Pleasure of a Dark Prince (32 page)

Garreth watched as Lucia ducked from Damiãno with uncanny speed, kicking out at the man’s knee. She’d bought a heartbeat’s time, scrambling away to another deck as Damiãno limped after her.

Knowing she was safe for a moment, Garreth dug in, swimming even harder. Yet he could eke out no lead on whatever was pursuing him. Had to be a caiman, but his mind struggled to wrap around the size of it.

He felt the motion of water behind him as it propelled itself forward, gaining. And without Lucia’s arrows whizzing past him in the air, more of the caimans were circling.

Almost to the boat!
So close…
Just then, the caiman began rising, sending a sharp wave of water fanning out, briefly lifting Garreth. How big was the fucking thing? When it breached the surface, Garreth felt its foul breath spraying water over his head and nape like a sprinkler.

Doona look back… doona look back.
He could hear its ancient bones grinding and clicking as its jaws opened wide.

Garreth dove, dropping like a stone. When he reached the river bottom, he kicked against it with all his might and went hurtling to the surface, leaping for the boat. He landed on the platform, then sprang for the main deck just as teeth slammed down on the platform, biting out the middle.

With angry, almost
sentient
eyes, the caiman sank, disappearing into the black once more.

At once, Garreth lunged to his feet. “Lousha!” The storm boiled, lightning streaking the sky, thunder so loud it pained his ears.

“MacRieve?”
She ran for him on the stern deck.

“Where’s Damiãno?”

“I don’t know—I lost him for a second.” Twisting around, eyes wary, she strapped her bow across her body. “What is going on? And why did you get
in
the water?”

“Lousha, the
Barão
. It’s a ghost ship.”

“What?”

“Everyone on board has been killed. Hacked to pieces. I thought it was Charlie at first, until I saw Damiãno.” Garreth grabbed her forearms. “I want you out of here!” The ship hurled up once more. “Goddamnit, why are those caimans attacking?”

“Schecter’s lure. It worked! But I can’t get to the front—”

“The creatures protect the Labyrinto,” Damiãno intoned from where he’d crouched directly above them. “As will I.”

The shifter leapt down with the machete, snagging Lucia by her neck, pressing the blade against her throat. “You’re not to enter the Labyrinth.”

Lucia dared a glance up at the male. His green eyes glowed with menace.

“Let her go!”
MacRieve yelled. “Fight me!”

“You were never supposed to get this close. The tomb is forbidden to outsiders.”

“You’re the
guardião
?” Lucia demanded. The guardian Nïx had warned of.

Damiãno seemed unhearing. “You don’t know what evil sleeps in the Labyrinth. The Gilded One will rise.”

Her mind raced. The Gilded One? El Dorado
was
a man! An evil man?

“We’re no’ here to wake any evil!” MacRieve snapped.

Damiãno shook his head hard. “No one trespasses.”

In as calm a tone as Lucia could manage, she said, “Listen, Damiãno, we’re actually here to
stop
an evil from rising. Let’s just talk about this. We’re really on the same team.”

Easing nearer, MacRieve added, “If we doona go to Rio Labyrinto, there’s a god who’ll take over the earth.”

“There’s no evil greater than the Gilded One!”

“Bullshite!”

Lucia made a sound of frustration. “You two are going to argue about this? My evil’s bigger than your evil?”

“Damiãno, we’re speakin’ about a bluidy apocalypse!”

“As am I!” The male tightened his grip on her neck, pressing the blade into her skin.

MacRieve swallowed, still slipping closer. “Is that why you killed everyone on the other boat?”

Damiãno’s gaze darted. “What are you saying?”

“They’re all dead. All butchered. Likely
with a machete
.”

The shifter stared down at the blade, muttering, “It’s begun—”

Seizing the moment, Lucia went limp, dropping down, driving her elbow into his stomach. She ducked out of the way for MacRieve to strike.

