3. Castor

"Kraken?"Hagen's voice vibrates. His thick fingers fly, pounding on his keyboard.

"Yes." I glare at Eros. I've told Hagen a lot, but I hadn't gotten to the Kraken or our tumultuous relationship with them. Rage pulses through me. I'm furious with those in power for taking a mermaid. Both Dorian and Kraken. But with Eros too. "Does your pod know where you are?"

"Yes," Eros growls. "I've made mistakes in the past, but I'm part of a pod now. Yes, they know." He shakes his head. "But I also don't have false evidence to give the security council, not when the military took them right out from under our noses. I was going to use the evidence to get my sister back. That option is gone. They'll know the Omicron beat me to them."

"Kraken, you say?" Hagen clears his throat. He heard Eros but wants him to say it again, I'm unsure why. "I know a guy who might be able to help."

I know I've hired what my research says is one of the best security firms in the shifter world. And I should trust him, but...

A knock vibrates the door, and it opens without warning. A light-brown-haired male stands in the doorway. "Excuse me, Hagen. Damn, did you see that the power grid went out? Good thing we have our backup."

Hagen's hands don't stop jabbing his keyboard. The forceful clicks echo in the bright mahogany and green cave-like room.

Hagen cracks half a smile. "Really? Who would have expected that? It's a good thing, Pat. Hey, can you pull me the footage from our Milk Street and alley camera?" I have no doubt that Hagen had something to do with the surveillance cameras and the grid going down.

"Sure, the same warehouse we've been watching?"

Hagen nods at his employee. "That's the one."

"Already done. All the cameras right around the time of the power outage are dead. Missing?—"

"Like two minutes?" I ask.

"Ninety seconds, but yeah." He blinks at Hagen.

"Fuck. Right, okay. So your guys are good." Hagen looks at me and then at Eros. "I was hoping we'd have another angle to track the women's movements." Hagen cocks his head at me. Neither Eros nor I explicitly said where the women would be taken.

I trust him but not enough to trust the people he brings to me without question. "Who's your guy?" We've had a minute. Eros is right. The only one of our ships that could have sent the destruction missile is the Omicron. The Centauri is heading out or may have already headed out of the Veiled City. But its size holds it back from having the speed the Kraken have. No, that shot came from the Omicron. The same ship Nole is on right now. I pull out my block and text him. Holding two conversations is something I do all the time in my office in Athens.

Nole, what was that? Do you have the human women?

I don't have anyone.

Cut it out. I was outside the building where they were being held when the attack squad landed. A minute later, the building was obliterated.

Obliterated? That's being a bit dramatic, isn't it?

Not really. It's gone. Along with the cameras and surveillance in the area. Nole. I need to know that Annabelle's family is doing okay, that the mafia here or the missile didn't hurt them.

You think Lachlan would ever harm a hair on a female's head?

No. But then I don't know him all that well, only what others say about him.

No is right.

So they are on board.It was a statement, not a question.

I'm not confirming or denying that. But you know what Constantine would say.

And that lets me know they are on board. Mother's youngest mate would say the world's greatest treasure is the gift of possibility. And mermaids make life possible.

I stare at my block before turning back to the two in the room with me. They've gotten really quiet, obviously waiting for me to tell them whom and what I was messaging about. "They're okay." I nod to Hagen and give Eros a knowing look. They're okay if you consider being taken on a ship with five hundred males who haven't seen a mermaid in a long time as okay. Sure, they're not mermaids, but ever since the arrival of Annabelle, talk has floated around the city about the possibility of more human women being turned.

"I wouldn't want to be Lachlan. But maybe I would." Eros gives one of his infuriating smirks. "The feeding frenzy on the ship will be something that Lachlan is going to have trouble containing."

I nod. Because I still don't want to give all the specifics to Hagen. At least, not ones that he doesn't need. "You have a contact? I should be getting back home. But I don't want the Kraken getting Marina any more than Eros does."

"I do." Hagen opens and downs another protein shake. "He's... well, no way to be gentle about it. He's Skyrothasian. Or as they call them, an exmanti. There are a few of them living in the city. He's my go-to when I need to know something about your kind."

My index finger pounds on the desk. I'd heard there were Skyrothasians living among the humans. Hell, each of the domes has someone running a business with the humans. Like me. Like the Zaffiros have their jewelry stores and mines. "And you trust him? Our nations aren't exactly friendly right now."

"Yeah. In fact, he mentioned there were civilians on both sides of the New Year's Day battle living in Boston."

"A Dorian living in the city. No, I don't think so."

Eros nods. He's been quiet. "If you think your contact can help, then yes, let's get going. I don't have much time. Rather, Marina doesn't have much time."

Hagen stands. "Let's go then."

I'm still trying to digest the fact that I messaged Nole this morning and at no time did he say the Omicron was outside of Boston on a mission to capture two humans with the mermaid gene. I'm going to have to have a long talk with my little brother.

