Supernatural Academy: Year One (Supernatural Academy #1)(92)

One moved to the front, entering the circle where we were all waiting, back to back, prepared to fight for our lives. With a wave of his hand, the mask faded off his face and I was looking at Connor. He waved for me to follow him.

I hesitated. On one hand, they were trained assassins who probably wanted to kill us. On the other hand, we wanted to go to Asher, so following him might be our best option.

Otherwise, we could be swimming around here for fucking days looking for him.

I moved forward, but Calen gripped me harder and jerked me back. I shook my head at them, the five of us doing the sort of eye exchange they usually did without me.

I had a very good idea what each of them was saying though.

We have to find Asher, I silently reminded them.

It’s too dangerous, Jesse’s eyes were definitely saying.

We’re already surrounded, there’s really no other option. Axl was practical, and he agreed with me.

I’ll follow the majority was for sure Calen’s thought. But if you want to fight, I’m down for a fight.

Rone was giving me nothing, his expression shuttered, as it often was.

This time when I moved toward Connor, all of the guys followed, staying in our small group, watching each other’s backs. The Arterians around Connor came to attention as we got closer. They’d taken us with sheer numbers, but in an even fight we might have had a chance.

Connor turned, waving an arm to show us the way, and then he started to swim. He moved much faster than we had been, and I struggled to keep up, definitely not at the level of the Arterians.

I made a vow that if we made it through all of this alive, got Asher back, and returned to the school, I was going to swim every damn day and strengthen my underwater skills. Along with my magical ones.

Connor took us deeper and deeper, and every time I thought I’d finally reached the edge of my ability to withstand the cold and pressure and the limit of my underwater sight, my body would adjust. I was starting to wonder if I had a limit, if any of us with Atlantean blood did.

Connor’s rapid swimming finally started to slow. The floor came into view—well, not so much the floor as a huge shelf of rocks and caves that spanned for miles. He slowly drifted closer, his hands skimming across the top of one rock face. When we were almost on top of him, he paused, his hands digging into a small crack in the stone. It was so small I probably wouldn’t have noticed it under normal circumstances.

Intense heat, filled with energy and magic, burst up from the crevice, and I jerked back. Connor swam back in a rush, and after a minute the heat faded, but the energy did not. The rocks started to move, and I blinked a few times to make sure I was seeing correctly. Maybe I was starting to run out of oxygen or something, because it looked a lot like a hole was opening in the middle of a solid rock face.

I turned to Calen, and he tugged me closer, wrapping his free arm around me to keep me away from Connor. We were all on high alert. When the split in the rocks was large enough to fit one or two full-grown men—even supe-sized men—Connor swam right into the opening, and like he’d been sucked through, disappeared in an instant.

The slipstream.

The Arterians pushed forward, forcing us to follow the same path as Connor. Jesse moved past us and swam in first. The moment his arms, head, and shoulders entered, the rest of him disappeared as quickly as Connor had. Calen pulled me forward next, spinning me in his arms and indicating that I should hold on around his neck. In no position to argue, I plastered myself to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck. There was a split second where our hands parted and his energy faltered—water crashed into my lips and I managed to shut them just in time—but as soon as we were touching again, his power returned to me. I closed my eyes as he swam us forward, and then we were off.

Something grabbed hold of us, like the strongest current in the world; it zipped us down so fast that I let out a little shriek. Needing to see the dangers before they hit me, I opened my eyes and watched as we zoomed along a tunnel, almost like a slide in a water park. Whatever held us was beyond our power to control, and I hoped there wasn’t a rock wall at the end, because if there was we would definitely go splat.

The downward trajectory leveled out, and I closed my eyes again and buried my face in Calen’s chest. He held me even tighter, one of his hands rubbing soothingly along my back. The moment the force released us, I opened my eyes again and gasped. It would have sounded loud and shocked if anyone could hear it, because What the fuck am I seeing?

We were in a circular room, one with a table and chairs in the center, chandelier hanging from the ceiling, and two huge bronze statues standing on either end towering over the entire thing.

I spun toward Calen, who was staring around, his brow creased. Atlantis? I mouthed. He shook his head, but the crease didn’t fade from his forehead. He held my hand again, and we swam away from the tunnel entrance, searching for Jesse.

As we passed the long table, I noticed that it appeared to be made of wood, but there was not a mark or crustacean on it. It was in perfect condition, as were all of the velvet padded chairs, which made no fucking sense because this shit had to have been under the water for thousands of years.

It took us about five minutes to find the exit from this room—on the ceiling, just behind the chandelier. Our heads broke the surface of that opening, and suddenly we had air. I sucked in a deep breath, finally able to breathe on my own. Calen’s power left my body, and he released my hand.