Children of Poseidon: Rann by Annalisa Carr Page B

hairstyle with shaking fingers.
    No sound came from the rest of the house. A luxurious cream carpet covered the floor, heavy curtains framed the windows, and the opulent furniture screamed obvious wealth. The atmosphere gave Jewel a chill. She thought maybe her imagination was working overtime, but it seemed to her the air trembled with malevolence. She’d never been comfortable here, but she didn’t recall the ambience ever being this bad.
    The door opened, but only the maid came through it, carrying a tray with a teapot and cups. She placed it on the table. “Madame Vargas will be with you shortly.” She kept her head lowered, sidling out of the room without looking at Jewel.
    Jewel’s lungs tightened. She forced herself to inhale slowly. She’d always had difficulty breathing in her mother’s presence. For a while, they thought she might be asthmatic, and that had made her mother even shorter with her, as though it was a personal affront that any daughter of hers should have less than perfect health. Taking a deep breath, she exhaled as Kara walked into the room, dressed in a gray suit and heels. Jewel got to her feet, glad she hadn’t let herself sink into the comfortable depths of the sofa.
    “Mother, how nice to see you after all these years.” No one could say her manners weren’t perfect.
    Kara frowned. “Do sit down, Jewel.” She perched neatly on the opposite sofa. “Tea?”
    Jewel sat down without answering. Kara had already picked the pot up, her attention on the teacups. She looked no older than the last time Jewel had seen her. Another chill shivered through her as she remembered her mother asking if anyone requested Jewel’s death in reparation for a non-existent crime. She was almost certain she’d seen a flicker of disappointment in her mother’s eyes when no one replied.
    Kara gave the impression of being a large woman, mostly through attitude and the aura of authority that followed her. In reality, she had a similar build to Jewel, slender and small-boned. Her hair was in the same perfect chignon, the same dark red shade it had been nine years ago. The same arctic blue eyes skimmed over Jewel, leaving the same sense of inadequacy in their wake.
    “What have you done with your hair?” Kara’s voice held distaste.
    Once, Jewel would have cringed under it. To her surprise, the pettiness didn’t bother her. “I had it cut. Yesterday. Do you like it?”
    Kara eyed her for a moment, shook her head, and passed her a teacup.
    Jewel put it down on the table without tasting it. “How have you been?” She squirmed under her mother’s critical stare but forced herself to break the uncomfortable silence.
    “Well,” Kara replied. “And have you enjoyed life on your island?” Her tone suggested that Jewel had spent the last nine years at a permanent party.
    “Immensely.” Jewel struggled to keep the defiance out of her voice. She didn’t have to rise to the snide note in Kara’s voice.
    “I’m surprised you left it,” Kara said, sounding as though she wished her daughter had stayed there.
    Jewel sighed inwardly. “There was something I wanted to ask you.”
    “Yes?”
    “Do you know anything about seawitches?”
    “Seawitches?”
    “We have a sick one. We brought her to London with us. We don’t know what to do for her.” Jewel wondered if she’d told her mother too much, but it couldn’t matter, the woman had never paid attention to anything she said anyway. And if she did know something, it could only help the seawitch.
    Kara’s brows rose. “I thought they were extinct, but . . .” Her voice trailed off as the door opened. Her cold reserved features suddenly sprang to life, as though she was powerless to control her response.
    Jewel followed her gaze. A man had stepped into the room. He was tall, he was handsome, and he was dark in more than a visual sense. Power rolled off him, and even Jewel, whose talents didn’t include awareness of auras, saw the halo of darkness