Mr. Kennedy readjusts to get a better look at Galen. “You’re smarter than you look, now aren’t you?” He chuckles. “Not all balls and brawn after all, eh?” Mr. Kennedy sighs dramatically. “Well, you’ve caught me, Galen. I am indeed not a botanist. And can I just say how boring it is to pretend to be a botanist? But Neptune would have run me off if they’d known I was a marine biologist.”
Galen’s gut twists like one of the pretzel’s Rachel was so fond of. A marine biologist. Just like Dr. Milligan—the only other human, besides Rachel, whom Galen has ever trusted. He’s devoted to helping preserve the Syrena way of life, and he’s in a good position to do just that—a marine biologist himself, he keeps Galen updated on the human world as it relates to ocean exploration. In exchange, Galen allows him to run tests on him in order to study his species.
Dr. Milligan certainly doesn’t go around kidnapping his specimens.
“Oh, Galen, just wait until your memory kicks in, then you’ll be really impressed,” Kennedy is saying.
My memory? Did the dart do something to my memory?
But Reed is unconcerned, quickly turning the conversation back to plan. “What are you going to do to us?” he whimpers, a little more convincing than Galen would like. Is he breaking? Is he losing it?
Galen tries to make eye contact with Reed but he won’t look at him. He keeps his frightened gaze on Mr. Kennedy. Galen is officially impressed with the acting skills of the Half-Breed across from him. If they’re real.
“Oh, now, shush, little Reed. I’m just going to run a few tests. And by a few, I’m afraid I mean a lot,” Kennedy says. “Unfortunately, some of them will hurt. But of course, I’ll keep you as comfortable as possible and show you the same hospitality you’ve shown me, Reed.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels, smirking down at Reed. Galen has seen that look before. Rayna wears it right before she does something bad to Toraf.
At this, Reed’s face darkens so briefly Galen wonders if he imagined it, but then he recovers beautifully, showing himself the terrified companion he needs him to be. “I didn’t mean to be rude to you, Mr. Kennedy, I swear,” Reed says. He shifts his weight against the wall. “I was just frustrated, that’s all.”
Mr. Kennedy waves at him in dismissal, then pivots on his heel to examine Galen. “You’re in luck, Galen. Since you’ve been such a scandalous absentee and Reed has been so very … congenial, I’m pleased to inform you that Reed will be the first in my tests. Once we get you out of here.”
Out of here? He’s moving them? Galen tries to decide if this changes things, and he hopes Reed’s thinking the same thing. Galen knows that Kennedy isn’t stupid enough to move them without tranquilizing them first. Or without help. Maybe that’s who he was talking to on the satellite radio.
No, they have to stick with the plan. Which is why Galen is pleased that Reed seems to agree.
“No!” Reed shouts. “No! You don’t want me to go first.”
Mr. Kennedy turns on him. “And why is that Reed? Because right now, if I had the equipment, I’d be taking all kinds of painful samples from you.”
Reed shakes his head. “I’m not that interesting, I swear. I’m pretty ordinary, in fact. I can only Blend, but—”
“Blend? What do you mean blend?”
Reed’s mouth snaps shut. “Nothing.”
Kennedy nods and walks calmly to the table, retrieving the lock there and gingerly testing the weight of it in his hand. Then without word or warning, he closes his fist around it and strides toward Reed, his expression blank. The Half-Breed makes himself small against the wall, and Galen knows this is real, healthy fear, but no matter how compressed he can make his body, it will be of no help. Kennedy’s fist connects with Reed’s jaw, sending him sprawling to the side. The chains catch him violently and force him to sit back up, or possibly dislocate his arm. “In case you’re not aware,” Kennedy sneers. “That was not a test.” Reed’s lip is swollen and red in the corner where a small tear has begun. “Now that we’ve set the bar,” Kennedy continues, “I’ll ask again. What do you mean you can blend?”
“Please don’t hurt me,” Reed says. “But I’m not supposed to show our Gifts—”
And Galen is again impressed.