I let my eyes flick over Eros's back. He's all for taking off to meet Hagen's contact.

The hallway is blindingly white in contrast to Hagen's office. Hagen pushes the button for the elevator and crosses his arms over his barrel chest. He gives me a nod and turns the other way. While the ceilings are high here, it's cool like a cave. I study the male. I can't help but wonder if Hagen isn't half giant but rather half something else. Human, most likely. Not troll—his eyes aren't narrow. But it doesn't matter. What matters is getting Annabelle's cousin and aunt back. What matters is me getting back to the Veiled City and finding out who ordered the girls to be taken and who is blowing things up for Glyden. And then back to Athens, back to my job, as soon as possible.

The senior council of Glyden, including several former governors, have worked around the clock since the explosion at the dome; they're trying to figure out who caused the destruction of our lobby. We haven't found a single clue. And now this. Someone has ordered the women captured, while another faction wants them dead.

Maybe the exmanti have it right. My world is a tangled mess. Leaving it all behind feels rather tempting.

The crowded street takes me by surprise. In the distance, sirens faintly drone on. We follow Hagen to a waiting car on the other side of the street.

"Where to?" the driver asks.

"Kat's Bakery."

"You back on with your sweet tooth, boss? They're open today?"

"Yeah, it's never going to go away, no matter what I do. And for me, they're always open." The giant folds himself up into the front seat, and we slide into the back.

Heavy traffic makes it take almost as long to ride there as it would to walk. When the car pulls up in front of a cafe, my leg vibrates. We need to get the info for Eros and get back home.

Hagen hops out. "Circle if you have to; we'll be right back." He taps the front window. "I'll bring you back a box."

"You're the best." The driver salutes him, and Hagen shakes his head, then darts down an alley. For someone as large as he is, he doesn't lumber. No, Hagen Brakenridge is surprisingly light on his feet. Most big guys aren't fast. Eros and I trail him.

Hagen stops. "Wait here."

"Who exactly do you work for, Eros?" I ask.

Eros swallows. "You know. People."

"I'm sure. Which people?" My insides are firm.

He glares at me.

"I see." Someone in the government. There are all kinds of strange groupings of governors and odd alliances between domes. Some that are centuries old. Most of them should have gone away a long time ago.

Hagen is back. "They'll see you."

That's interesting. He said he had a contact—not contacts. The wind howls between the buildings. Down the alleyway, which opens up into a courtyard, the snow has been carefully pushed off of a set of little green café tables. Kat's is clearly closed. The blinds are tightly drawn over the door, and the neon "open" sign is dark. Hagen lets us in.

It's divine in here. And the case has a few pastries left. Most I don't recognize, but at the bottom are two that look suspiciously like ones from home. I really didn't expect to find anyone from the Veiled City living among humans. Yes, I know that's something Skyrothasians permit. But not us.

A small female comes through a back curtain. Her eyes are wide. "Hagen, you're sure?"

"Yes, Kat."

"Okay, then. Come this way. Arthur will see you," she says. Her clogs shuffle back through the curtain, and I get a better hold of her scent. She's human, but she's mated to someone who isn't.

There's a kitchen directly off the pastry shop. She marches us through it to a spiral staircase. Hagen winds up the stairs, leading with his head, his hair scraping the step above him as he does. On the second floor, a thin mustard-colored door creaks when she opens it. Beyond it is a minuscule sitting room, big enough for a mid-century sofa, a bookcase, and a small overstuffed chair.

"Arthur?" calls Kat.

I'm taken aback. Arthur sits on the end of the sofa, a book on his lap. He's very much a merman. His long hair has grayed, and he has a patch of scales behind his ears that shine from the light of the reading lamp next to him. Visible scales sometimes happen in older mermen who don't shift regularly. It's like their body craves the salt of the ocean and needs to remind them they have two identities—one with a fluke and the other with legs.

Arthur stands, and his appearance loses some of its age. "Forgive me. It's Boston in the winter and I'm not as excited about sneaking off to shift as I used to be. I'm old. And the harbor is wicked cold." His lips turn up in a smile.

"Oh, I understand. My great uncle would put off shifting because he was too busy studying. He'd try to go three or four months until he'd wake up in the night partially shifted. I'm Eros Herod." Eros extends his arm for the traditional Dorian greeting. But Arthur takes Eros's hand instead, shaking it. "Right." Eros gives it an extra pump. "I'll come right out with it. I'm really hoping you can help me, or rather, my sister."

"Well, it's not me you would be interested in talking to but Stavros." He sits back down.

"Oh, and is Stavros here?" I take a step forward. I don't have time to float; I need to race with the jet stream.

Kat nods. "He'll be home from work soon. Stavros rents a room from us."

"They're mermen, Kat. You don't need to cover for how we live with them."

