Of Poseidon (39 page)

It’s your choice. But it would make me the happiest man- fi sh on the coast if you wouldn’t.” They sense the stalker almost daily now. That and the fact that Dr. Milligan blew his theory about Emma’s dad being a half breed out of the water makes Galen more ner vous than he can say. It means they still don’t have any answers about who could know about Emma. Or why they keep hanging around.

Emma rewards him with a breathtaking smile. “I won’t.

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Because you asked.”

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Toraf was right. I just had to ask. He shakes his head. “Now I can sleep to night.”

“That makes one of us. Don’t stay gone too long. Or Mark will sit by me at lunch.”

He grimaces. “I’ll hurry.” He leans down to kiss her. Behind them, he hears Rayna’s initial splash.

“She’s leaving without you,” Emma whispers on his lips.

“She could have left hours ago and I’d still catch her.

Good- bye, angelfi sh. Be good.” He places a forceful kiss on her forehead, then gets a running start and dives in.

And he misses her already.

Galen fi nds Grom exactly where he shouldn’t be— the minefi eld. Hours before his mating ceremony, he still sulks for his lost love. But who is Galen to judge? His brother is mating with someone he

doesn’t love—

which enables Galen to be with

someone he does.

Grom greets him with a smile full of nausea. “I’m not ready for this, little brother,” he confesses.

“Sure you are,” Galen laughs, slapping his brother’s back.

Grom shakes his head. “It feels like . . . like I’m betraying her. Nalia.”

Galen stiff ens. Oh. He doesn’t feel qualifi ed to talk Grom out of this kind of mood. “I’m sure she would understand,” he off ers.

Grom studies him thoughtfully. “I’d like to think she

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would. But you didn’t know Nalia. She had an amazing temper.” 0—

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He chuckles. “I keep looking over my shoulder, expecting to see her ready to bludgeon me with something for mating with someone else.”

Galen frowns, unsure of what to say.

Grom chuckles. “I’m joking, of course.” Then he shrugs.

“Well, half joking, anyway. I swear I’ve been sensing her lately, Galen. It feels so real. It takes all I’ve got not to follow the pulse.

Do you think I’m losing my mind?”

Galen shakes his head out of obligation. Secretly though, he thinks he might be. “I’m sure you’re just feeling guilty. Er . . .

not that you have a reason to feel guilty. Uh, it’s just natural that you feel that way before your mating ceremony. Nerves and all.” Galen runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”

“What sort of thing? Being mature?” Grom smirks.

“Funny.”

“Maybe you should spend some more time on land, then come back and talk to me. Being on land ages you, you know.

Might do you some good.”

Galen snorts. Now you tell me. “I heard.” Out of nowhere, Grom grabs Galen’s face and wrestles him into a hold. Galen hates it when he does this. “Let me see that cute little face of yours, minnow. Yep, just like I thought. Your eyes are turning blue. How much time have you been spending on land? Please tell me you’re not head over fi n for a human!” Then he laughs and releases him just as suddenly.

Galen stares at him. “What do you mean?”

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“I was just teasing, minnow. Giving you a hard time.”

“I know but . . . why did you say my eyes are turning blue?

What does that have to do with the humans?” Grom waves a dismissive hand at him. “Forget it. I think you might be more uptight than me right now. I said I was just kidding.”

“Grom, if it’s something about the humans, I need to know.

I’m ambassador. You’re keeping me from doing my job.” Galen’s voice is more calm than he feels. He remembers the painting on the wall in Tartessos. The Syrena whose eyes looked blue instead of violet.

“Triton’s trident, Galen. It’s got nothing to do with your responsibility as ambassador. It’s just a rumor. In fact, I’m surprised you haven’t heard of it before.”

Galen crosses his arms. “Well, I haven’t.” Grom rolls his eyes. “You’re right. You’re not very good at this sort of thing. The legend is that sometimes when Syrena spend a lot of time on land, their eyes fade to blue. It’s just a myth, minnow. Calm down. Your eyes aren’t turning blue.” Maybe I do spend too much time on land. I know more about human history than Syrena history.

“What are you two up to?” a feminine voice calls from behind them. They turn to see Paca.

Galen cringes on the inside. Paca shouldn’t be here. She might be Grom’s mate in a few hours, but this place is sacred.

He sees his brother stiff en by his side. Then he feels Rayna’s

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pulse approaching. Jagen’s pulse is close behind her. Something 0—

feels off .

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“Hello, Paca,” Galen says politely. “We were just about to come see you, weren’t we, Grom?” Paca is not ugly, but she’s not pretty either. Plain would be a good word to describe her. But not just plain. There’s something about the look in her eyes that makes her less innocent, less deserving than plain. Plain could be pitied. But Paca doesn’t incite pity from Galen.

“I hope you were going to come pry your sister off my back,” Paca clips as Rayna swims up. “She’s quite rude.” Galen throws Rayna a look, to which she lifts her chin.

“Paca and her pudgy father over there are full of whale dung,” Rayna informs her brothers.

“Rayna,” Grom barks. “Mind your manners.”

Rayna lifts her chin even higher. Here we go. “Paca is a fraud, Grom,” she says. “You can’t mate with her. Sorry to ruin your ceremony. Let’s go, Galen.”

Paca gasps as Jagen swims up to the party, almost stuttering in his fury. “You little . . . little stonefi sh! How dare you insult my daughter?”

