Of Poseidon (20 page)

“Oh, you’re right. I’m just a human with thick skin, purple eyes, and hard bones. Which means you can go home. Tell Galen I said hi.”

Toraf opens and shuts his mouth twice. Both times it seems like he wants to say something, but his expression tells me his brain isn’t cooperating. When his mouth snaps shut a third time, I splash water in his face. “Are you going to say something, or are you trying to catch wind and sail?”

A grin the size of the horizon spreads across his face. “He likes that, you know. Your temper.”

Yeah, freakingright. Galen’s a classic type A personality— and type A’s hate smartass- ism. Just ask my mom. “No off ense, but you’re not exactly an expert at judging people’s emotions.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that.”

“Sure you do.”

“If you’re talking about Rayna, then you’re wrong. She loves me. She just won’t admit it.”

I roll my eyes. “Right. She’s playing hard to get, is that it?

Bashing your head with a rock, splitting your lip, calling you squid breath all the time.”

“What does that mean? Hard to get?”

“It means she’s trying to make you think she doesn’t like you, so that you end up liking her more. So you work harder to get her attention.”

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He nods. “Exactly. That’s exactly what she’s doing.” 0—

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I say, “I don’t think so. As

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we speak, she’s getting your mating seal dissolved. That’s not playing hard to get. That’s playing impossible to get.”

“Even if she does get it dissolved, it’s not because she doesn’t care about me. She just likes to play games.” The pain in Toraf ’s voice guts me like the catch of the day.

She might like playing games, but his feelings are real. And can’t I relate to that? “There’s only one way to fi nd out,” I say softly.

“Find out?”

“If all she wants is games.”

“How?”

“You play hard to get. You know how they say, ‘If you love someone, set them free. If they return to you, it was meant to be?’ ”

“I’ve never heard that.”

“Right. No, you wouldn’t have.” I sigh. “Basically, what I’m trying to say is, you need to stop giving Rayna attention. Push her away. Treat her like she treats you.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“You’ll get your answer that way,” I say, shrugging. “But it sounds like you don’t really want to know.”

“I do want to know. But what if the answer isn’t good?” His face scrunches as if the words taste like lemon juice.

“You’ve got to be ready to deal with it, no matter what.” Toraf nods, his jaw tight. The choices he has to consider will make this night long enough for him. I decide not to intrude on his time anymore. “I’m pretty tired, so I’m heading back. I’ll

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meet you at Galen’s in the morning. Maybe I can break thirty

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minutes tomorrow, huh?” I nudge his shoulder with my fi st, but a weak smile is all I get in return.

I’m surprised when he grabs my hand and starts pulling me through the water. At least it’s better than dragging me by the ankle. I can’t help but think how Galen could have done the same thing. Why does he wrap his arms around me instead?

By Saturday night, I can stay under for thirty- fi ve minutes. By Sunday afternoon, I’m up to forty- seven. There’s something to be said about practice— even if I’m not actually practicing anything. Just hanging out in the water, holding my breath, withering my skin to grandma- like wrinkles.

I pull off the fl ippers Toraf brought me and chuck them onto shore. I keep my back turned while he maneuvers his shorts into place. “Are you decent?” I call after a few seconds. No matter how many times I tell him I can’t see into the water yet, he insists I’m just trying to look at his “eel.” For crying out loud.

“Oh, I’m more than decent. I’m actually quite a catch.” I couldn’t agree more. Toraf is good- looking, funny, and considerate— which makes me question Rayna’s attitude. I’m beginning to understand why Grom sealed her to him. Who could be better for her than Toraf ?

But mentioning that to Toraf would break our silent pact not to talk about Rayna or Galen. Since Friday night, we’ve talked about everything but them. About Grom and Nalia. About the peace treaty General Triton and General Poseidon made after

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the Great War. About how seafood tastes— well, we argued about 0—

that one.

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But mostly we just practice, me holding my breath, Toraf timing me. He can’t explain any better than Galen how to change into a fi sh. He agrees it feels like an almost overwhelming need to stretch.

Toraf wades to where I stand in the tide. “I can’t believe it’s already sunset,” I tell him.

“I can. I’m starving.”

“I am, too.” Must be all the extra calories I’m burning in the water.

He shrugs. “All I know is—” His head jerks toward the water and back at me. He grabs my shoulders, pulls me close.

And then he breaks our silent agreement. “Remember what you said about Rayna? About playing hard to get?” He darts a glance toward the open sea, whips his head back to me again.

His eyebrows melt together as he scowls.

I nod, startled by his about- face.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it. A lot. And I’m going to do it. But . . . but I need your help.”

“Of course I’ll help you. What ever you need,” I say. But something feels off when he pulls me closer.

