Pleasure of a Dark Prince (22 page)

“Forget it, MacRieve.”

“You’ll blindly ignore that you’re in danger?”

“Because
you
say so? Oh wait, how did you put it in the meeting? We’re in danger because we’re in the Amazon. Wow, that specific? Really, I better protect myself from…
the rascally Amazon
.”

“Lousha, I slew two demon assassins just today in Iquitos—they had their swords raised in an alley you were about to sprint by.” He’d nigh missed this boat because of all the beheading he’d had to do in town.

“Then all the better that I’m on the river.”

He gave a harsh laugh. “No’ quite. You see, I’ll be forcibly removing you from the vessel at the earliest opportunity.”

“What?”
Visibly making an effort to calm herself, she said, “MacRieve, let’s be reasonable about this. What threat on board has you acting like this?”

“For one, there’s Dr. Clarence Ogilvie Schecter—”

She raised a hand to stop him. “And how would you know his middle name?”

When he hiked his shoulders, her face lit with an expression of dawning realization. “You’ve got to be kidding me. You snooped through their things?”

He’d do that and more to keep her safe. “Aye, while they were upstairs drinking beers.” Turning to the bed inside, he dropped his body and the case atop it. “I dinna want you to feel that you were being singled out for my invasions of privacy.” At her glare, he added, “I’m a Lykae—if I get curious, I investigate. It’s what we do. So anyway, ole Schecter told us he’s no’ studying megafauna?”

“He is?”

“Oh, aye. He’s hunting a goddamned megacaiman.”

“What is that, and what does it have to do with me?”

“Schecter plans to
trap
a four-ton caiman with this rickety old bark—no’ merely to document one. He’s got that ‘sonic lure’—patent bluidy pending—and enough tranquilizer to make even your glowing sister happy.”

“Now, that
is
good to know,” she said, tapping her chin. “But it’s still not enough to worry me.”

“Ah, but what about Rossiter? He says he’s hunting for cures, but he’s only interested in one—for Fatal Insomnia Syndrome.”

“What is that?”

“From what I could tell from his papers, it’s an extremely rare genetic disorder. Basically, you lose the ability to sleep. You stay awake until you eventually die.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Doc Rossiter’s studying it—because he’s dying from it. So he’s out here with nothing to lose. He’s completely rogue, searching for some rare orchid he believes will hold the cure for the disease.”

“First of all, isn’t it always an orchid? And second of all—so?”

“So what do you think he’d do if he discovered immortality existed? If he determined that we can potentially live forever—or that I could possibly
make
him immortal?” Not that Garreth ever would. Of all the species in the Lore, the Lykae turned others the least—because of the devastating side-effects.

“And what about Damiãno?”

“He’s got doctored medical records. Definitely no’ human.”

“Then what is he?”

“Maybe a shifter or warlock? Or a demon? If he’s into shamanism, he could be a bluidy witch doctor for all we know.”

“Do you think he lied about what he’s here for?”

“Doona know what his real aim is—but if it’s truly to stop the oil companies, then we’re already being followed. They’ve got mercenaries cruising up and down the river, scanning CBs and sat-phones. A basin-wide intelligence net. Any uncontacted tribe would cost them
billions
. No one will be reporting a sighting,” he said. “Lousha, those three all know this is dodgy. It’s why they’re on a shite boat like this, hiring a drunk captain who’s ruled by the dollar. So unless you give me a damn good reason to allow you to stay aboard—”

“
Allow
me?”

“Aye. Second lesson about the Amazon? Might makes right out here.”

“I have to be on
this
ship. This one in particular.” At his unbending look, she said, “This isn’t about me and you. This is much, much bigger. End of the world big.”

“Then tell me,” MacRieve said, “and I’ll help you.”

Seeing no way around it, she decided to reveal
some
. “Fine, let’s make a deal. You keep my cover, and no more ordering me to strip—”

“Which you loved and were aroused by.”

