Treasure Tides Part 1

Treasure Tides.

The Coins.

By Deniece Greene.

DEDICATION.

This book is dedicated to my daughter Rebekah. You have been the light of my life for the past 23 years. I am proud of the young woman you have become. You are smart, beautiful and talented; with a heart too big for your own good. Follow your dreams! You are capable of anything you set your heart on. I'm so glad G.o.d gave you to me.

I love you!!

Mom.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Thank you Clara, for the beautiful beach photo featured on the cover of this book. You are a very creative and talented photographer.

Thank you to Lily, Megan, and Natalie for the inspiration you provided. I'm so thankful for my girls. I love you all and am proud of each and every one of you. I am blessed by your love, creative personalities, and energetic enjoyment of life.

I would also like to thank my husband (my very own Prince Charming), who washed and dried countless loads of laundry, supplied dinner (you notice I didn't say cooked), and generally took care of everything... while I typed, and typed, and typed. I Love you!

To my parents...your love and support have been the catalyst behind us all. Thank you for continuing to love and guide us through the many

twists and turns of our lives. Thank you for being the best parents in the world!

Thank you to other friends and family members (who shall remain nameless), for the colorful inspiration you continue to provide.

To those we have lost...you are missed.

Mrs. Linda Welch - teacher, mentor, editor, friend. If all English teachers could be like you, the World would have more authors in it today. You always expected the best from your students and patiently worked with us until we succeeded. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for wielding that red pen twenty-some odd years ago... (OK, maybe closer to thirty)... and for removing a million commas from this ma.n.u.script!!

Katherine Land-- Cover Artist Queen! Thank you for taking a beautiful photo and making it so much more. Your intuitiveness, talent, and artistic abilities are amazing. Great job Kate!

The characters and events in this book are fict.i.tious. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fict.i.tiously.

CHAPTER ONE.

What is that G.o.d-awful noise? Royce thought as he struggled to open his eyes through the sledge hammer pounding on his skull. It seemed to be keeping time to the beat of music blaring from extremely large speakers in very close proximity.

"Oh my G.o.d, Jonah, you are giving me a headache," Natie said rubbing her temples. "I want to relax and work on my tan, not listen to you pound on that stupid crate. I don't know why Becki had to bring that thing on board anyway. It's probably full of junk no-one else wanted, a stupid time-capsule or something."

"Well we won't know if we don't get it open, will we?" Jonah asked snidely, as he continued to pound and pry using the limited resources he had available on the boat.

"Seriously, leave the stupid thing alone, Jonah! Uncle Kurt has the tools to open it at his house and you are giving me a headache! Give it a rest!"

"My breathing gives you a headache," Jonah complained, as he threw the hammer and screw driver he had been using into a small tool box.

Becki ignored the exchange between Natie and Jonah; concentrating instead on rinsing the salt.w.a.ter from her mask and regulator. She would take the equipment home and dump it in the bathtub to clean it thoroughly, but this would work for now. Salt.w.a.ter deposits could build up and destroy scuba gear if it wasn't properly cared for.

Becki had hoped to find a few sharks' teeth while she and Jonah were diving, but they had not had any luck today. She had found a crate though, the one Natie and Jonah were arguing over; of course, they had been arguing over one thing or another for the last four years, so why should today be any different?

Becki shook her head and continued to clean her equipment as Natie continued to argue with Jonah. Meanwhile Royce struggled to piece together the events of the past few days. Where the h.e.l.l was he? He tried s.h.i.+fting into a more comfortable position, but seemed to be tightly wedged into an awfully small s.p.a.ce.

Royce St. John led a Special Operations Force, for the Secret Council of Elders. "The Council" consisted of both mortal and immortal members, and Chief Elder Arimus ruled with a strong hand. Their primary function; to make sure humans continued to believe Vampires, Werewolves, Witches, and other mythical beings were just that, a myth.

Royce's team had been activated to locate and return a set of coins that had been stolen centuries ago. The coins were quite special and potentially deadly. If this particular set of coins ended up in the wrong hands, the consequences could be devastating to the entire World.

As his brain struggled to a.n.a.lyze exactly where he might be, he heard something that made his blood run cold.

"Jonah, don't worry about the crate right now. I'll get Uncle Kurt to work on it," Becki offered, hoping to avoid the inevitable shouting match between Natie and Jonah.

"Fine," Jonah agreed. "I'll just shove it off to the side, and you can deal with it later. Hand me a beer, would you?"

Suddenly, Royce felt himself moving. What the h.e.l.l?

"s.h.i.+t, Becki," Jonah complained as he shoved the crate out of the center of the walkway, "this crate seems heavier than it did when we pulled it out of water. Kurt may have to come and pick the b.i.t.c.h up."

Royce began to feel ill. This could not be right! His brain could not be functioning properly; there was no way h.e.l.l he could be...trapped in a crate?