Kennedy is not. He clutches the lock with one finger, striking Reed with the body of it across his nose. This time blood spurts across the room with the force of the blow, and when Reed opens his eyes, there are real tears in them. Galen knows the nose and face area are sensitive places for humans. He wonders how much of the pain registers with a Half-Breed. Not much, he hopes. If it were Emma in Reed’s place, Galen might have broken through his chains by now.
Kennedy hovers over Reed as he gains his composure. Reed slides up with great effort, using the wall to straighten his back. Galen doubts the trembling of his hands is fake.
The biologist lightly tosses the lock back and forth in front of him, keeping it in Reed’s line of vision. “I shouldn’t like this as much as I do. I suppose that makes me a bad person. Maybe it’s all the years I’ve spent as a laughingstock in my profession, eh? All the disapproving looks from my colleagues. The invitations to parties and award ceremonies that stopped coming. All the grant requests for research denied. No one wants to throw their lot in with a crazy mermaid hunter, right?” He nudges Reed’s ankle with the tip of his boot. “But you won’t deny me, will you, Reed.”
Reed groans. “Please stop. I’ll show you. I will. Just please stop.”
Still, Kennedy raises the lock, taking aim again.
“Enough!” Galen barks. “He’s had enough.”
Kennedy spins on him, scrutinizing his face with malice. “You’d spare him, Galen? This pathetic girlfriend stealer? I’d think you’d be the first to see him suffer. Perhaps, you don’t know the extent of their relationship, hmm? How accommodating Emma has been?”
Galen swallows the unvarnished fury spreading through his veins like hot liquid steel, fortifying any cracks of brokenness he had left in him about the kiss. Reed kissed Emma. She didn’t kiss him. And if Galen gets out of here, Kennedy will pay for what he said.
Kennedy can tell he’s hit a nerve, an entire army of nerves really, and his mouth smiles in a way that says he has more where that came from. Galen’s body is near shaking with contempt, but he strains against it. Allowing himself to become provoked is not a good strategy for this game they’re playing. Or maybe it is. Rage tends to be useful.…
Through clenched teeth, he says, “Reed is just a Half-Breed. He can’t take hits like that. I can. Take your anger out on me.”
Reed flashes him a questioning look. Galen offers the slightest of shrugs. Telling Kennedy about the existence of Half-Breeds is not a great idea, Galen knows. But telling him fragments of information to lead him on is.
“A Half-Breed,” Kennedy says, interest sparkling in his eyes. “Very well, Galen. Tell me about Half-Breeds.”
Galen leans his head back against the wall and grunts as if he’s disappointed in himself. Kennedy falls for it. “Oh, now,” he chuckles, “you’ve spilled the beans, Galen. You might as well tell me.”
Galen doesn’t hesitate to answer. “You’re supposed to be studying the town of Neptune, and you haven’t figured that out yet? Some marine biologist.”
Reed nearly brains himself on the wall in frustration. This was not the plan and Galen knows it. Somehow, he needs to put everything back on track. Which means keeping his mouth shut. I’m the quiet one. I’m the quiet one. I’m the quiet one.
Kennedy presses his fist against his chin, cracking his neck from side to side. Galen has seen this done before on television. The actor did this to intimidate someone. To Galen, cracking joints just shows how fragile humans are.
“I’ll tell you if you don’t hurt him,” Galen blurts as Kennedy takes two slow steps toward him.
Kennedy’s nostrils flare. “Truth be told, Galen, I was thinking about testing your pain tolerance. You have a few wounds I could easily reop
en, don’t you think?”
Galen relaxes against the wall, exuding as much cockiness as he can—a trick he learned from Toraf. “By all means. Whenever you’re ready.” He can take countless hits from a human and recover without much effort. After all, he’s just been through worse—Tyrden’s hard Syrena fists do much more damage than a mere human’s—and even Reed seems sturdy enough against the wrath of a lock-wielding scientist.
The two dilated orbs that used to be Kennedy’s eyes narrow down at Galen. “If it weren’t a waste of time, I’d be tempted to call you on your bluff. As it is, you have five seconds to explain.”
Galen nods. “Half-Breeds are half human, half Syrena. The result of the two mating together. As such, their bones and skin are weakened by their human genes. Not like a full-blooded Syrena. I could take blow after blow from you.” Galen laughs for effect. “I’m afraid you’d tire out before me.”
