Free Sea Lord by Virginia Kantra Page A

into . . .”
    Her throat closed. The pressure expanded in her chest. She couldn’t say it. Because then she would have
    to take him seriously. She would have to take a lot of things seriously that she was usually very, very
    careful not even to think about.
    Conn nodded. “A seal.”
    Maybe she was still hallucinating. Or dreaming. “ Your mother was selkie. ”
    Lucy shivered, pulling the blanket tighter. The fur whispered against her naked skin.
    Fur. Oh, God.
    She shuddered and thrust it away. The heavy pelt pooled at her feet.
    He watched impassively.
    “Was it . . . Is it . . .”
    “Mine,” he confirmed.
    She struggled to breathe. “I was wearing . . .”
    “Think of it as borrowing my coat,” he suggested.
    She blinked. Was he trying to make her feel better? “You’re an animal.”
    He frowned. “An elemental.”
    “There’s a difference?”
    “The elementals are immortal, part of the First Creation. Your own mother—”
    “You leave my mother out of this. I told you, I don’t even remember her.”
    “You are heir to her bloodline,” Conn said. “Her power. You and your brothers.”
    Her brothers.
    She caught her breath.
    His explanation burst in her head like a lamp in a darkened room. Like a door opening in her mind. The
    scene from the other night took on a whole new light. Her family, united against her. Caleb and Margred
    exchanging long, meaningful looks that for once didn’t have anything to do with them being newly
    married. Dylan, tense and silent. Even Regina had looked at her—avoided looking at her—with tactful
    sympathy.
    She didn’t know them anymore.
    She didn’t know anything.
    “They . . . know?”
    “Yes,” Conn said.
    She winced. “All of them?”
    “Yes. Your brother is selkie. Margred, too.”
    She stiffened in rejection, even as the knowledge lumped in her gut. “I don’t believe you. Caleb—”
    “Not Caleb. Dylan.”
    She was cold. Naked. Freezing. “That’s impossible.”
    “Is it? Where do you think he was all those years?” Conn’s voice hammered at her, relentless as the sea.
    “Where did Margred come from?”
    Lucy’s brain whirled. Her tongue stuttered. “She . . . She was attacked. On the beach. Caleb found her.”
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    On the beach. Without clothes, without memory, without any idea of how to get on or any family to
    report her missing.
    Lucy’s legs folded like wet string. She sank back onto the chair. Oh, God.
    “Why didn’t they say something? Why didn’t they tell me?”
    Silence.
    “I believe,” Conn said at last, “they desired to protect you.”
    Her anger flashed again. “From what? You?”
    “From your destiny.”
    Her heart pounded. “I don’t think it’s my destiny to be stranded at sea in my underwear with you.”
    Stupid. She snapped her mouth shut. She shouldn’t have reminded him how naked she was. How
    vulnerable she was.
    Right. Like he didn’t know. Like he couldn’t see.
    “I mean you no harm,” he said, almost gently.
    She stuck out her chin, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest. “Tell that to my brothers.
    They’ll come after me.”
    Wouldn’t they?
    Okay, so they weren’t all one big happy family. Maybe they had secrets. Maybe they’d even lied. But
    Caleb would search for her. She could count on Caleb. Even when she was a fourteen-year-old runaway
    puking her guts out in a gas station stall, her brother had tracked her down.
    “They will not find you,” Conn said.
    His assurance shook her. She was cold. So cold. The fur caressed her ankles. “Caleb will. He’s a cop.”
    “He is not even aware that you are missing. I left a claidheag in your place.”
    She was getting pretty tired of gawking and saying, “What?” So she didn’t say anything.
    “A claidheag is a simulacrum,” Conn explained as if she had asked. “A living image created by magic.”
    “You made an image of me.”
    He