A - Immortal Sea

cannot promise you a future, Elizabeth . ”

She didn‟t need guarantees, no longer believed in happily-ever-after. But her children deserved stability. Security.

“Are you sure you don‟t want a ride to work?” she asked Zack at lunchtime on Tuesday.

He grinned. “I don‟t think a little water will hurt me, Mom. Unless you‟re worried I‟m going to grow gills on my way to

Wiley‟s.”

Her pulse bumped. “Very funny,” she said dryly. “Don‟t forget your jacket. You want me to pick you up?”

He accepted the jacket, shrugging into it as he opened the door. “No, I‟m good.”

“Zack . . .”

“Mom, I‟ve gotta go.” His gaze met hers briefly. “I‟ll be fine.”

Would he?

Her eyes blurred as she watched him jump down the porch steps and splash through the yard, a tall, skinny shadow in the

silver rain. At the bottom of their driveway, he slid out of the jacket, bundling it under his arm, turning his face to the sky.

His wet profile looked like Morgan‟s. Her breathing hitched.

She returned to the clinic to see her afternoon patients, an ache in her throat that had nothing to do with the rain.

At the end of the day, the sky had lightened, even if her mood hadn‟t.

“Bobby Kincaid called,” Nancy said as Liz retrieved her wet coat from the stand outside her office. “He should be able to

get to your car next week.”

“Did he tell you why it‟s taking so long to fix a simple broken window?”

Nancy shrugged. “We‟re on an island. It takes time to get parts. And the Kincaid boys were never worth a damn anyway.”

Liz sighed. “Fine. I‟ll call and schedule an appointment.”

At least the rain had stopped. She drove to the community center to pick up Emily.

Freed from the gym, the camp kids whooped and splashed on the playground. Em stood under the fort bridge with Nick,

inspecting something he‟d pulled from his pocket. A bead? A coin? The sight of her daughter‟s round, absorbed face sent a

surge of protective love through Liz‟s chest.

Regina climbed out of the white catering van parked at the curb. Liz raised a hand in tentative greeting, still slightly

embarrassed by the way she‟d unloaded on Regina a few days ago. She badly wanted another woman‟s support. But despite

their exclusive club membership, they hadn‟t known each other long.

Regina waved and hurried over, her brown eyes warm and concerned. “Dylan told me about the fire. You okay?”

“I‟m fine.” Liz summoned a smile. “Soggy.”

“Safe. That‟s the important thing. And at least it‟s over now.”

Her heart clutched, thinking of Morgan. “Over?”

“The rain,” Regina explained. “Margred told the guys she wanted good weather for the baby shower tonight.”

“They can do that?”

Regina nodded as if they were talking about changing the batteries in the remote. “They‟d better. Nobody rains on

Margred‟s parade. Or her party. She‟s been looking forward to it for weeks.”

Liz blinked. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Regina grinned. “Being married to a man who can control the weather is a definite advantage when I have a big

catering job.”

“I imagine it must be,” Liz said faintly.

“You‟re coming, right?” Regina said. “Tonight?”

She hesitated. Would Morgan be there? She missed him with an almost physical ache, as if they had been lovers for years

instead of one evening.

Yet this was a short separation compared to the one to come.

She had survived losing Ben to death. She would survive losing Morgan to the sea.

But she wasn‟t ready to give up Zack. Not yet. Their son still needed a chance to grow up before he made the most

important choice of what could be a very long life. Emily deserved a better role model than a mother who accepted anything

less than everything a man had to give.

“I don‟t want to intrude,” she murmured.

“As if you could. You‟re Maggie‟s OB. If you don‟t belong at her baby‟s shower, I don‟t know who does. Anyway, half

the island will show up, invited or not.” Regina cocked her head. “You sure you‟re okay?”

Liz swallowed around the spiky lump in her throat. “Fine.”

“Good.” Regina pursed her lips. “Morgan looks like hell.”

Liz gaped, flattered and distressed. “Excuse me?”

“He‟s been palling around with Dylan since you kicked him out. Holding the weather system in place—like it takes the two

of them to make rain in Maine—and sulking. Poor guy.”

“I thought you didn‟t like him.”

“You mean because I called him a coldblooded son of a bitch?”

“That was a clue,” Liz said dryly.

Regina grinned. “Okay, so he‟s the opposite of warm and fuzzy. But he‟s good with Nick. And . . . Well, you didn‟t ask for

my opinion.”

Ever since her parents cut off all financial support when she failed to follow their advice, Liz never asked for anyone‟s

opinion. But she genuinely liked Regina. She hoped they could be friends. And she was both concerned and curious about

Morgan.

“Tell me,” she urged.

Regina met her gaze. “Dylan says you told Morgan you need time to think things through.”

Liz nodded.

“That was smart,” Regina said. “Maybe smarter than you realize.”

She hid the pang at her heart. “You think things won‟t work out.”

“I think they might,” Regina said, surprising her. “Once Morgan has a chance to figure stuff out. You‟ve got to remember

they‟re no good at this emotional stuff.”

“They.” Men? Liz wondered.

“The children of the sea,” Regina explained. “Maybe when you live forever, you can‟t afford too many attachments. You

love a human, they die. You love another elemental, you have to sustain that relationship over centuries. Easier not to love at

all.”

“But Dylan loves you.”

“Dylan had to learn to love me. To love anyone. And he‟s at least half-human. This is all new territory for Morgan.

Whether he admits it or not, he needs time to adjust as much as you do. And the fact that he‟s at least trying to consider your

feelings, to honor your request . . . That‟s big, coming from an elemental.”

“I don‟t doubt that he cares for me,” Liz said. His whisper seared her heart: “For no other woman—for no other force on

earth—would I have stayed.” “But I have to think about my kids. Would you get involved with someone who didn‟t know

how to love your children? Didn‟t love you more than his life away from you?”

They both turned to look at the playground.

“No,” Regina said quietly. “No way.”

Emily dashed up, her halo of soft curls bouncing. “Mommy, look what I got!”

She tipped back her head to show off the camp lanyard around her neck. Hanging between with the red “caring bead” and

blue “responsibility bead” was a silver disk with three interconnected spirals radiating from the center.

Liz bent for a closer look. “That‟s very . . .” Her breath hitched. Something about the gleaming medal teased at her

memory. “Pretty.”

“It‟s a triskelion,” Regina said.

“A what?”

Regina turned over her wrist, exposing a simplified version of the same symbol tattooed against her pale skin. “It‟s a sign

of protection. A ward. Earth, sea, and sky—that‟s the three curving lines, see?—around a common center.”

Liz studied the flowing lines. “You got this for protection?”

Regina grinned. “Hell, no. I got it because I was drunk and thought it was some kind of female empowerment thing. It