Rogue Soul (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 3) (12 page)

The goddess’ eyes hardened, but she nodded. “I promise. Do as we tell you and reap the rewards. Otherwise, everything you love will die.”

CHAPTER NINE

Amazon Basin, Present Day

“Get the hell up here, Ana! Something’s coming!”

Ana’s head snapped up at the sound of Cam’s roar. She was at the stern of the boat, trying to manage a quick sponge bath and moping over Cam’s dire revelation of an hour ago about finding a replacement. She flung the washcloth back into the basin of water and sprinted to the pilothouse.

“What’s going on?”

He leaned out, squinting up at the sky. She looked up too.

“Oh, shit,” she breathed.

“Yeah. Not normal.” Black clouds roiled low on the horizon in front of them, pushing forward across the sky like a clipper at high wind.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Storm. But it’s bringing something with it.”

A chill wind followed his words, rushing down upon them from the clouds. She shivered; it was the first time she’d been cold since entering the Amazon. The clouds darkened the sky nearly to night.

The screeching and howling of the animals faded. They’d never been silent before. She swallowed hard, then shook herself. She was the goddess of victory. A Celtic war goddess. Nothing scared her.
 

Keep telling yourself that.

“Get up here,” Cam yelled over the wind.

She scrambled up the ladder and onto the roof.
 

“Watch the forest!” He jerked his head left, indicating the side of the river with the darkest clouds.

Cold rain pinged off of the metal roof, biting into her skin.

She peered into the jungle, appalled to see the previously calm vines and trees whipping about. Raking claws of wind tore leaves from branches, scattering them into the normally calm river. Whitecaps crashed into the bow, splashing over the low guard wall that was meant to protect from such flooding.

Shallow water boat, she thought. Not meant for this kind of weather. Would they sink in the middle of the Amazon, hundreds of miles from their destination?

“What am I looking for?” she shouted, raking her wet hair off her face and peering harder into the forest. Water dripped into her eyes, blurring the jungle to shades of green and black.

“Something Celtic. From Otherworld. I don’t know. But this isn’t an Amazonian storm.”

An unnatural chill broke out over her skin, colder than either the wind or the rain could elicit. She whipped her bow off her back and an arrow from her quiver. Did the gods send something with the storm? Was that how they would get her?
 

“There!” she yelled, pointing to the forest.

Boar spies. The gods had sent fucking spies after her rather than track her progress themselves.
 

She raised her bow, sighted an arrow, and shot the ugly gray beast between the eyes. It collapsed, but she looked for more. The gods had conjured the storm to send boar spies, who couldn’t aetherwalk, ahead of them. The animals couldn’t speak, but they could report back with what they’d seen if Cernowain, god of animals, was there to read their minds.
 

“Get closer to the north shore!” she yelled.

Cam cursed and piloted the little boat through the waves toward the shore, careful not to let the broad side face the waves. He pulled as close as he could get, and she was grateful that the river was deep here.
 

Bow drawn, she searched through the trees, now only a dozen feet away. Hanging vines trailed in the water, raking eerily over her shoulders when Cam steered the boat beneath them. At this range, she’d hit anything she could see.

There, another.
The arrow flew from her bow and the boar collapsed. But how the hell was she supposed to see them all in such thick cover?

“There!” Cam roared and pointed ahead of the boat.
 

Another arrow, another downed boar. But the huge storm could carry dozens. How would she see them all and kill them before they returned to Otherworld on another storm with word of their location?

Unless…

She slung the bow over her back and searched for a vine. A perfect one was nearing the bow of the boat as they motored along the shore.

She sucked in a bracing breath, waited for the ideal moment, then took off running across the roof. The vine was thick in her hands, and she prayed that it would take her to shore. Air whistled by her as she sailed through the sky. When it swung her over the shore, she let go and landed in sticky mud.

“Ana!” Cam roared, his rage and worry carrying easily on the wind. “Get back on the damned boat! It’s too dangerous!”

She ignored him. The boars would scent her on shore and come to get a closer look. They wouldn’t be able to help themselves.
 

She yanked up her bow and nocked an arrow just before the first boar lumbered toward her. The arrow thudded between its eyes. The mud sucked her feet deep into the bank as she searched the jungle. Three more charged and she shot them in succession. Satisfaction coursed through her when they fell.
 

“Get back on the damn boat, Ana!” There was real fear in his voice now. Fear for her.

She ignored it and raced along the shore beside the boat, shooting boars as they charged out of the jungle. She counted fifteen before they stopped appearing.
 

Her arrows had felled them all, but like the demons from the other day, she hadn’t killed them. She’d just delayed their return to Otherworld. They would regenerate there, but it would take them longer than if they’d reported back as they were supposed to. At best, she’d bought them some time. How much, she couldn’t be sure. Hopefully she and Cam would be long gone from here by the time they regenerated and Cernowain could read their minds.

“Get your ass on the fucking boat!” Cam roared.
 

She glanced over her shoulder. He’d steered close to shore and looked like he was about to jump off and swing her back to safety. Worry twisted his face, evident even through the rain. Whitecaps still crashed into the boat, and vines dragged at the pilothouse.

