The Collector 4: Eight Arms to Hold You Read online

  THE COLLECTOR 4:

  EIGHT ARMS TO HOLD YOU

  Ally Blue

  ®

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id® e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * * *

  This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable (homoerotic sexual situations and violence).

  The Collector 4: Eight Arms to Hold You

  Ally Blue

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by

  Loose Id LLC

  1802 N Carson Street, Suite 212-2924

  Carson City NV 89701-1215

  www.loose-id.com

  Copyright © January 2007 by Ally Blue

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared in any form, including, but not limited to printing, photocopying, faxing, or emailing without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC.

  ISBN 978-1-59632-386-5

  Available in Adobe PDF, HTML, MobiPocket, and MS Reader

  Printed in the United States of America

  Editor: Lorri-Lyne Brown

  Cover Artist: Christine M. Griffin

  www.loose-id.com

  Prologue

  Zanzibar, November 1977

  The island was tiny, barely a mile long and not even half as wide. No indigenous animal life larger than a lizard, precious little plant life other than bushes and a few stunted trees. No sign of human habitation. Yet Carson Cordova had been watching the island for three days, from the deck of his private research and retrieval vessel, El Cazador.

  The ship was anchored five miles off the south coast of Zanzibar Island. Nothing in Carson’s research for this expedition had led him to expect another island at this location. Certainly, nothing had prepared him for what he thought he’d seen three days ago through his binoculars.

  “Sir, I have a report from the dive team.”

  Tirrell, the ship’s communication officer. Carson suppressed a growl of irritation. “Take down the pertinent details and leave it in my office,” he said without turning around. “I’ll review it later.”

  Tirrell cleared his throat. “Your pardon, sir, but Dr. Solari says it’s urgent. He insists on speaking with you immediately.”

  Carson’s shoulders tensed. Hector Solari was his business partner and longtime friend. If he said it was urgent, it was. Carson lowered the binoculars, turned from the railing and started toward the bridge.

  A junior communications officer whose name Carson couldn’t remember handed him the radio without comment. He snatched it from the boy’s hand and thumbed it on, ignoring the dark look Captain Heinz shot him.

  “Hector, come in, it’s Carson. Over.”

  A burst of static, then Hector’s deep, calm voice riding a background wave of panicked shouts. “Carson, we’ve had an incident here. I think you should weigh anchor and bring El Cazador to our location. Over.”

  Carson frowned. “That’s quite a thing to ask, my friend. Why? Over.”

  Silence. When Hector spoke again, his voice held a fine thread of excitement. “I believe we’ve found her. However she is ... shall we say, unexpectedly well-guarded. Over.”

  A jolt of adrenaline coursed through Carson’s veins. He and Hector had spent the past eight years chasing a rumor whispered among the grizzled old men on the docks. A ship said to have gone down somewhere south of Zanzibar in 1880 with a hold full of diamonds stolen from Belgian-ruled Congo. No one knew the name with which the ship had been christened, but over the years she’d picked up the nickname Lady Death, due to the number of people who had died or disappeared trying to find her.

  Carson turned his back on the furtive, curious eyes of the crew and lowered his voice. “Guarded by what? Over.”

  “Truthfully? I’m not certain. Carson, weigh anchor and bring the ship. We’ll discuss what happened when you get here. Over.”

  “Very well. We will be there shortly. I’ll expect a full report as soon as I arrive. Over.”

  “Of course. Over and out.”

  Carson handed the radio back over to the junior officer. “Captain Heinz, weigh anchor and sail for the dive boat’s coordinates, por favor.”

  The captain fixed Carson with a steely glare. “At once, sir.”

  Carson bowed slightly, turned and left the bridge. A grim smile spread across his face. Carson found the captain’s hatred of him amusing. He saw no reason for his crew to like him, as long as they got the job done, and they did their jobs well. Hector was the only man on board that Carson called friend.

  Back on deck, Carson leaned against the railing, gazing out over the miles of cobalt ocean. The mysterious island lay just to the east of their course. They would pass it on the way to the spot where Hector and his team were diving.

  Carson made up his mind to be on the alert. He wished he could convince himself that what he’d seen had been his imagination. But, he’d never been prone to such things, and he trusted his own senses. Something very strange was happening on that island, and Carson wanted to make certain that it didn’t interfere with his recovery of Lady Death’s treasure.

  Carson heard the creak and groan of the anchor being hauled up. Not long after, the ship began to move. He lifted his binoculars and trained them on the island.

  * * * * *

  El Cazador eased neatly into position about forty meters from the dive boat. The smaller craft’s engine roared to life. From his vantage point on deck, Carson could see Hector at the wheel, nudging the little boat close to El Cazador’s side before her anchor even hit bottom.

  Carson walked over to the head of the rope ladder that the crew slung over so that the dive team could come aboard. The men scrambled up the ladder as if demons were at their heels, chattering in Swahili and Arabic.

