Having a few half fish in my family tree keeps my vision from blurring through the pudgy tears-I can perfectly see the solid yellow line on the road as I walk it. When I hear him following, I rip off my heels and start sprinting. Two months ago, this kind of abuse to my feet would leave them bleeding and with who-knows-what embedded in them. But with the convenience of my new thick skin, running barefoot is like running in Nike’s latest kicks.
Galen is apparently a flying fish though-his hand wraps around my arm, braking my own sad attempt at flight. He whirls me around. Pulling me to him, he lifts my chin with the pad of his thumb. When I jerk away, he grasps it tight, forcing me to look at him. The old Emma would be bruised within the next ten minutes. The new one is just pissed off.
"Let go!" I screech, pushing against his chest. Somehow this just gets me closer to him.
"Emma," he growls as I stomp his foot. "What would you have done?"
Okay, that's unexpected. I stop flailing. "What?
I turn on my heel, which is no easy feat in a gravel parking lot. Not losing eye contact with Galen, I stare him down until I get to the door he's opened for me. He seems unconcerned. In fact, he seems downright emotionless. "This better be good," I tell him as I plop down.
"You should have returned my calls. Or my texts," he says, his voice tight.
As he backs out of the parking space, I yank my cell out of my purse, perusing the texts. "Well, doesn't look like anyone died, so why the hell did you ruin my date?" It's the first time I've ever cursed at royalty and it's liberating. "Or is this a kidnapping? Is Grom in the trunk? Are you taking us on our honeymoon?"
You're supposed to be hurting him, not yourself, moron. My lip trembles like the traitor it is. Even though I'm looking away, I can tell Galen's impassive expression has softened because of the way he says, "Emma."
"Leave me alone, Galen." He pulls my chin to face him. I knock his hand away. "You can't go forty miles an hour on the interstate, Galen. You need to speed up.”
He sighs and presses the gas. By the time we reach a less-embarrassing speed, I’ve abandoned my hurt for rage-o-plenty, struck by the realization that I’ve turned into “that girl.” Not the one who exchanges her doctorate for some kids and a three-bedroom two-bath, but the other kind. That girl who exchanges her dignity and chances for happiness for some possessive loser who beats her when she makes eye contact with some random guy working the hot dog stand.
Not that Galen beats me, but after his little show, what will people think? He acted like a lunatic tonight, stalking me to Atlantic City, blowing up my phone, and threatening my date with physical violence. He made serial-killer eyes, for crying out loud. That might be acceptable in the watery grave, but by dry-land standards, it’s the ingredients for a restraining order. And why are we getting off the interstate?
“Where are you taking me? I told you I want to go home.”
“We need to talk,” he says quietly, taking a dark road just off the exit. “I’ll take you home after I feel you understand.”
“I don’t want to talk. You might have realized that when I didn’t answer your calls.”
He pulls over on the shoulder of Where-Freaking-Are-We Street. Shutting off the engine, he turns to me, putting his arm around the back of my seat. “I don’t want to break up.”
One Mississippi…two Mississippi…”You followed me like a crazy person to tell me that? You ruined my date for that? Mark is a nice guy. I deserve a nice guy, don’t I, Galen?”
“Absolutely. But I happen to be a nice guy, too.”
Three Mississippi…four Mississippi…”Don’t you mean Grom? And you’re not a nice guy. You threatened Mark with physical pain.”
“You threw Rayna through a window. Call it even?”
“When are you going to get over that? Besides, she provoked me!”
“Mark provoked me, too. He put his hand on your leg. We won’t even talk about the kiss on your cheek. Don’t think I didn’t hear you give him permission either.”
“Oh, now that’s rich,” I snort, getting out of the car. Slamming the door, I scream at him. “Now you’re acting jealous on behalf of your brother,” I say, spinning in place. “Can Grom do anything without the almighty Galen helping him?
I didn't have a choice."