Not entirely true, especially given his all but fresh bruises already, but at least the somewhat altered facts appear to slow Kennedy’s rage. “A cross species? Really?” Now the man looks like an eager, attentive child. He turns to Reed. “So that explains the stark contrast in coloring. You’re not two separate species, but a mix of two. Fascinating.”
Reed allows his lips to quiver. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you those things.” He casts Galen a defensive look.
Galen rolls his eyes. “Show him how you Blend before he beats you senseless. My patience only goes so far, Half-Breed.”
Kennedy gives off what can only be described as a cackle. “You two are delightfully at odds, eh? But now now, Reed. Let’s see about all this Blending business.”
Reed’s shoulders slump. “I’ll need a glass of water.”
37
NO ONE can really get comfortable when they have a gun pointed at them.
Yet Tyrden sits and talks as if we’re in his living room and I am his guest. As if we have cookies and milk before us, instead of an unconscious injured man who is now bleeding from the nose.
And he’s such an illustrious storyteller, I’m afraid he’ll get too excited and pull the trigger by accident.
“So when Antonis sent another messenger to Reder, I decided to take advantage of it. Can you guess who the messenger was?” By his expectant expression, he’s waiting for an answer.
“Jagen?”
Tyrden slaps his knee. “Correct!” He shakes his head. “Jagen and I hit it off as soon as we met. He understood that Neptune—and the kingdoms, of course—were capable of so much more. It’s adorable how some people are just contented to exist, isn’t it?”
As for me, I’d love to keep existing. And so far, asking questions is doing the job. “So you and Jagen wanted to … improve the kingdoms?”
“And Neptune,” he says.
“How?”
“By improving the leadership, obviously.”
In other words, by taking over and running things how they saw fit.
“You see, Jagen saw how poorly your grandfather ruled. The only reason he sent messengers to land was because he was constantly looking for news of your mother. Otherwise, I believe he would have severed his relationship with Neptune as well. Old fool.”
My grandfather did become a recluse after my mom disappeared. I’m not saying it was right or wrong; I’m just saying it was understandable. Grief does strange things to people.
“We couldn’t get close to Antonis in order to overtake him, but we could get close to Grom. As luck would have it, he was in need of a mate, and Jagen just happened to have a daughter of age.”
“Paca.”
“Paca,” Tyrden says gleefully.
“So you’re the one who taught her how to train dolphins? When she disappeared on land, she came to Neptune?”
“Oh, no, of course not. Do I look like I know how to train dolphins?” He huffs. “I taught her how to act human, dress human, do human things. Then I sent her to Florida to learn how to train the dolphins.”
Toraf said he tracked Paca to the coast of Florida after she had gone “missing.” So that’s where she learned the hand signals she used to convince the entire Archive council—even Grom—that she had the Gift of Poseidon. She was purposely found after she had learned her skill. And so started the conspiracy to take over the Triton kingdom. Of course, the reappearance of my mother, the long lost Poseidon princess threw a huge wrench in those plans. What would have happened if Mom didn’t show up? If Grom had remained mated to Paca?
“But Grom still would have been king,” I say. “I don’t think he would have agreed to—”
“How dare you interrupt me,” Tyrden says in a low, calm voice. The look in his eyes has changed from carefree and pleasant to cold and calculating. “Do you think I’m a fool?”
“Sorry,” I say quickly. “I think you’re brilliant.” And I think you have a gun pointed at me. “But I was just wondering how Grom played into all this.”
Tyrden sneers. “He doesn’t. We were going to kill him.”
38
REED TAKES the cup of water and dumps it onto his forearm, then starts rubbing the damp skin furiously. Galen admits that he’s just as enraptured as Kennedy—the idea of a Half-Breed with the ability to Blend is beyond Galen’s wildest imaginings. Even Dr. Milligan had dismissed the possibility.
Will he be surprised, Galen thinks to himself. If I ever get the chance to tell him.
After what seems like enough time for the friction to cause a small fire, Reed’s skin begins to camouflage itself. Kennedy gasps, and Galen wonders if Reed used the same trick to impress Emma.
