Gone With An Ancient (Ancient Atlantis Book 1) Read online

  “I’ve had an awful day,” she whispered.

  He drew back, not to admire her then, but with a concerned look. “What happened?”

  “I got fired, and there was this weird woman, and Sharon left me, and I just…” she trailed off. She knew she was killing the moment, and as much as she wanted him then, as much as she wanted him to take her upstairs and ease everything, she just couldn’t take her mind off what had happened that day. “I’m sorry,” she finished, not wanting to continue.

  Cecil’s rough hands found her face and pushed it upward, making her look into his eyes. “I think you need some tea,” he said lightly with a quick smile and flash of his nearly perfect teeth. She went to grab her shirt, but he pushed her hand away and gave her his. “I’m sorry for the smell, but at least it’s dry,” he said. She put it on and immediately was immersed in the smell that she loved: his smell. He removed his sweatpants, revealing green plaid boxers. “Take these for the moment as well.” With that, he strode into the kitchen, and busied himself with making cocoa.

  The ensemble was complete, she was wearing his clothes, and slowly his smell would probably seep into her. There was something about smell, she decided, something about it that made her go crazy, mostly with lust and desire.

  As she walked through his house, reading his numerous bookshelves, she heard the click of his gas stove, and the kettle quickly boiling. He finally strode into his living room and sat on his old couch. A puff of dust blew into the room when he sat down.

  “I guess I don’t really use this room,” he chuckled. He held out a glass of cocoa to her. A few marshmallows bobbed on the surface.

  As he sat there, in his boxers, his strong chest bare, his legs outspread, casually sipping from his own mug, that she decided she’d had enough. Juniper took the mug from his outstretched hand and placed it on the side table next to the couch. She moved quickly, straddling and kissing him deeply before he had a chance to react. Their tongues connected, and she could feel his warmth flowing into her. Her chilled skin meeting his warm, rough muscles.

  She peeled off the shirt, her nipples hardened, not from the cold but as soon as they were visible, Cecil’s strong, warm hands grasped her breasts and squeezed hard. He withdrew from the kiss and brought his lips and tongue first to her right nipple, and the then left, giving each the attention it deserved. Enveloping them with his lips, he found the right pressure as she gave out a long moan as his tongue found each note of sensation. She pulled his head back and gave him a quick kiss before getting back up.

  She peeled off her pants. She stood there, naked, before him. Juniper knew she wasn’t the best looking girl at any party, she wasn’t the one to win any awards at pageants, but she hoped there was something more than just an easy lay in her. Cecil got up and let his boxers drop and pushed them to the side. He grasped her tightly against him, his hands finding their way over her and resting in the small of her back.

  “You are beautiful Juniper Nesbitt, do you know that?” he said, looking at her. Standing there naked, grasping each other, was enough to get his blood boiling. He was ready and it was slightly painful to stand so close to her, his manhood pressed tightly against her.

  “I guess you’ll finally use this room,” she whispered. “My turn to be corny.”

  They both chuckled at that before Cecil maneuvered her to the bed where he took her until he eased her pain and troubles of the day.

  Going Home

  The sheets were soft under Juniper’s fingers, and the pillow was light and fluffy under her head. Light streamed from the room’s bay window. She turned to her left, and found Cecil’s spot cold and empty. Juniper frowned and got up, looking around the room for him.

  Cecil stood near the back of his room, next to his dresser, shirtless. His muscles rippled slightly as he folded clothes into a duffel bag. He had smoothed his bed hair down, making him look less ruggedly handsome, Juniper thought. Not that she really minded.

  “What’s going on?” she asked, stretching her arms in the air, and trying to keep the sleepiness from her voice.

  “You’re always so cute with that sleepy voice,” replied Cecil, his low slow tones a contrast to his quick folding and packing.

  “What’s for breakfast?” she asked, pulling herself into a sitting position.

  “There should be some cereal downstairs, I think. Help yourself.” Cecil continued packing, opening drawers to find socks, and rummaging in his closet for some casual shirts.

