“If they think someone else will be a better king or queen, then let them come forth,” I say. “Just because I was born into the Gold Court doesn’t mean I wanted any of this. I fought Ehmora to protect the people. I stepped up and claimed my father’s legacy.” I slip cold fingers into Lo’s. “My choice of a mate does not impact my ability to lead.”
“But it does, Riss,” Speio interrupts in a soft voice. I turn a shaken glare on him. As if reading my thoughts, he throws his palms into the air in a supplicating gesture. “Hear me out. Think of it from their point of view. You won back your throne on the sands of battle. They offered you their trust and a crown. Then they find out that you’ve bonded with a hybrid—an abomination in their eyes—and not one of the eligible suitors from any of the lower courts. No offense, Lo,” he says with an apologetic look in Lo’s direction.
“None taken,” Lo says.
“That wasn’t my fault.” I hear Lo’s swift indrawn breath at my rashly spoken words, but I’m too incensed to think clearly about what I’m saying. Or what it means.
“Doesn’t matter. To them, it’s a betrayal at the core. You chose him—a hybrid—over them.”
“I didn’t betray them. The bond chose him,” I blurt out. Lo’s fingers slip from mine and for a second, I wish I could take back what I’ve just said, but it’s too late now. His presence, so comforting before, is now rigid and cold.
“You and I both know that isn’t true,” Jenna chimes in feelingly. “I was there, remember? In that room with your mother. She gave you the choice to let Lo go, and you chose not to. That wasn’t the bond. That was you, Riss.”
“She’s right,” Speio says. “But regardless of how it came to be, you are now one, despite him not being oceanborn. Because Lo isn’t one of us. He is your regent, not theirs.” Speio sighs, pressing on. “They don’t trust him, which means they won’t trust you. At some point, you will have to choose. Land or sea. From their vantage point, you can’t have both. You can’t defend both. They need a queen who is one hundred percent on their side.”
“Is that what you think?” My voice breaks slightly. “That I don’t have my people in mind every second? That Waterfell isn’t my first priority?”
“It doesn’t matter what I think, Riss. I will always have your back—you have to know that by now. It matters what they think. In the end, it’s him or them.” He takes a breath. “Why do you think Neriah was trying so hard to release you from the bond?”
“Speio, that’s enough,” Echlios says.
“Wait, what?” I whisper with a tortured glance at Lo, the floor dropping out from beneath my feet. “She was trying to do what?”
“Give you a fair chance,” Speio says, braving Echlios’s ire.
Echlios steps in, his voice measured. “I suspect that she, too, has spies in Waterfell. She is well aware of the cost to you, despite what she may have done in the past. Perhaps she wanted to make amends for...bringing you and the prince regent together.”
All of my mother’s cryptic questions come back to haunt me in hindsight—the ones asking me whether I’d choose Lo again if we weren’t bonded, whether I’d risk everything for him. My response then had been impassioned and heartfelt, but now that push comes to shove, I find myself hesitating. Would I do the same if the cost were my people? Would I choose Lo? Could I give Lo up if that is the choice the Aquarathi require of me to remain their queen? Maybe this is what Echlios means about human weakness—my mind says one thing, but my heart is screaming another.
The sudden attack of conscience does nothing to change what I told my mother. Speio’s right. Jenna’s right. They are all right. A crown is nothing compared to what I would give up for Lo. He has my heart and my life—they’re both his for the taking.
“My choice would be the same...my water is his,” I say simply, searching for Lo’s hand and grasping it tightly. He squeezes back, guardedly at first, and then more forcefully. “But I was born to lead my people, and I won’t give up my throne, either. My father told me to be a worthy queen, and that is the only thing I can do.”
“Good,” Echlios says in fierce approval. “For now, we have a bigger threat than Waterfell politics. Cano needs to be contained. He must be dealt with swiftly and quietly. Anything more, and we risk certain exposure. We need to know how many hybrids he has created, and where he’s hiding them all.”
“How are we going to do that?” Speio asks.
