Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Teaser chapter
“Virginia Kantra is one of my favorite authors.”
—Teresa Medeiros, New York Times bestselling author
PRAISE FOR
Sea Lord
“Brilliantly sensual and hauntingly poignant, the Children of the Sea novels are on my keeper shelf!”
—Alyssa Day, New York Times bestselling author
“Oh, this was a marvelous coming of age story, and the best in a truly excellent paranormal romance series. This book had it all: passion, magic, conflict, and a truly amazing heroine.”
—ParaNormal Romance (Top Pick)
“Virginia’s selkies are some of the most fascinating paranormal creatures around . . . Lucy and Conn’s romance is both epic and wonderfully intimate, and Sea Lord really delivers—both on the emotional front and on the action front. The stakes are high in Sea Lord, and readers will feel every moment.”
—Dear Author
“With lush writing, vivid descriptions, and smoldering sensuality, Kantra skillfully invites the reader into the heart of the selkie sanctuary and into the hearts and minds of her characters.”
—Romance Novel TV (5 stars)
“Fast-paced, tense, sizzling, and romantic! Much like the previous books, Sea Lord kept me absolutely enthralled.”
—Errant Dreams Reviews (5 stars)
“Highly recommended!”
—The Erotic Reader
“You will find yourself so engrossed in this story, you will hate to put it down until you have read the last page. Ms. Kantra has become an auto buy and this book is one for the keeper shelf.”
—Night Owl Romance (Top Pick)
“A fantastic romantic fantasy.”
—The Best Reviews
Sea Fever
“An especially fine paranormal with strong characters, logical plotting, and a great sense of place. Don’t go to the shore without this bit of selkie romance.”
—Romantic Times (4 ½ stars)
“An exciting and spellbinding addition to this phenomenal paranormal series.”
—Fresh Fiction
“There’s no second-novel slump for this trilogy . . . Moving, heartbreaking, and beautiful.”
—Errant Dreams Reviews (5 stars)
Sea Witch
“A paranormal world that moves with the rhythm of the waves and the tide . . . Kantra tells Margred and Caleb’s story with a lyric, haunting, poetic voice.”
—Suzanne Brockmann, New York Times bestselling author
“Full of excitement, humor, suspense, and loads of hot, hot sex. Anyone who enjoys a good paranormal should not miss this one!”
—Fresh Fiction
“An absolutely fantastic paranormal/fantasy read . . . Gorgeous, complex, and fascinating.”
—Errant Dreams Reviews (5 stars)
“What a refreshing and unique world Virginia Kantra has created for Children of the Sea! Full of sensual magic, intrigue, and compelling characters, Sea Witch is a book to be savored.”
—CK2S Kwips and Kritiques (4 ½ clovers)
“A bestseller arises from the depths of the sea and floats to the top of the romance/paranormal list! Sea Witch is enthralling!”
—A Romance Review (5 roses)
Home Before Midnight
“Sexy and suspenseful . . . A really good read.”
—Karen Robards, New York Times bestselling author
“Virginia Kantra is a sensitive writer with a warm sense of humor, a fine sense of sexual tension, and an unerring sense of place.”
—BookPage
Close Up
“Holy moly, action/adventure/romance fans! You are going to love this book! I highly, highly recommend it.”
—Suzanne Brockmann, New York Times bestselling author
“Kantra’s first foray into single-title fiction is fast-paced, engrossing, and full of nail-biting suspense.”
—Sabrina Jeffries, New York Times bestselling author
“Honest, intelligent romance.”
—Romance: B(u)y the Book
MORE PRAISE FOR VIRGINIA KANTRA AND HER BESTSELLING NOVELS
“Smart, sexy, and sophisticated—another winner.”
—Lori Foster, New York Times bestselling author
“An involving, three-dimensional story that is scary, intriguing, and sexy.”
—All About Romance
“Kantra creates powerfully memorable characters.”
