Home > Of Neptune (The Syrena Legacy #3)(39)

Of Neptune (The Syrena Legacy #3)(39)
Author: Anna Banks

A sudden warmth steals through Galen’s body, reaching every part of him. His muscles begin to relax against his will. The need to shape a fin is no longer as urgent. His free arm falls to his side, and he feels himself slumping in the chair. Oh, no. “That wasn’t water.”

Tyrden scoffs. “Of course it was. With a little bit of something else.”

“Why?”

“I just wanted you to get some real rest, Highness. I can’t present you to your brother looking like that, now can I?” Tyrden’s face grows hard. “And not to mention, your wrists are looking awfully raw. You should have told me you were bored. I can give you plenty of activities to keep you occupied.” The chair creaks with Tyrden’s weight as he eases back. “But for now, a story.”

Everything becomes blurry. Galen squints to clear his eyes. Are the walls growing fur? Is the lantern going out?

“That’s right, get comfortable, boy. You’ll want to hear this.” Tyrden leans forward slowly, the light from the lantern casting an eerie glow on his face. “Because everything you thought you knew about the destruction of Tartessos is wrong.”

21

“TAKE OFF your clothes,” Reed says with glee.

I roll my eyes and peel my dress off. “I didn’t peg you for a perv.”

He greedily eyes my bathing suit. “Gross. I hate that word.”

“What? Peg?”

He snorts and strips off his khakis, then takes the rest of our clothing and tucks it safely into the floorboard of the truck. Toby dances from foot to foot in the moonlight, his bright red swimming trunks illuminated into an ugly brown. “Hurry up, Reed. We’re gonna be late!”

Reed grabs my hand and pulls me toward the water. I hear, but don’t actually see, Toby plunge in ahead of us. The disturbed water ripples around the point of entry, but it’s obvious after a few moments that Toby doesn’t have any intention of resurfacing. “He’s been here before?” It’s a stupid question. The kid was antsy as soon as we turned down the dirt road to come here.

“He was practically raised in this creek,” Reed says. “He knows his way around these caves better than I do, probably.”

“Maybe I should be holding his hand,” I say, pulling from his grasp. “You’re sure this is the shortest way to get to the Huddle?” The incessant need to talk to the sheriff about Galen is almost overwhelming. I fuss with the decorative strings on the hip of my bathing suit.

“I’m sure,” he says. “Don’t worry. As soon as we get there, we’ll get help, Emma. I promise.”

When we’re about knee-deep, Reed falls backward into the water, but not before he beckons me with a come-hither finger. I ease down, taking care not to forge ahead too quickly. I wasn’t raised here, and I still can’t see into the water from the surface like a full-blood Syrena can. The last thing I need is to rush, bust my nose on a rock or a log, and then greet Galen—because I will see him again—with two black eyes.

Because on my pale skin, black eyes shoot to a whole new level of hideous when they heal.

Apparently Toby has left us completely to ourselves. I stay close behind Reed, but my eyes don’t adjust well in this crummy freshwater, and I have to give in and take his hand again. He leads me through a series of what I can’t really call caves—they remind me of slides at a water park, only they’re ridged, filled with water, and we’re swimming through them instead of sliding. Sometimes the space gets cramped, and I’m forced to press my body against Reed’s to fit, or else risk bumping my head on low-hanging stalactites.

I notice that during these close encounters, Reed seems to hold his breath. Then I freak out a little on the inside, because I hold mine, too. I try to push the thought aside, and not play the “What does this all mean?” game.

Because it means nothing except Reed is a member of the opposite sex and we’re in a state of undress and I’m not totally unaware of it. We’ve got skin touching, for crying out loud. And, yes, I’ve noticed he’s attractive, blah blah blah. But that’s all it means.

So then why do I feel ashamed of simply being aware of him?

“Emma,” Reed says, startling me from mortification. “It’s wider now. You can, uh … You can swim on your own. If you want.”

I clear my throat of the nothing that’s in there. “Oh. Yeah. Thanks. Sorry.”

My eyes are adjusted well enough to see his small, satisfied grin. Or maybe I just imagine that I see it. Either way, he knows he’s unnerved me, and I know he knows it. “It’s not too far ahead now,” he says. “And that’s the last of the tight spots. If you really concentrate, you can sense others farther down. They’re kind of the guardians of the cave.”

But all I can really concentrate on is the fact that in a few minutes we will be out of the water, away from each other and physical contact and hopefully whatever source of light is in this cave won’t be bright enough to expose the blush I know is smoldering on my freaking cheeks.

Then I remember something I can concentrate on. “Toby said you shaped a fin. Is that true?”

Reed glances at me but keeps moving. I’ve caught him off guard. “I’m going to beat the fool out of that kid when I see him next.”

“So it is true.”

He sighs and halts us. I really can see his face, though not all the details, but now I’m pretty sure I did catch a spy of a grin a few seconds ago. And I’m mortified all over again. “I didn’t do it on purpose, though, is the thing,” he says. “So I can’t show you how to do it or whatever. It just sort of … happened.”

   
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