“We hunt him down.”
“Yeah, but how?”
I’m wondering the same thing when my gaze is drawn to Cara laughing loudly at some story Soren is recounting out on the patio. Without her help today, things could have turned out way differently. Maybe Lo would be dead. Jenna, too. Either way, I couldn’t have done it without her. Nor what I’m about to do. I shake my head at the incongruity of it all. Who would have thought that she of all people would become the linchpin in this whole plan? Then again, stranger things have happened. I am an Aquarathi queen with a human for a best friend and a hybrid for a boyfriend. Stands to reason that my sworn high-school enemy would factor in somehow.
A slow smile spreads across my face. “I think I have an idea.”
19
Clash of the Teen Titans
Every single eye lands on us with varying degrees of disbelief, and hallway chatter peters out to stunned silence. I can imagine what the Dover students must be seeing—you know that scene out of every high-school movie where the mean girls walk down the corridor dressed in careful artlessness wearing matching uniforms, and everyone stares at them and gets out of their way?
Well, it’s not that.
It’s the one where the queen of the mean girls walks down the hallway with the kids on the very bottom of her peon list, and everyone’s head explodes.
“Keep walking,” I say to Cara under my breath. “Over there. Outside courtyard.”
“How did I get roped in to this?” Cara groans once we are at the far end of the courtyard under a large coral tree. She glances back at the school, where inquisitive faces dart away from windows. “No one’s going to buy this, you know. There’s too much...bad blood between us.”
I force a smile to my face. “Just act natural.”
Cara jams her hands on her hips and purses her lips, glaring from me to Lo, to Jenna and Sawyer. “You know, just because we went all Abduction down in Imperial Beach, it doesn’t mean I’m on your side. I helped to find Lo. Period.”
“Hey,” Sawyer protests. “I’m way hotter than Taylor Lautner.”
I glare back at her, biting back a grin at Sawyer’s indignant expression and Jenna’s immediate eye roll. “You don’t care that your uncle might have gone off the deep end, creating more of those chimeras with unsanctioned experiments?” I ask.
“No,” Cara says, and then sighs. “Yes, but I don’t see why we have to pretend to be friends. It’s our senior year and I’m...”
“Worried we may rub off on you?” Jenna says snarkily.
“Exactly,” Cara shoots back.
“You know not everything is about being prom queen, Cara.”
“Says she who could never be prom queen,” Cara says with scathing contempt. I feel a short burst of dislike before I stifle it. God, she can be catty at the drop of a hat.
“Stop,” I say to the both of them. “None of us may even be around to enjoy prom if we don’t do something about Cano.”
“It’s not like he’s here,” Cara says sourly.
Jenna’s face goes from irritated to pissed off. “Listen, dimwit. Where do you think he’s going to go now that he knows we broke into his house? And didn’t you hear Nerissa last night? He’s doing genetic experiments on himself. How dangerous do you think that is?”
Cara’s eyes widen to shocked orbs. My gaze flicks to Jenna, who reddens and looks away. Cara hadn’t been inside for th
at part of the discussion, and Jenna knew it. “What?” Cara whispers.
“It’s true,” Lo says gently. “I saw him.”
“Yeah, dude,” Sawyer chimes in. “He’s totally gone Dr. Moreau on us.”
“Dr. Moreau?” Cara repeats.
“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier,” I say, sighing at Sawyer’s clueless and insensitive comparison. “I thought you already knew, but forgot you were outside when it came up. We can’t prove anything, but after you guys left, we saw him. He looked...different.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s experimenting on himself,” Cara whispers, but I can see that she doesn’t quite believe that. She knows exactly what her uncle is capable of.
“He ran down the beach faster than any human being could,” I say.
“We could go to the police,” Cara says. “Report it.”
“We could, but we don’t have any actual proof of what he’s doing.” I pause, not wanting to say that involving the police would cause more trouble than it was worth. “Plus, if word got out, it’d be a media circus.”
“I...” Cara trails off miserably.