"Jonah, do you have to cuss all the time? You know I don't like to hear it. You could say the same thing without using those words," Natie said. Since her eyes never left the article she was currently reading, she didn't see Jonah flip her off.

"I don't like to hear you complaining all the time, but that doesn't stop you," Jonah responded.

Becki groaned inwardly. The constant bickering between Natie and Jonah were about to get on her very last nerve. If she had to watch him flirt with one more waitress, counter worker, or tourist, things were going to get ugly. He was definitely not the kind of person she would have picked for Natie, but Becki would tolerate him because she loved her sister.

Natie's dad had married Becki's mother when the girls were five years old. From that day to this, the Stephens Girls were a sight to behold and double-trouble when they needed to be. Becki wasn't sure how much more of Jonah's obnoxious behavior she could tolerate before he got an up-close introduction to TROUBLE...in all capital letters.

Royce was a person of process. He needed to think things through from the beginning and then figure out how to get out of this mess. He couldn't just burst out of the crate like a bimbo popping out of a lifesized birthday cake at some old geezer's ninetieth birthday party.

Royce tuned out the bickering still going on between the two lovebirds and got down to business.

The Secret Council of Elders had contacted Royce and his Special Ops Team to recover a set of missing coins. Arimus, the Chief Elder, had explained that the coins were originally Merlin's, who had "spelled" each of them centuries ago. Unfortunately, the coins had been stolen by Pierce Regan, a rogue warlock, who had then disappeared. Pierce had eventually double-crossed the wrong immortal and met a gruesome end. At some point, the coins had been separated and fallen into circulation among the general population.

The coins should have been easy to locate and recover. Merlin, fearing they might someday fall into the wrong hands, had built in a failsafe. He had hidden a unique frequency in each coin as he created them. The hidden frequency should have functioned similarly to a modern day "homing beacon". However, because Pierce had been a trusted friend to Merlin he knew what measures to take in order to avoid discovery. After stealing the coins, Pierce had "cloaked" them all by wrapping each coin separately in a spell crafted specifically to suppress the unique frequency Merlin had so carefully woven into each one.

Witches, working for the Council, had been trying to lift the "magic cloak" for hundreds of years. Unfortunately, the task had turned out to be very difficult, almost impossible. Recently, however, they had been receiving intermittent signals from the coins. The Council had decided it was time to turn the reins over to their Special Ops Team. That was where the story ended, according to Arimus, the Council leader.

However, it was beginning to appear that a few pertinent details might have been omitted during the briefing. It seems that someone or something else had also taken an interest in coin collecting. Royce would be clearing up that situation with Arimus... just as soon as he got out of the d.a.m.n box.

ART, otherwise known as the "Artifact Recovery Team" was Royce's baby. They had successfully tracked one of the coins from Italy, to Savanna, and finally to Charleston, South Carolina. Royce had then simply walked into an antique shop and casually purchased the priceless coin for a bargain price of two-hundred dollars. The owner of the antique shop had discovered the "rare coin" while cleaning out her brother's apartment shortly after his death.

"The circ.u.mstances surrounding my brother's death were a little sketchy," she had confided to Royce. Evidently his body had been found in an alley, riddled with puncture wounds and deep gashes. The authorities suspected his injuries were sustained as a result of an "animal attack", but Royce had other ideas as to what might have caused Allen Baker's death.

Royce had expressed his sympathy at her loss, purchased the coin, and then asked the shopkeeper to wrap it in one of her small velvet pouches "to prevent it from being scratched". He was somewhat amazed at how easily this coin had been recovered.

Pocketing the coin, he mentally drew a hash-mark; one down, five to go. Royce remembered holding the door open for an older gentleman as he was exiting the shop; the gentleman had tipped his hat, smiled, and wished Royce a good day.

Something about that little man had seemed peculiar. Royce couldn't shake the feeling, so he had contacted Sean with instructions to pull surveillance video of the area to review.

"No can do boss," Sean had immediately responded. "The surveillance cameras are down."

"s.h.i.+t," Royce did not like to be told no. "When will they be back on-line?"

"Not sure, it shouldn't be too long. I'll see if I can get him when he leaves the shop," Sean had promised.

Still, one coin had been easily secured and in the spirit of celebration, Royce had decided to treat himself to a detour through White Point Gardens. He had planned to enjoy the majestic Oaks and Spanish-moss one last time before leaving the city. And that is where it all went to h.e.l.l in a hand basket.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h," Royce muttered.

"Jonah! I thought I asked you to stop with the language," Natie snapped immediately.

Oops! Royce almost laughed aloud, but that would not be a good idea... so he settled for a silent chuckle.

"What? I didn't--" Jonah began defensively.

"Natie," Becki interrupted, "are you sure you don't want to go down with me tomorrow and hunt for teeth?" she asked; as if she didn't already know the answer to that question.

"Need I remind you that if you are finding sharks' teeth, there have been or still are sharks out there?" Natie s.h.i.+vered.

