Beneath the Current Page 2

  After faking a 'body' being put into cold storage, he had hurried out an exit nearby. The 'body' wouldn't fool anyone of course, but they just needed it to look real enough for them to escape the lab tonight.

  Martin drove his car around the building and up next to Dr. Thomas's SUV and hopped out to help him load the box.

  "Any problems?" he asked as they hefted the box carefully into the SUV.

  "Nope," Thomas smiled. "The guard made a good show of checking boxes for the cameras like you said. He was actually a little sad looking. Handed over my badge and got out of there."

  "Good," he said, slamming the back of hatch closed.

  He froze when he found the adoring eyes of his lover staring at him, gazing into his dark brown eyes.

  "Thank you," he whispered.

  Martin met his gaze, then leaned closer in the shadows of the SUV. He wrapped his hand around his love's neck, threading his fingers in his dark hair, and gently kissed him. "Anything for you."

  Martin would never have done this without his lover begging him to, Dr. Thomas knew that. Martin didn't quite see Casey like he did, but Martin loved the man and would do anything to see his lover happy. With a quick squeeze of their hands, they turned to their vehicles. Within minutes, they were headed out of the secured laboratory facility.

  This was it. His heart was racing, but he kept himself calm as he drove away from his old life. Dr. Peter Thomas and Dr. Brian Martin would no longer exist. They would become Thomas and Martin Jorss, along with their nephew Casey Badar. He had chosen Casey's last name carefully. It meant 'full moon'.

  Fifteen minutes later, they pulled over into the parking lot of a shopping center. Yanking the collapsible plastic box out of the SUV, Thomas opened it and gathered the blanketed young boy in his arms. He slid into the back of Martin's car, and Martin slipped in the other side. He yanked a syringe out of his pocket, pulling off the cap and swiftly stabbing it into the boy's chest. Thomas winced but said nothing. It was necessary. A few seconds later, Casey's eyes flew open and he gasped, sucking in as much air as possible in one breath. While Martin jumped back out and broke down the box and shoved it into the trunk, Thomas clutched the shaking body close to him.

  "Shhh, Casey, it's alright now," Thomas soothed, a gentle hand caressing the boy's face as Martin slipped back into the front seat, looking back at his partner cradling the small boy.

  Casey's wide gray eyes stared up at Thomas's face, and even Martin could see that the boy was not only scared but unsure of what was going on. He probably didn't remember much of what had happened. At least, Martin hoped he didn't.

  "I'm c-cold," the boy's teeth chattered, his body shivering violently.

  "Get the heat up," Thomas snapped at him. As the heat roared to life, he watched Thomas wrap the blanketed child tighter in his arms. "You're going to be fine, Casey. Uncle Thomas and Uncle Martin are going to take care of you."

  Martin Jorss's heart melted at the light of hope that lit his partner's eyes. Yes, they would be fine. They would be a family.

  ****

  Martin jerked upright at a loud splash and a splattering of salt water dampening his clothes and book, then cursed under his breath as he watched the blue-gray tail slip back underwater off to the side of the boat. Fucking kid.

  He wiped at his eyes, damp with salty water not from the ocean. His memory of the night he and his lover had smuggled a young five year old experiment out of the lab where they had worked slowly faded to the wayside. Thomas had been so happy. They all had been so happy.

  For a while.

  Chapter 2

  Casey dove under the surface of the tropical waters. He was very familiar with the waters and coral reefs around his island home here off the coast of Sri Lanka in the Gulf of Mannar. He'd lived here for as long as he could remember. First with both Uncle Thomas and Uncle Martin, and now with just Uncle Martin.

  God, how he missed Uncle Thomas.

  He choked back his grief. It had been over five years now, he didn't think Thomas's death should still affect him so much, but it did. At twenty years old, he should be able to control his emotions better. Be more like Uncle Martin; he rarely let his emotions show—not his grief anyway, anger, hate maybe—not since Thomas had died.

  Casey scooped up another oyster, gently prying it open with the tip of the knife. Seeing nothing, he carefully placed it back down and tried another. He floated along, his long sleek tail flipping gently to propel him along. He'd been under for ten minutes now. He'd need to surface shortly, but he pressed himself further.

  He loved the feel of the cool saltwater teasing his skin, flowing over his body. Sea grass tickled his bare torso, his long gray-blue tail skimming the waters behind him. The freedom he felt under the water, especially in his mer form, made him feel content. Like he belonged somewhere. The fish and coral and sea turtles didn't judge him, didn't blame him, didn't hate him. He was away from judgment, away from bitter resentment.

  A manta ray floated under him, and he skimmed a hand over the manta's slick back. A school of butterfly fish swam around him as he ducked down to pick up more oysters to check.

  This was his job, Martin had informed him years ago. His duty to Thomas's memory, to help Martin with the estate upkeep. He'd been diving for pearls long before Thomas passed away; in fact, Thomas had often gone with him. But it was definitely more like a job now, as he took little pleasure in it without Thomas.

  He managed to find a couple more pearls before he had to surface. Martin was waiting in the boat, flipping through a book. Casey handed over the small bag he had attached to his wrist to Uncle Martin, then took a few moments to push back his mer side before climbing awkwardly onto the boat and reaching for his shorts.