  Hector followed more slowly, tying off the dive boat before climbing up the ladder. Carson greeted him with an embrace.

  “Hector. Please, come to my office and tell me what has happened. The dive crew seems quite upset.”

  Hector’s expression was grim as he fell into step beside Carson. “I can hardly blame them. What has happened today has shaken us all.”

  Carson glanced at his old friend as they left the open deck and started down the carpeted hallway to his office. To anyone else, Hector probably would have seemed perfectly calm. But Carson had known him since they were children. He saw the faint thinning of Hector’s lips, the slightly too-wide eyes, the ashen tinge to his deep brown skin. Something had rattled Hector badly, a rare event indeed.

  Carson didn’t ask questions until they were behind closed doors. In the privacy of his office, Carson waved Hector into one of the plush leather chairs. He poured two glasses of bourbon, handed one to his friend and settled himself into the other chair.

  “Tell me,” he said.

  Hector took a sip of his drink. “There’s a ship there, in twenty-five meters of water. It’s nearly intact. There’s a large hole in the starboard bow.”

  “So she didn’t go down in a storm. King Leopold’s men sank her.” Carson ran a thumb
along the rim of his glass. “What happened down there, Hector?”

  “We were attacked,” Hector said bluntly.

  Carson sat forward, eyes fixed on Hector’s face. “Attacked? By who?”

  “Not who,” Hector answered solemnly. “What.”

  Carson frowned. “Explain.”

  “We were looking for a way into the hold when we were set upon by what appeared to be a group of giant octopi. They attempted to pull off our SCUBA gear and drag us away from the wreck.” Hector swirled his bourbon in his glass, watching the amber liquid with a strange gleam in his eye. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Carson scoffed. “The giant octopus is hardly an aggressive creature, nor does it hunt in groups. You must have misunderstood their behavior.”

  “You weren’t there, Carson. I was. They attacked each member of our group simultaneously and in an identical manner. Those of us who did not immediately withdraw were attacked again, with greater aggression.” Hector fixed Carson with a piercing stare. “They were working together, Carson. Whatever is down there, I believe that they are guarding it.”

  If anyone else in the world had said that, Carson would have dismissed the idea immediately and fired the person who proposed such a thing. However, he’d known Hector for twenty-five years. He trusted his judgment.

  “You think that these creatures are protecting the diamonds?” Carson asked.

  Hector frowned, brow furrowing. “I suppose so. I can’t imagine what else they could be protecting.”

  “Very well.” Carson stood, set his glass on his desk and crossed his arms. “Tomorrow, I will dive with you. We’ll go armed with spear guns. Two men will be posted as look-outs. We’ll have to work out a signal that they can give if these ... unusual animals appear again.”

  “There’s no hurry,” Hector said, watching Carson a little warily. “We should take the time to study them. If we can understand their behavior, we can find a way to keep them from attacking us.”

  “No, we don’t have that sort of time.” Carson started pacing, tapping his chin with one finger. “We need to find those diamonds and begin the recovery as soon as possible.”

  “For God’s sake, why?” Hector rose to his feet, looming over Carson with a scowl on his face. “I will not put the lives of my team at risk for your impatience, my friend.” His eyes narrowed. “There’s something you haven’t told me. What is it?”

  Carson held Hector’s angry gaze without flinching. “That small island to the east. I’ve been watching it. I’ve seen some strange things there. I’m not sure what it means, but I will not have this treasure taken from me because my team are cowards.”

  Hector’s expression turned thunderous, and Carson smiled inwardly. He knew better than anyone that Hector and the dive team were hardly cowards. But he also knew his friend. They’d both been brought up to hold honor and courage as all-important. Hector would certainly ignore the insult to himself, since he knew Carson didn’t think him cowardly, but he would not allow his men to be disparaged so.

  “Do not say such things about my team,” Hector growled.

  Carson spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “What am I to think, amigo?”

  Hector glared. Carson met his angry gaze with cold, determined calm.

  “Very well,” Hector relented, clearly not happy. “We dive tomorrow morning, at first light. Every man will be armed. Four look-outs will be posted, not two.” He shoved a thick finger against Carson’s chest. “If any of my team is injured, I will hold you personally responsible.”

  Carson nodded. “Agreed.”

  Hector stared like he’d never seen Carson before. He seemed about to speak, but didn’t. Turning away, he left without a word.

  Carson went to the porthole and stood sipping his drink, wondering if he’d just lost the only true friend he’d ever had. The thought of the wealth waiting for him below the sparkling ocean surface took the sting out of that possibility.

  Smiling, Carson sat down at his desk to plan the next day’s dive.