Galen grabs Rayna’s arm. “What did you do?” he hisses.

She jerks her arm away and gives him a superior look. “If Paca has the Gift of Poseidon, I have the Gift of Triton. Don’t ask me what it is though, because I don’t have a clue.”

“Rayna, enough!” Grom says, grabbing her other arm. “Apologize. Right now.”

“Apologize for what? Telling the truth? Sorry, not feeling it.” She shrugs, but doesn’t struggle to free herself from Grom’s grasp.

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“How can you say she’s a fraud? She just showed you her

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Gift!” Jagen says, slicing a hand through the water in frustration.

Rayna snorts. “She didn’t show Galen the gift. Galen, have you seen her demonstrate the gift? Let her show you the gift.” She turns to Paca. “Did you hear what I said, Princess Cheater-Cheater- Whale- Dung- Eater? Show my brother your pathetic gift.”

Paca’s eyes are full of murder. She looks at Grom. “Do something about your sister. You’re going to let her insult me right in front of you? Is this how I can expect to be treated when I’m mated to you?”

Rayna laughs. “You bet your sweet—”

“Rayna!” Galen says. “Enough!”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything else. Galen turns to Paca. Trying to sound apologetic, he says, “Please excuse my sister’s lack of . . .”

“Sanity?” Paca off ers icily.

Galen smiles. Sort of. “Paca, of course, I would love to see you demonstrate the Gift of Poseidon. Would you be so kind as to show me? We’ve heard such amazing things about it already from Toraf.”

This seems to placate Paca and Jagen. A little. Grom even loosens his grip on Rayna.

Paca bows low, a sign of deep respect for Galen. It takes all he has not to roll his eyes. “Of course, young prince. Please follow me.” She leads them a considerable distance from the mine-

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fi eld, which surprises Galen.

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They pass all sorts of fi sh she could have demonstrated the

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gift on. After each one they pass, Rayna’s expression gets smugger and smugger, if that’s even possible.

“What’s gotten into you?” Galen whispers for her ears only.

She winks at him, of all things. “You’ll see,” she mouths back.

They swim far enough to reach the shelf that leads to shallow water. This all seems like a lot of trouble for just a tiny demonstration, but Galen goes along with it because it doesn’t seem fair that Grom should frown on the day of his mating ceremony.

“Paca, maybe we could stop here for the demonstration.

We’ll need to get back soon; you don’t want to keep everyone waiting for the ceremony,” Galen says.

“We’re almost there,” she calls over her shoulder. Galen looks at Rayna, but she’s not saying anything. She’s just smiling like she really has misplaced her sanity.

When they pass the shelf into shallow water, she stops. Finally. “Just a moment,” she says. “I’m going to call them.” She shoots up to the surface.

Galen looks at Jagen. “Call who?”

Jagen smiles. “The dolphins, young prince.” Rayna still won’t make eye contact with Galen, so he’s forced to wait— impatiently—for Paca to return with her pod.

After a few minutes, she comes back, three dolphins fl anking her.

“I can make them jump out of the water, swim in circles, or swim at each other,” she says to Galen. “Take your pick.” What? He throws an incredulous glare at Rayna, who returns

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a rare, humongous smile full of teeth.

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“Grom likes to see them swim in circles, my dear,” Jagen says.

“Why don’t you make them do that? Our young prince obviously can’t make up his mind.”

Paca turns to her dolphin friends and says, “Circles!” Then she draws a huge circle with her hands, over and over. The dolphins comply.

Galen gasps. Oh, no. Hand signals. She’s using hand signals like the trainers at the Gulfarium. Rayna must have recognized it.

Jagen apparently mistakes Galen’s gasp for awe. “It’s quite astonishing, isn’t it, my prince?” he says with a knowing smile.

“Very,” he chokes out. He clears his throat. “Paca, what about these fl ounder here on the bottom? What can you make them do?”

Paca sulks. “I thought you wanted to see the dolphins.”

“You’ve done well with them. Very well. But I’d like to see the fl ounders do something funny. Can you make them swim in circles, too?”

“My prince, that’s not how the Gift of Poseidon works,” Jagen cuts in. “It’s limited to certain—”

“Liar!” Rayna yells, startling everyone. The dolphins get skittish and dart.

“Rayna,” Grom says.

“Ow,” she wails. “You’re hurting me.”

Galen sighs, his heart sinking. “Let her go, Grom. She’s telling the truth. Paca doesn’t have the Gift of Poseidon.” Grom

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releases her and scowls at his brother. Rayna swims to the sanc-0—

tity of Galen’s back.

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“Don’t tell me she’s talked you into her little game,” Grom tells him.

“This is outrageous!” Jagen bellows. “Grom, you need to get your siblings under control before I do it myself.” Galen rolls his eyes. Jagen is over 150 years old. If he wants to tussle with Galen, he’s more than welcome to come closer.

“Grom, the Gift of Poseidon isn’t limited to a few species of fi sh. The gift was meant to feed all of us. What about the Cave of Memories? There are no dolphins that deep. How would she feed the Archives if she needed to?”

Grom crosses his arms, his face like stone. “I think you need to stick to what you know best, little brother. The humans. And take your sister with you. I can’t look at her.”

“What?” Galen says, swimming closer to his brother. “You’re telling me to leave?”