"Are you saying...What are you saying?" Is he...could he be talking about me?
He runs a hand through his hair. I've never seen him this emotional before. He's always so controlled, so sure of himself. "I'm saying you're what I want, Emma. I'm saying I'm in love with you."
He steps forward and lifts his hand to my cheek, blazing a line of fire with his fingertips as they trace down to my mouth. "How do you think it would make me feel to see you with Grom?" he whispers. "Like someone ripped my heart out and put it through Rachel's meat grinder, that's how. Probably worse. It would probably kill me. Emma, please don't cry."
I throw my hands in the air. "Don't cry? Are you serious? Why did you come here, Galen? Did you think it would make me feel better to know that you do love me, but that it still won't work out? That I still have to mate with Grom for the greater good? Don't you tell me not to cry, Galen! I...c...c...can't h...h...help-" The waterworks soak me. Galen looks at me, hands by his side, helpless as a trapped crab. I'm bordering on hyperventilation, and pretty soon I'll start hiccupping. This is too much.
His expression is so severe, it looks like he's in physical pain. "Emma," he breathes. "Emma, does this mean you feel the same way? Do you care for me at all?"
I laugh, but it sounds sharper than I intended, because of a hiccup. "What does it matter how I feel, Galen? I think we pretty much covered why. No need to rehash things, right?"
"It matters, Emma." He grabs my hand and pulls me to him again. "Tell me right now. Do you care for me?"
"If you can't tell that I'm stupid in love with you, Galen, then you aren't a very good ambassador for the hum-"
His mouth covers mine, cutting me off. This kiss isn't gentle like the first one. It's definitely not sweet. It's rough, demanding, searching. And disorienting. There's not a part of me that isn't melting against Galen, not a part that isn't combusting with his fevered touch.
I accidentally moan into his lips. He takes it for his cue to lift me off my feet, to pull me up to his height for more leverage. I take his groan for my cue to kiss him harder.
He ignores his cell phone ringing in his pocket. I ignore the rest of the universe. Even when headlights approach, I'm willing to overlook their intrusion and keep kissing. But, prince that he is, Galen is a little more refined than me at this moment. He gently pries his lips from mine and sets me down. His smile is both intoxicated and intoxicating. "We still need to talk."
"Right," I say, but I'm shaking my head.
He laughs. "I didn't come all the way to Atlantic City to make you cry."
"I'm not crying." I lean into him again. He doesn't refuse my lips, but he doesn't do them justice either, planting a measly little kiss on them before stepping back.
What's Toraf's favorite color?"
She shrugs. "Whatever I tell him it is."
I raise a brow at her. "Don't know, huh?"
She crosses her arms. "Who cares anyway? We're not painting his toenails."
"I think what's she's trying to say, honey bunches, is that maybe you should paint your nails his favorite color, to show him you're thinking about him," Rachel says, seasoning her words with tact.
Rayna sets her chin. "Emma doesn't paint her nails Galen's favorite color."
Startled that Galen has a favorite color and I don't know it, I say, "Uh, well, he doesn't like nail polish." That is to say, he's never mentioned it before.
When a brilliant smile lights up her whole face, I know I've been busted. "You don't know his favorite color!" she says, actually pointing at me.
"Yes, I do," I say, searching Rachel's face for the answer. She shrugs.
Rayna's smirk is the epitome of I know something you don't know. Smacking it off her face is my first reflex, but I hold back, as I always do, because of the kiss I shared with Toraf and the way it hurt her. Sometimes I catch her looking at me with that same expression she had on the beach, and I feel like fungus, even though she deserved it at the time.
Refusing to fold, I eye the buffet of nail polish scattered before me. Letting my fingers roam over the bottles, I shop the paints, hoping one of them stands out to me. To save my life, I can't think of any one color he wears more often. He doesn't have a favorite sport, so team colors are a no-go. Rachel picked his cars for him, so that's no help either. Biting my lip, I decide on an ocean blue.