  * * * * *

  The morning dawned fine and hot and breathless. No breeze stirred the calm waters, and the sea gleamed like a mirror in the early light. Carson stared at the smooth swells as he donned his gear on the deck of the dive boat. So many secrets lay hidden beneath that bright surface. Too many for one man to discover. It angered him sometimes, that there were so many wonders lost under the water, wonders he would never see.

  But we have found Lady Death, he reminded himself. And I will have her.

  “Carson. I wish you would reconsider this.”

  Carson turned to frown at Hector. “We dive as planned. Are the men ready?”

  “Yes. But they’re afraid.”

  “We are well armed, and this time we know what to expect. All will be well, my friend.” Carson shouldered his tanks, glanced at the gauges and took an experimental breath from the regulator. Everything seemed to be in order. “How close are we to the wreck?”

  “About one hundred meters. We will go down the anchor line and swim east along the bottom. The visibility is excellent and there’s very little current.” Hector shook his head. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “As long as everyone does as they are told and no one panics if we are attacked, we’ll be fine.” Carson smiled and clapped Hector on the shoulder. “Think of the diamonds, amigo. We are about to be very wealthy, you and I.”

  “You already have more money than any man needs, as do I. Is it truly worth risking our lives for more?”

  “You’re diving with me, are you not?” Carson pointed out.

  Hector glowered, but said nothing. Carson smiled to himself. Hector could pretend all he liked, but his thirst for wealth was no less than Carson’s.

  Despite their grumbling and whispering, the team was ready to go within minutes. Drifting down the anchor line behind Hector, a spear gun in his hand and his dive knife strapped to his leg, Carson allowed himself a moment to wonder yet again about the island. He’d been watching it through the binoculars that morning, in the pre-dawn half-light. He’d seen a quick flash of white skin and pale hair as someone moved through the scrubby bushes in the center of the island. However, this time, he hadn’t seen the strange transformation he thought he’d witnessed before, when the unknown person plunged into the sea. This time, he’d seen a pair of dark eyes, staring right at him.

  Somehow, someone else knew about his treasure. They must not be allowed to reach it before he did.

  He hadn’t told Hector what he’d seen that morning. His friend would have stopped the dive if he’d known that the weapons weren’t only for defense against aggressive sea creatures.

  At the bottom of the anchor line, Carson moved aside and waited for the rest of the team to finish their descent. When the entire group was gathered on the sea floor, they moved off to the east, with Hector leading the way and Carson behind him. Four of the men fanned out around the group to act as guards and lookouts. They were to bang their knife handles against their tanks if anything dangerous was spotted.

  The swim to the wreck site passed without incident. The ship loomed out of the blue like a phantom, her bow pointing nearly due east. The mast and sails were gone, but the hull was, as Hector had said, almost completely intact. Carson felt a thrill go through him. The first sight of a lost ship never failed to excite him, especially when there was treasure to be found.

  Following the plan they’d worked out earlier, Hector led the team on a slow circuit of the hull. They’d been unable to find a way into the hold from the deck, as the main stairway seemed to have been destroyed. Carson hoped that there would be a breach somewhere in the hull wide enough to allow them passage.

  The hole in the bow turned out to be the only breach. Using hand signals, Carson instructed the men to widen the opening enough for the team to pass.

  They were nearly done when Carson heard the frantic clang of metal against metal. He spun just in time to
see the lookout’s knife fall from his hand as an enormous octopus ripped away the man’s mask and regulator.

  Between one breath and the next, the water around them swarmed with huge blue-gray tentacled monsters. The fierceness of their attack was stunning, as was the extent of their coordination. They worked together with a synchronicity that was nearly telepathic, their movements eerily graceful. Carson found himself admiring the creatures, even as he recognized the need to destroy them.

  Realizing that the spear guns would be useless at such close range, Carson drew his knife and slashed at the first octopus within reach. The blade caught it across two tentacles, clouding the water with blood. A chill raced up Carson’s spine when instead of withdrawing, the thing tore the knife from his hand and tossed it aside.

  Something niggled at his mind in that moment, a strange sense of familiarity that raised goosebumps on his arms. Carson stared hard at the beast floating in front of him. Its enormous black eyes stared back at him with far more intelligence than he liked.

  With shocking suddenness, the feeling of vague recognition sharpened and solidified, and Carson remembered. His eyes went wide. However, before he could act, something smashed into his head from behind. The regulator was forced from his mouth, his mask knocked askew. He rolled in the water, dazed and unsure which way the surface lay. He saw the sun’s disc wavering through the endless blue, then everything went dark.

  * * * * *

  When Carson came to, he was lying on his side on the deck of El Cazador, staring at the railing. He sat up, closing his eyes against the wave of dizziness that hit him. When the world stopped spinning, he cautiously opened his eyes again.

  His crew was dashing around, shouting at each other in several different languages. Turning to his left, Carson saw two bodies covered with tarps. So, the monsters will kill to protect the treasure. Carson wasn’t surprised. In a way, it made what he knew he had to do easier.