"Yes. Force of habit." Her eyes flit to the braided rug on the floor and back to me.

"Of course it is." Eros breaks out one of his over-the-top charming smiles, and Kat's shoulders relax.

She takes a cloth from a tray of pastries on the table behind her and puts them on the coffee table. "Please help yourself." She sits down next to Arthur.

Hagen looks at the pastries like they might make him grow a third arm, but then he turns to her. "Thank you, Kat."

"Oh, and I packed up a few boxes for you to take back to the pack."

"That's really kind of you."

"I know how you like the raspberry ones." She takes the tray and holds it out for him.

"I do. Thank you." He picks up the pastry and holds it between his thumb and forefinger. It's gone in one bite, and three more follow.

Eros takes one too. "Honey and nuts. This reminds me of a pastry one of the teahouses makes back home."

"Does it?" Kat smiles and looks down at her hands.

The silence makes me twitch. Around the apartment, there are scattered pictures of Arthur and Kat with another male who must be Stavros. He looks familiar, very familiar, but I can't put my finger on why.

"How long have you been here?" Eros takes another bite, and I succumb, taking one too. Eros is right—it tastes just like a Permula cake from the southside teahouse. The crust, though, is a little different. The bells on the shop door downstairs ring.

"We're upstairs." Arthur's voice projects through the mustard door.

"You said we have guests. Hagen!" Stavros's voice is deep, and it hits me. He has the Braesen lilt, the same one Constantine, my mother's last mate, has.

Stavros steps into the crowded room and slaps Hagen on his back. Luckily, it's between bites of cake. "And oh." He stops and clears his throat. He points at Eros and me. "I'm not going back."

"Honey." Kat stands. "I don't think they're here to take you back. Otherwise we would never have let Hagen bring them in. Right, Hagen? They're not here to take him back."

Hagen nods. "No, they're not here to take you anywhere. We need your help, or rather, they do."

"Right." Stavros assumes a resting military position, his hands behind his back, his feet shoulder-width apart. "What do you need help with?"

"My sister, Marina Herod. She's been taken by the Kraken. Given, actually, but not by herself or our family. Stolen."

"A mermaid stolen? Ho! That's rotten shrimp shells." He grasps his chin. "I don't know how I can help you."

"You don't know anything about Kraken?" I ask.

Kat raises her eyebrows at him.

"You really want me to help them?" He takes Kat's hands.

"Hagen doesn't bring people here, not ones he doesn't trust." Kat stares into his eyes.

"I don't want us in the middle of this war," Stavros replies. He turns and glares at Eros.

"We don't want war. I have no beef with the Skyrothasians. In fact, I think there are answers just waiting to be discovered." I don't want to bring up Annabelle or the gene.

"Oh, they were working on a cure before I left." Stavros is back in his military stance.

Arthur shakes his head. "If your dome had the cure for the population crisis, why would they have gone after the Skyrothasian princess? Why would they not have taken the cure and made a stronger nation?"

Stavros glares at Arthur. It's a glare I've seen my fathers give each other more than once.

"Tell them, then." Arthur cocks his head to us.

"I know what I saw." Stavros nods. "Back in the day, geminae weren't treated like they are now. At least, not in Braesen. The same goes for my type. Half-Kraken, half-merman. I was taken from my Kraken mother and assigned a pod to raise me. They had me living in the livestock dome. With the cattle and sheep. There used to be a lot more land mammal domes. I worked hard and was placed on a sub. I studied diligently, and when I left the Veiled City, I had a forty in language." He turns to Arthur and Kat. "That's a really high rank."

"We know." Kat smiles. Hell, if I had a forty ranking in languages, I would remind my family all the time too.

"Right." He crosses his arms over his chest. "They did tests on me. So many tests. There weren't many hybrids, and they wanted to know what would happen if I had a podlet and she was a female. Tests I don't want to talk about. I had come up with a plan for escape, but then I was granted a position on a sub. I don't know why or how, but I'm grateful for it. So grateful. When we made our way close to the coastline, I faked my own death. A bag of blood, on a routine scouting mission, and I was away. I'm never going back."

He nods. "Over the years, I've come across other Kraken. I've made a few unlikely friends. I'm mostly kept on their good side by Kat's baking. But yes, I know some full-blood Kraken."

"And do you think you could get us in touch with someone? Someone who might know something about my sister?"

"Perhaps." Stavros takes his phone from his pocket. His fingers move quickly. He sets it on the table. "Now we wait."

Eros watches the phone, but I can't take my eyes off Stavros. The Braesen have been researching fertility without telling the other domes. They held a Kraken male and did experiments on him. That was a long time ago. What do they know that we don't?

Twenty minutes go by. The pastries are gone. I'm about to give up. I'm about to give Stavros my contact information for when—or if—this mysterious Kraken contacts him, when his phone rings.