“And, Ceto, I wouldn’t get rid of all your guards if I were you.”
Ceto smirked. “But you aren’t me, are you, Angel?” “No, thank the gods. I’m Angel Tritone, daughter
of the previous High Councilman and sister of the current one. I know exactly who I am. The question is, do you?”
Not that Rod would want her using his position to fix her screw-up, especially since she’d disobeyed di¬rect orders, but one sure thing about her brother was his loyalty. As far as Ceto knew, a High Council contingent could arrive at any moment, which would put a kink in whatever she thought she was going to do.
Thank the gods, The Council, and everyone else who’d so put the fear of the gods into Ceto, the sea monster called back three of the sharks, leaving Brutus, the biggest, to guard Logan and Michael. Still not ideal, but it did give Logan a fighting chance.
And she meant that literally.
“I know who you are, too, Angel! You’re my bestest friend and you’re a mermaid!” Michael laughed be¬fore turning to Logan and reaching for his hand. “See, Logan? I told you they were real. And I bet Santa Claus is, too. But not the Easter Bunny. Somebody would catch a giant rabbit and make him a pet if he was. But I wouldn’t. I didn’t even try to catch Stewart, ’cause Angel said it wouldn’t be nice to be in a cage, and he’s kinda weird anyway.”
Brutus snorted and herded them toward the corridor on the left, directly opposite from where she and Logan had entered. Not where Angel preferred, but as long as they were moving away from Ceto, they had a chance.
“You wanna see the oysters, Logan?” Michael kept up his chatter. Gods, she’d miss that. “They’re ugly, but they have really pretty pearls inside them. I even found a black one, but Ceto said that that one was too little to play with. I want to find a pink one.”
As they reached the corner, Brutus too close behind them for Angel’s liking, she heard Michael say, “I want to give it to Angel, ’cause she’s a girl and girls like pink. ’Cept Rainbow doesn’t. She likes blue, but I don’t think they make blue pearls. What’s your favor¬ite color, Logan? I like red the best, then blue. We had lots of blue stuff…”
Logan glanced at her as they turned the corner, but Angel pretended to misinterpret his don’t do anything foolish look. She’d do whatever it took to make sure they got out alive.
“He’s not going to leave here.” Ceto’s voice was right behind her.
Fluttering just the tips of her flukes, Angel turned slowly.
Ceto floated forward in all her evil glory, her twin tails pulsing that hideous red she was so fond of, her malachite curls backlit by the hatchetfish lights like some Hades-inspired crown.“You shouldn’t have come.”
Angel crossed her arms, shaking with anger, but she knew Ceto would think it was fear. “You didn’t leave me a choice.”
Ceto slid a stray curl away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “You don’t need this one, Angel. You’re more than capable of producing a brood of your own. Something, in case you’ve forgotten, that I am not per-mitted to do.”
“Ceto, I understand your pain, but—”
Ceto’s tails flared like a flash of fire, then went black. The remaining makos scattered out the archways at the far side of the chamber. Angel didn’t blame them.
“No one understands.” Ceto advanced on her. “Not you, with your youth and your beauty and your virile, handsome Human. Not even your brother. I would have expected him to get it since his wife has begun spawning their own. Those old cronies I’d hoped Rod would have had the good sense to replace on The Council don’t understand either. They never did. No one understands.”
Actually, Angel did understand. But Ceto’s losses didn’t justify her actions. And they certainly shouldn’t enable Angel to feel any softening toward the sea mon-ster. There was no softness in Ceto. Not when it came to what she wanted.
“Ceto, let him go. Let them both go. They aren’t yours, and they don’t belong here. They need to be back in their world.”
Ceto’s hair flared out as if an electric eel had slammed into her, the curls almost straightening in her anger, then recoiling like a spring. The fairy basslet dance troupe dispersed as quickly as the makos had, leaving her and Ceto alone in the giant theater where the sea monster’s words rang off every stone surface.
“Belong? You’re one to talk. You were on land with them, Angel. Tried to pass as one. I’m supposed to back off from something that’s my right while you upset ev-eryone else’s natural order by communing with them? I don’t think so, little girl. I’ve had it with the half-assed generosity of The Council. Joey Camparo is no prize, let
me tell you. I want a child, and since they’ve refused to allow me my own, I’m taking Michael.”
“Take me.”
“What?” Ceto’s curls stopped mid-bounce. “Take me instead.”
“An interesting offer, Tritone, but you’re hardly child material any more. If you’d made that offer twenty-five selinos ago, we might have had something to talk about.”
“No, Ceto. I don’t mean as your child.” Angel straightened her back and took a deep gulp. “Take me as your hostage.”