Galen doesn’t have time to wait for any adolescent savior. Even if Emma’s making enough adrenaline to stay down here, it’s a miracle the shark hasn’t given up on Chloe and attacked her. He starts toward her a second time. And for a second time, he stops.

It’s just that … she doesn’t look as though she needs help. Her pale face is contorted with anger. Not fear. Not distress. Just fury. Her white hair floats around her like an aura, jerking in delayed reaction with each of her capable movements. She grunts and growls in frustration. Galen’s eyes widen as she lifts her leg to kick. Her human legs are not powerful enough to do damage; water slows the movement, blunts the force of the blow. Still, she lands her mark on its eye, and the impact is enough to make the beast let go. It doesn’t leave, just makes a wide circle around the girls. And then it swims directly at them.

Galen charges. Of his kind, he is the fastest. He can make it to her before the shark, snatch her away, and probably even change back to human form before she sees him. But why bother to change back at all? He’s in blended form right now, his skin mimicking the water all around him. All she would see is a watery glob carrying her to shore. Even if he un-blended, if he let her see him, no one will believe her if she tells. They’ll insist she lost consciousness, that she swallowed too much saltwater, that she was too traumatized to know what she saw.

But he wants her to know, wants her to see him. For some reason beyond sense, he wants Emma to remember him. Because this will be the last time he ever sees her. There’s no need to follow her, to watch her. After today he has no interest in her. A human cannot unite his people. Not even a breathtaking one.

Breathtaking? Rayna’s right—you’ve lost your mind! He groans and speeds up. Emma’s scream almost chokes him.

“Stop!” she yells.

Galen stops. But Emma’s not talking to him. She’s talking to the shark.

And the shark stops.

Emma wraps both arms around Chloe and hugs her to her chest, leaning her friend away from the attack. “You can’t have her! Leave her alone! Leave us both alone!”

The shark turns, saunters away as if sulking.

Galen gasps. He watches until the smooth sway of its tail disappears in the distance. He tries to comprehend it. Because what he knows, absolutely knows, about bull sharks is that they don’t back down. Aggressive and ruthless, they are one of the most feared creatures among Syrena and humans alike—the most likely to attack the young of either kind. And this one just surrendered his meal, his rightful kill.

Galen’s attention whips back to Emma when he hears her strangled cry. She is still clutching Chloe, and they are sinking. Emma kicks her legs and flails with her free arm. Her face is not angry now but full of distress. Fear. Exhaustion. Emma looks like a real human.

Galen hears a noise approaching, the soft thrum of a boat getting closer. Rayna. But will she be in time? Each passing second drains the spirit from Emma’s fight. Her kicking becomes erratic, her arm thrashes without any clear purpose.

Galen is frozen in indecision. She isn’t human—she can’t be. Adrenaline might help a human hold her breath, but not for this long. Plus, humans don’t talk underwater—especially when doing so sacrifices precious oxygen. And bull sharks do not back down from humans—especially one as puny as Emma. Still, they don’t back down from Syrena either. Unless Dr. Milligan is right. Unless Emma has the gift of Poseidon.

But if she is Syrena, then why didn’t she change? She could have saved her friend’s life. Why doesn’t she change now? Surely she knows her friend is dead. Why make a show of struggling in human form? Can she sense me the way I sense her? Galen shakes his head. There is not enough time to consider these things. For whatever reason, Emma is willing to drown to stay in human form.

And Galen will not allow it.

He launches toward her. The boat is visible a short distance away, breaking the waves on the surface. One way or the other, Emma will be saved. The boat stops overhead and Galen pauses. He can reach Emma if he needs to.

A white light strikes through the water, and the beam rests on Emma and Chloe; it is the first time Galen notices the absence of natural sunlight. The sun must be completely set. Two humans plunge in and swim directly to the girls. Galen knows Rayna must be on board, directing the light; without the Syrena’s ability to see into the water, these helpless humans could never have found them, even with a spotlight.

Emma releases Chloe to the lifeguards, nodding to them in understanding as they pry her lifeless friend from her protective grip. The two exchange a surprised expression as they kick their way to the surface. They lift Chloe onto the boat, but not before Emma catches a glimpse of her leg—a dangling bone from knee to ankle. Her anguished cry siphons the last of her oxygen, the last of her will to fight. Her body falls limp, her eyes close.

Galen wraps his arms around her before she sinks an inch.

Ignoring the two splashes on the other side of the boat, he pushes Emma to the surface and into the waiting arms of his sister. Rayna heaves her over the rim of the craft.

When Galen falls back to the water, he spots the two lifeguards and rolls his eyes. They don’t even realize Emma is already safe on board. They wade themselves stationary, not willing to search beyond an arm’s length ahead of them. Without the spotlight, these pitiful creatures can see nothing. If Galen weren’t here, Emma would be dead.

Infuriated, he torpedoes between them. The momentum spins them around like tiny whirlpools. He hears their startled cries as he swims away.