Joe’d already had an argument with him when the prince had tried to have women formally banned from the competition, even though no women had signed up as competitors. To spite him, Joe had added Vivian to his team as the lone female competitor. He doubted he’d have gotten her into the water if the prince hadn’t been so abrasive, but she wasn’t about to let the prince ban women and get his way.
And he, Vivian, and his tiny yellow explorer had beaten the prince to the first flag. He’d win the first round, so long as he got the flag back to shore first. And he damn well would.
Vivian’s sub hovered a few yards from the prince’s sub. She looked between that sub and Joe and waved at him, her gesture making it clear he needed to hurry. She didn’t want to lose either.
Joe grinned. He could do this. Edison must have been watching his face, because his butt moved in a tail wag. He drew the dog in close and swam toward Vivian as fast as he could. They’d been out in the ocean only a few minutes. They could skip the safety stop and hightail it back to shore. Then the woman’s team would defeat the prince’s.
A shadow loomed out of the water behind the red sub. Impossibly big. Bigger than a shark. Bigger than the subs in the contest. A whale?
He kicked harder, keeping a tight hold on Edison. Whatever it was, he’d feel safer once he had the dog back in the yellow submarine. Edison wasn’t the kind of dog to panic, but he didn’t want to take chances. Too dangerous out here.
The shadow was blacker than a whale. Bigger, too.
It bore down on the green craft as if it meant to engulf it.
Joe took in the sleek lines, the stubby fin at the top, and the sheer size. A submarine. A military submarine. No military subs should be in this water, not this close to New York City. His blood turned as cold as the seawater around him.
The small sub looked like a remora tucked under a shark’s belly. The pilot’s startled face stared up at it. His hands yanked at his controls, but he couldn’t escape the relentless shadow.
The military sub settled to the bottom, crushing the little submarine under its massive hull. A brown cloud spread around it. A wash of white bubbles shot up its sides and escaped toward the surface. The cockpit must have been breached. The man must be dead. A single dark ribbon threaded through the brown murk.
A victim of its own momentum, the shadow crept forward. It aimed straight for his little yellow submarine.
And Vivian.
Chapter 4
Time slowed to a crawl as it used to when Vivian was in combat. Her mind flipped through possibilities, trying to find one that would save everyone. She could do an emergency surface with the sub, but she’d have to leave Tesla. That was a no go. Someone in that giant submarine had murdered the pilot of the tiny sub, and maybe they were gunning for Tesla next. Not that she could do a damn thing from her little bubble. Her sub didn’t have defensive weaponry. A rich man’s toy. The most she could do would be tap on its hull with one tiny explorer arm.
Several yards out, Tesla was swimming hard, hauling along the dog. He’d never reach her before the sub rammed her. Even if he did, it wouldn’t matter. He’d never get inside in time.
Get her craft out of immediate danger. If worse came to worst, he and the dog could surface and get picked up by a passing ship.
But they wouldn’t. Tesla couldn’t go outside, and the surface of the ocean definitely counted as outside. Conscious, he’d never be able to reach the top of the water, and Edison would stay next to him until they both ran out of air and drowned. His fear of going outdoors was why she always carried a hypodermic needle in her shirt pocket, ready to knock him unconscious in case of emergency. Like this one. Fat lot of good it would do.
The black sub advanced. It couldn’t stop any more easily than she could, and it’d run her over if she didn’t move. But her damn sub handled like a horse mired in mud. She’d never be able to dodge.
Surface. She’d get away, come back for Joe and Edison. She pulled up on the stick, expecting the sub to shoot up like a champagne cork. Instead, the little yellow sub crawled upward like a snail. It wouldn’t get clear in time.
She turned the engine to full and steered at a right angle away from the oncoming danger. Her sub started the beginning of a slow arc.
It’d be close.
Abandon the sub. Put on the emergency suit and surface. But then she remembered Tesla had gone outside through the outer hatch door. The outer hatch was open, the airlock flooded. She couldn’t open the inner door until she pumped it out, and she didn’t have time. She might open the bubble, but that took time, too.
Whatever happened to her, it was going to happen inside.
Her sub inched to the side, every millisecond bringing her closer to safety.
But she ran out of time.
The black sub crashed against her side. The little yellow sub tumbled in front of it. Green water and brown mud flashed across the cockpit bubble.
She fought to control the crash, but the stick kicked sideways in her hands. A sickening snap. Bone-deep pain. Broken wrist.
A grinding screech and her sub finally lay still at the bottom of the sea.
A navigation light had been knocked around, and its beam spotlighted an immobile black wall. The giant sub had ground to a stop, too.
She was pinned. The safety harness cut into her shoulders, and her hips and arm ached. The harsh smell of melted plastic stung her nose. She coughed. Something was on fire.
A jagged silver line raced across the bubble like a lightning bolt. Water seeped through the crack and trickled down to the floor. Another crack. Then another.
She stabbed the quick release for her safety harness and stood. The sub creaked and shuddered. Pain shot from her arm when she moved, and blood dripped to the floor from a cut on her temple, but that didn’t matter.
The only thing that mattered was getting out of the submarine.
Alive.
Chapter 5
Laila lay on her side in the narrow tube with her cousin Ambra squashed against her. Theoretically, two people at a time could get out through the escape trunk, but in practice it was a tight fit, especially since Ambra was the largest woman on the sub. But the escape tube was the only way in or out of the Siren when submerged, and Laila had to verify the prince was dead.
Cold seawater rushed into the tube. Since the first time she’d used it, she’d had nightmares about drowning in this tube. She held tight to her rebreather. If it got blown out of her mouth, she might not recover it in time.
“Did we have to kill the prince?” Ambra’s rebreather dangled next to her cheek.
Laila had to remove her rebreather to speak, and she didn’t like it. “The sub was only part of his plan. So long as he’s alive, he’s a danger.”
“Considering how you feel about him, that seems pretty self-serving.” Ambra’s body was tense next to hers, either with anger or fear.
“As soon as we verify it’s him, we can check the hull for damage and meet up with the Pearl and go our separate ways. The hard part is almost done.”
Laila shifted the rifle digging into her side. The Chinese-made QBS-06 had been in the submarine’s armory. The weapon had been designed for use underwater. It fired fléchettes — pointed steel projectiles with fins on the end. The fins stabilized the fléchette as it traveled through the water to its target. Each projectile looked like it’d tear through anything it hit. She hoped to watch one go through the prince.