Chapter Two

He'd lost Sam. The Nereids had taken him. God, he'd lost his brother to a bunch of sea-bitches who liked to hold their prey under water until they drowned before munching on them for dinner. Sam could be dead, drowned at the bottom of the bay and he'd never be able to find him. Dean mentally shook himself to get it together but it was damn near impossible. He pulled himself up into the rowboat, his chest clenched as tight as a guitar string. His breathing grew even more agitated. Who was he kidding? This was Sam, his little brother who could be dead. He wasn't ever going to get calm about that.

Instead, Dean shoved the last three grenades into the mesh divers bag, strapped the rubber-holstered divers knife to his ankle and started rowing toward the next cave. He'd bet his last dollar the sea-monkeys had taken his brother inside one of those. God, he hoped he was right.

The first cave, well third cave he'd gone into today was deep yet low ceilinged. There was one small shelf with only three of the gushy eggs on it, no broken shells and no younger brother. They looked yellowish, sick, if you could call a Nereid egg sick. Whatever. They just weren't thriving here. Dean debated taking the time to take care of them since it didn't look as though they were going to hatch anyway, but in the end he jumped out and stabbed them all. Took less than a minute all the while Dean feared that might be a minute his sibling didn't have.

Panic surged through his body, making his limbs shake and his hands clasp too hard around the oar handles as he rowed out of the little cave and toward the next one.

"You got to be kidding me." Dean stared into what looked like a natural made drainage ditch, barely wide enough for one man to go through at a time. It was completely submerged except for about an inch of air at the top, which was the only way he had even found the opening. He didn't know how far in it went, if it got any larger, or if the pocket of air remained. They didn't have any oxygen containers, didn't think they'd need it. His eyes narrowed at the opening. He didn't want to go in there, yet he knew that's exactly what he was going to do. Jaw set, he shook his head. What he wouldn't do for Sammy. He threw the little anchor overboard to keep the boat in place.

Quickly he rummaged through the bag Sam had equipped, seeing if there was anything else he could use and came up with flippers and one of those flashlights you strapped to your forehead. Perfect, He kicked off his wet boots and socks, pulled on the flippers, flicked on the light and twisted the Velcro strap around his head to keep the beam in place before rolling into the water.

He didn't hesitate at the entrance. Sam was in there, Dean's spidey-brother sense was tingling. This isn't bad, he told himself as he floated on his back, keeping his mouth and nose above water just an inch near the stone ceiling as he pulled himself along. Not creepy at all. The flippers worked great, propelling him strongly with each kick. I'm just like a freaking navy seal, deployed on a secret rescue mission, he told himself to keep himself calm. His heartbeat was loud, resonating through him with his ears below the water line. Was the tunnel closing in? How freaking long was this tunnel? His pulse ramped up.

Until suddenly the ceiling opened up. He was out. Dean spun around, treading in the water as the light's beam bounced around a high cavern ceiling and curving rock-hewn walls. It looked like water had once carved out a rocky bowl letting air fill the cavern as the ocean drained back down to sea level.

The beam followed his gaze as Dean moved his head slowly to take in the area. There was a long ledge here, but no eggs. The light played over something white at the water's edge. Dean jerked his gaze, bringing the light back to it.

It was one of the Nereids, upper body out of the water curled over . . .

Dean was swimming forward before he even completed the thought. The bitch was curled over Sam's back.

Sam was halfway out of the water, arms flung wide and limp, the side of his face pressed against the rocky ledge, eyes closed . . . and the fugly was curled over him, petting his brother's wet hair beneath those hideously large webbed hands like he was a puppy.

The bitch hadn't moved. She'd seen him all right, had been watching his approach, but was too enamored of Sam to be bothered about it. Either that or she didn't see Dean as a threat. Last mistake she'd ever make. Dean had his knife out and slicing into the back of the Nereid's neck a second before she sprang back hissing, too late to do her any good. Her tail slapped at Dean, tossing him into the ledge. The wave made Sam's body and arm bob.

Lunging again, Dean jumped on the water-ape and they both went under, but the blade struck true, pushing down into the heart. Dean held on, twisting it, twisting, jerking until the arms went lax, the body still. Kicking her away, Dean wrenched the blade free and swam back up.

Sam hadn't moved. Don't be dead. God, don't be dead. Sam floated, legs angled downward by the weight of his heavy wet boots and jeans. His cheek rested on the slick stone. One arm floated freely while the other was higher on the ledge twisted in some sort of weed that grew out of the rock, his fingers limp. It looked as though Sam knew he was about to pass out and quickly shoved his arm into the vegetation to keep himself anchored.

God, Sammy. Dean's heart slammed inside his ribs at just how close he'd been to losing him. "Come on, Sam, wake up." He tapped his face while scanning the area for the other two Nereids. "Come on, bro. Gotta get out of the water."

He lifted Sam's head from the rock, nudging him. "Sam."

Lips twitched into a frown before there was movement beneath the eyelids. "Sam, come on. We don't have time for this. Sea monkeys will be back any time so we gotta crawl out of this water."

"Sea monkeys?" Sam slurred, still not opening his eyes.

"Nereids. Come on, you with me?"

"Yeah." Finally the eyes slid open and then squinted again at the direct beam of light pointed at him.

"Sorry." Dean pushed the square flashlight to the side of his forehead. "Can you get out?"

"Uh, yeah." Sam twisted his arm out of the weeds and bracing on the rock, tried to push up, but only sank farther into the water.

"That'd be a no," Dean said. "Here." He hoisted himself out, and then gripped Sam beneath the arms and began edging backwards, pulling his dead weight of a brother up. "Dude, what do they pack in those salads you eat?"

"Three pounds of lead," Sam whispered, his hands braced on the rock, trying to help Dean pull him out.

"Feels like it. Swing your leg up."

Shaking badly, the tendons in his arms popping out, Sam's knee cleared the water just as a webbed hand lifted out of the water and slapped onto his thigh.

Sam's body dragged back down, nearly wrenching out of Dean's grasp. Both brothers shouted at once.

Dean's hands slid across Sam's arms, jerking at his brother's wrists.

Sam's eyes were huge, terrified. "Dean!" Another wrench pulled him farther into the water. Dean braced backward, Sam's body stretched out in a deadly tug-of-war. "Don't let go! Dean!"

The damn flippers Dean had on were sliding toward the edge. Sam was sliding, up to his neck in the water. Dean's grip was slipping.

"Noooooooo!"

In a froth of spray the sea bitch leaped up and ripped Sam away from Dean. The last glimpse Dean had was tips of brown hair swirling away from view.