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

  Cernowain disappeared. Camulos wanted to roar his rage to the sky. Kill her to save her from a worse fate? She’d go to Otherworld to live out her days, but take her from earth to the cold nothingness of their afterworld?

  She’d awakened something in him these last days, something he couldn’t describe but he couldn’t get enough of. As he couldn’t get enough of her. And now he had no choice but to take her life from her to save her from something more terrible?

  Andrasta paced in front of the doorway to her house, wearing a path through the snow until it was nothing but mud. She shivered and pulled her woolen cloak tighter, fiddling with the bronze pin that held the top closed.

  She should go see Camulos in the clearing.

  No.

  It was too dangerous. She’d been stupid to trust him. What did she know of the goals and desires of gods? He had to have a motivation in continuing to see her. She’d thought he’d liked her. That he’d cared for her, even.

  But if what her brothers said was true, then he couldn’t possibly. She’d put herself at risk—and worse, far worse, she’d put her brothers at risk.

  She continued to pace, weighing the sheer stupidity of going to the clearing against her desire to see Camulos. Maybe he did care for her. Or maybe she was being crazy.

  With him, she’d leapt before she’d ever considered looking, just as her brothers always accused her of doing. And even though she regretted the danger she was putting her family in by dallying with a god, she couldn’t help but want to keep doing it.

  She was too brave to be cowering like this. She gripped her bow tighter and turned toward the clearing. She’d go to him and demand to know his intentions.

  She took a step off her well-beaten path, but suddenly four people stood before her.

  No. Not people. Gods. They’d appeared out of the air and were dressed nothing like Camulos had been. He’d been clothed for battle, whereas these gods, two males and two females, were draped in gold. The torcs around their necks, the sparkling brooches on their cloaks, and the weapons hanging from their belts were all made of the precious metal.

  Shock rooted her in place, her breath coming short and fast. Drawing the attention of four gods could only be bad. Her hand tightened around the smooth, comforting wood of her bow.

  “Andrasta,” the dark-haired goddess said. She was extraordinarily beautiful, with sparkling blue eyes and cream-colored skin. A red cloak finer than any Andrasta had ever seen was draped around her.

  Andrasta debated shaking her head. But they were gods. They knew exactly who she was. So she nodded and squared her shoulders, even though they could kill her before she saw it coming.

  “You have a problem,” the dark-haired goddess said.

  Indeed.

  “Camulos is going to kill you.”

  Her heart clutched. So it was most definitely true. “I know. Why are you here?”

  “To make an arrangement with you. Camulos should have killed you weeks ago, the first time he saw you. Yet he didn’t. We don’t know why, but it’s dangerous. He’s dangerous. He’s no longer obeying the rules. Otherworld exists only because of our rules. Without them, we are lost.”

  “How does this concern me?”

  “We want you to kill him.”

  Andrasta’s head snapped back. “What?”

  “His behavior is erratic and has become dangerous. He’s too powerful. We want him gone.”

  There was no way she could kill him. Nor was she willing to. “Why can’t you kill him?”

  “We are forbidden from killing other gods. You aren’t. And your skill with the bow matches his. You’re the only mortal capable of killing Camulos. When you kill him, we’ll raise you to godhood in his stead.”

  All sound, from the whistling wind to the lowing cows, faded as Andrasta swayed on her feet. Her, a goddess? No, that wasn’t possible. And not if she had to kill Camulos to become so.

  “Why?” The words strangled in her throat.

  “We must have a god of war. Merely killing him would create an imbalance. If you defeat him, you will become the goddess of victory, a war goddess.”

  “You think I’ll be weaker than he is. Easier to control.” She wasn’t stupid. This was a chess game for them and she was but a pawn.

  The goddess shrugged elegantly. “True, we’ve decided that you’ll be less trouble than he. You’re young, not yet tainted by godhood. And just think.” The goddess’ voice sweetened. “You’ll be the goddess of victory. Far greater than even the warrior you’d hoped to be.”

  She gripped her bow tighter, recalling the long walks with Camulos. His smile. His kiss. No one had ever been interested in her in such a way. She could finally prove herself as a warrior, but at the expense of Camulos’ life.

  But if she had to become a goddess to do so, she’d have to leave her brothers. A pang shot through her chest. She didn’t want to leave them. She wanted to be one of them. More than she wanted to prove herself, even.

  “You don’t have a choice in this!” the goddess yelled. “Camulos is dangerous. Eventually he will try to kill you, because he knows that not doing so is against our laws. There will be repercussions for him that he won’t want to face. Take your chance. Save yourself from him and receive godhood in exchange.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt me,” Andrasta said, certain of it. But was she? He’d threatened her back in the forest a week ago and raised his bow against her brother when he’d come searching for her. She’d known there was something more than what was on the surface between them, something darker. Had it been this fate? “No. I don’t believe it.”

  “Fine.” The goddess’ voice whipped across her skin, harsh as a blade. “Then we’ll slay your family—seven brothers, isn’t it?—if you do not do as we tell you.”

  Her stomach dropped. “What?”

  “You’ll do this.”

  The threat, and the command, snapped some of the strength back into her. She gripped her bow and said, “You want to get rid of Camulos because he’s trouble. Your threats don’t endear you to me. I could be trouble.”

  “You can’t play our games.” The goddess’ voice was harsh. She raised her hands and snow swirled, flying fast on the wind until it was dense white in front of her. Images formed on the snow, and soon her brothers appeared. They practiced at their training field, swords and pikes flying through the air.

  “What is this?” she asked, shock at the magic stealing her breath.

  “Your brothers,” the goddess said. “Look closer and you’ll see Hafgan, the god who stood to my left.”

  Andrasta squinted at the image in the snow and saw the towering form of the god standing at the edge of the field, apparently invisible to her brothers. She glanced away from the image toward where Hafgan had been standing.

  He was gone.

  “He went there?” Andrasta asked, knowing it was true even as she said it.

  “Yes. And he’ll kill one of your brothers for every hour you delay.”

  “No, he can’t—” Andrasta cried out when she saw Hafgan throw a short spear at Marrek. The blade pierced Marrek’s side and he fell, his blood soaking into the snow. “Stop!”

  “When you’ve done what we’ve requested,” the goddess said. “Do it, or he’ll throw another spear.”

  Andrasta’s eyes raced over the image in the snow. Bradan fell to Marrek’s side, trying to stanch the bleeding, while the rest of her brothers surrounded them, searching the practice field for the threat.

  “They’ll never see him coming,” the goddess said. “You have an hour before he throws the spear again.”

  A sob tore free of Andrasta’s throat. “Marrek must live!”

  “He will. Perhaps. As long as Hafgan doesn’t throw another spear.”

  Andrasta felt the sting of tears freezing on her cheeks as she watched Bradan try to comfort Marrek and keep his life’s blood from flowing out.

  “Fine.” The words were ragged. She met the goddess’ eyes. “Promise that they will li
ve if I do this.”

  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 n
ever 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.