Of Poseidon 02: Of Triton

context. That Galen could be lying and tricking me as well. Which is why physical proof—a walking blob of Grom DNA—is needed. “She won’t believe it’s him. You have to bring him to us.”
    He lets out a gust of air into the phone. “Emma, listen to me,” he says, and stupidly, I press the phone tighter to my ear. “I need you to stall your mom. We’re about two hours away from you. Don’t let her take off again.”
    I roll my eyes. “Yeah, it was stupid of me to let her drug me that last time. Really should have seen that one coming.”
    I can almost hear Galen grin. “Be good, angelfish. We’ll be there soon.”
    I hang up the phone and stare at it for a couple of seconds, at the dirt crusted around each number. This phone, this decaying hotel room, has probably seen a lot of things in its time. But I doubt it’s heard a conversation like that. A conversation in which a fish prince is trying to hunt down a dead fish princess and her half-human daughter using the stealth of an ex-mobster.
    “I’d hoped we could trust each other, sweetie.”
    I startle at Mom, who’s standing by the bathroom door, arms crossed. Fully dressed. Fully dry. The shower is still going full blast. She must have heard everything. “You don’t know for sure he’s lying,” I tell her, trying not to visibly gulp.
    “Pack up. We’re leaving.”
    “Grom’s in the car with Galen.” I pick up the phone again and point the earpiece at her. “You could talk to him if you don’t believe me.”
    She walks over to me and takes the phone. She stares at it long enough for the receiver to start an impatient out-of-order buzz. She slams it down on the receiver. “It’s just a trick, Emma. Pack up.”
    “I’m not going.”
    “Oh, but you are.”
    It’s the first time I realize my mom could probably take me in a tussle. She’s full-blooded Syrena. Her bones are harder, her skin ticker, her build more muscular. She fought off Galen and Toraf. Plus, there’s this look in her eye right now. A survival-instinct kind of look. A make-the-hard-choice kind of look. And she’s already proven to what lengths she’ll go to keep me “safe.”
    It’s a weird feeling to size up your mom like this. I decide it’s so weird, so unnatural, that I don’t give it any more thought. So I can’t stall my mom here. The opportunity will present itself again, I’m sure. Some how, some way, I will put her face-to-face with Galen again. And I will find out the truth. I stand. “They’ll find us, you know.”
    “We’ll see about that.”

4

    GALEN PEERS into the rearview mirror at Rayna and Toraf in the backseat. They’re leaned up against each other by their temples, sound asleep. Must be nice.
    But even if Galen didn’t have to drive, he still wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not with Grom here. Grom, wearing human clothes. Grom, buckled up in an SUV. Grom, cocking his head slightly toward the speaker in his door, trying to listen to the human music without appearing too interested.
    Grom, who hasn’t said a single word since they left Emma’s house.
    “She thinks you’re dead,” Galen tells his brother without looking at him. “She thinks she killed you. Why would she think that?” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Grom glance in his direction. Still, he’s not expecting it when his brother actually answers.
    “She’s probably blaming herself. For the explosion.”
    “So, she came to land because of a guilty conscience?”
    “She was always hoarding the blame for things that weren’t her fault.” Then his brother actually smiles. “Most things were her fault, mind you, but even when they weren’t, she wanted to keep the blame all to herself.” After a moment, he says, “I would have loved to see her tie Rayna up. When she was bent on something, there was very little that ever got in the way of doing it.”
    This takes Galen by surprise. Up until now, Grom had always struck Galen as … well, as old-fashioned. Not that his brother ever had a choice—he was always destined to mate the firstborn third-generation heir of the Poseidon house. It didn’t mean he had to enjoy his union with Nalia, but by the looks of it, he was fairly smitten. Which doesn’t sound like the Grom Galen knows. Most Syrena males seek out docile females for their mates. It seems that noble Grom had fallen for the exact opposite. Nalia is the definition of feisty. And if she’s even a fraction of the feisty that Emma is, then Grom had his