“Do you want to know or not?”

He held up his palms. “Agreed and agreed.”

“And we won’t be having sex.”

“
Dis
agreed. You’re acting like you have some bargaining power—I can force you from this ship.”

“Don’t put my back up against the wall, MacRieve. I might strive to be reasonable, but you have no idea what I’m capable of when cornered.”

“Ah, but what are you capable of without drawing human attention? Tomorrow morning, we’re gone.”

“Very well! I’ll tell you,” she said, beginning to pace yet again. “You’ve met Nïx, I’m sure.”

“Oh, when I was locked in the Valkyrie dungeon? After you trapped me?”

She pursed her lips.

“Go on, then.”

“She contacted me just a day ago, told me the world was on the verge of apocalypse. I was to find Rio Labyrinto. The river would hold the answer to our salvation. And before you ask, I don’t know much more. Nïx won’t divvy the details. You don’t know what she’s like.”

“I doona? She would no’ tell me why I had to be in Iquitos at precisely three. All she’d say is ‘Do you want to see your mate or no’, werewolf?’”

“That’s how you got here so fast!”
Rotter!
“No, she wouldn’t.”

“We both know she would and did.”

Nïx had
planned
for Lucia and MacRieve to meet. The soothsayer had done him a favor. Why? Nïx might be mad, but she could also be calculating.

A niggling suspicion had been building in Lucia over the last few months. The three-thousand-year-old soothsayer had begun telling people she would soon be a goddess. And that wasn’t just an insane musing—it was actually a possibility.

Nïx had been born of gods, and she’d attained the requisite age—ancient. But most importantly, she was collecting lifelong loyalties, which doubled as worship.

If gods derived strength from the number of worshippers they acquired, then Nïx was growing more and more powerful. Here was Garreth MacRieve, another being who owed Nïx a favor, who’d be thanking her daily for the rest of his immortal life for her help. Like a prayer. Humans might thank God—MacRieve would thank Nïx.

Nucking Futs Nïx a goddess? Lucia wondered if she’d be a benevolent one.

“Doona be angry with the soothsayer,” he said. “If she had no’ helped me, I would’ve eventually caught you anyway.”

“You sound confident. Makes me wonder why you hadn’t before.”

“I had an ace in my pocket that I had no’ yet played.” Before she could question him about his
ace
, he asked, “So did Nïx happen to give you any directions to Rio Labyrinto?”

Lucia shook her head. “She said I’d have everything I needed aboard this ship.”

“That so?” he replied thoughtfully. “Then she must’ve meant that you’d need me.”

“Why on earth?”

“ ’Cause I’ve been there, lass.”

TWENTY-FOUR

“But no one comes out of Rio Labyrinto alive,” Lucia said.

Garreth lifted his chin. “No one—but me.”

Her eyes went wide. “Then tell me about the river! Where is it?”

“First, you tell me what else you know about the apocalypse. You ken you will no’ get a word from me otherwise.” That wasn’t true. If she ever used her wiles on him, he’d likely be putty in her hands.

She paced, worrying her plump bottom lip—the one he wanted to take between his own teeth to nibble on. After exhaling a breath, she asked, “Have you heard of the god…
Crom Cruach
?”

He had. But the way she’d uttered, or
barely
uttered, the god’s name with a flash of sorrow in her eyes made his hackles rise. “Maybe some scattered tales,” he lied. “Canna remember.”

She cast him an expression that said she didn’t know whether to believe him.

“Gods are no’ really my area of interest. Rugby? Now
that
I pay attention to.”

After a hesitation, she said, “He’s evil to the bone. His primary power is to make people feel a mad need to sacrifice whoever they love. Only now, that need will be contagious—the lust to slaughter in Cruach’s name—passing from person to person. In the past, he’s been jailed in a lair, but with each Accession, he grows powerful enough to break from his prison. Every five hundred years someone has to send him back there. Nïx dispatched me to do this.”

