Rogue Soul (The Mythean Arcana Series Book 3) Read online

  He shrugged. “Some local Mytheans know I occasionally carry valuables on board. Jaguars who want a snack.”

  “Is that—is that a joke?” He was a bigger predator than any jaguar.

  “Don’t worry. Not likely for anything to bother us.” He yanked his tattered t-shirt over his head and turned to walk toward the back of the boat.

  She swallowed hard as muscles on his back flexed before her eyes, shifting and rippling beneath the skin. She could make out a scattering of freckles on his shoulders. She wanted to press her lips to each one until she’d accounted for them all. He looked exotic against the lushness of the jungle, his fair skin and red hair a tribute to his Celtic origins. Though those features would be more suited to the misty mountains and rugged hills of their homeland, his feral nature made him fit in out here in the jungle, even as his paleness made him stand out.

  She couldn’t see the front of him, but she could tell without a doubt that his hands went to the opening of his pants, his triceps flexing enough to draw her eye.

  “Keep watch on the jungle, Andrasta, or you’ll get an eyeful. And who knows what might sneak up.”

  Oh. She spun on her heel and faced the trees. Though she wanted to snap something at him about her ability to keep all unwanted visitors away, the idea of him stripping off his pants had ensnared her imagination.

  Something soft thudded to the deck, and the quiet hum of a small motor flicked to life. Her brain fogged with images. She had to invent them since she’d never seen him naked, but she was willing to put some creative energy toward the endeavor.

  The sound of water droplets pattering on wood and the river’s surface echoed in her ears. She tried to focus on the dense greenery in front of her, but no matter how hard she squinted into the forest, she couldn’t ignore the images of him flashing through her mind.

  “Wouldn’t you prefer an indoor shower?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Moody bastard. Sometimes it felt like talking to a wall. But the shortness of his tone did nothing to cool the heat rushing across her skin and through her veins, a heat that coiled between her legs to form a delicious and obnoxious tension.

  Damn earth and all its emotions. They were what she’d come here for, but it was annoying to find that they didn’t always do what she wanted them to.

  Drip, drip, drip. The sound of the outdoor shower wove around her mind like fog, curling tendrils that pulled her head around to peek over her shoulder. She really had no control over it. Truly, anyone would look, so how could she be blamed?

  Her breath caught.

  She never should have looked.

  But now that she had, all the power on earth couldn’t drag her gaze away from the sight of a naked Cam standing with his back to her, water sluicing over the defined and flexing muscles of his shoulders to glide over the most spectacular ass and heavy thighs she’d ever seen.

  He balanced on a beam that protruded from the side of the boat back out over the water at the stern. A shower contraption powered by a generator poured water over him and the beam, with the excess falling into the river. Clever. But the balancing made the muscles of his legs bulge and flex. She swallowed. Licked her lips.

  Oh, hell. She was in for it.

  The back of Cam’s neck prickled as he scrubbed the soap from his hair. He could fool himself into thinking it was from the cool water pumped through his shower by the generator, a luxury that he’d installed when he’d brought the boat south.

  But no.

  He’d bet anything that the prickle came from Andrasta’s gaze. Fuck. The feel of her eyes—the mere idea that she looked at him—made his cock begin to harden, stiffening and lengthening as he balanced on the sawed-off beam that had once supported the paddle wheel. There was no room for a shower in the bunkhouse, and the idea of installing the plumbing for one was ridiculous.

  So the shower was outside. Not a problem when he was alone, as he usually was. It wasn’t hard to find an empty patch of river and scrub up quickly. But now, with Andrasta on the boat, the shower had taken on a whole new meaning.

  He squeezed his eyes shut. He’d never minded a woman’s eyes on him before. But her eyes, they were different. Her gaze did something to him. Something more. It always had, even though he’d never fully understood why.

  He soaped his chest, then moved his rough hand down, stroking over his tensed abs until he reached the steel length of his cock. He stroked himself under the pretense of washing, but when his hand lingered too long, he knew it was a lie.