The Scot did, tackling Damiãno. They crashed into a wall, cracking the wood supports, sending Damiãno’s machete clattering across the deck into the water.

The shifter roared, heaving back, charging MacRieve.

She’d drawn her bow free and nocked an arrow but hesitated. Both battled for the upper hand, each grappling for a hold on the other. They were spinning so fast, it was a blur. If she shot MacRieve…

“Lousha, the lure. Cut it loose!”

MacRieve wanted her to leave him?

“Go, Valkyrie!”

The caimans were still circling. If Damiãno didn’t get MacRieve, the caimans could get all of them. And Lucia believed the Scot could—and
wanted
to—defeat this foe.

So she forced herself away, dashing to the forward anchor. At the bow, she squinted down the length of the anchor chain, finally spotting the line for Schecter’s lure—the line that was now tangled around the chain, pulled taut, and hanging five feet out of her reach. All around it, caimans clashed to reach a mad scientist’s box of nothing.

Lying on her front, she hooked a foot around a railing post, suspending herself. Staring down into a tempest of snapping jaws, she stretched with her fingers splayed. Just out of reach. With a swallow, she relaxed her foot an inch…
Almost… got it!

She hauled it up, shimmying her body back until she was safe on the deck. With no time to breathe a sigh of relief, she darted to her feet, swinging the line round and round like a bola, flinging it down the river. When the current began carrying it away, some of the smaller creatures turned to the signal. The big ones seemed to be committed, lurking—as if they
expected
a meal.

As she ran back to MacRieve, she passed Schecter huddled in a corner of the galley, babbling with a butcher knife in hand. His pants reeked of urine. Charlie must’ve taken the injured Travis back into his cabin.
Can’t think about that…

When she returned to the fight, Damiãno and MacRieve had both begun to turn, the beasts within them spurred to the fray. Their bodies grew, muscles expanding, rippling with power.

Damiãno’s irises deepened to a fervent green. His fangs and claws elongated to wickedly sharp points. Patches of sleek black fur appeared.

MacRieve’s own beast flickered over him, his eyes gone ice blue with rage, his onyx claws flaring, but he hadn’t turned fully.
Why not?
This was no time for mercy!

Comprehension struck. Oh, Freya—MacRieve was prevented from turning by the cuff he wore!

With a chilling roar, Damiãno sank his canines into MacRieve’s arm. Blood spurted. MacRieve bellowed in pain, slashing his claws over Damiãno’s face, cleaving skin to the bone.

Gushing blood from his wounds, Damiãno barreled into MacRieve’s chest, crashing them into the side railing. They splintered the wood to pieces, then plunged into the murky river below.

They didn’t surface. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute. The longest of her entire life—

The pair shot up in the water, still in a fight to the death. She took aim at Damiãno, but they were too fast, sloshing water up with each blow.
Might hit MacRieve.

So she took up her vigil, shooting as many caimans as she could, but the big one was returning. She could see her earlier arrows jutting from its plated tail and back, yet it wouldn’t rise for her to take its eyes.

Though she shot continuously, it never slowed. “MacRieve!” she screamed. “It’s coming back!” She took another bead on Damiãno—

The stern of the ship reared up; she flipped back, crashing into the auxiliary boat. By the time she staggered back to her feet, she could only watch in horror as the giant caiman’s tail whipped through the air, knocking both men into the depths.

THIRTY-SIX

Lucia’s heart dropped to her stomach.
I can’t lose him.

I can’t….
She scanned the water but saw nothing.

MacRieve can’t be gone, can’t be dead.

She’d just strapped her bow over her body and tensed to dive in after him, when she heard from behind her,
“What the hell are you doing?”

She whirled around. “MacRieve!” He was on the other side of the boat, swimming fast for what was left of the platform. “How’d you get over there?”

“Caiman tail, I think,” he said as he climbed aboard. “A mite foggy on the details.”

