Of Poseidon

he tells himself. “There isn’t anyone yet. But I’m sure there would be if I spent more time at home.”
    “Right. And why is it that you’re always away? Maybe you’re searching for something and don’t even know it.”
    “I’m away because I’m watching the humans, as is my responsibility, you might remember. You also might remember they’re the real reason our kingdoms are divided. If they never set that mine, none of this would have happened. And we both know it will happen again.”
    “Come on, Galen. If you can’t tell me, who can you tell?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I don’t think you do either.”
    “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. I wouldn’t want to talk about it either. Finding my special mate and then turning her over to my own brother. Knowing that she’s mating with him on the islands, holding him close—”
    Galen lands a clean hook to Toraf’s nose and blood spurts on his bare chest. Toraf falls back and holds his nostrils shut. Then he laughs. “I guess I know who taught Rayna how to hit.”
    Galen massages his temples. “Sorry. I don’t know where that came from. I told you I was frustrated.”
    Toraf laughs. “You’re so blind, minnow. I just hope you open your eyes before it’s too late.”
    Galen scoffs. “Stop vomiting superstition at me. I told you. I’m just frustrated. There’s nothing more to it than that.”
    Toraf cocks his head to the side, snorts some blood back into his nasal cavity. “So the humans followed you around, made you feel uncomfortable?”
    “That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”
    Toraf nods thoughtfully. Then he says, “Imagine how Emma must feel then.”
    “What?”
    “Think about it. The humans followed you around a building and it made you uncomfortable. You followed Emma across the big land. Then Rachel makes sure you have every class with her. Then when she tries to get away, you chase her. Seems to me you’re scaring her off.”
    “Kind of like what you’re doing to Rayna.”
    “Huh. Didn’t think of that.”
    “Idiot,” Galen mutters. But there is some truth to Toraf’s observation. Maybe Emma feels smothered. And she’s obviously still mourning Chloe. Maybe he has to take it slow with Emma. If he can earn her trust, maybe she’ll open up to him about her gift, about her past. But the question is, how much time does she need? Grom’s reluctance to mate will be overruled by his obligation to produce an heir. And that heir needs to come from Emma.
    Toraf nudges him from his thoughts. “You know whose advice I need?” He nods toward the gigantic house behind them. “Rachel’s.”
    “Actually, you don’t,” Galen says, standing. He reaches a hand down to help his friend.
    “Why’s that?”
    “Rachel’s expertise lies more along the lines of communication. You won’t need to worry about communication when Rayna finds out you’re already mated.”
    “We’re what ?” They both turn to Rayna who has stopped mid-stride in the sand. The emotions on her face change from surprise to full-blown murderous rage.
    “You’re gonna pay a special price for that, minnow!” Toraf calls before he hits the water.
    Galen grins as Rayna slices through the waves in bloodthirsty pursuit. Then he heads for the house to talk to Rachel.

7
    I PICK up the compact and smear porcelain all over my face. The pressure makes me wince and sends a shooting pain to my eye sockets. At least I don’t have a bruise. Bruises—and zits—show up especially well on white skin. I glide on some sheer lip gloss and pucker in front of the mirror. Then wipe it off. Who am I kidding? That sticky stuff will bother me all day. The mascara tube mocks me from the sink in the bathroom, daring me to put some on. I accept the challenge—I’m not in any danger of crying today. I seize the tube, giving my lashes two good swipes. Funny how a little sleep, a little makeup, and a lot of contemplation can make you feel like a different person—a stronger version of yourself.
    Mom wants me to stay out of school for one more day. But that’s not going to happen. I spent all of yesterday in bed, alternating between crying and sleeping. Finally, at midnight, the waterworks stopped and my brain started working. This is what I decided:
    Chloe is gone. She is never coming back. And the way I’ve been acting would hurt her. For at least an hour, I switch places with her in my mind—I am dead and Chloe is alive. How