The weapon leaves the Tracker’s hand. It’s the longest second of Galen’s life, waiting on that spear. Instinctively, he snatches Emma closer to him, covering every inch of her with him. He feels the small wake of the spear as it swipes past them. That was too close.

At first, Rayna’s growl barely gets Galen’s attention. After all, it sounds like mere frustration, the familiar beginning of a normal tantrum. But this growl builds, swelling into a roar. The cracks in her voice seem to meld together again, creating something new. Something that hasn’t been seen in many, many generations.

She draws up, as if collecting some invisible power around her.

And her scream moves the water.

19

ONE SECOND I’m clinging to Galen for dear life, the next I’m separated from him and pushed back by … Rayna’s scream? Is that possible? I look around at the new faces of Syrena surrounding me, eyeing me as if I pulled them back with me. They are all as shocked as I am. Five seconds ago, we were about thirty yards closer to her.

She blew us over like empty aluminum cans in the wind.

And it looks like she’s about to do it again. She turns, takes a big breath of water into her lungs, and screams at a large Syrena male who just tried to spear us, near-hysteria on his face. The momentum of her voice is visible, causing the water in front of her to warp and surge and spread like giant hands reaching toward the Syrena with the weapon.

He doesn’t have a chance to get away. The sound wave slaps him dead-on, carries him up and over the crest of the small valley—are those freaking volcanoes?—and through my wall of sea creatures surrounding us. It even pushes back some of the biggest whales.

The upchurned earth starts to settle around us. It looks like a dust storm in the desert, but the water eases the sand back down instead of all at once. The valley looks freshly swept. All eyes are on Rayna, who is now bordering what looks like a major case of hyperventilation.

“Nobody hurts her, you understand?” she says, her voice now completely intact. “I won’t … I won’t let you.”

Some of them back away from me. Others talk among themselves. “Gift of Triton,” they whisper to one another. Toraf looks like his jaw might fall off.

Rayna has the Gift of Triton. She’s living proof that the Royals never strayed. And now I’ve blown my cover for nothing.

But there is someone who’s already recovered, someone who has already thought this through and found the result lacking to his satisfaction. And while everyone—including me—is paying attention to Rayna, he sneaks up behind me out of nowhere. Jagen’s pulse hits me just before the sharp jab in my back. I know I’ve been stabbed, but at first it just feels like a pinch. And then the pain consumes me.

“Die, you filthy Half-Breed!” he growls.

And then I do not sense him anymore. In fact, I don’t sense anyone anymore. Not my mother, not Rayna, not Toraf, not Grom.

Not Galen.

Where there used to be a gigantic valley of Syrena pulses hitting me from every direction, there is nothing. The world goes black around me and I can’t tell if my eyes are shut or they just stopped seeing. If I’m losing my sensing abilities, if I can’t see anything, does that mean I’m dying?

I’m not as brave about it as I hoped I would be. It’s one thing to contemplate the possibility of dying. It’s another thing to actually be dying. I’m not brave at all. Ohmysweetgoodness, I’m scared.

I don’t want to die.

And all at once, his pulse resuscitates me, brings me back from the ledge. Galen. His arms envelop me and we are speeding, speeding, speeding through the water. I can’t even open my eyes—it’s like gravity is forcing them shut. I want to sob into his chest but I don’t have the strength. I try to speak, but our pace snatches the words from my mouth.

We have never gone this fast. Not ever.

The pain in my back is numbed by the water rushing against it, and I hope it’s not tearing the flesh open, and at the same time I hope the salt water is somehow healing it. I know I’m bleeding. I feel warmth gather where the numbness starts. I felt Jagen’s weapon pierce me. I felt it touch bone.

I press my face into Galen’s neck. He stops immediately, cradles my cheeks in his hands. If we were going by expressions alone, I’d say he was in more pain than me. “Angelfish,” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry this happened. We’re almost to land. No one can hurt you now. Stay with me, Emma. Oh, please stay with me.”

He kisses me all over my face and all I know is that everything up until this point was worth it. The hassle of getting Toraf through security. The terrifying jump from the helicopter. Even the argument I know Galen and I will have about all this later. The agony in my back. The terrifying moment I thought I would die.

He cradles me in his arms princess-style, then picks up the pace again. For a second, it looks like Galen’s fin has more than doubled in size. That’s when I know I’m hallucinating. I don’t know if it’s the pain or the loss of blood or both, but I lose consciousness.

* * *

Right away, I recognize the scent of Galen’s house, of the lemon-scented air fresheners Rachel places strategically throughout. Of the clean linen scent of freshly washed sheets. Of the aroma of fish baking in the oven.

The light of morning creeps into Galen’s bedroom window, casting the start of a new day on the white furniture and cool blue-painted walls. I feel him beside me, hear the even sound of his breathing, smell the delicious saltiness of his skin.