  Juniper ran her hand down his nearly perfectly shaped back. Her hands always rested against three, deep, lateral scars that ran from shoulder blade to near the small of his back. “When’re you going to tell me where these are from?”

  “Probably never.”

  “Are you going to tell me where you’re going at least?”

  “What?”

  “You seem to be packing for a trip, or something.”

  “Oh yeah. Sorry, I’m a bit distracted.”

  “You weren’t last night.”

  Cecil turned to Juniper and planted a strong kiss on her mouth. “I’m sorry Juniper. I don’t want to ignore you. What’s going on in your life?” He turned back to his folding, but finding it finished, he zipped the bag and threw it lightly towards the open doorway.

  “I’m not sure what happened, really. I was just told that I, along with most of the library staff were to be let go,” said Juniper, bending down towards the bed to try and find her skirt. They were there, somewhere, she was sure of it. Maybe they were downstairs? Things got pretty confusing last night, she remembered. Cecil didn’t respond. He stared into his empty dresser, and then the bag on the floor.

  “I’m sorry, I have to interrupt,” said Cecil. Cecil was nearly six foot five inches in height, and with his build, he dominated whatever room he was in. But, kneeling on the floor, when Juniper looked up, she realized just how tall he really was.

  “Go on then.”

  “I’m leaving Juniper, and I don’t think I’ll be seeing you ever again.”

  Juniper’s butt hit the floor before she realized that she’d lost her balance. “I’m sorry?” she said. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. After everything that had happened, she was going to lose Cecil as well? This couldn’t be happening, she thought. What was happening to her life?

  Cecil sat down on the floor across from Juniper. “Junie, I’m leaving. I wish I could have told you before, but I didn’t, and I’m sorry.”

  “Did you…did you tell the others…?” she asked. It was all she could manage.

  Cecil looked confused for a moment, and then replied, “What do you mean ‘the others’?”

  “The other women ya know. You’re. With. And stuff.”

  Cecil smiled for a moment, reached his right hand to her chin and brought it up to match her eyes. Cecil’s deep brown to Juniper’s brilliant green. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “I…I’m not!” she said defiantly.

  “Junie. There’s no one else. You’re the only one, and you’re the only one in the entire town that knows that I’m leaving. Ok?”

  Juniper sniffed, running her arm across her nose almost childishly. “Where are you going?”

  “I can’t tell you that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I just can’t. Please understand that I can’t tell you.”

  “Why? So I won’t follow you?”

  “No.”

  “Then?”

  Cecil got up, and walked into his bathroom, to keep packing. “It’s because you probably wouldn’t believe me.”

  “Try me! I’m pretty gullible,” Juniper responded.

  Cecil poked his head out of the bathroom door. “I’m sorry? I’m not lying to you Junie. I don’t appreciate the insinuation that I am.”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I was just joking.” Juniper got up off the floor and walked out into the hallway and down the ornate oak stairs, trying not to slip on the flowered carpet that ran dow
n the steps. “I’m just gonna go and find my stuff.”

  Finally, she found her clothes resting on the mantle, as if they’d been merely forgotten rather than tossed unceremoniously. She put them back on, ignored her stomach’s protests at not having breakfast, and hurried back up the stairs. As she walked back up the stairs, she found herself getting angrier and angrier.

  “So. This isn’t cool. You gotta tell me more than, ‘that’s it, I’m leaving today, now and forever.’ Don’t be a dick,” she said as she walked back into the master bedroom.

  “Oh, you put them back on?” said Cecil, emerging from the bathroom, having replaced his sweatpants with a towel. He moved closer to her. “I thought you might have wanted…” he said, running his hands down the sides of her bare arms.

  “I mean, we could,” she replied, “but I don’t think I want to be distracted from the task at hand.”

  “Which is?” he asked as he started to plant soft kisses on the nape of her neck.

  “Where are you going?” she asked, pushing him back. He stumbled back, and folded his arms.