"Don't be a big baby. The water temperature is awesome, and I promise to protect you if we run into sharks, eels, giant octopi or any other man-eating sea creature," Becki said biting her lip. She tried, but could not mask the laughter sparkling in her eyes.

Sharks! What the--? Had Royce heard correctly?

After reaching White Point Gardens, Royce remembered feeling a p.r.i.c.kly-tingling sensation. He scanned the area while reaching for his weapon; he sensed they were close by. He caught a glimpse of- What? Who? Witches, it had to be. They had to be responsible for boxing him up like last year's Christmas decorations. As if simply immobilizing him were not enough, they had evidently then dumped him in the ocean. Why? Presumably, their intent had been to slow him down. If they had wanted him dead, he would be shark food by now.

Royce breathed as deeply as the confined s.p.a.ce would allow. While he was appreciative of the magical seal around the crate, he would not be pa.s.sing out forgiveness any time soon; when he found those Witchy women...well, the reunion would not be pleasant.

"Ha!" Natie scoffed. "You know I'm not going down in those sharkinfested waters with you! I'm perfectly content right here." Natie was not really what you would consider the "outdoorsy type", she didn't like bugs or snakes, didn't like the ocean because there were fish in it, was not a fan of camping, hiking, or anything else that did not involve at least four stars and room service. With long blond hair and big blue eyes, she was used to being flirted with, pampered, and catered to. Everyone loved Natie. Well, everyone except Jonah it seemed.

"I wish I could get this stupid thing open," Jonah said, smacking the top of the crate as he pa.s.sed by.

He and Becki had been diving earlier in shallow water, looking for sharks' teeth, when she spotted the crate. It looked fairly new, wasn't overly large, and turned out to be fairly light weight. Becki sure hoped it wasn't full of drugs or something else illegal. She planned to text her uncle to ask if he could help her open it tomorrow.

Kurt, her mother's brother, was a master diver and an expert in "all-things-ocean". He was also a building contractor with a garage full of tools; surely they could find something to pry off that stubborn lid. G.o.d knew Jonah could barely open a can of beer, and the thought of power tools in his hand was enough to send her screaming into the next county.

"Don't worry about it Jonah," Becki said, standing up to stretch. "I'll deal with it later. Right now, we need to pull anchor and get back to the marina."

Becki made her way to the captain's chair calling over her shoulder, "What are you guys doing tonight? Are you going to come in to the Pub later?"

Jonah started to answer, "That sounds--"

"No!" Natie interrupted him. "We are going downtown for a carriage ride after dinner, and then having an early night. I have a seaweed body wrap and spa pedicure scheduled for tomorrow morning." Glancing toward Becki she asked, "Do you want to go with?"

"I guess we aren't going to the Pub," Jonah sarcastically rolled his eyes.

Becki concentrated on guiding the boat back toward the marina. She loved her sister, but Jonah? Not so much. Together, they could wear you out like no other. There was no way Natie could be happy with him. As high-school sweet hearts, they had been a cute couple, one of the in crowd. The fire had dimmed somewhere around the time that Natie had caught Jonah with their mutual friend Rena. Why they continued to torture each other remained a mystery to everyone. Break-up, make-up seemed to be the theme of their relations.h.i.+p. Their life was nothing but drama, drama, drama. Natie, with her natural charisma, collected admirers everywhere she went, which in turn tended to make Jonah jealous. She loved to look good and thrived on attention, but Natie was a one-man-woman. Unfortunately, Jonah was that one man.

Becki checked the time. Her s.h.i.+ft started at six o'clock this evening, so there was no way she could clean off the boat right now. Chances were good that she could talk Landon into meeting her at the marina after work to pick up the crate and her diving gear.

"Have fun tonight, and give me a call after your pedicure and seaweed wrap. You know that appointment is way too early for me," Becki said as she hugged Natie. By-pa.s.sing Jonah, she rushed to the parking lot and quickly climbed into her cute little yellow sports car. The car had been a gift from her parents and was just perfect for zipping around town. The down side was the lack of cargo s.p.a.ce, definitely not enough room for the crate. She waved at the couple as she zoomed past them.

"Anything before noon is too early for you!" Natie yelled. This was so true. Becki enjoyed nothing more than lazing in bed in the morning. Too bad there hadn't been anyone she wanted to 'laze' with lately. Where was her dream man anyway?

"Royce. Are you there? Royce? Come on man, answer me. Royce!" What have those Witches done? Royce wondered. Now I'm hearing voices.

Could it get any worse?

"Royce. It's me, Sean." Royce wrinkled his brow. That voice sounded awfully real.

"I know you hear me man, respond!"

He couldn't even think straight, much less respond. That sounded a lot like his Techno-Expert, Sean.

"Royce, your watch is a video transmitter. Talk to me."

Glancing in the direction of his wrist, Royce saw a glow. Angling his wrist to get a better look, which was not easy in the confined s.p.a.ce, he saw Sean's goofy face on the screen of his watch.