"Emma! Now I'm just ashamed of myself," he says from the doorway. "How could you not know my favorite color?"
Startled, I drop the bottle back on the table. Since he's back so soon, I have to assume he didn't find what or who he wanted-and that he didn't hunt them for very long. Toraf materializes behind him, but Galen's shoulders are too broad to allow them both to stand in the doorway. Clearing my throat, I say, "I was just moving that bottle to get to the color I wanted."
Rayna is all but doing a victory dance with her eyes. "Which is?" she asks, full of vicious glee. Toraf pushes past Galen and plops down next to his tiny mate. She leans into him, eager for his kiss. "I missed you," she whispers.
"Not as much as I missed you," he tells her.
Galen and I exchange eye rolls as he walks around to prop himself on the table beside me, his wet shorts making a butt-shaped puddle on the expensive wood. "Go ahead, angelfish," he says, nodding toward the pile of polish.
If he's trying to give me a clue, he sucks at it. "Go" could mean green, I guess. "Ahead" could mean...I have no idea what that could mean. And angelfish come in all sorts of colors. Deciding he didn't encode any messages for me, I sigh and push away from the table to stand. "I don't know. We've never talked about it before."
Rayna slaps her knee in triumph. "Ha!"
Before I can pass by him, Galen grabs my wrist and pulls me to him, corralling me between his legs. Crushing his mouth to mine, he moves his hand to the small of my back and presses me into him. Since he's still shirtless and I'm in my bikini, there's a lot of bare flesh touching, which is a little more intimate than I'm used to with an audience. Still, the fire sears through me, scorching a path to the furthest, deepest parts of me. It takes every bit of grit I have not to wrap my arms around his neck.
Gently, I push my hands against his chest to end the kiss, which is something I never thought I'd do. Giving him a look 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 openmouthed shock.
Okay, it looked as bad as I thought it did.
Emma, I came out here to tell you that you don't have to mate with Grom."
I raise a brow. "Uh, I was never going to mate with Grom."
"What I mean is, Grom is mating with someone else who has the gift of Poseidon. Which means that-"
"I don't have to mate with Grom," I finish for him.
"That's what I just said."
"I mean, I don't have to feel like I've let the entire species of Syrena go extinct because I won't mate with Grom."
He grins. "Exactly."
"But that doesn't change what I am-a Half-Breed. You still can't be with me, can you?"
He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip, thoughtful. "The law forbids it right now. But I think if we give it time, we could get it overturned somehow. And I'm not going anywhere until I do."
He turns us toward the SUV, stopping to retrieve my heels from the side of the road. He helps me in the passenger seat of the Escalade, then hands me my shoes.
"Thank you," I tell him as he walks around to the driver's side.
"It's a little late to blush," he says, strapping in.
"I don't think I'll ever stop blushing."
"I really hope not," he says, shutting his door. Taking my face into both hands, he pulls me to him again. His lips brush mine, but I want more. Sensing my intention, he puts his hand over mine and the seat belt I'm trying to unsnap. "Emma," he says against my lips. "I've missed you so much. But we can't. Not yet."
I'm not trying to do that, I just want to get in a better position to accept his lips. Telling him so would just embarrass us both. But he says yet. What does that mean? That he wants to wait until he can get the law overturned? Or will he give it time, and if it doesn't work out, break Syrena law to be with me?
For some reason, I don't want the answer bad enough to ask. Images of "that girl" flare up in my head. I don't want Galen to break his laws-it's a big part of why I love him so much. His loyalty to his people, his commitment to them. It's the kind of devotion almost nonexistent among humans. But I don't want to be "that girl" either. Syrena or not, I want to go to college. I want to experience the world above and below sea level.
But it's not like any decisions need to be made right now, do they? I mean, life-changing decisions take time to make. Time and meditation. And physical space between my lips and his.
I pull back. "Right. Sorry."
