The old man lurched forward in the seat. Trae released me and stepped forward, his body slightly in front of mine. I began moving my fingers, feeling the magic of the dusk swirl around me, fireflies of energy only I could feel.
“Give me the ring,” the old man said, voice soft and all the more deadly because of it, “or I’ll fry that pretty little thing by your side to cinders.”
“If I see even a spark, I’ll drown the lot of you,” I said, keeping slightly behind Trae regardless of my threat. I wasn’t a fool, and he could protect me from fire, as Egan once had.
“Drown?” The old man laughed again. “Lady, we’re a long way from the cliffs and the sea here. As threats go, that’s pretty empty.”
“Not if you bother looking out the windows, old man,” Trae said quietly.
The old man’s gaze darted sideways, and his mouth dropped. Because the sea had answered my call, and she was rushing over the cliffs and down into their valley home in ever-increasing waves.
“Give me what you promised,” Trae said.
“She’s a sea dragon?” He sat back in his chair, annoyance and a surprising touch of humor in his expression. For one brief moment, he oddly reminded me of Egan. “I didn’t think any of them were left.”
“More than you might think,” I said, “and that water is almost here. You might want to hurry up and give us the information, before people start drowning.”
They wouldn’t, of course. I hadn’t called that much water. It just looked like it from the vantage points of the smaller windows—a point we’d counted on when we’d first planned this.
“She’s been moving around a bit, but she’s currently in Fallon, Nevada. Staying in the Econo Lodge, I believe.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. “You can call them and confirm, if you’d like.”
Trae grabbed the phone. “I will. What’s the number?”
The old man gave it to him, then glanced at me. “Where’s the ring, little sea dragon?”
As Trae dialed the number, I raised an eyebrow and flicked two fingers outward, letting some of the seawater recede back to the cliffs while continuing to call the main arm.
It began trickling through the doorways and across the stone floor, pooling around Trae’s and my feet, a whirlpool of silvery blue that began to rise up our legs without ever touching us.
Trae spoke into the phone for several seconds, then hung up and handed the phone back to his father. “She’s there,” he said, glancing at me. “Give him the ring.”
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I flicked the rest of my fingers outward. The whirlpool surged upward and water splashed. Silver glittered in the middle of the spout—silver with ruby red eyes and a heart as cold as the man who had worn it for so long.
Trae caught the ring and the water splashed down, soaking the carpet but not our feet.
“The ring,” Trae said, and handed it to him.
He snatched it from Trae’s fingers like a man stranded in the desert for too long might snatch at a glass of water.
He slid it over his fingers and leaned back in the throne with a sigh. Trae shook his head and looked at me. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
We were almost out the door when the old man said, “I want you off these lands within the hour.”
Trae didn’t say anything, just kept on walking.
I held my tongue until we were out of the old stone building, then said, “He’s dying, isn’t he?”
Trae smiled. “Yes. The ring has been gone for too long. It won’t help him now.”
“So Egan got his wish in the end.”
“Yes. The bastard we call father will soon be dead.”
I splashed through a puddle of seawater, then asked, “But with Egan gone, who will take over the clique? One of the other full-blood brothers?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care. I have my own life and my own family to worry about.” He stopped at the car and opened the passenger door. “And the sooner we can get away from the grip of Mom and the relatives, the sooner we can get on with said life.”