What he concludes is probably. And he wonders if Emma can do it, too.
Reed starts to breathe heavily with his exertions. “If I stop rubbing, it will turn back to normal,” he explains to Kennedy.
“Why?” Kennedy wonders aloud.
“I don’t have a clue,” Reed admits.
Kennedy nods, thoughtful. “Does your whole body have this ability?”
Reed shrugs, stretching out his arm. “My arms, legs, and stomach do. I assume the rest of it is fair game.”
“We’ll see about that.” Kennedy turns on his heel to face Galen. “Can you Blend, Galen?”
“I can Blend, but I have to be completely submerged,” Galen lies. He does need water, but not a whole lot of it. And he doesn’t need to rub five layers of his skin off, like Reed does.
“Hmm,” Kennedy says. “I’m guessing it’s some sort of defense mechanism. Like the way an octopus cloaks itself by changing color?”
Galen shrugs, uninterested. “Sorry. I haven’t had the opportunity to ask an octopus how it Blends.”
Kennedy raises a brow. “You’re not very likable, are you, Galen? Tell me, Reed, is this all you can do?”
Reed nods, rubbing his arm now for comfort instead of necessity. “That’s all I can do. But him?” He nods toward Galen. “He can do something even more special than Blend. Galen has the Gift of Triton.”
And the plan is officially in action.
“The gift of … of Triton? What on earth is that?”
“Tell him, Galen,” Reed says.
“No,” Galen says with finality.
Kennedy doesn’t like this answer. “Galen, I feel there’s a lack of communication between us. It would be in your best interest if we resolved it quickly.”
“I already told you. I’m not afraid of you and your scary metal lock.”
Kennedy’s mouth becomes a straight line. Galen can tell he’s on the verge of throwing a Rayna-level fit. “Yes, you’ve made that very clear, haven’t you? But how do you think your Half-Breed frenemy here feels about me and my scary lock?”
At this, Reed stiffens. “What? I’ve told you everything! He’s the one not opening up!”
“I told you he’s had enough,” Galen protests calmly. “He can’t take anymore. He wouldn’t make a very good test subject if he were dead.” At least, that’s what Dr. Milligan always says when Galen gets himself into trouble.
Kennedy chuckles. “No, not dead, of course not. But I can work with ‘damaged.’ So what do you say, Galen?”
“I say go to hale.” Or was it hell that Rachel was always talking about? He can’t remember.
At any rate, Kennedy seems to grasp his meaning. He fists the lock in his hands and strides once again toward Reed. Galen allows him to strike him a first time, right in the jaw. It’s something Galen had intended to do anyway, possibly worse, ever since he learned Reed put his lips on Emma. One more blow is not going to make or break Reed, just hurt his feelings a tad.
When Kennedy raises his arm again, Galen intervenes.
“Stop. I’ll show you.” Galen says it with a sigh, and not only for Mr. Kennedy’s benefit.
Reed spits blood on the floor beside him and glowers at Galen from across the room.
Kennedy raises his fist further. “Are you sure? You seem wishy-washy, Galen.” He goes in for another blow, and Galen is tempted to let him do it. But he knows it’s not right anymore. Well, not that it was right to begin with but …
“I said I’ll show you. Are all humans hard of hearing?”
Why Kennedy continues to put up with his smart remarks is beyond Galen. He must, in a way, like to be bullied. Or maybe after all these years as a laughingstock he could just be used to it. “I’m beginning to wonder what Emma sees in you, Galen. You’re not very charming at all.”
Galen shakes his chains for emphasis. Kennedy says, “I have good news. I’m going to remove those chains very shortly, Galen. But first I want to show you something.” From the back of his shirt he retrieves a small handgun. Galen knows what they can do. Rachel had a few of those little things in crevices all over the house.
“This is a gun, you ignorant fish. Maybe my fists and my puny little lock won’t penetrate your skin, but I can assure you that at close range, these bullets will tear through your flesh in a most unpleasant way. Shall I give you a demonstration?” He turns to face the far end of the cabin and takes aim at nothing. The shot is loud and splinters the wood on the far wall. A long, straight rod of sunlight streams in through the hole it produced.