Children of the Sea 01 - Sea Witch

cool facade, there were currents swirling she did not understand. Rivalry or injured pride or . . . He had wanted her once.
     
    She shrugged. “I did not think the relationship had any relevance to you.”
     
    Dylan showed his teeth in a thin smile. “I could say the same.”
     
    “Who was your mother?” Margred asked.
     
    Dylan looked out to sea. Perhaps, like his brother, he needed encouragement to talk.
     
    “Did I know her?”
     
    “You probably know of her. Our dam was Atargatis.”
     
    Margred hissed in surprise.
     
    Atargatis was one of the ancient ones, almost as old as Llyr himself.
    Legends and prophecies clustered around her name like barnacles on a rock.
     
    “I did not know she was still alive.”
     
    “She’s not. She drowned shortly after returning with me to the sea.
    Trapped in a fisherman’s net.” Dylan’s mouth twisted. “Ironic, since our father was a fisherman.”
     
    Margred shivered. “But she is immortal. She would have been reborn again.”
     
    “Maybe. I’ve never looked for her. What would be the point?”
     
    “She is your mother.”
     
    “I don’t need a mother anymore. Especially not one years younger than me with only vague memories of who I am.”
     
    She smothered a flicker of sympathy. “You would rather attach yourself to the prince?”
     
    172
    “I enjoy the prince’s favor. Conn believes there is power in our lineage, although the prophecies speak only of the daughters of our house.”
     
    The daughters . . .
     
    Margred’s breath caught. “Your sister?”
     
    But Dylan shook his head. “Lucy is not selkie. She has never Changed. I know. Conn set me to . . . watch her, for many years.”
     
    “And your brother?”
     
    “What of him?”
     
    “Do you spy on him, too?”
     
    “He left the island,” Dylan said flatly. “Where he went and what he did after that is no concern of mine.”
     
    Margred tilted her head. “So you only care who he fucks?”
     
    Dylan’s lean face flushed.
     
    “Did you know he had been wounded?” she asked.
     
    “Caleb? When? How?”
     
    “He was a soldier in the desert. He still has scars.”
     
    And nightmares. But she would not expose those to Dylan. She had perhaps said too much already.
     
    “Is that why you stay with him? Because you feel sorry for him?”
     
    “No!” Whatever she felt for Caleb was not pity. Nor was it any of his brother’s business. “I stay because . . . because I cannot leave. My pelt was stolen from me. Destroyed. Conn did not tell you?”
     
    “He said—the muc mara claimed you were attacked. By demons.
    Which is crap.”
     
    “Why?”
     
    173
    Dylan regarded her with patient disbelief, his expression so like Caleb’s that Margred’s stomach tightened. “Elementals do not prey on other elementals,” he said.
     
    “Wrong. The demons have been warring with the children of the air since the creation of mankind.”
     
    “A war that has nothing to do with us.”
     
    Margred arched her brows. “Even though you are half human?”
     
    Dylan stiffened. “I am selkie. Anyway, the fire spawn have no reason or excuse to attack you.”
     
    “I was not aware they needed an excuse.”
     
    “Of course they do. Margred, think. The children of the sea have always been neutral in Hell’s war on humankind. Why would a demon target you and risk the king’s anger?”
     
    His argument shook her. But she said, “Oh, as if Llyr would even notice.”
     
    “Conn, then,” Dylan said. “He would not ignore an attack on one of his people.”
     
    She glared at him. “No, he would just send you, and you would declare it to be impossible.”
     
    “At least admit it is unlikely. Why would the fire folk upset the balance of power?”
     
    “I don’t know. I am not a politician.” Frustration welled inside her like an underwater spring. She had told Caleb as much of the truth as she dared, and he had not believed her. Now Dylan did not believe her either.
    “I want my pelt back.”
     
    Sympathy softened the hard lines of his face. “Margred . . .” He reached for her.
     
    She bared her teeth.
     
    174
    His arms dropped back at his sides. “Be reasonable. Why would a demon take your pelt?”
     
    “To destroy me.”
     
    “To what end?”
     
    “I tell you, I don’t know .” Despair made her shrill.
     
    “Isn’t it more likely you were attacked by a human? A fisherman,”
    Dylan suggested. As if she could not tell the difference between a man