Of Poseidon

is frozen in indecision. She isn’t human—she can’t be. Adrenaline might help a human hold her breath, but not for this long. Plus, humans don’t talk underwater—especially when doing so sacrifices precious oxygen. And bull sharks do not back down from humans—especially one as puny as Emma. Still, they don’t back down from Syrena either. Unless Dr. Milligan is right. Unless Emma has the gift of Poseidon.
    But if she is Syrena, then why didn’t she change? She could have saved her friend’s life. Why doesn’t she change now? Surely she knows her friend is dead. Why make a show of struggling in human form? Can she sense me the way I sense her? Galen shakes his head. There is not enough time to consider these things. For whatever reason, Emma is willing to drown to stay in human form.
    And Galen will not allow it.
    He launches toward her. The boat is visible a short distance away, breaking the waves on the surface. One way or the other, Emma will be saved. The boat stops overhead and Galen pauses. He can reach Emma if he needs to.
    A white light strikes through the water, and the beam rests on Emma and Chloe; it is the first time Galen notices the absence of natural sunlight. The sun must be completely set. Two humans plunge in and swim directly to the girls. Galen knows Rayna must be on board, directing the light; without the Syrena’s ability to see into the water, these helpless humans could never have found them, even with a spotlight.
    Emma releases Chloe to the lifeguards, nodding to them in understanding as they pry her lifeless friend from her protective grip. The two exchange a surprised expression as they kick their way to the surface. They lift Chloe onto the boat, but not before Emma catches a glimpse of her leg—a dangling bone from knee to ankle. Her anguished cry siphons the last of her oxygen, the last of her will to fight. Her body falls limp, her eyes close.
    Galen wraps his arms around her before she sinks an inch.
    Ignoring the two splashes on the other side of the boat, he pushes Emma to the surface and into the waiting arms of his sister. Rayna heaves her over the rim of the craft.
    When Galen falls back to the water, he spots the two lifeguards and rolls his eyes. They don’t even realize Emma is already safe on board. They wade themselves stationary, not willing to search beyond an arm’s length ahead of them. Without the spotlight, these pitiful creatures can see nothing. If Galen weren’t here, Emma would be dead.
    Infuriated, he torpedoes between them. The momentum spins them around like tiny whirlpools. He hears their startled cries as he swims away.
    * * *
    Galen dislodges his swimming trunks from under the rock; with a beach full of humans, he’d had to pull them off in the water. He slides them on, digs his feet in the muddy floor, and walks toward shore.
    Rayna is waiting for him, sitting in the sand with her knees drawn to her chest. She wrings a piece of clothing in her hands until it resembles a rope; Galen recognizes it as the shirt Emma wore when he first saw her on the boardwalk. Even in the moonlight, he sees that his sister is crying.
    He sighs and sits beside her. She accepts his arm around her shoulders without a fight, even leans her head on his chest when he draws her to him.
    “Chloe’s dead,” she chokes out. For all her venom, his sister cares about life—human or not.
    He nods. “I know. I didn’t get there in time.”
    Rayna snorts. “Galen, this is one thing you can’t take responsibility for. I said she was dead. I didn’t say you killed her. If you couldn’t get to her, then nobody could have.”
    He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I waited too long to intervene.”
    “Galen—”
    “Forget it. What about Emma?”
    Rayna sighs. “She came to right when we got to shore. They let her ride in the white truck with Chloe.”
    “But how is she?”
    She shrugs. “I don’t know. She’s breathing. And crying.”
    Galen nods, lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “So she’s okay.” His sister pulls away and leans back. He lets his arm drop but doesn’t look at her. “I think you should go home,” he says quietly.
    Rayna stands up and angles over him so that she’s blocking the moonlight. She plants her feet in the sand, hands on hips. Still, he doesn’t expect her to yell like she does. “She isn’t one of us! She’s a pathetic human who couldn’t even save her own friend. And you know what? Even if she