—Midwest Book Review
“Virginia Kantra is an autobuy . . . Her books are keepers and her heroes are to die for!”
—Suzanne Brockmann, New York Times bestselling author
“Packs a wallop!”
—Elizabeth Bevarly, New York Times bestselling author
Berkley Sensation Titles by Virginia Kantra
The Children of the Sea Novels
SEA WITCH
SEA FEVER
SEA LORD
IMMORTAL SEA
HOME BEFORE MIDNIGHT
CLOSE UP
Anthologies
SHIFTER
(with Angela Knight, Lora Leigh, and Alyssa Day)
OVER THE MOON
(with Angela Knight, MaryJanice Davidson, and Sunny)
BURNING UP
(with Angela Knight, Nalini Singh, and Meljean Brook)
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
IMMORTAL SEA
A Berkley Sensation Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Berkley Sensation mass-market edition / September 2010
Copyright © 2010 by Virginia Kantra.
Excerpt from Forgotten Sea by Virginia Kantra copyright © by Virginia Kant
ra.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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eISBN : 978-1-101-44297-5
BERKLEY® SENSATION
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To my readers.
Thank you.
And for my children.
You have my heart.
Hence in a season of calm weather
Though inland far we be,
Our souls have sight of that immortal sea
Which brought us hither,
Can in a moment travel thither
And see the children sport upon the shore,
And hear the mighty waters rolling evermore.
—WILLIAM WORDSWORTH
As fair art thou, my bonie lass,
So deep in luve am I:
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
Till a’ the seas gang dry.
Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun:
I will luve thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run.
—ROBERT BURNS
Foreword
IN THE TIME BEFORE TIME, WHEN THE DOMAINS of earth, sea, and sky were formed and fire was called into being, the elementals took shape, each with their element: the children of earth, the children of the sea, the children of air, and the children of fire.
After earth had flowered and life crawled from the sea, humankind was born.
The children of fire rebelled against this new creation, declaring war on the children of air and humankind. Forced to cohabit with the mortals, the other elementals withdrew: the fair folk to the hills and wild places of earth and the merfolk—selkie and finfolk—to the depths of the sea.
Over the centuries, the children of fire grew strong, while the children of the sea declined in numbers and in magic. Now the very survival of the merfolk hangs in the balance. A closer alliance with humankind might save the children of the sea. Or destroy them.
Yet all acknowledge that some contact is inevitable between the elementals and mortal men and women. From such encounters, souls are redeemed and lost, wars are waged, great art is created, empires are raised.
Of such meetings, legends—and children—are born . . .
1
COPENHAGEN, SIXTEEN YEARS AGO
THE TRIP OF A LIFETIME, THE TOUR BROCHURE had promised. Culture, nightlife, adventure, and romance in Europe’s most swinging capital.
Twenty-two-year-old Elizabeth Ramsey tightened her grip on her purse strap. Getting accosted outside a dance club in Copenhagen might qualify as adventure.
But romance?
She looked at the men blocking her way back inside the club. Three of them—she counted—with pockmarked skin, bad hair, and crappy attitudes.
Not a chance.
She bit her lip, betrayed by the travel company’s PR and her own expectations. Her cheeks were hot. Her head still pounded from the techno beat vibrating down the grimy steps.
The skinny guy in the middle called an invitation, thrusting his hips forward suggestively. The red neon sign over the club’s entrance illuminated the line of his underwear and a slice of hairy stomach.
Oh, no.
She glanced again at the club door, hoping for rescue. A couple of women maybe, or another American. If Allyson had only stuck by their buddy arrangement . . . But her roommate had ditched her earlier that evening for a Swedish graduate student, Gunnar or Gondor or whatever his name was. Sooner or later, Liz would have to make her way back to their hotel alone.
She looked around for a cab. Or a cop. Copenhagen was safe, everyone said, even at three in the morning. But she didn’t speak the language. She wasn’t in control of the situation. She hated that.
