He let the name tumble around in his brain for a second. It triggered a hazy sense of déjà vu. Slowly, the pieces started clicking. He sorted through the distant recollection of the deceased and missing who’d been cataloged on the victims list from the palace massacre. Yes, Reva Bellemuir had been one of those named. Wait a minute…
He jerked his head up. “Bellemuir? Surely she’s no relation to—”
“Yes, she is.”
Aurele’s calm pronouncement shuttled a fresh shock wave through him, and he sucked a breath through his teeth. Holy fuck. “The Duke of Atlanta is related to a murderer?”
“More than that, she’s his grandmother.”
A frustrated sound bleated from Willa, and he and Aurele turned their attention to her. “Since no one else seems ready to point it out, let me remind you that there’s no such person as a Duke of Atlanta.”
“Actually, there is, dear.”
Willa rolled her eyes. “Right. Next you’ll tell me there’s a King of Savannah.”
“No. There was only one king, and he ruled Atlantis before being murdered.” Aurele’s eyes became waterlogged. She tried valiantly to stem the tide of her tears, but Max guessed that she wouldn’t last long. Glimpsing the box of tissues resting on the far end table, he rushed to fetch the dispenser. Aurele gifted him with a wavering smile and accepted the offering. She plucked several sheets free and blotted her cheeks.
“Hold on, I thought you said my parents were murdered.” Willa’s tone held a healthy dose of suspicion.
“They were, along with the rest of the royal family and the staff on duty that day.”
“So what are you saying, that my parents worked for the king or something?”
He waited for Aurele to put his worst fears to rest, despite every instinct screaming at him that the opposite was about to occur. Because if she was about to confirm what he suspected to be true, his hope for any future with Willa was about to crumble around his feet.
“No, dear. Your mother was the Princess of Atlantis.”
And just like that, his tiny shred of hope shriveled. Jesus Christ. He’d fallen for the granddaughter of the king, the only existing heir to the throne of Atlantis. He couldn’t get further out of his league, even if he decided to date the Queen of England.
Willa laughed. “Yeah, right. That would make me—”
“Princess as well. Yes, dear, it’s true.” Aurele frowned as she seemed to consider her words. “Actually, that’s not entirely right. Since you’re the sole heir, you’re now technically the Queen.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” Willa leapt from the couch, her agitation showing. “This is all…nuts. I’m just me. Ordinary, nothing-special me.”
“You are so very wrong, my dear.” Aurele stood, her eyes shining with love and pride. “You are the only known descendant of Poseidon himself. Ordinary doesn’t belong in your vocabulary.”
Willa’s mouth fell open before she suddenly laughed again, the sound bordering on hysterical. “Good one. Last time I checked, Poseidon is only a myth.”
Aurele brushed aside a lock of Willa’s hair. “Most legends stem from reality. True, they oftentimes become twisted within the textbooks, but that doesn’t change their existence.” She tapped the tip of Willa’s nose, earning a scowl in return. “Tell me something. Why is it so hard for you to believe that you’re the descendant of Poseidon? You, more than anyone, knows that there are many fantastical things in this world that the majority of our population remains in ignorance of.”
“Yes, but I’ve seen those things firsthand. I can’t exactly deny the existence of shape-shifters, evil ghosts and all of the other weird crap I’ve encountered throughout my life.”
“Look in your heart, and you’ll know what I’m telling you is true.”
Willa’s frown remained stubbornly locked in place. “Okay, answer this for me. How the hell can I be descended from a god? I’m human.”
Max didn’t fail to notice the fiery inflection she’d loaded into the last word, or the way her gaze momentarily flickered in his direction. Obviously she wasn’t ready to accept the fact that she was anything besides one hundred percent human.
“Poseidon mated with many humans.” Aurele cleared her throat. “That, at least, is one thing the textbooks got right. The gods were quite frisky and amorous back in those days. However, all but one of the direct royal bloodlines died out over time.”
“And I’m from that line?”
“Yes. You come from the first and the strongest. Amphitrite was Poseidon’s wife, and mother of all the sea. A nymph of the highest order and regard. It is because of her that you are here today.”
Max stared at Willa, more than a little dazzled by her heritage. He’d been around his fair share of royals. As sheriff, he was their sworn servant, more or less. Enforcer of their laws and protector of their realm. But he could honestly say he’d never stood in the same room with a royal who came with as high a pedigree as Willa. The realization widened the ever-growing chasm between their statuses and filled his heart with even more doubt. The heaviness of it weighed at him.
“Wait a minute. You said this Amphitrite chick was a nymph.” Willa’s accusing tone snapped Max from his morose thoughts. She stacked her arms in front of her and glared Aurele down. “A nymph and a god doing the mattress mambo doesn’t produce a human.”
“That’s a valid point, dear. But you’re not fully human. You’re half nymph on your mother’s side.”
A strangled noise came from Willa, and Max hurried forward before she stumbled backward onto the couch. He held her against his chest, uncertain what else to do as Willa visibly struggled to digest this new facet to her existence. Her throat working with a hard swallow, she peered up at him. “Okay, go ahead and say it.”
He decided it would be better to play dumb. “Say what?”
“I told you so.” Her face crumpled.
Raising his head, he met Aurele’s distressed gaze and grimaced. “I don’t think she’s too thrilled about the less-than-human part of the story.”
Aurele rushed to Willa’s side and joined their awkward group hug. “Oh dear. This must be overwhelming for you. Perhaps we should postpone the rest of the conversation for later.”
Willa broke free of their hold, her expression going from dazed to feisty in the blink of an eye. “No. I’ve spent all these years in the dark. Not anymore.” She hooked her thumbs in her belt loops, her chin taking on that mulish slant that Max was coming to know so well. “You said my parents were murdered by this Reva person. Why?”
“Two reasons, really. Reva Bellemuir was a calculating woman. Many of the sirens are. It seems to be written into their genetic code.”
Max more than agreed with Aurele’s assessment. There wasn’t one siren he’d encountered that didn’t prove to be a huge, troublesome pain in the ass.
“What does that have to do with my parents and their death?”
“Reva wasn’t the least bit pleased when your mother chose your father—a human—over Reva’s son. Your parents’ union ruined the duchess’s shot at becoming the mother or grandmother of the future king or queen of Atlantis.”
“So she thought that granted her the right to kill my mom and dad?” A mix of pain and rage trembled in Willa’s voice.
“In the past, there were many who whispered rumors of the duchess’s spiral into madness. It’d be easy to blame her actions upon that. But I believe her motives hinged on a sort of vengeance. You see, Reva didn’t only despise your parents’ marriage. She hated the human race and those who would defend them. Because of this, her ultimate plan wasn’t just to kill your parents, but all of humankind.”