Map of Fates (The Conspiracy of Us 2)

“We have orders. We must make a search,” the man said. A low bark accompanied the statement. Dogs. Even if the men didn’t find us, dogs would in seconds.

I leaned close to Stellan. “The water,” I breathed. Stellan nodded, then pointed at the bracelet on my arm. I slipped it off, and he stashed it inside an empty ice bucket, covering it with cocktail napkins and stuffing it under the bar.

While Colette and Elodie led the men around inside—stalling, thank God—I stayed low and slipped over the boat’s dive deck, clinging to the metal ladder.

The water was freezing. I bit back a gasp as my sundress billowed around my waist. I was about to remind Stellan he didn’t need to hide, but he’d already lowered himself after me and flicked his fingers toward the dinghy tied to the side of the yacht.

There wasn’t much sunlight left, and down here it felt even darker than on the deck. We approached the dinghy, making for the narrow crevice between the smaller boat and the larger one—this was as hidden as we were going to get. I pushed myself back into it. Stellan glided silently behind me.

I realized immediately this wasn’t the best hiding place. The “police” only had to lean over the edge behind the bar to see us. The Konstantinos wasn’t more than ten feet away. Maybe we should get around the other side of it. It’d involve being exposed for a few seconds, but—

The water around us went from dusky to fully lit. Someone had flipped the floodlights on the deck. We were still in relative shadow, but the ripples from our swim fanned out, crystal clear in the reflections.

We both went very still, me pressed back into the nook between the barnacle-covered hull of the yacht and the slick surface of the dinghy, and Stellan with his back to me, my face on level with his sunburst tattoo. I could see both it and his sword tattoo perfectly through his soaked white shirt.

I tried to hold on to the side of the boat, but my fingers kept slipping. Stellan was gripping a rope from the dinghy I couldn’t quite grasp, so he reached behind him and grabbed a handful of my dress, pulling me against him and locking me there. I pushed away for a second, automatically, until I realized I was being stupid. This was much easier. And he was warm. I let my arms snake around his waist.

The voices came closer. Stellan put one of his hands over mine.

“Can I interest you in a drink?” Colette’s sugary voice echoed off the hull of the next boat over. I marveled for a second at how quickly she’d taken to scheming with us. We’d arrived just yesterday, upended her whole world, and now she was playing the perfect distraction. “We have a bar with a magnifique view on the upper deck.”

Stellan’s hand tightened. Oh no. Colette must have assumed we were hidden on the lower deck and was giving us time to get away. But on the lower deck, at least they’d have to maneuver around a pile of life jackets to see us. On the upper deck, all they had to do was stand by the railing.

One of the men grunted, the dogs snuffled, and I heard a clear “Yes.”

Their boots clomped up the stairs, and I let go of Stellan, who took the opportunity to turn silently to face me. The tips of his blond hair were wet, darkened. The scars on his shoulders almost glowed. “Around the other side,” I mouthed, pointing, but it was too late. A hollow thump of boots, and I looked up to see a shadow heading straight toward the railing overhead.

I heard Colette follow, asking about the city farther down the shore. One of the guards reached the railing and leaned over, and I froze. He looked down—then his dog gave a gruff yap and he turned back. I let out a breath.

“Show us what is kept down there,” one of the “police” said. He leaned over the railing again.

I looked around frantically for a hiding place that didn’t exist—and Stellan pulled on my hand and pointed down. With no time to think of anything else, I took the deepest breath I could and slipped under the dark water.

We may not have been able to see much, but we could still hear Colette laughing, and the low rumble of men’s voices. Go get that drink, I urged her silently. Show them your movie poster. Do something. Pressure was already building in my chest. I was starting to twitch, to feel the carbon dioxide building up behind my eyeballs. Stellan didn’t seem distressed at all. Of course—Keepers probably had Navy SEAL–level water training. I let the air out of my lungs in a string of tiny bubbles, like you’re supposed to do to hold your breath longer, but just seconds later, my body, on its own, was straining toward the surface. I pushed against Stellan, forcing myself farther under the water. I could hold on for maybe another thirty seconds.

But they were still talking, still directly above us. Move! I screamed in my head. In front of me, I felt Stellan rising a little. I wasn’t used to opening my eyes underwater while I had contacts in, but I couldn’t help it. The salt stung, but my contacts seemed to stay in place, and after a couple blinks, I could see Stellan’s outline. He rose enough to stick just his face out of the water, take a breath, and come back down into the murky dark.

Yes. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

My body gasped for breath, and I had to force my mouth not to open yet. I rose just like he did—but stopped. I tried again.

Something was pulling on the back of my dress. I yanked on it, but it wouldn’t budge. It took me a second to process what was happening. I’d pressed far enough back into this crevice that I’d run into the ropes or the hooks or something. My dress was stuck.

I was trapped underwater. And I was out of air.

CHAPTER 15

I looked up frantically to see Stellan’s face right above me. I yanked on the dress again, harder. Stellan’s eyes went wide. Sparkles danced in front of my eyes.

The men were above us, still talking, sounding fainter now as my head fuzzed. I pushed out the last tiny bit of air as I yanked harder on my dress, then Stellan was pulling at it, too.

Air.

I felt Stellan move away—maybe, I wasn’t sure. Air air air air any second now my mouth was going to pop open and I was going to inhale water it was physiological you couldn’t stop it that was how you drowned air it was like my mouth was being forced open air if I died no one else would save my mom the Order would kill her air—no no no no said the last wisps of thought in my mind—but I was breathing in and I couldn’t stop it—