Of Poseidon
visiting the Gulfarium in human form, he swam the gulf in a day. If Dr. Milligan is right about Emma’s abilities, he’s found more than just a rule-breaking Syrena. The good doctor might have found the key to uniting two kingdoms.
But since Rayna’s specialty is not discretion—she would even tell on herself when she was younger—Galen knows he must keep this secret from her. Besides, he’s not sure he believes it himself. Even if he did believe it, if he could confirm it, would Emma do what she must? And where has she been? And why? Everything about Emma is a mystery. Her name doesn’t originate with the Syrena—or her hair or skin. And the way her lips turned red when she blushed almost knocked the breath out of him.
“What?” his sister asks.
“Nothing.” He wrenches his gaze from Emma. Now she’s got me muttering my thoughts out loud.
“I told you, you’re losing it.” Rayna makes a phlegmy gagging sound and wrings her hands around her neck. “This is what Father will do to me if I come home without you again. What should I say when he asks where you are? When he asks why you’re so obsessed with humans? ‘But Father, this one is a pretty blonde with nice contacts’?”
Galen scowls. “He’s going to regret not taking an interest in them. At least Grom’s reasonable about it. It’s only a matter of time before they discover us and—”
“I know, I know,” she drawls. “I know how you hate humans. Sheesh, I was just kidding. That’s why I follow you around, you know. In case you need help.”
Galen runs a hand through his hair and leans back over the railing. His twin sister does follow him around like a sucker fish, but being helpful has nothing to do with it. “Oh, are you sure it doesn’t have anything to do with settling down with—”
“Don’t even say it.”
“Well, what am I supposed to think? Ever since Toraf asked Father for you—”
“Toraf is foolish!”
Toraf has been their best friend since birth—that is, until he recently made his intentions toward Rayna clear. At least he had the good sense to hide out and wait for her death threats to subside. But now she gives him something worse than threats—complete indifference. No amount of pleading or coaxing from Toraf has thawed her. But since she turned twenty this spring—two years past the normal age of mating—Father couldn’t find a good reason not to agree to the match. Toraf is a good candidate, and the decision is made, whether Rayna chooses to ignore it or not.
“I’m starting to think you’re right. Who would want to attach himself to a wild animal?” Galen says, grinning.
“I’m not a wild animal! You’re the one who isolates yourself from everyone, choosing the company of humans over your own kind.”
“It’s my responsibility.”
“Because you asked for it!”
This is true. Galen, stealing an old human saying about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer, asked his older brother, Grom, for permission to serve as an ambassador of sorts to the humans. Grom, being the next in line for kingship, agreed with the need to be cautious about the land dwellers. He granted Galen exclusive immunity to the law prohibiting interaction with humans, recognizing that some communication would be necessary and for the greater good. “Because no one else would. Someone has to watch them. Are we really having this conversation again?” Galen says.
“You started it.”
“I don’t have time for this. Are you staying or going?”
She crosses her arms, juts out her bottom lip. “Well, what are you planning to do? I say we arrest her.”
“We?”
“You know what I mean.”
He shrugs. “I guess we’ll follow her for a while. Watch her.”
Rayna starts to say something but gasps instead. “Maybe we won’t have to,” she whispers, eyes big as sand dollars.
He follows her line of sight to the water, to a dark shadow pacing beneath the waves where the girls share the surfboard. He curses under his breath.
Shark.
3
I SPLASH enough water in Chloe’s face to put out a small house fire. I don’t want to drown her, just exfoliate her eyeballs with sea salt. When she thinks I’m done, she opens her eyes—and her mouth. Big mistake. The next wave rinses off the hangy ball in the back of her throat and makes it to her lungs before she can swallow. She chokes and coughs and rubs her eyes as if she’s been maced.
“Great, Emma! You got my new hair wet!” she sputters.
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