He seizes a few tendrils of my hair and runs them along his face, grinning. "Not as sorry as I am. You'll have to help me keep my hands off you."
I laugh, even as a charge runs through my veins. "Yeah. No."
He laughs too and turns to start the car, then stops. Letting go of the keys, he says, "So. About breaking up."
"Let me think about it some more," I tell him on the brink of giggling at his expression.
"I'll see what I can do to help you make up your mind."
We stay parked for another fifteen minutes. But at least we're not broken up anymore.
You called?" Sounding casual is difficult when it feels like you're heart's river-dancing in your rib cage.
"Yes. I just wondered where you were. You didn't answer your cell. Is everything okay?" She sighs, but I can't tell if it's in relief or parental aggravation.
"Everything's fine. My battery is dead, but Galen bought me a charger to keep over here, so it's charging."
"How sweet of him," she says, knowing good and well she instructed him to do so. "Well, just wanted to check in. Should I wait up for you? I don't appreciate you missing curfew the last few nights. Technically, staying over there until four in the morning is a coed sleepover, which I don't allow, or had you forgotten? Your trip to Florida with Galen's family was a special circumstance."
"I stayed the night at Chloe's all the time with JJ there." JJ is Chloe's eight-year-old brother. Not a great comeback, but it will have to do.
Listen, I noticed you haven't brought your swimsuit home yet. I hope you're not still getting in the water. It's too cold for swimming, Emma."
I do my own laundry. Digging around in my drawers is the only way she could have "noticed" anything missing. Does she also look for condoms or other incriminating evidence moms usually scavenge for? Does she come home to scavenge? The thought tickles my temper. Making a mental note to by a new bathing suit strictly for Galen's house, I say, "You're telling me this? You know how cold-natured I am." My laugh is loud enough to be suspicious, but Mom doesn't seem to notice. Rachel smirks though.
"Don't try to tell me you and Galen haven't figured out how to stay warm in the water."
"Mom!"
"Just promise you won't get in the water," she says, her voice tight again. "I don't need you getting sick."
"Fine. I promise."
"And be home before dawn this time. I dare you to bring home anything less than an A on your report card after this. I double dog dare you."
I mouth the words into the phone as she says them; you'd think she'd at least change the wording after all these years. It's her go-to threat for just about everything. But somehow, it doesn't work this time. There's no bluster behind it. She's getting soft lately, and I think it has to do with the night I accused her of adopting me.
Like a child, I close my eyes as if they can't see me either. The fire from the kiss broadcasts 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 coke 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 fish. 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 Mississipis 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 finger at him, but can't decide what to accuse him of first, so I put it back down.
After several moments of this, he breaks the silence. "Emma, calm down."
"Don't tell me what to do, Highness." I dare him with my eyes to call me "boo."
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 reflection, 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. Now, he must grovel.
I toss a satisfied smirk into the reflection only to find 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-flipping-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.
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 definitely half human."
Galen winks at me. "You don't say?"
I cover my mouth to stifle 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 fin."
Galen laughs. "We sort of already went along with that assumption, Dr. Milligan. Then the Archives confirmed 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 figure 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 you mean?" he says.
"I mean, my boy, what other evidence do you have to go on? 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. 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 scientific."
Galen frowns.
"You there, Galen?
This is the definition of peace.
The definition is interrupted by Toraf's ringtone. Why did Rachel get Toraf a phone? Does she hate me? Fumbling behind him in the sand, Galen puts a hand on it right before it stops ringing. He waits five 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 says, sitting up and stretching.
“You know I do. But I think this mating ceremony will be 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 first 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 in. It’s your choice. But it would make me the happiest man-fish 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 nervous 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. Because you asked.”
Toraf was right. I just had to ask. He shakes his head. “Now I can sleep tonight.”
“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, angelfish. Be good.” He places a forceful kiss on her forehead, then gets a running start and dives in.
And he misses her already.
« first previous
Page 14 of 24.
next last »
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.