She snorted, then turned to the railing, her nerves tingling as the yacht cut through the glassy water on its way to the designated location. When she felt the engine slow, she nearly jumped overboard in excitement, but maintained her outward composure. It wouldn’t do at all for Dalton to see her come undone. She was supposed to be a pro at this. But inside she bubbled over with a childlike thrill. This was her moment.
To calm herself down, she concentrated on inventorying everything for the dive. She focused on the tools, cameras, and equipment they’d be taking down with them.
Dalton was adept at ordering his crew. They moved like a well-oiled machine, lowering everything into the water.
Someday she’d be at the helm of her own crew, barking out orders. And they’d all jump.
She’d be their queen. They’d bow before her.
A thin veil of darkness covered her mind. She grasped the railing as a wave of dizziness overcame her.
Darkness. Queen. Minions bowing before her. Gruesome creatures, but they revered her. Sickening evil surged inside her. Everything was at her command. Wealth, immense power. She could control it all.
She blinked, biting back the bile rising in her throat.
Those weird visions again. That sense of evil, coating her like a splash of thick oil. She shuddered, shook it off.
Too much stress. Not enough sleep lately. She really needed to find this treasure so she could relax. She was starting to lose it.
It had nothing to do with the journal. Nothing at all to do with her mother’s words. She was imagining things.
Turning away from the railing, she focused on the tasks of getting ready for the dive. Soon, all was ready. She put on her tank and mask and lowered herself off the edge of the swim dock. Dalton followed, and they submerged, the crew following with the equipment.
Isabelle hadn’t done a huge amount of undersea exploration, but enough to be comfortable. And she’d always loved diving, had been enamored of the sea since she was a little girl, awestruck by the quiet solitude of blue water surrounding her.
No one had searched this particular area, concentrating instead at points northeast of their location. But she’d studied the area, the charts, the estimates, and knew where she wanted to start.
Call it a hunch, or whatever, but she’d been researching this for years. Others scoffed at her, but she’d done her homework. Anyway, that’s why she liked to work alone. She didn’t need the disdain of the scholarly types. This time she was going to find the temples. She was going to find Atlantis.
She knew this was her last chance.
Dalton stayed a bit behind Isabelle, content for now to observe her movements. She undulated through the water at a leisurely pace, her braided hair flowing behind her.
She looked like a mermaid, her body sleek and perfect as she glided effortlessly around coral and plant life. She seemed oblivious to the rest of them, at ease with leading the pack where she wanted to go. And she seemed to know exactly where she was headed. Her plastic map tied with cord to her wrist, she paused only occasionally to take a quick glance at the landmarks on it, then proceed.
It was so dark they had to rely on lights to see. Isabelle dove low, skirting the sea floor but not disturbing the sandy bottom. Finally, she halted to inspect a large, odd-shaped boulder, then motioned for Dalton, who swam up beside her. She pointed to the boulder and quickly jotted something down on the waterproof whiteboard attached to her wrist.
Boulder similar to other finds was all she wrote. He nodded and motioned to one of the crew members, who took pictures of all sides of the boulder and marked the location with a balloon buoy. They moved on.
They spent the entire day on the dive. They surfaced, ate lunch, changed air tanks and went down again. It was tedious, painstaking work, but Isabelle was relentless, covering every inch of the sea floor and missing nothing. She noted every object that could be related to the temples and never seemed to tire in her quest. By the time the sun started to set and they had to stop, Dalton was exhausted and waterlogged, and Isabelle was clearly frustrated. They climbed aboard and rid themselves of their diving gear.
“How about a shower and change of clothes? I’ll get the cook started on dinner and we can relax,” Dalton suggested.
“Fine,” she said, not even looking at him. Her lips compressed in a tight line as she marched off to her room.
Dalton followed, smiling as he made his way to his room, stripped off his wet suit, and climbed into the shower to wash away the salt water. The day was a waste. He’d gotten nowhere, other than furthering Isabelle’s treasure-hunting goal. She’d exhibited no signs of demonic behavior, though by the time they’d surfaced at the end of the day, she seemed about ready to throw a major tantrum.
That was frustration, and understandable. The woman worked hard. And he was impressed. He didn’t really know what he expected from Isabelle, but it wasn’t what she’d shown him today.
Maybe he’d expected her to be lazy, to let others do the work while she stood on the sidelines. The intel he’d gathered on her indicated she was into hunting treasure and getting rich quick, concentrating on digs that generated fast results and a big prize, then hurrying on to the next one.
That didn’t seem like her at all, at least not that he’d seen today. She’d exhibited the traits of a born leader-tenacious, determined, and driven, and seemingly willing to stick it out until she got what she wanted.
Apparently he had a lot to learn about her, including uncovering her secrets. Because the deets on her and the reality weren’t jiving. And he didn’t like being confused.
He dried off after his shower, dressed in shorts and a sleeveless shirt, and headed back outside to wait for Isabelle.
It was time to press her, to get to know her more. . intimately. There was a lot more to Isabelle than what she showed.
He wanted to see what was written on the pages of that book she had hidden, what had upset her so much that she’d sent it flying across the room.
What made her so angry at her mother?
And why was she lying about who she was, about her sister, Angelique?
Dalton had a lot of work ahead. And very little time. So when Isabelle strolled down the gangway, he pasted on a smile. She, however, wasn’t smiling.
“Still upset?” he asked, holding a chair out for her.
She slid into it and he motioned to Dimitri, who hurried over with drinks.
“Thanks,” she said, lifting the glass and taking a long swallow of the cocktail. She set it down and relaxed her shoulders. “I needed that.”
He rimmed the edge of the glass with his fingertip. “The day didn’t go as you expected?”
“No. Unrealistic expectations, I guess. I apologize for my sour mood.”
“You thought you’d find the temples on the first day.”
She stared down at the glass. “Yes, I suppose I did. Or I wanted to. I don’t know.” She lifted the glass and drained the liquid. Dimitri came over and replaced the empty glass with another full cocktail. Dalton nodded at him.
“It’s understandable to want success right away, Isabelle.”