection.
Once outside the palace, it was still difficult to believe she wasn’t visiting a foreign island paradise. Technically, she was, but this was under hundreds of feet of ocean, yet there were gardens with its rainbow of colors and scents. Large palms offered mottled shade against a sun that seemed to come from nowhere yet was everywhere. There were also fruit trees, so she reached up and plucked a plum. She sniffed first before taking a small bite and was delighted at the sweet taste. After a quick glance around, she made her way through the gardens and wondered where everyone was. She knew the king and queen lived here, as did their protectors, and she understood that several of their people who had been rescued did as well. Was it possible she was alone here? Had they all left to go back to land, so to speak?
Panic started in her gut then rose to her chest, constricting her lungs as it went until it stopped as a lump in her throat. She took a deep breath. If she was alone, then so be it. All the better, as then she could explore to her heart’s content. The city itself didn’t seem to care, since nothing restricted her movements. With that thought in mind, she forged ahead.
Once she reached the edge of the garden, the landscape opened and revealed a stone path. Or, rather, more like a road, as it was wide enough for horses and carts to travel on. The area was dotted with stone homes, some of which were two or even three stories high. Beyond, she noticed the homes got a little smaller and less elegant and were only one story. It appeared to be the typical sectioning off of the classes and something that was often seen in ancient ruins. The lower-class people were further away from the palace and had smaller homes. For some reason, she was drawn to the lower quarters and kept on the path until she reached the first home.
Again, she checked her surroundings to see if anyone had followed her before she eased up the stone walk to an iron gate that stood ajar, as if the home’s occupant had just left and forgotten to close it all the way. On a deep breath, she placed her hand on the cool iron and was amazed that it looked like it had been crafted only yesterday. There was zero wear. No rust. No sign it was probably thousands of years old, and that was when she realized she had no idea how old this ancient city really was. With a gentle push, the gate opened and, again, she was shocked at the ease at which it did and without so much as a squeak. Not bothering to close it behind her, she made her way to the front door and stopped to admire its deep aqua color with its gold symbols. She wondered what they meant and hoped it wasn’t some kind of magic to keep out intruders as she pushed it open. Inside, her gaze absorbed everything that lay in front of her, and she had to remind herself this was not a dream.
Sucking in a breath, she crossed the threshold and stepped into a family’s past. She knew enough about Atlantis to understand that the occupants of this home were likely long deceased, but were their descendants in one of Zolar’s prisons? Had the occupants escaped and blended into the human world? As she stared at the welcoming room, she stepped further into its embrace. Tranquility washed over her, and she never wanted to leave these white and coral walls with their gemstone mosaic tiles. Her gaze fell to the two Grecian-style couches carved of what she assumed was wood and inlaid with gold. The cushion was a plush velvet the color of sunshine with jewel-toned pillows stacked to one side.
“Wow. This is one of the poorer homes?” She wondered what the richer ones looked like.
CHAPTER6
Zander knew the second Sheila left her room, but he wasn’t concerned. With the blood bond, he could track her every move and already knew she had made her way through the gardens and into the residential area. He figured he might as well allow her this opportunity to explore, since she couldn’t get out of Atlantis. Besides, he was curious about where she would go. No matter what she said or didn’t say, she held Valarian blood and he wanted to know how. Maybe the way to gain her trust and get her to open up was allowing her this chance to see her ancestral home. It was possible the doctor had no idea who she really was, in which case she was an even bigger mystery.
The female that tweaked every nerve he had was exploring the homes on the edge of the city. He found it odd she entered one of the lower-class homes and not the more opulent ones. Was there something in particular that pulled her there? He decided to do a little spying and transported himself a few feet away, keeping a magical cloak around him, so he remained undetected.
He watched with great curiosity as she moved through the living quarters and appeared to take in every detail. The doctor seemed especially captivated by the painting that hung on the wall and lingered there, as if she were studying every feature on the faces of the family in the portrait. He sensed her yearning, but the lines around her mouth showed she was stressed, or upset, by what she saw. Unable to stay hidden, he stepped from his magical sanctuary.
“Going somewhere?”
Gasping, she spun to face him, her cheeks pink and eyes wide. When her gaze met his, however, it narrowed into irritation. “Looking around.”
He didn’t bother to hide his smirk. “Without permission?”
She lifted a shoulder. “Did you expect any less of me?” Her eyes were once again filled with blue fire.
“I fully expected as much. What I didn’t expect was the reaction you had to the family in the painting.” He flashed his gaze to the couple and their two children. “What were you thinking as you stared at them so intently?”
She finally looked back at the painting. “It seems surreal that this family once lived here. How long ago?”
“Well, Oshivana, I mean Atlantis, was abandoned around twelve hundred BC. I can’t say if the family had already perished or if they left the city.” It was then he noticed it. The mother in the painting had golden locks and vibrant blue eyes, as did both the daughters. That wasn’t the details that caught his attention as he looked from the painting to the female next to him and back. Her nose was long and slender, her lips full and just the right color of pink. Her cheekbones were high and now flushed from him staring at her. There was no longer an ounce of doubt in his mind. The female staring him down could be the sister to any of the females in the painting.
“This is your family,” he blurted out.
She tried to laugh it off. “Don’t be absurd.”
He stormed toward her until she backed up, her fine ass hitting a wooden table, causing her to fall backward. He took full advantage and leaned over her, his palms slapping the table as he caged her in.
“Don’t play coy with me. I know you are a full-blooded Valarian.” He flashed a glance at the painting. “The reason you were drawn here is because they are your family.” He leaned closer until his mouth was mere inches away from hers. “For once in your fucking life, tell the truth.”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