  "Good job," Martin stated as he glanced in the pouch at the five natural pearls he'd harvested.

  Casey couldn't help but feel a small swell of pride at his uncle's praise as it didn't happen very often. Martin was nothing like Thomas had been. Even back when Thomas was alive, he was always more aloof. Thomas was the affectionate one, who doted over Casey constantly. Casey always thought that Martin only accepted him because Thomas had insisted. Casey knew very little of how he came to be with his uncles. He didn't remember his very early childhood. Sometimes he had dreams of a place he felt he should know, but neither of his uncles had ever mentioned anything other than his parents had died and they had taken him in, especially knowing his 'special condition'.

  "I saw a pod of dolphins over yonder," his uncle stated, and Casey's eyes lit up. "You can go swim for a bit if you want."

  "Really?" Casey smiled in hope. It was rare that Martin Jorss indulged him like that. Usually, it was a run to harvest some pearls and back.

  Casey's hand floated to the collar at his neck hesitantly. "Will you..." he dropped off the question as Martin nodded.

  "Yes, I'll follow."

  Casey grinned as he walked to the back of the boat, dropping his shorts, and diving off gracefully. With Martin following him, there would be little chance of setting off the collar—he certainly had no desire to experience it's painful zap to his body that reminded him he'd strayed too far. Martin had set the boundaries for the collar to about quarter mile from the controller, which was usually at the house, unless they were pearl hunting.

  After Uncle Thomas's death five years ago, Martin hadn't been willing to take any more chances on Casey getting into any more trouble. Casey understood it. Most of the time, he was grateful that Martin cared for him enough to help him, to keep him safe from venturing too far from their home. Too many things could go wrong, Uncle Martin had told him time and time again. The collar was his protection. It allowed him some freedoms, to wander the island, to swim a bit off shore, but if he strayed too far it would send an electrical jolt to his system until he was back within the perimeter that Uncle Martin had set.

  It was one way, Uncle Martin told him, that he could keep Casey safe without keeping him imprisoned. While it felt confining sometimes, Casey was cert
ain Martin was just doing what he could to keep him safe from those who would exploit him, who might even kill him if they found out about his 'mer' side.

  Martin had even made Casey a special cave to use during the pull of the full moon cycle. It was a natural cove on the south side of the house, the farthest away from the other part of the island that was owned by some old aristocratic family that never used it. There was a gate installed over the mouth of the cave that Martin could lock when Casey was lost to the lunar pull. Casey could enjoy the moon's radiance from the cave without Martin fearing Casey venturing too far into fishing areas that dominated the area during the night tides, especially during a full moon.

  So he was excited to get to swim out in the deeper ocean and not just have to linger near the shore. He transformed immediately as he hit the water, his long legs merging to form his powerful tail. He took off, pausing only long enough to make sure that Martin was actually following in the boat.

  Martin hated the seawater, rarely venturing in like Uncle Thomas had. It was probably even more of the reason that Martin had had to resort to the collar and cave to help control Casey's wanderings. Martin only took him out a couple times a month, unlike Thomas who had gone out with him nearly every day. They both missed Thomas so much.

  It didn't take him long to find the pod of dolphins. They frolicked around him happily, and he felt his heart soar. He hadn't been able to hang with dolphins in a while, and he missed it. They nudged him playfully, clicking and whistling around him. He swam with them, holding onto one of their dorsal fins. He lost himself in the innate joy of gliding through the water, feeling so light and free.

  He wished he could stay here forever.

  ****

  Martin Jorss watched his 'nephew' frolicking with the large sea mammals, a tinge of distain pricking his heart. The boy had certainly grown up to be a beautiful young man, sinewy and compact, but beautiful nonetheless. He was even more so in his shifted form. The sleek lines of his torso tapering into the narrow hips that led to his long, lean tail.

  Unfortunately, Martin had never loved the boy like Thomas had. In truth, he'd always been a bit jealous of the attention Thomas lavished on the boy after they had rescued him from the laboratory. They had both been lured to the project by the promise of field breaking research opportunities and accolades. Thomas had fallen in love with the boy, became like his father and treated him like he was his own son. Martin found it hard to share Thomas's affections with someone else after having had Thomas to himself for so many years.

  After...after the 'accident' that killed Thomas, Martin couldn't help but blame Casey. It had been Casey's fault that they were out that far in the first place. He couldn't forgive the boy for killing his love, but he'd managed so far to keep his word to Thomas and look after him—it suited his plans to do so anyway. Plans that would be coming to a head soon now that the boy was basically an adult.

  At least with the collar, he didn't have to suffer the boy's presence as often.

  While Casey spent a lot of his time wandering around on the island and swimming in the surf nearby, Martin tended to keep to their large house or his work in town at the clinic. He would work on analyzing Casey's blood and tissue samples in his lab, writing up reports, or he would spend a lot of time reading in the living room—as long as Casey wasn't in his tank. He hated being in the room if Casey decided to take a swim in the huge saltwater tank they had installed for him. It reminded him too much of when he and Thomas would sit there for hours watching him as a young boy swimming around. He missed Thomas curled up next to him. It hurt too much to be reminded of that.