“Good,” he says, peeking again at the sunset. “Galen and Rayna are close.”

I gasp. “How do you know that? I can’t feel them.” My heart turns traitor, beating like I just ran fi ve miles uphill. It has nothing to do with sensing and everything to do with the mention of Galen’s name.

“I’m a tracker, Emma. I can sense them from almost across

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the world. Especially Rayna. And from the feel of things, Galen

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is fl ittering that cute little fi n of his like crazy to get back to you. Rayna must be riding on his back.”

“You can tell what she’s doing?”

“I can tell how fast she’s moving. No one can swim as fast as Galen, Rayna included. He must be pretty impatient to see you.”

“Yeah. Impatient for me to change so he can have another royal subject to order around.”

Toraf ’s laughter startles me, not because it’s loud, but because his mood seems to swing around on an axis. “Is that what you think?” he says.

Suddenly, Galen’s pulse hits my legs like a physical blow.

Toraf drags me out of the water and hauls us toward the house.

“He’s had plenty of chances to show me something diff erent,” I say, my words bouncing with each hurried step chunking into the sand. Behind us, I hear Galen and Rayna laughing about something. The way they slosh makes me think they’re splashing each other.

Toraf stops us at the little picket fence, an apathetic bound-ary separating Galen’s beach sand from the county’s beach sand.

“Well, I’m about to teach those spoiled Royals a lesson. Do you trust me, Emma?”

I nod, but something tells me I shouldn’t have. My instinct is confi rmed when Toraf pulls me against his chest and lowers his mouth to mine. When I try to pull away, he grabs a handful of my hair and uses it to hold my face in place. The sudden si-

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lence behind us is louder than the laughter ever could have been.

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I can tell Toraf is a good kisser. He moves his mouth just

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the right way, gentle and fi rm at the same time. And for all the seafood he eats, he doesn’t taste like it one bit.

But everything about this kiss is wrong, wrong, wrong. If I had a brother, this is what kissing him would feel like. And then I feel something else. Hair- raising prickles all over. Like I’m about to be struck by lightning.

Then Galen—

not a lightning bolt—

slams into Toraf,

wrenching our lips apart. To his good credit, Toraf releases me immediately instead of taking me down with him. They crash into the sand, Galen launching punches like bullets from a machine gun. But I’m too stunned to move.

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16

BETWEEN PUNCHES, Galen bellows his rage. “I trusted you! I said to keep an eye on her, not your fi lthy lips!” Toraf’s laugh makes him hit harder. Galen is aware of Emma screaming for him to stop. Now that she’s snapped out of the trance Toraf kissed her into.

Fire sears into his biceps where Emma struggles to restrain the next blow with both hands. “Stop it, Galen! Right now!” His head whips toward her, her concern for Toraf almost driving him beyond sense. “Why? Why should I stop?”

“Because he’s your friend. Because he’s your sister’s mate,” she shouts.

“But those are the same reasons I should kill him, Emma.

You’re not making any sense.”

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“Rayna, help me!” Emma throws herself at Galen, ramming 0—

her shoulder into his chest.

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With his arms full of Emma, it’s diffi

cult to keep hammer-

ing Toraf. Emma is soft and sweet- smelling, which would distract him even if she wasn’t wrapping herself around him like an octopus. He can’t tell whose limbs are whose when they tumble off of Toraf and spill into the sand beside him.

Landing on top, Galen uses his hand to cushion the back of Emma’s head from hitting a piece of driftwood. Worrying about her last head injury already shortened his life span. “Triton’s trident, Emma, you can’t just throw yourself in the middle of a fi ght. You could get hurt,” he says, out of breath.

She pushes against him, fi st balled. “A fi ght is two- sided, Highness. You didn’t notice Toraf wouldn’t hit back?” Actually, no. And he didn’t care. He eases off her. She refuses the hand he off ers to help her up. He shrugs, irritated at her small rejection. “His loss. Now go to the house. Toraf and I aren’t fi nished.”

By now Toraf is standing up, slapping the sand off his body. It takes a few moments for Galen to realize that Rayna didn’t help disentangle him from her mate. In fact, she hasn’t said a word.

She’s still standing on the beach where he left her, her face contorted into a jumble of shock, anger, and pain. The anger dissipates when Toraf straightens his swimming trunks and walks right past her. In fact, the shock goes away, too. Only pain stays behind, crumbling her expression.

Her mate is knee- deep in the water when she fi nally calls out to him. “Toraf ?” The way her voice cracks takes Galen off guard.

Toraf doesn’t notice. That, or he doesn’t care. “Hmm?”

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Toraf says, as if she doesn’t deserve the eff ort of a whole word.

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“You . . . you kissed Emma.”

“Yes?” he says, glancing impatiently out to sea.