Poseidon (Contemporary Mythos Book 5)

My thumb flew furiously across the letter-labeled buttons of my gaming controller, my index finger pressing on the trigger when my eyes aligned with their target.

“Headshots all day, boys,” I said into the mic of my headset with a grin.

I’d been a gamer since I was a pre-teen. No genre disinterested me—first-person shooters, role-playing games, strategy. You name it. I played it. However, since the game Tides of Atlantis was released, I’d found a new calling. It was a perfect mix of both shooting and swordplay—a fantasy action game combining hints of sci-fi amidst the world of Atlantis.

During a loading screen, I glanced at the Glitch application where I was streaming my gameplay. Twenty new subscribers in a manner of minutes. Who knew you could make some extra cash by having others watch you play a video game?

One watcher commented: SaucySiren, it’s like this game was made for you.

SaucySiren. My gamer tag and the only name any of these strangers would ever know me by.

I grinned. “Life’s just better underwater, I guess.” Swiveling back and forth in my gaming chair, I jolted at the time blazing at me from the corner of my monitor.

“Until tomorrow, everyone. The real water is calling me.” I waved at the webcam before signing off and shutting everything down.

Humming the song Beyond the Sea, I whisked around my bedroom, gathering up needed items. My camera bag packed with underwater lenses and handles. My duffle bag filled with a wetsuit, flippers, and mask. Pensacola, Florida had an artificial reef lurking in the waters of the Gulf, which didn’t often make for the best photos. However, there were always sunken ships to explore. As a freelance photographer, I’d take photos of those ships as many times as people were willing to pay for them.

My cell phone made obnoxious buzzing noises from my nightstand. No doubt that’d be my best friend and partner in crime, Megan, calling. I scooped the phone into my hand, sliding my thumb across the screen and cradling it between my ear and shoulder.

“Hello?”

“Cordelia Pearl. You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago,” Megan chastised.

I rolled my eyes and trotted over to one of the largest items in my studio apartment—my fish tank. “I know, I know. I got caught up on Glitch, but I’ll be there in five minutes. Perks to living on the beach, right?”

Bright colored angelfish and platies filled the tank, swimming to the corner I stood nearby. Megan had seen them do this and called me a fish whisperer at the time. I countered with them being creatures of habit. They had one thing on their mind: Food.

“Are we still doing garbage detail after the dive? Handing out flyers and such?” Megan asked.

Sprinkling the fish food flakes on the water’s surface, I grinned, watching Flounder, my blue and yellow angelfish’s little mouth go to work eating it up. “I planned on it. You’re not bailing on me, are you?”

Silence.

Flounder stared at me from the other side of the glass. His large eyes blinked, and I arched a brow at him.

“Meg?”

“Okay, Cory, hear me out.”

I groaned and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Know what? You don’t need to give an excuse. If you have something going on, that’s fine. I can do it alone. I’m used to it.”

“Well, now I feel guilty.”

I bent forward and wiggled my finger at Flounder. He did a single twirl, flapped his flippers, and swam away.

Huh. That was new.

“Don’t feel guilty. Truly. I didn’t mean it to come out that way.” I canted my head to the side as I watched my fish hypnotically swim through their tank.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

I snickered. “You can certainly remind me in five minutes. I’m hanging up now.” After pressing the big red button, I slid the phone in my back khaki shorts pocket.

Hoisting the three bags needed for one photographic dive, I waddled out the door. And as per usual, I’d forgotten to dig my keys out from my purse before loading up. To the ground, all three bags went. In a huff, I locked the door and dragged the cargo across the concrete to my yellow Jeep parked under the complex’s terrace.

At five foot three, it was always an event to load the car. I raised to my tippy toes in my white Keds and slid one bag at a time into the back. Climbing into the driver’s seat, I slid my sunglasses on and drove down the beach road. The sun beaming on my face and the smell of salt in the air calmed any nerves I had boiling up. Dark hair tendrils flew in my face from the wind whipping through the open compartment of the Jeep.

The view of the ocean never failed to make me smile. Many people would say the beach, the water, was like a second home. It was different for me. There was always a sense of restlessness when I was anywhere but a place I could feel the water on my skin. The moment it crashed against my feet or touched my fingertips, nothing else mattered.

Meg leaned against her car, scrolling through her phone in the parking lot near the pier. Her bags were on the ground, circling her feet. I pulled in next to her and lifted my sunglasses to rest on my head.

“Finally. Gus has, I kid you not, asked me four times when we were shoving off.” Meg slipped her phone into her pocket. “I was this close to telling him to shove off. As if he had anything else to do on a Tuesday morning.”

With a chuckle, I hopped out and grabbed my bags. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting then.”

