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A: Immortal Sea

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A Immortal Sea
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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 Kantra.

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.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

eISBN : 978-1-101-44297-5

BERKLEY ® SENSATION

Berkley Sensation Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

BERKLEY ® SENSATION and the “B” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

http://us.penguingroup.com

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

Immortal Sea - изображение 4

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 . . .

Immortal Sea - изображение 5

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— shadowman —brushed by her like a shark in the water, knocking her flat on her ass. She landed hard,

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