Of Poseidon (38 page)

Gently, I push my hands against his chest to end the kiss,

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which is something I never thought I’d do. Giving him a look

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that I hope conveys “inappropriate,” I step back. I’ve spent enough time in their company to know without looking that Rayna’s eyes are bugging out of their sockets and Toraf is grinning like a nutcracker doll. With any luck, Rachel didn’t even see the kiss. Stealing a peek at her, she meets my gaze with open-mouthed shock.

Okay, it looked as bad as I thought it did. Like a child, I close my eyes as if they can’t see me either. The fi re from the kiss broad-casts itself all over me in the form of a full- body blush.

Galen laughs. “There it is,” he says, running his thumb over my bottom lip. “That is my favorite color. Wow.” I’m going to kill him. “Galen. Please. Come. With. Me,” I choke out. Gliding past him, my bare feet slap against the tile until I’m stomping on carpet in the hallway, then up the stairs.

I can tell by the prickles on my skin that he’s following like a good dead fi sh. As I reach the ladder to the uppermost level, I nod to him to keep following before I hoist myself up. Pacing the room until he gets through the trap door, I count more Mississippis than I’ve ever counted in my whole life.

He closes the door and locks it shut but makes no move to come closer. Still, for a person who’s about to die, he seems more amused than he should. I point my fi nger at him, but can’t decide what to accuse him of fi rst, so I put it back down.

After several minutes of this, he breaks the silence. “Emma, calm down.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Highness.” I dare him with my

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eyes to call me boo.

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Instead of the apology I’m looking for, his eyes tell me he’s considering kissing me again, right now.

Which is meant to distract me. Tearing my gaze from his mouth, I stride to the window seat and move the mountains of pillows on it. Making myself comfortable, I lean my head against the window. He knows as well as I do that if we had a special spot, this would be it. For me to sit here without him is the worst kind of snub. In the refl ection, I see him run his hand through his hair and cross his arms. After a few more minutes, he shifts his weight to the other leg.

He knows what I want. He knows what will earn him entrance to the window seat and my good graces. I don’t know if it’s royal blood or manly pride that keeps him from apologizing, but his extended delay just makes me madder. Now I won’t accept an apology. No, now he must grovel.

I toss a satisfi ed smirk into the refl ection only to fi nd he’s not there anymore. His hand closes around my arm and he jerks me up against him. His eyes are stormy, intense. “You think I’m going to apologize for kissing you?” he murmurs.

“I. Yes. Uh- huh.” Don’t look at his mouth! Say something intelligent.

“We don’t have any clothes on.” Fan- fl ipping- tastic. I meant to say he shouldn’t kiss me in front of everyone, especially half naked.

“Mmm,” he says, pulling me closer. Brushing his lips against my ear, he says, “I did happen to notice that. Which is why I shouldn’t have followed you up here.”

His cell phone vibrates on the nightstand, almost startling

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my hair off my head. He grins and walks over to pick it up, leaving me there to stare after him. “It’s Dr. Milligan,” he says. “Hello?

Hold on, Dr. Milligan, let me put you on speaker. Emma’s here.” Galen presses the button on the screen. “Okay, Dr. Milligan,” he says. “Go ahead.”

“Well, my boy, I just wanted to let you know that I received the results back for the DNA tests. Emma is defi nitely half human.” Galen winks at me. “You don’t say?”

I cover my mouth to stifl e a giggle. Rudeness should never be contagious.

“Yes, I’m afraid so. That said, I’m not sure if she even has the capability of forming a fi n.”

Galen laughs. “We sort of already went along with that as-sumption, Dr. Milligan. Then the Archives confi rmed it. There’s a painting of people who look just like Emma in Tartessos.” Dr. Milligan sighs. “You could have called me.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Milligan. I’ve been . . . busy.”

“Did Emma fi gure out her lineage, then?”

Galen shakes his head, though the reaction is lost on Dr.

Milligan in Florida. “As far as we can tell, Emma’s father was a half breed. He’s got the coloring, he wore contacts, he loved seafood and the ocean. He obviously knew about Emma’s physical issues.” He tells Dr. Milligan about his theory that some of the Half Breeds survived the destruction of Tartessos.

Dr. Milligan is quiet for a few seconds. “What else?” Galen gives me a quizzical look. I return a shrug. “What do

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you mean?” he says.

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“I mean, my boy, what other evidence do you have to go on?

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The man you just described could be me. I used to have blond hair before the gray took over. I wear contacts. I happen to love seafood and the beach, if where I live is any indication by. I also know about Emma’s physical issues. Emma could be my daughter then. Is that what you’re saying? If that’s all you’re basing it on, Emma could be almost any man’s daughter in the Panhandle here. Not very scientifi c.”

Galen frowns.

“You there, Galen?” Dr. Milligan says. I sit beside Galen on the bed, not liking the turn of the conversation.