  Sometimes he'd head into town for supplies or spend a few hours helping in the town clinic. They didn't have much medical care close by, as he'd discovered five years ago when he'd so desperately needed it. The clinic welcomed his help and paid him in allowing him to order his own medical supplies.

  His head jerked up out of his reverie when he heard a loud laugh. Some of the dolphins were launching themselves out of the water over Casey's sandy head. He watched the boy, no—young man, twisting and turning as he spiraled through the water with the playful mammals.

  Martin knew he should at least be content. He should be glad that Casey was still here with him, that he was alive and would be at his disposal when Martin was ready. But he couldn't find happiness. He still ached with his own loss and seeing Casey laughing and playing only made him feel angry that Thomas had been denied the same chance to experience such joy.

  "Casey!" he yelled, having now had enough of the boy's laughter. He pressed a button on the controller to Casey's collar, feeling a sick sense of pleasure knowing it would cause a small zap of pain to the boy, but it was the only way to get his attention. He saw the lean body jerk slightly before it stilled and looked back at him. He waved the boy to come back. "Let's go!"

  He ignored the look of disappointment on the young man's face. You know nothing of disappointment, boy, he thought. Wait until someone you love is yanked away from you, then see how that feels.

  Chapter 3

  Something was going on at the house.

  Casey had been sitting in the sun on the back deck, when he'd heard the rumble of a large vehicle coming over the land bridge that connected them to the main land. He had thought it was Martin, returning from his errands in town at first. But this sounded much different, bigger.

  The undercurrent had been rough this morning, and his muscles felt suitably weary and relaxed from the exercise. With his tablet in his lap as he played Cut the Rope, mindlessly listening to his iPod and singing along with Taylor Swift, he distantly had heard the rumble of a vehicle that wasn't Uncle Martin's. He flipped off the tablet and laid it down on the small table next to him as he popped out the earbuds, listening carefully to the rumble of an engine. Obviously, it was on the island, but it didn't seem to be coming closer to the house. He slowly moved down the steps of the deck towards the forest separating his home from the empty cottage on the other side of the island

  Casey crept through the thick underbrush and trees that separated his home from the abandoned one on the north side of the island. He stopped when he could just make out the source of the rumbling engine. A small moving van.

  A couple of huge men swung down out of the truck. Casey hadn't seen many people, but these guys were rather rough looking. Both were buzz-cut, and they had tattoos on their shoulders. They perched themselves on the steps of the porch, one lighting up a cigarette. Casey eased himself onto one of the boulders deep enough in the tropical brush to keep hidden. They looked like maybe they were waiting for something.

  Casey wondered if they were moving in and were waiting for someone to arrive with the keys. His heart sank as he realized he might not have free run of the island anymore. Martin didn't know just how much he'd explored this side of the island over the years. That house had been empty for as long as he'd been here and no one had ever come to it, not even for a visit.

  Over five years ago, Casey had found a way in through a shoddily locked window. He'd been looking to escape for a while from Uncle Martin's broodiness, which happened every year around Uncle Thomas's birthday, their anniversary, as well as the day Thomas had died. Martin was especially short with him at those times, drinking to excess, threatening to 'sell him off' as Martin would say. Casey knew the man didn't mean it, but it still hurt. And on that day, Casey had snapped back at his uncle. His uncle had hit him for the first time that day, and Casey had run off.

  He'd snuck into the abandoned house, exploring every inch of it. There was still a lot of furniture in it, but it was older and musty smelling. Dust had collected on the surfaces. But Casey found himself thinking of the place as his own.

  It had taken a while, but he had managed to clean it up. Without electricity or running water, he couldn't do a whole lot, like vacuum or anything, but he did bring over rags and cleaning supplies from his uncle's house and managed to get a lot of the dust and dirt cleared away. On nights his uncle was really an
gry, he'd even slept on the bed upstairs.

  As he watched the men sitting there, he realized he probably should have locked the front door. But no one had been there in forever, so he hadn't thought it was an issue. Now, someone would probably realize that he'd been there. Fuck, his uncle would be so pissed with him if he found out.

  A small jeep rumbled down the road toward the house, and Casey could just make out two figures. A man and a woman. Must be the owners. The woman hopped out, striding directly to the two waiting men and started issuing orders.

  "Okay, let's get this door open and get the new stuff inside," she announced cheerfully. The man with the cigarette crushed it out as he rose with the other one to head to the back of the truck. "Shawn!" she called toward the jeep. "You need to come help decide where things go."

  Casey's breath caught in his throat as he watched the dark haired man slide out of the jeep. His broad shoulders were covered in a tight black t-shirt and baggy khaki shorts hung low on his hips. Black sunglasses hid his eyes as his stony face swept over the area.

  He slammed the door to the jeep, his stride and posture indicating he was not happy. "This is the middle of fucking nowhere," his deep voice grumbled.

  The blonde woman smiled broadly, sweeping her arm out toward the open ocean behind the house. "But look at how beautiful it is!"