There was no time to retrieve her arrows, which were scattered behind her. Mud sucked at her feet as she ran and leapt onto the deck, scrambling to pull herself on board.

She clambered up the ladder to the roof to resume her vigil. But the storm had veered toward normalcy. Pounding rain, but no roiling black clouds.

“They’re gone!” she screamed.
 

She thought Cam growled, and she watched anxiously as he turned the boat into another tributary like the one they’d visited the day before.
 

He pulled along shore, leapt down from the pilothouse, and tied the boat off to posts stuck into the bank presumably for that purpose.

She climbed down after him, raking the wet hair off her forehead as she hurried toward the bunkhouse to stand beneath its shelter. Rain still pounded down, a cacophony against the tin roof. The din of animals screeching and howling returned, signaling that the threat from Otherworld was gone. She rubbed her arms, wishing that cold and nerves didn’t still skitter across her skin.

The gods had already figured out she was gone. It’d only been two days. She’d been sure she’d have at least a few days more, long enough to make it out of the Amazon.

She huddled against the exterior wall of the bunkhouse and waited for Cam to finish securing the boat. He was quick and capable. Rainwater gleamed on his flexing biceps as he yanked on the final line. Satisfied, he dropped it.

Ana started when Cam whirled and stalked to her. He loomed over her and growled, “What the fuck were you thinking?”
 

“I can protect myself!”

“I know that, damn it! But it doesn’t mean I want you to have to. If any of the gods had been with the boars, they could have snatched you and aetherwalked back to Otherworld.” He shook her, his rough hands tight on her arms.

Normally cool gray eyes burned down at her, on fire with worry and anger. His lips were tight with rage, his hair plastered against his head, and he looked like he wanted to keep shaking her but never let her go. He was so handsome and so harsh that the sight of him stole her breath, a vise squeezing her lungs.

He’d been afraid for her.

“Damn you, Ana.” He crushed his mouth to hers, hot and hard, crowding her against the wall of the bunkhouse.
 

The heat and hardness of his body, such a contrast to the storm-cold air, forced a small noise through her lips. He thrust his tongue inside, releasing a groan that spoke of pleasure and pain.

Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea.
But she was unable to stop her wayward, selfish hands from running up the steel muscles of his chest. To test him. To feel him. To know the strength that pressed her into the rough wooden planks of the bunkhouse until they bit into the tender skin of her shoulders.

 
But the pain only heightened the pleasure. And the fear. He was so big. Big thighs pressing to her own, big chest pinning her to the wall, big hands gripping her waist. So much bigger that she, a goddess, became a rag doll in his hands, his to mold.

“Don’t
ever
fucking do that again,” he rasped against her lips before claiming her mouth again.

 
Hard hands traced her sides, his strength and frayed control vibrating through tensed muscles and shaking hands. The fear and anger in his kiss only heightened the aching need that pulled at her.
 

He thrust one of his big thighs between her own, lifting her easily to set her atop it and drag her against him. His cock pressed into her belly, hot and branding. It was dirty and delicious and stole every rational thought from her mind.

His big hand smoothed up her back to clutch her head, holding her steady for his mouth. His other gripped her ass. A wicked jolt streaked through her when he ground her against his thigh. It was as if he were determined to make her feel every part of him. Every part of his claim on her. Spikes of pleasure shot from her pussy through her body, leaving shivers in their wake.
 

He growled low in his throat—an actual growl—and it threw propane on the lust and fear and confusion that raged through her blood.

Cam’s heart pounded against his ribs, so hard and loud he feared it would drown out the sounds escaping from Ana’s lips. Desperate, needy sounds that he couldn’t get enough of. They spurred the same from him—rough, raw noises that sounded like those of an animal.

“Fuck,” he rasped, then gripped her ass and ground her against him, working her soft body on his thigh to coax more of those sounds from her throat.
 

She’d scared the hell out of him when she’d gotten so close to the boars. Fear for her had pushed him over the edge, broken his control where she was concerned.
 

“I want you,” he rasped. “Always have.”

More than that, he cared. He couldn’t hide from it any longer. All those years ago, she’d given him the gift—and the curse—of emotion, dragging him from the cold existence of the gods. Now, all that emotion and lust and caring that she’d dredged up in him were becoming wrapped up in her. It was stronger than anything he’d ever felt for anyone else, and it confused the hell out of him.

“I care, damn it.” The sandpaper words scraped his throat, pulled out of him by a force he couldn’t control. He never talked like this. Never
thought
like this. Except with her.

She stiffened in his arms, her hands in his hair going still.

“No.” She pushed him away, struggled to get out of his arms. She shook her head, eyes wide and wild. He stepped back, hands clenching to keep from reaching for her. “I don’t want this. I didn’t come here for this.”

“Ana.” He reached out to draw her back.

“No.” She slipped around him and backed away, shaking her head. “No. Our past is totally fucked up. And now we’re the only two who can serve in Otherworld. You won’t take my place, and I don’t blame you, but starting something again under these circumstances will lead to disaster for both of us. I can’t risk that.”