I take pity on her a little. “Look, you’re already friends with Lo. Think of us as his...accessories.” With a deep breath, I decide to tell her the truth...a partial truth. “The thing is, there are people at Dover looking for your uncle. We don’t know who they are, and that’s why we need to put up a front at school. I want to draw them out. If they are working under your uncle, someone may slip up, mention something.”
“What about my dad?” she asks. “Can he help? He’s the principal.”
“No, Cara,” I say. “You can’t say anything. It could be anyone, even him.” I hasten to explain. “I’m not saying it is your father, but you’d do anything to protect your family, wouldn’t you? I would, and so we can’t take the chance.” I gesture to the five of us. “It stays here, in this circle.”
Cara opens her mouth as if she wants to say something and then shuts it. She swallows hard. “So, then...why are you trusting me?”
“You didn’t have to go with me to look for Lo and Jenna yesterday,” I answer honestly. “You could have walked the other way and you didn’t. You earned it. And you deserve to know what’s going on with Cano, and put a stop to his animal experimentation for good.”
“Hey, guys!” someone shouts from the top of the courtyard. Rian waves and heads down to join us.
“Speio, the circle thing goes for you, too,” I warn him swiftly. “I mean it. No one outside of us five.”
“What are you guys doing down here?” she says with a bright smile, blinking in surprise at Cara. “Oh, hey, Cara. Didn’t see you there.”
“Hey,” Cara mumbles, and stares helplessly at me.
“We were talking about doing a charity fundraiser for the SPCA with Cara,” I improvise madly. Cara stares at me with a bewildered expression, but then catches on as the words tumble out of me like dominoes. “And since we’re all animal advocates, we kind of thought it’d be cool to do an event at the Marine Center.” I make a mental note to check with Kevin.
“Right, fundraiser,” Cara repeats.
“Yeah,” Sawyer interjects. “For dolphins.”
“And turtles,” Lo adds helpfully.
“That’s a terrific idea,” Rian says, looping her arms around Speio’s waist. “Count me in. I can do the flyers—I’m really great with graphics.”
And this is why lying never pays off. On top of drawing out Cano’s spies at Dover, I now have to add planning a Save the Dolphins and Turtles event at the Marine Center to the list. As if I don’t have enough to worry about with an insane, self-splicing, genetic scientist hot on my heels. Just awesome. With an inward groan, I nod brightly at Rian. “Of course.”
As if sensing a window of opportunity, Cara waves and makes her escape from our clutches as quickly as she can.
“See you at lunch, bestie,” I shout after her, grinning as Lo stifles a snort beside me. The look she tosses over her shoulder is just priceless.
“So, when is it?” Rian asks as we walk toward the building, retracing Cara’s rapid dash exit. “The charity thing?”
“Next weekend,” Jenna pipes up.
“Whoa, that’s really short notice,” Rian says. “That’s not much time to get the word out.”
“Yeah, Jenna,” I say through clenched teeth. “Not enough time.”
“It’s the perfect time,” she insists with a meaningful stare. “We want to draw a crowd, don’t we? From all outlying areas, all the way down from Solana to Imperial Beach.” I don’t miss the emphasis on the last two words.
Oh. And this is why I have a brilliant best friend. Cano won’t show up at the school or at my home. Too risky and too heavily guarded. But a public fundraising event is a whole other ball game. After we thwarted him in Imperial Beach, this will be a perfect opportunity for payback. He won’t miss it.
“Yeah, it’s next weekend,” I confirm.
“Cool, I’ll get to work,” Rian says. She kisses Speio and takes off. “See you guys later. Have to go meet Birch.” Oh, right, for her independent study. So she’s a prodigy who knows everything there is to know about humans, a talented graphics artist and literally a force of nature. At least all that energy will be put to good use. “I’ll send you a proof tonight,” she says over her shoulder. “And I can help with getting some local sponsors, too.”
“Sure,” I say a bit dazedly.