“I’m still here.”

“Good. There’s something else to consider. If Emma’s father was a descendant of the Half Breeds, like you say, then he wouldn’t really be a half breed anymore, would he? He’d be more like a Quarter Breed, or Who- Knows- How- Many-Fractions of a Breed? Which would dilute Emma’s blood even more. Really, how likely is it that Emma’s father was an actual half breed? There’d have to be some naughty Syrena out there to produce a full- blooded half breed, don’t you think? And if Emma is just a descendant from these long- ago half humans, well, then she’d mostly be human. But that’s not what my test results show, my boy. She’s exactly half.”

“What are you saying Dr. Milligan?” Galen says, fl ustered.

“I’m saying, Galen, that I don’t think you’ve found the answer. I think you need to keep looking. I do wish you would have called me. I could have helped you reason it out and saved you some time. But there is one more thing I wanted to mention

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before we disconnect.”

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“What’s that?” Galen says, almost in a daze.

“Didn’t you tell me once that Syrena young develop into full maturity at nine years old?”

“Yes. Nine or ten. Some even earlier than that.”

“And that includes the ability to sense?”

“Yes. And their bones are matured already. They don’t grow anymore.”

“But you see, my boy, since Emma is half human, she matured at a slower pace. Precisely half the pace, I’d say. Which, if I’m correct, means she wouldn’t hit maturity until age eigh teen.” My mouth drops open. Hitting my head had nothing to do with my Syrena abilities. I had just fi nished maturing. Right before Chloe died.

“I see,” Galen says, wrapping his arm around me and pulling me too him. “Well, thank you, Dr. Milligan. I’m sorry we didn’t call you before. You have no idea how sorry.”

“Yes, well, I’m just trying to help.” But he sounds upset. As if he was left out of the loop. Technically, he was.

But I’m betting my bikini bottoms he never will be again.

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26

CAREFUL NOT to wake her, Galen brushes Emma’s hair from her face, her cheeks pink from the glow of sunrise. Her sundress is ruined, the Atlantic leaving stains on it resembling a mountain range. She managed to tear the hem of it while hunting for her other shoe in the moonlight. Then she spread it out like a fan for him to lay on instead of the sand. And that’s where he stayed all night. This is why I never sifted. No one else could fi t as perfectly in my arms as she does. Leaning down, he grazes her lips with his. She sighs, as if she felt it.

Gulls squawk in the distance, eager for breakfast. Morning tide sloshes against the shore. The wind laces through the dune grass, like it’s whispering a secret he’s not meant to hear. And Emma sleeps. This is the defi nition of peace.

The defi nition is interrupted by Toraf ’s ringtone. Why did

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Rachel get Toraf a phone? Does she hate me? Fumbling behind him in

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the sand, Galen puts a hand on it right before it stops ringing.

He waits fi ve seconds and . . . Yep, he’s calling again.

“Hello?” he whispers.

“Galen, it’s Toraf.”

Galen snorts. “You think?”

“Rayna’s ready to leave. Where are you?”

Galen sighs. “We’re on the beach. Emma’s still sleeping. We’ll walk back in a few minutes.” Emma braved her mom’s wrath by skipping curfew again last night to be with him. Grom’s mating ceremony is tomorrow, and Galen and Rayna’s attendance is required. He’ll have to leave her in Toraf ’s care until he gets back.

“Sorry, Highness. I told you, Rayna’s ready to go. You have about two minutes of privacy. She’s heading your way.” The phone disconnects.

Galen leans down and sweeps his lips over her sweet neck.

“Emma,” he whispers.

She sighs. “I heard him,” she groans drowsily. “You should tell Toraf that he doesn’t have to yell into the phone. And if he keeps doing it, I’m going to accidentally break it.” Galen grins. “He’ll get the hang of it soon. He’s not a complete idiot.”

At this, Emma opens one eye.

He shrugs. “Well, three quarters maybe. But not a complete one.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” she

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says, sitting up and stretching.

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“You know I do. But I think this mating ceremony will be

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interesting enough without introducing my half-breed girlfriend, don’t you think?”

Emma laughs and pulls her hair to one side, draping it over her shoulder. “This is our fi rst time away from each other. You know, as a couple. We’ve only been really dating for two weeks now. What will I do without you?”

He pulls her to him, leaning her back against his chest.

“Well, I’m hoping that this time when I come back, it won’t be to the sight of you kissing Toraf.”

The snickers beside them let them know their two minutes of privacy are up. “Yeah. Or someone’s gonna die,” Rayna says cordially.

Galen helps Emma up and swats the leftover sand out of her sundress. He takes her hands into his. “Could I please just ask one thing without you getting all mad about it?” She scowls. “Let me guess. You don’t want me to get in the water while you’re gone.”

“But I’m not ordering you to stay out of it. I’m asking, no begging, very politely, and with all my heart for you not to get it in.