  She wanted to watch? The idea shot a bolt of lust through him. He gripped his shaft, the soap suds easing the way for his too-hard hand. He imagined it was her fist and pumped it up and down his cock, restraining his hips from moving.

  He hadn’t planned this when he’d decided to shower. But now that he was here, and she was here, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. They’d been denied more all those years ago, and there was no way that they could have it now, but there was no stopping this.

  The pleasure streaked too strongly through him, spiking when a soft exclamation sounded from behind him. “Oh.”

  His hand tightened and he gritted his teeth. Pleasure surged, enough that it broke his haze and snapped him back to reality. He was a second from coming.

  Too far. He’d gone too far, standing here with Andrasta’s eyes on him. His fist released his cock as a crashing sound echoed from the jungle.

  “What the hell?” Andrasta cried.

  He spun to see her facing the jungle, her bow drawn and pointed in the direction of the oncoming noise. Cam stepped back on to the boat and yanked on his pants, wincing as the zipper hit his erection.

  Fucking idiot.

  “Oy, mate, we found it.” The rough voice echoed from the jungle just before the enormous demon broke through the trees and onto the shore. Another demon burst from the forest behind him. Both were massive, with inhuman faces and sawed-off horns.

  “I’ve got this,” Cam growled, and reached for his sword. He sure as hell wished he had his old bow right now. Bastard Cotra demons always thought he was transporting some kind of treasure. The fact that he sometimes did was irrelevant, because they were never going to get it.

  “No.” Andrasta’s voice had a blade of its own. “It’s mine.”

  Within seconds, an arrow protruded from the skull of each demon. They collapsed to the muddy ground with a thud that made the jungle animals temporarily cease howling and screeching.

  “What the hell? I said I had it,” he said.

  “No, it was my job to watch the shore. They were my responsibility.” She turned to face him. Something hot and determined burned in her eyes.

  He’d seen a shadow of it when he’d met her so many years ago. The desire to prove herself. To do the job she was assigned better than anyone had ever done it before. It was admirable at a time when he didn’t want to admire her.

  She was a goddess stuck in Otherworld, and he didn’t believe there was a hope of her getting out. He was a demigod stuck on earth. There was no way they had a chance and pursuing more would only end in misery.

  He shrugged. “Fine. They’re back in the hell they came from. It’ll be a while before they can bother me again.”

  As a Mythean, he’d always appreciated knowing that all souls are immortal. Upon their deaths, mortals would go to whatever afterlife they believed in and deserved. Belief was like a window that showed them the road they needed to take to their afterworld. Atheists were a mystery, but they ended up somewhere as well because it took some serious effort to snuff out the energy of a soul. Mytheans, the creatures of myth made real by mortal belief, were aware of the immortality of their souls.

  Cam watched the bodies of the demons begin to steam. Within minutes, their earthly forms would sublimate and their souls would return to whatever hell they were from. Eventually they might get out again and come after him, because some Mytheans could cross from afterworlds to earth without death. If they did, he’d deal with them then.r />
  “Where are they from?” Andrasta asked.

  “One of the minor hells. Don’t know the name. But they like shiny things, and I occasionally carry gold. They’re not too smart, but they can recognize the sound of my engine if they’re nearby. Good shots with the arrows, by the way.”

  “Obviously.”

  The compliment seemed to insult her, like it was beyond obvious that she’d be a good shot and to say so minimized it somehow. But then, he supposed it was obvious that she was an excellent shot. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place.

  “Enjoy your shower?” she asked, an evil grin on her face.

  “Enjoy watching?”

  Her grin widened, but she turned away and hopped off the boat. He watched her retrieve her arrows, telling himself to take his stupid fucking eyes off of her. Eventually he did, and returned to the shower to snap off the water.

  Hell, what had he been thinking, jerking off in front of her? He never lost his mind like that. The Amazon required constant vigilance, but as soon as he was around her, any brains he had disappeared. It had been like that when he’d first met her, and apparently nothing had changed. Another reason to stay the hell away from her.