Plus it would totally suck if the first time ever she flouted her parents’ wishes, they turned out to be right after all.
Liz shifted her weight in her platform sandals. Better to walk away, she reasoned, than get into a wrestling match with the Grunge Triplets. She was only a block or two from the square. Plenty of taxis there.
She anchored her tiny purse under her arm and picked her way along the cracked, uneven sidewalk, scanning for a cab.
Mistake. She realized it almost at once. Because instead of abandoning her for more willing game inside, the three men followed. Skin prickled on her upper arms, exposed by her skimpy halter top. She needed a jacket.
She needed to get the hell away.
She heard them behind her, scuffling feet and whistles that required no translation. Her breathing hitched. She quickened her step, her gaze darting in search of a lit window, an open door, the lights and bustle of Nørrebrogade.
Nothing. Just the flat, black waters of a canal and a row of small, shuttered shops, their bright facades faded to gray by the night.
Nerves scraped under her skin. Had she turned the wrong way? Should she turn back? But they were right behind her, heavy footsteps, coming closer, coming faster, almost—
Her neck wrenched. Her head jerked back.
Ow ow ow.
Pain and panic flared. Tears stung her eyes. The guy following her had grabbed her hair, yanking her to a halt.
She whirled in self-defense, striking out, striking back. Her clenched fist connected with something hard and moist. Her knuckles burned.
She’d hit the bald guy. The big one. Snatching back her hand, she watched, appalled, as blood bloomed in his mouth.
His companions laughed. Violence thickened the air.
Oh, God. Oh, shit. What had she done?
Slowly, her attacker dragged the back of his arm across his cut lip. He stared down at his wrist; up into her eyes. And smiled, his teeth stained with blood.
Fear tightened her chest. She sucked in her breath to scream. Before the sound escaped, movement flashed in her peripheral vision. Something big, something fast, flowing out of the darkness behind her.
She flinched from this new threat.
But the thing—shadow—man—brushed by her like a shark in the water, knocking her flat on her ass. She landed hard, jarring her wrists, scraping her palms.
Darkness swirled in the narrow street. Dazed, she heard a thud, a crunch, choked sounds of pain or surprise. Fighting. Her insides roiled with fear and relief. They were fighting. She grabbed her purse, fumbling for the whistle she carried on campus.
Two sets of footsteps pounded against the pavement, leaving her attacker splayed in the gutter on the other side of the street and one man standing in a puddle of moonlight.
Shadow Man. Her rescuer.
She blinked. From her position on the ground, he looked larger than life, tall and leanly muscled in a long black leather coat.
He turned, the coat flaring around his ankles, and her heart jumped into her throat. His face was angled, cold, and pale, his hair the color of moonlight.
Liz swallowed hard, her gaze sliding up that long, powerful body to his face. His features were too strong to be really handsome, his nose too broad, his jaw too sharp. His upper lip was narrow, the lower one full, curved, and compelling.
She shivered with fear and something else. Just because he was cleaner and better dressed than the punks who had followed her from the club didn’t make him any less dangerous.
She snuck a glance at her attacker lying motionless in the gutter.
Okay, more dangerous.
She
couldn’t see her rescuer’s eyes, shadowed by the line of his brow. He stood a moment longer, watching her, waiting for . . . What? Thanks? Tears? Hysterics?
And then he turned away.
An unreasoning urgency gripped her, sharper than fear. “Wait.”
He paused. Her heart hammered. Did he even speak English?
She scrambled to her feet, wiping her palms on the thighs of her jeans. “I . . . Thank you for, uh, helping me.”
He ignored her, dropping on his haunches by the body in the gutter. She watched him pat down her attacker, searching for a pulse.
Or maybe his wallet.
She gripped her purse tighter. “Why did you?”
He glanced briefly over his shoulder. “It was hardly a fair fight. I do not usually interfere in the affairs of your kind.”
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