After Lucia’s explanation, he sensed that she knew far more than what she was telling him.

And that she might be about to snap.
Let the information unfold.
“With all the creatures in the Lore that owe the soothsayer, she chose you for this?” He was impressed, and didn’t bother hiding it.

“Yes, me.” She tucked her still damp hair behind her pointed ear. “Nïx told me there might be a way to kill him. To finally end the cycle.”

“A
way
?”

“A weapon. Called a dieumort. It’s a—”

“God killer. I’ve heard of them. And she thinks one’s on Rio Labyrinto?”

Lucia nodded. “That’s what she said. Now, I’ve told you my part—tell me about the river. How did you find it?”

“Purely by accident. I’d been chasing game along the riverside, and I saw it disappear right before my eyes. But I could still
scent
it. I followed my nose straight through the portal.”

“And? Tell me more!”

“Also known as the River of Doom and the River of Doors, it’s a watery maze of channels and cutouts.” He paused for effect. “And it’s rumored to be the gateway to El Dorado.”

“El Dorado?” Lucia’s eyes went wide. “The Lost City of Gold?” Maybe the dieumort
was
the golden arrow of her dreams? “Where? Where is it?” Lucia had already been reeling from the fact that MacRieve knew where Rio Labyrinto was—
everything you need will be on that boat
—and now this?

El-freaking-Dorado.

“As though I’d reveal the location to you?” MacRieve scoffed. “I think no’. I like you dependent on me and my good will.”

Apparently she
wouldn’t
be taking her bow back from MacRieve and ditching him. “I told you the nature of the apocalypse.”

In answer, he gave her a look as if he knew she was holding back.

“Don’t you understand? It’s critical for me to find a way to destroy Cruach!”

“So if I allow you to stay on the boat, you’re at risk from a thousand different perils, and if I take you from here, you’re still in danger from an apocalypse?”

“Pretty much.”

He exhaled wearily. “Verra well, we’ll stay. But we’re going to establish some guidelines for our time aboard this ship.”

“In other words, you intend to give me rules
to obey
? MacRieve, just tell me where it is—I can do this on my own.”

“Never.”

“The full moon’s coming! Have you thought about that, werewolf? It’s only ten days away!”

“You know the dates as well as I do, then?”

“You won’t be able to control yourself. You’ll attack me. I know what your kind does.”

“I’d never put you in harm’s way. As long as I’m wearing this”—he pointed to the silver cuff on his arm—“I will no’ lose control of myself.”

“What does that do?” She eyed it suspiciously. “Where’d you get it?”

“The… witches.” He seemed to have just stifled a shudder. “The inscription on the cuff makes it so that I will no’ change involuntarily.”

“I thought you told me you’d never ally with the witches.”

“My cousin has since married one, and I approached them about this. I did it
for you
.”

Against her will, she felt herself softening. She knew what that must have cost him. “How long have you had it?”

“About ten months. Why?”

“How’d you stay away from me during the first two full moons?”

“I figured out a way,” he said with a shrug.

“Did you… hurt yourself?”

“Would you care?”

“I’m not unfeeling, MacRieve.”

“I figured it out. That’s all you need to know.”

By using other women?
Lucia could just imagine his clan bringing females to satisfy him. She didn’t even want to contemplate why the thought burned her, like acid seething on tender skin. “Are you sure that cuff will keep you from going all… wolfy?”

He raised a brow. “It’s worked for the better part of a year.” When she still looked doubtful, he added, “They put a House of Witches guarantee on it.”

Then it
would
work.

“
Wolfy
, is it? And what do you know about my turning?”

“I asked around when I figured out I was your… mate.”

He stood, crossing to her. “Well, let’s hear it.”

“Basically, you’ll lose your mind, turning animalistic, hunting me down until you claim me repeatedly, biting my neck and marking me as your possession. Nothing will stop you—no cage can hold you. Did I miss anything?”