  “Want something to eat?” he asked. As much as he wanted to chuck her off the boat, it wasn’t an option. And he didn’t want to starve her. She didn’t need to eat as often as a mortal, but she still required sustenance.

  “Sure.” She was cleaning the demon blood off her arrows and repacking her quiver. The way she stroked the wood as she removed the blood spoke of how much she cared for her weapons and reminded him how much he missed his bow. He shook his head and turned toward the galley.

  Quickly he threw together two sandwiches and handed one to her. He ate while untying the lines and casting off. He popped the last bit in his mouth, then climbed up to the pilothouse. It’d be best to get to Havre before nightfall.

  “Need any help?” Andrasta called.

  His gaze raked across the shore, a green monster encroaching from both sides, unknown dangers lurking within. “Keep an eye on the jungle in case there are more demons.”

  He’d used the little dock he’d built in this tributary too often. This was the second time they’d found him here. Too many times for it to be coincidence.

  “Sure thing.” She started to climb the ladder to the pilothouse.

  “You can do it from the hammock in the bow.”

  “I like the roof.”

  He sighed. “Fine.”

  She hopped lithely onto the flat roof behind him and paced back and forth. By the time they’d rejoined the main river and were headed toward Havre again, she’d leaned with her back against the wall of the pilothouse, presumably so that she could look out over the stern while he watched over the bow.

  It put her so close to him that her scent wrapped around him. She hadn’t showered, and yet she still smelled nice? He scowled.

  “Anything interesting going on in Havre? Will we be there for a bit?” she asked.

  “Keep an eye out on the shore.”

  “I am. I can talk at the same time, you know. So, back to Havre. Is there a bar? Lots of people?” The hope in her voice was palpable.

  “I thought you were looking to escape Otherworld, not find a party.”

  “That’s why I want to escape Otherworld. It’s awful there.”

  “You should be more worried about the gods finding you.”

  “I am. But do you have any idea what it’s like to be out of that place? I can’t help it. I’ve been trapped forever. Alone. There’s no happiness, no friendship, no love, no sex. If I can’t get out, and I get dragged back to Otherworld and chained on Blackmoor, then this is all the time I’ll have had on earth. I can’t help myself. I want to enjoy it.” She emphasized enjoy, and he wondered how exactly she planned to go about that. If it meant what he thought it did.

  Something in his chest twinged. He knew how she felt, even if it was stupidly dangerous.

  “You remember what it’s like, don’t you?” she asked.

  He shrugged.

  “You do. You’re nothing like the other gods. They don’t feel anything, so they don’t care what it’s like. But you know it’s awful. Perfectly perfect and perfectly awful. There’s no feeling, no emotion, nothing. No excitement, joy, anger, lust. Just duty and responsibility to a nearly dead religion. No one feels anything, so no one cares for anyone else. But I still feel, and it’s the loneliest place in the universe. I’m like a ghost there, and it just feels wrong. It’s been two thousand years, and it’s like I’m wasting away. I can’t take it anymore.” Heaving breaths escaped her.

  His jaw clenched and he realized he was gripping the wheel too tightly. But she was right. Something had been wrong in Otherworld, and he hadn’t realized it until he’d met her. Had they never met, he’d probably have turned to living stone like the rest of the gods. As it was, Ana was trapped there, and she was the farthest thing from stone. It must have been suffocatingly lonely for her. Guilt stabbed him like a sword of ice.

  He’d done the best he could by her back then, but he never should have spent so much time watching her in that forest. His inability to resist her had brought her to the attention of the gods. He was directly responsible for the terrible years she’d spent there. It didn’t matter that he’d been trying to do right by her. He’d still left her in misery in Otherworld.

  “But your brothers are there. You have family.” He knew he was grasping at straws.

  A bitter laugh escaped her. “I wish. They’re shadows of their former selves. Automatons. Even Marrek, my favorite brother, hardly recognizes me. It just reminds me of what I’ve lost.”