“I say this in the least condescending way possible, but you look adorable every time you grab your bags.” Meg bit down on her lower lip as she smiled.

At almost six feet tall, Meg made me look like a Hobbit. Given our same chocolate brown wavy hair, chestnut-colored eyes, and the Disney princess nose that curved slightly upward at the tip, we could pass as sisters if it weren’t for the height difference.

I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “Shut up, Jolly Green Giant.”

“Hey, I didn’t resort to name-calling.” Meg grabbed one of my bags before I could protest and headed for the dock.

After securing the lock on the hatch, I trotted after her to catch up. “Am I taking point this time?”

“Oh, yes. There are always creepy Hammerheads lurking around this ship. And for whatever reason, you’re made of natural repellent.”

“Oh, please. It’s the camera.” I held my hands up like I was holding the camera rig and waved my arms back and forth. “Works like a shield.”

“Maybe for you,” she guffawed.

“Well, it’s about damn time,” Gus, our resident captain snorted. His grey hair sprouted from underneath his cap, and he pressed a hand to his beer belly like he was pregnant.

I pouted. “I feel so bad you had to chill on your boat at the dock for an extra thirty minutes.”

“You should feel bad. I want to be on the water, not staring at it from a damn plank of wood.” He grumbled and removed a toothpick from his mouth, turning for the boat.

Once Gus had his back to us, Meg turned at me and made talking mock gestures of him. She held her arms out, mimicking a large stomach, and waddled down the dock like a sumo wrestler. I let out a cackle and slapped my hand over my mouth to squelch it.

Once we situated ourselves aboard the boat, Gus set sail for the sunken ship’s location. I draped my forearms over the edge, staring out at the water, longing to feel its embrace. Dozens of dolphins hopped in and out, following us most of the way. Every time their heads breached the surface, they’d screech in greeting.

“You know, you’ve always looked at the water like a handsome man, but lately, you’ve been staring at it like you want to jump its bones.” Meg leaned on the railing next to me.

I scrunched my nose. “Is there a reason you’re personifying it like a lover?”

“Me? You should seriously see your face. You’re giving it burly arms and abs with that stare. Not me.”

“The ocean for me is like—” I tapped my finger against my lips. “Brownies drenched in hot fudge for you.”

“See? The ocean is orgasmic to you.”

“You’re impossible.” I laughed as I pulled my hair into a low ponytail, prepping it for the dive.

The boat slowed before coming to a complete stop.

“Here’s the spot, ladies. You have thirty minutes, so make the most of it. You’re on the clock starting now.” Gus pointed at his wristwatch before plopping on a bench seat.

Meg unzipped her bag, pulling out a wetsuit and flippers. “Apparently, Gus’ speedo is up his ass a little too far today.”

“Maybe Beatrice is on him again. Remember last time? He vented to us for ten minutes about her complaining he loves the sea more than her?” I slipped into my wetsuit, zipping it up from the back.

Meg sighed and looked up. “What I wouldn’t give to have someone to complain about me.”

“Oh?” I sat down to slide on my flippers. “I thought you’d be hanging out with Emma. That’s not the reason you’re busy later?”

She frowned, absently holding her scuba mask by its strap.

“Meg?” I stood and touched her arm. “What is it?”

“Emma broke up with me.”

I gasped. “What? Why?”

“Beats me. But she packed up her shit and left last night.” Meg hoisted an oxygen tank on her back and secured the straps.

“Meg, why didn’t you say anything? And why are you even here?”

“I need a distraction. And diving into shark-infested waters with my best friend to snap photos of a sunken pirate ship is the best damn one I can think of.” She half smiled and flopped her way over to the boat’s edge.

It wasn’t a pirate ship, but I wasn’t about to correct her now. Not after what she’d just told me. Poor Meg had been through countless girlfriends through the years we’d known each other. My theory was most of the women she’d dated were still figuring themselves out, but Emma, they’d been dating for two years. It didn’t make any sense.

“And that’s why you don’t want to work the shorelines afterward. Because you’d have to socialize.” I offered a reassuring grin.

“Bingo. I love that as soon as I tell you a problem, you can pretty much talk it out for me.” She chuckled and slid the full-face scuba mask down.

Mimicking the same actions, I sat next to her with our backs to the water.

“Can you hear me?” I asked through the mask’s communication line.

She saluted. “Loud and clear, Cap.”

Gripping the rigs of our cameras, we leaned back and fell into the water. Hundreds of bubbles floated around me—the water’s way of welcoming me into its domain. With every flip of my fin and breath taken from my scuba tank, the water would always remind me of where I was by responding with bubbles.

“It’s so clear down here today,” Meg said as we made our descent.

Typically, the Gulf had fairly clear waters, but a hefty rainstorm could make it murky. It dampened that crystal blue and green color this part of the Gulf was known for.