  “Fine. You want to know?”

  “Yes, yes I do.”

  “Fine. You deserve the truth.”

  Cecil walked back into the bathroom and closed the door for a moment. Juniper stood outside, waiting patiently, not sure how this was an answer to her queries.

  After a few moments, he reemerged, wearing the same towel, except something seemed entirely different.

  “Now you can see me for who I am,” he said. She stared at his eyebrows, his hair, and finally resting on his eyes. They were no longer brown.

  “They’re…purple,” she spluttered.

  “I like to think they’re lavender.”

  “Purple. How?”

  “Where I’m going back to Juniper, a lot of people have eyes like this.”

  Juniper stared at his eyes, stared at his body which she knew so well, stared back at his eyes, and realized that she had no idea who Cecil Montenegro really was. Had no idea where he came from, and where he was going back to.

  Just as she was about to pick up her stuff and head home, head cradled in her hands, there came a deep thundering knock from downstairs. And then another.

  “That’ll be my escort.”

  “I’m sorry?” asked Juniper.

  “I guess you’ll know soon enough.” He sighed. “I’m done hiding from you. You, Juniper, of all people.”

  The Lavender Bay

  Cecil led the way as they descended the stairs towards the sound of the knocking. Cecil’s pace quickened as he jumped from the stairs, a few steps from the bottom, and ran to the end of the hallway, where a metal hatch was laid into the floor, under another ornate rug.

  Cecil Montenegro’s house was old, that much Juniper knew, but how old and for what purpose it had been built she had no idea. She didn’t even know how long Cecil had lived there. There were parts of Kurlington, as small as it was, that even she hadn’t discovered or even driven through in her years growing up here. But, given the Victorian styling and the aged wood throughout the house, all she could really estimate was that it was old.

  The metal hatch looked to be made of bronze, and the large bronze latch that Cecil undid and hoisted up seemed too heavy even for him. With a heavy slam, the hatch hit the floor and from the underbelly of the house crawled out two men in lavender and bronze toga uniforms, each carrying a lance at least double their height.

  “Good morning Lancers,” said Cecil. He adjusted his towel awkwardly as the Lancers saluted him. They each wore lavender robes underneath their bronze breastplates. The robes fell down past their knees to bronze studded caligae. The shoe's extended leather straps wrapped their way up their muscular calves. Around their waists was a straight sword, each with a bronze hilt and bronze studded sheath.

  “Good morning, sir!” they said in unison.

  “Names?” asked Cecil.

  “Legionnaire El’Hed sir!” said the lancer on the left. He had floppy brown hair that came down past his ears and a loop of hair that seemed carefully applied over his brow. Or it could have been sweat, Juniper thought.

  “Legionnaire Dahren sir!” said the lancer on the right. He had straight blonde hair, close cut, almost sheared in a haphazard way. He was taller than his partner, stood more upright, almost in a more militaristic fashion. Perhaps his haircut was utilitarian, thought Juniper. She found both of their accents to a be a strange mix between something from the United Kingdom and perhaps something from the Eastern Europe. She couldn't place them, wherever they had just come from.

  “The Guards send two Legionnaires as my escort,” muttered Cecil, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. Looking up, he asked, “alright, so you’re here. A little early, I might add. But you’re here. Start delineating for me the contents of the house which you believe would be necessary to bring, and take them down below. Understood?”

  Each of the legionnaires nodded, but before they moved, each of their heads turned towards Juniper. “What of her sir?” asked El’Hed.

  Cecil stared at Juniper for a moment as if realizing that she was still in the room, let alone the house. “I think you should leave her to me,” he said not unkindly and a little devilishly. His eyes glinted just then, as she always remembered, but she couldn’t take her mind off the fact that they had become this bright purple color.

  “But sir, does she know of us?” asked Dahren.

  As if grabbed by something deep inside of her, Juniper lost what little patience and disbelief she had. “Who and what the hell is ‘us’?” she asked, trying to keep her voice under a dull roar.

