mer-human foundation had accepted bids and chosen Ryerson Deep Water Construction to build this platform, and then Merrit Ryerson had squeezed in and made himself a key figurehead. He clearly liked power. And he had sounded so plausible on the top of the pyramid, but he’d used the same phrasing as the man who’d kidnapped her nephew from a hospital. Dannika had identified him, and it looked as if law enforcement had as well. So he was both, somehow. A champion who honestly thought the ocean platform was the future and a villain who would do anything to stop mermen from rising and claiming their mates.
But there was one man who didn’t have two faces.
And if she’d been stronger, she would have been able to stop him from getting kidnapped.
Her therapist had walked her through how to handle the depersonalization. She was supposed to internally address her shield and say, “Thank you, but you don’t need to protect me right now.”
But she couldn’t thank this mechanism. It worked great when she was all alone and she needed not to cry. But it worked terribly when she was in a life-or-death situation like when the warriors had stolen Gailen.
When she needed to act and the film wrapped her up in invisible cables, how could she say thank you? She’d tried on her bunk, silently mouthing the words, but the straitjacket had just tightened more.
After another day of lost time, Starr had regained control and begun the steps to dismantle the film. Unite her halves. Repersonalize herself.
It would be easier if she had something to focus on. Something like Gailen’s Sea Opal. She still had to ask him about it, but at least she knew the truth inside her heart.
Gailen was out there.
And she was suddenly certain that he was returning to her.
She’d forced herself to get up, shower, and eat. Then she’d returned phone calls, including Dannika’s, which confirmed what was already public knowledge—that Ryerson had been formally charged, gone in front of a judge, and been fitted with an ankle bracelet. He was on home arrest in one of his many mansions awaiting trial.
“And all his traffic will be monitored,” Dannika had told Starr with glee. “These are only the first charges. They can add more as they investigate. I hope he incriminates himself even more.”
“What’s the response from the local chapters?”
“Well, mixed.” Dannika’s good cheer had deflated. “I’ve just gotten the report from Mel. Some can’t believe he’s the leader, others think he’s a decoy, and yet others are worshipping him as a hero. How someone could worship two domestic harassment charges and three restraining orders, I don’t know.”
Even though Ryerson had been caught, the foundation was playing it safe. Mel would remain in the Florida office, always available for any emergency. Dannika was preparing to sail from Sanctuary Island in the Caribbean to the platform by yacht, staying above the water so she would be available at any time.
“Others are doing the same,” Dannika had said. “Aya, for example, is leading the brides gathered in Europe on the boat—”
“Don’t tell me,” Starr had said. “This phone should be secure, but I still haven’t dismantled the stingray.”
“Oh, yes. Right. Don’t worry, I’ve been vague on my communications with the city.” Dannika had sighed. “It’s demoralizing that the Sons of Hercules were so deeply entrenched. Right on the platform! But we’ve almost put this behind us, and soon, we’ll enjoy a new age of peace.”
Yeah. Sure. That sounded nice. “Dannika?”
“Hmm?”
“What happens if this isn’t the end? What if the Sons of Hercules aren’t done?”
“You just have to neutralize the stingray, right?”
“I don’t know.”
Dannika had been silent for a long moment. “We’ve talked about it amongst the queens. What if the All-Council figures out how to sever the cables or jams the turbines centering the platform over Atlantis, or, heaven forbid, sinks the platform altogether.”
Exactly.
“There comes a point when you must choose what you want and ignore any obstacle. Any obstacle. These brides have been waiting for years, and we already delayed once. They might be at the point of no return, or they might give up.”
That would be awful.
“It depends on how badly they want it,” Dannika had continued, subdued. “And everyone must answer that question for themselves.”
Starr had ended the call and sought Bob, but he was busy, so she’d left a message. She’d passed Ryerson’s assistant sitting in an isolated corner of a crew snack room, typing quietly into his laptop. He’d looked up and watched her walk