  Shit. She wanted to get out, and he understood that. But escape was nearly impossible. Maybe that’s why she wasn’t as worried about the gods. She didn’t truly believe she would escape, so she wanted to enjoy the attempt.

  He pushed empathy aside in favor of practicality. “You shouldn’t go into the bar, not if you don’t want to leave a trail that the gods could follow. Your glow is unmistakable.”

  The glow that emitted from a god’s skin was modest, unnoticeable to mortals. But Mytheans could pick it out, and they would remember she’d been there if anyone asked about the Celtic god making her way downriver. He’d been grateful to lose his when he’d left Otherworld. It made blending in easier.

  “No, it’s already fading. Look.” A slim arm appeared at his side, stuck out over the half-wall.

  He looked down at it, slender but strong. She was right. The glow had begun to fade. He stopped his eyes from following her arm back to the rest of her.

  “I’ve been here nearly a full day. The longer I stay, the more it fades. I think it’s because I’m separated from Otherworld’s energy. It’ll be fine, really.” Her voice vibrated with excitement.

  “It’s your fate. Go to the bar. I’m not responsible for you. Like I said, you’re just tagging along. One hint of the other gods on our tail and I’ll drop you.” But guilt tugged at him. Did he even mean that anymore?

  Ana eyed the taut muscles of Cam’s neck as his fists clenched on the steering wheel. She’d annoyed him. She knew that her excitement sometimes did that to people, but it only really bothered her with Cam.

  “Anyway,” she said, hoping to keep the subject light and unable to keep her enthusiasm tamped down. “Earth is amazing in comparison. I feel like a different person. Like my body is vibrating with all the emotion and life here on earth. Like I’m not alone anymore. I want to experience it all, and I don’t want to wait.”

  “Haven’t you come to earth before now?”

  “Yes. But usually for only a few hours to visit my friend Esha. I’d stay longer, but then I’d risk the gods knowing I’ve left. We go out in Edinburgh or hang out at her place. This is the longest I’ve been on earth since I was mortal, and I’ve never been to the Amazon. I wouldn’t mind meeting some South American men.” She grinned.

  His head whipped around, and he pinned
her with an iron stare.

  Her grin slipped away and she squeaked, “What?”

  Though his gray eyes darkened with heat, he didn’t say anything, just turned back to the wheel.

  Huh. He was attracted to her. But jealous also? She shivered. Did he still feel that little twinge of something from the past, like she did? No. The memories of their time together were nothing but dust—bad moments from when her life had gone off the tracks. She’d been wrong.

  How could he possibly still be interested in her? She’d blackmailed him into helping her escape Otherworld. Not to mention the arrows she’d put through his chest before she’d become a god. She’d been desperate both times, and he’d been the one to get her out of trouble. He’d also been the one who’d gotten her in trouble. So perhaps they were even.

  But that thing with the shower… Her hands tightened on the top of the wooden half-wall as several key parts of her heated at the memory. He really had been doing what she’d thought. She shivered again.

  Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. She was grateful the demons had distracted her. Of course she was.

  Because the man had secrets. Secrets that had screwed up her life and might screw it up again. She barely knew anything about him—past life or present—and what she did know indicated he was trouble. And she was trouble when she was around him. Together, they were bad news. He’d gotten her stuck in the very place she was trying to escape.

  She’d come to earth for a life. For love and adventure and excitement. To be with people who made her happy and pushed out the darkness of the past two thousand years. Not for something complicated that was more than two thousand years in the making. Not for something that had ruined her life last time she’d been on earth.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cam heaved a sigh of relief when the little steamboat finally pulled up to the wharf at Havre around dusk. Night animals screeched and howled as darkness descended on the jungle.

  Dim yellow lamps shed a sickly glow on the brown river and docks. The jumble of wooden buildings that made up Havre crowded against the wharf and were lit only slightly better, which was fortunate as too good a view of Havre would put one off their visit.