  “I think you have your answer Legionnaire,” said Cecil. He nodded to them both, and they both turned in unison and began searching the house for anything important to take with them. Cecil put his arms around Juniper.

  “I think I deserve some semblance of an explanation, don’t you?” she asked.

  “I think you deserve more than that, but I’m going to try and give you the answers. But, that still doesn’t change the fact that you’re not coming with me,” he said. He turned her face in his rough hands, looked into her eyes, his lavender orbs matching her pale green ones. “Do you understand?” he asked gently.

  “I will try. I don’t think I will be able to hide my jealousy though,” she said.

  He laughed and stepped away from her. “If you only you knew,” he said, “then you’d realize there’s no jealousy to be had. Where I’m going there is nothing but hardship and torment.”

  “Maybe I’d love to face it with you.”

  He shook his head. “I’m going to find some pants. You stay right here, ok?”

  She nodded. He dashed back up the stairs. She turned and sat down next to the open hatch in the floor. She looked down and saw nothing but darkness. What could lie down there, she wondered. What wonders lay in the deep! Perhaps it would be like her novels, or perhaps even like Jules Verne talked about. She chuckled to herself. She reminded herself that she was a librarian. Perhaps it was time to retreat back into logic and realism, rather than venture into unexplainable fantasy.

  She let her fingers slide over the cool bronze hatch and down each of the giant weld marks. Her father had been into welding, she remembered. It was also how he’d burnt his left arm as badly as he did, drunkenly welding something he should have left to someone better. For whatever reason, looking down the hatch, feeling the tough metal, her stomach turning in trepidation, it all made her remember looking at her father with a heavily bandaged left arm and realizing for the first time that nothing was as it seemed. He wasn’t a god, he could be hurt. Cecil wasn’t from around here and there was a vast world out there that she couldn’t even fathom.

  Before her mind went into its sad turns, she looked up as Cecil lightly touched her shoulder. He had put on jeans, a shirt, and a pair of boots. “Ready to descend, my fair lady?” he asked, almost playfully.

  “What am I about to see?” she asked, not getting up. Her mind was
still lost in the past. She didn’t know if she was ready to face the uncertain future.

  “You’re about to see the truth. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

  “Yes. But maybe the truth means knowing that you’re leaving and never coming back.”

  He sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have talked in absolutes. Come on, let me show you something that you’ve probably never seen before.” He winked then, and chuckled, laughing at his own euphemism.

  She nodded, stood up, and took his hand. He reached over to a nearby wall and flipped a switch. “I think this will make the climb easier,” he remarked. She looked down the tunnel and small lights had popped on at increments down the shaft. Each light was incased in a larger glass dome that was again incased in a bronze metal frame. Down the length of the tunnel ran a bronze ladder. She grew worried as she couldn’t see the bottom of the tunnel. “Shall I go first?” Cecil asked. She nodded slowly, and he knelt down, grabbed a hold of the first rung, and swung himself down into the tunnel. “Don’t worry,” he said looking up, “if you fall, I will probably catch you.” He chuckled and started climbing down.

  She grasped the first rung and gently let her feet find the rungs below. The rungs were slightly slippery, perhaps from the Guards, or perhaps because as she went further and further into the tunnel the humidity and dampness increased.

  As she descended, Cecil remained silent, her mind went into overdrive, thinking of situations where she might not come out alive, of situations where she might have to flee up these rungs only to find herself trapped by the Guards, of situations where she might even find herself as dinner. She realized, again how little she knew of Cecil, and every possibility had its odds now and she was frightened by them all.

  “Almost there,” said Cecil from below her. “Take your time, don’t slip. I know the rungs are slippery, it’s just the way it is down here. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s ok,” she squeaked. She wished her voice had come out stronger and bolder, but her usual medium tones had gotten lost in her throat at the thought of what might lay below her. She had to know more about all of this, but at the same time the knot in her stomach was becoming too much to handle.