“How many times have we done this dive now, would you say?” I asked Meg, spying the ship in the distance.

“Oh jeez. Twelve? Thirteen?” She chuckled. “Every time someone starts a new magazine here, it seems it’s one of the first articles they want to feature. I’m not complaining, as it pays my rent.”

“Amen to that, sister.”

Meg pointed. “What did I tell you? Three hammers. Already.”

“It’ll be fine, Meg. Don’t bother them. They won’t bother you.”

“Tell that to one who hasn’t eaten in days,” she grumbled.

“They’ve eaten. Trust me. It’s why they explore the shipwreck. Looking for other fish hiding in it.”

She stayed so close to me her bubbles impeded my vision. “How can you sound so confident?”

“I’ve spent a lot of time around them. Never had any close calls, so something is working, right?”

“That only happens when you’re around. Before I met you, I’d almost been bitten twice.” She held up two fingers at my mask.

“Almost. But not.” I grinned, even though I knew she wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get these shots and get the hell out of here. Sharks aside, this ship always gives me the creeps.”

I spent the next twenty minutes taking photographs with Meg as my backup camerawoman. The sharks mostly kept to themselves except one who grew curious and swam into my frame. It was like he knew exactly where I aimed the camera. I could sell that one shot alone for triple any of the other shots. People went crazy for shark photos, and this one would have a sunken ship in the background with light rays bursting through the water’s surface.

When we returned to the boat, Gus was asleep with his body draped over the steering wheel. It took us both nudging him with our elbows to wake him up. I sat on the bench seat during the ride back to the docks, feverishly searching through the hundred shots I took, looking for the shot. When it graced my camera monitor, I gasped.

“Meg, look at this.” I felt for her shoulder, not daring to take my eyes away from my camera.

“What—ow, that was my eyeball,” she chastised, batting my hand away. “Holy shit, Cory. That’s a gorgeous shot.”

“Do you think I could sell this to a gallery?”

“Are you kidding? Definitely do not sell this to the magazine. I think that’s the best one I’ve seen from you.”

The hammerhead shark was centered perfectly, the color of the water a serene blue, the ship in the background, and the rays gave it an extra touch of magic. As much as I played a videogame set in the imaginary world of Atlantis, a part of me always wondered—hoped even, it was real. And sun rays like these spilled over every square inch of it, making it sparkle. It really was the best shot I’d taken yet.

Once we were back in the parking lot and packed up our vehicles, I exchanged my wetsuit for an ocean conservation charity shirt and shorts.

“Hey, Meg, you going to be okay?” I winced, knowing it was a stupid question.

She gave a weak smile. “Not today, I won’t be. But tomorrow will be better. I’ll give you a call?”

“Definitely. Any time. I’m there.” I hugged her before she jumped in her car and drove off.

Twirling the trash poker in one hand, a white garbage bag in the other, I was ready to start this garbage party for one. Every time I’d walked the shoreline, picking up bottles, cans, or anything else human beings deemed worthy of tossing into the water, I got mixed reactions from beach-goers. The younger crowd would sometimes laugh as they passed, the older ones would look at me like I had scales, and the much older crowd would thank me for being so thoughtful. I didn’t care what anyone thought because it was something I wanted to do—needed to do.

White sand seeped between my toes as I scooped a plastic water bottle into the bag with a gloved hand.

“Do you have a flyer or business card for the charity you work for?” A woman sunbathing on a towel asked me.

I grinned and pulled a card from my front pocket. “We’re localized to the Gulf coast. Donated money helps rid the Gulf of garbage, and every year, we donate to an animal rescue and rehabilitation center.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. I’ll look it up when I get home.”

I smiled even wider. “Well, thank you very much, ma’am.”

The afternoon wore on as I made my way down the shoreline where tourists and locals frequented. I’d almost made it to the end when a thin man, no more than twenty-five, tossed his empty Gatorade bottle in the sand at his feet. Inside, I fumed, eyeing the garbage can five feet away from him. They had a can every thirty feet for people to throw stuff out, but most couldn’t bother to make the pilgrimage.

Grabbing the bottle with a grunt, I held it in the air and yelled, “You’re welcome!”

When the young man turned around with an arched brow, I made an exaggerated gesture of throwing the bottle into the trash can. He smirked and shook his head.

Whatever. It made me feel better.

I bent down to grab the last bit of remaining garbage—candy bar wrappers and a plastic straw. Ugh, those were the worst.

“Excuse me, miss, have we met before?” A deep voice asked from behind me.

I rose and slowly turned. Craning my neck back due to how insanely tall he was, my gaze met with a pair of striking green eyes. I’d seen those eyes before—heard that voice. But…how?