“Got your hands full, mate?” Lo raises his eyebrows at Speio, who shrugs with a sheepish grin. “You know, if this were a sitcom, it’d be called Five Minutes with Rian.”
“More like three minutes,” Sawyer says with a guffaw.
“Eww,” I shout, covering my ears. “TMI. And how would you know about Speio’s three minutes, anyway?”
“Boy talk.”
I shake my head at him. “Seriously, if there were a sitcom about you, it’d be called Gossip Boy.”
Sawyer smiles smugly. “And it would be awesome.”
“Come on,” I say with a wry grin. “Let’s get to class before Sawyer goes all XOXO on us.”
The morning passes quickly as all my classes flow into each other with predicable promptness—history to calculus to French. The bell rings and we stumble to the next in rehearsed ranks. The only class the five of us have together is English, but we see each other in the hallway at the lockers between classes. Lo and I are the only two who have exactly the same schedule. He transferred to French earlier in the year to prove that he could. I frown, remembering the day he showed up, impressing Madame Dumois with his flawless accent. Jenna and I had thought it was to impress me, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he was placed there.
“Lo,” I whisper, braving Madame Dumois’s explosive wrath. “Who transferred you into French?”
“No one,” he says. “The office said there was a mistake on my schedule.”
“And you didn’t think to worry about it or question why you were suddenly enrolled in advanced French?”
“Why?” he answers in perfect French. “I’m fluent, and you’re here. It was a win-win.”
I literally have to force myself to look away from the magnetic traction of his eyes, and the sound of those sonorous French words falling from his lips like candy. I’ve never wanted to throw myself at someone more and ravage the French from his mouth. I drag my eyes away from those infernal lips.
“Monsieur Seavon,” Madame Dumois says sharply. “You have something to say? The answer, perhaps?”
Lo’s recovery is impeccable. He smiles and stands with a flourish with barely a glance at the paragraph in the textbook we’re supposed to be reading. “Oui, madame. According to the text, DeMille’s friends find him to be too impractical, especially after the death of his brother. The answer is B.”
“Ex
cellent,” Madame Dumois says approvingly. Her eyes drop to me, and I breathe a sigh of relief as they keep going to the far side of the room, where they settle on a more alert Rian. “Mademoiselle,” she says to her, “next question, s’il vous plait.”
Rian’s answer fades into the background. I’m still worried by the fact that Lo’s schedule was changed without any viable explanation. I mean, sure, a mistake could have happened, but assuming it was a mistake is a giant leap. Not making the right connections could be the difference between life and death. I shrug as Dumois’s onyx stare flutters in my direction. I fix my eyes diligently on my French textbook. I’ll have to figure it out later or risk getting thrown out of French class. Luckily there’s only five more minutes before the bell rings.
“What was that all about?” Jenna asks me as we dump our books in our locker before heading to lunch to meet Sawyer. “In French? You looked distracted. See anything weird?” She glances around, searching for something...or someone. “Where’d Lo go? Wasn’t he just here a second ago?”
“Bathroom,” I say absently. “No, I didn’t see anything. I was just wondering how come Lo got transferred. He said it was a mistake.”
Jenna shrugs. “They make scheduling errors all the time. Last semester, they had me signed up for advanced chorus. Can you imagine me even holding a tune? Yeah, huge mistake.”
In the cafeteria, Sawyer waves to us from an empty table as we get in line to get our food. Seeing him reminds me of another scheduling error that I’d forgotten. “Oh, right, didn’t Sawyer get placed in aerobics in sophomore year or something like that?”
Jenna swings around with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh no. He signed up for that one all on his own. I swear to God if he didn’t have Adonis abs and the cutest butt I’ve ever seen, he’d be history.”
“You love him,” I say with a grin. It’s not that Sawyer’s not smart. He pulls A’s and B’s. He just walks to his own beat, and he’s more in touch with his feminine side than most boys, which in my eyes is a bonus. And he’d do anything for Jenna. “He’s got a good heart and he loves you, and that’s all that matters.”
Oceanborn Page 24