Eyes watering with relief, she clutched him. “Look! It’s going away.” The giant caiman was following in the direction of the trap, along with the other hold-outs as well.

“You were divin’ in for me? Does
nothing
scare you?” MacRieve wrapped his arms around her, cupping her head to his heaving chest.

The downpour was still so loud, she had to scream over it. “What happened?”

“When the creature got Damiãno, he tried to drag me down with him. Till the thing swallowed him whole.”

“The shifter’s… dead?”

“Aye. And if he’s no’, he’s wishing he is. Let’s no’ speak of this. We’ve got to secure this ship…” He trailed off, because she’d stiffened against him.

“MacRieve, wh-where’s your cuff?”

Their eyes met, his widening. “Oh, bluidy hell.” Before she could stop him, he dove back in.

“Nooo!”
She knew there was no way he could find it. Again and again, he swam down. Finally, he hauled his body up once more, looking utterly defeated.

Side by side, they stood on the remnants of the platform, both of them staring at the water and pelted with rain. Now the cuff was gone, and Lucia was trapped on a boat with a werewolf about to go crazy. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m just fine, Lousha, doona fash yerself over me.”

“But it’s
gone
!”

“Oh, aye, and we canna break your vows. Nothing’s more important than that. Even the fact that I could’ve been killed!”

“You couldn’t have bought a backup cuff?” she demanded in a yell. “Had a spare in your bag?”

He bellowed back, “It never crossed my mind that I’d be battling a shape-shifter in the Amazon”—with an angry jab, he pointed out Damiãno’s deep bite on his arm—“and then wrestling with him underwater. Or that a giant caiman would drag him down, and he’d be snatching at me to take down with him. I barely got back to you! Maybe you’re wishing I dinna?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” No matter how incensed she was at him for putting her in this position, she didn’t want him hurt. And fighting with him was changing nothing—their situation wasn’t altering.
Think… think. This isn’t happening tonight.

Fate has a way of getting what she wants, no matter how we try to avoid it.

Ah, gods, unless she could get off this boat, it
would
be happening.

“Damn it, lass, I will try to be gentle.” Garreth reached for her shoulder. “Maybe if we started now, I could get you accustomed. I could make sure you were crazed with needing, too….”

But she flinched from him, clearly furious.
Rightly
furious with him.
I’d promised her that she had nothing to fear.
And Lucia had promised that she’d hate him forever if she broke her vows.

“It will no’ be like your last time, Lousha.”

“What do you know about my last time?”

“Does no’ take a genius to realize you had a bad experience.”

“Y-you have no idea.” She shuddered, her wee ears peeking out from her soaked mane.

“The man hurt you?”
Wanting to kill some faceless male, needing to… Keep it together, Garreth.

She nodded. And she hadn’t had sex in a millennium because of it.

“I’m not ready, MacRieve. I’m just
not
. I don’t want this.” Her eyes were bleak.

Over the last ten days, Garreth hadn’t eased her mind about sex. Or
changed
it. Either because of her vows or because she’d been scarred from the last time, Lucia wasn’t ready for this night—couldn’t endure a moon-crazed Lykae taking her untried body.

Without mercy.

“Listen, we can fix this.”

“H-how? Nothing will stop you. No cage can hold you.”

“You can put me out of commission, make it so I canna chase you,” he said.

“And how exactly am I supposed to do that?”

Garreth answered, “Shoot me between the eyes.”

“I-I can’t do that!” Lucia cried.

“Then you’ll do to me as my kinsmen did.”

“What?”

“They beat me within an inch of my life, then tied me up in a dungeon,” MacRieve said. “Broke a leg or two. Worked like a charm those times. We doona have a dungeon, but if you—”

“No, no, you had other women. I found condoms in your bag!”

He frowned. “I bought those for you, so I would no’ get a babe on you too soon. Had no’ found out your diet, or lack of one, would work just as well.”

She was still shaking her head in disbelief.