Page 81 of Heart of the Deep

Rhea turned her strange eyes back toward Larkin. “Randall said you were the best shot.”

There were other rangers — full-grown men, older than her by years — who were still upset about that, but, thanks to the encouragement of her family, she’d never let them make her feel ashamed. “I am.”

“Did your males teach you?”

“My parents both did — and Randall, too — but it just kind of came naturally to me. It wasn’t long before I surpassed my brother, though.” Larkin grinned. “You should have seen his face the first time I hit three targets dead-center in a row, beating him and his friends. I was only seven.”

“I’m seven!” Melaina announced.

“Melaina,” Rhea warned.

Macy laughed as she chewed on a piece of bitterstock. “Melaina is a free spirit, like Jax.”

“I am sorry if that’s true, Rhea,” Jax said with a smile, “because if it is, she will only push harder as you set firmer boundaries.”

Rhea sighed and looked at her daughter. There was worry in her eyes, but they softened as though with understanding. “I know this. I just…”

“It’s hard to let them go,” Larkin said. “My dad was —is—protective of me. No matter how old I get, or how often I prove myself, I don’t think that will ever change.”

“It is true,” Rhea agreed.

“Aymee is a good shot, too,” Melaina said as Larkin took a bite of winefruit. “She shot Randall.”

Larkin inhaled and nearly choked. She coughed, brows furrowed, looking at the young kraken girl. “What?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Aymee covered her mouth with her hand, cheeks turning red.

“No. He never said anything. I mean, I knew that he was shot twice, once by Cyrus, but… You?”

“It was an accident.” Aymee swallowed the food in her mouth and lowered her hand. “It was the first time Randall saw Arkon, and Cyrus turned it into a fistfight on the beach. I picked up a gun to try to get them to stop, and when Cyrus hit me…the gun went off. I never meant to shoot him.”

The anger flaring inside Larkin wasn’t directed toward Aymee; it was reserved entirely for Cyrus Taylor. There was no reason to doubt Aymee’s story; why would Randall be on such friendly terms if the shooting had been anything other than an accident? And it fit well with Randall’s cryptic words about having received his wounds from Cyrus.

He only pulled the trigger once, but yeah. He did this.

“I’m glad you didn’t kill him,” Larkin said, offering Aymee a smile.

Aymee’s shoulders sagged in relief. She returned the smile. “Me, too.”

Sarina pressed a hand to her stomach. “Daddy, I don’t feel good.”

Jax leaned down beside her, placing his palm on her back. “What’s wrong, Sarina?”

“My tummy hurts.”

“She looks pale, Jax,” Macy said, frowning.

Jax’s brow lowered. “Maybe she has eaten too—”

Jace suddenly leaned over Arkon’s arm and vomited. Arkon jerked back, though securely kept hold of Jace, his skin flashing yellow.

Aymee’s eyes widened, and she leapt up, plate falling out of her lap as she hurried to Arkon’s side. A second later, Sarina dropped to the floor, arms folded over her middle, and heaved, emptying her stomach.

“Sarina!” Macy cried, rushing toward her daughter.

Jax hesitated in reaching for the child, who looked so tiny and meek before him, as though fearful he’d make it worse.

“My stomach hurts, too,” Melaina said, features drawn.

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