Pleasure of a Dark Prince

Chapter 24

“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?”

“Aye, Lousha.” His gaze raked over her and his voice deepened. “The fact that you’re going to like it.”

Merely talking about marking her flesh made Garreth grow hard as steel. It was a burning need within him. “Do you want to know the rules or no’?” At her glare, he said, “Now, I’m sure you want your bow back. And every indication from you says you want my… knowledge. So you’re going to let me have my way with you each night we’re aboard. And also whenever there’s a storm with lightning to disguise yours—”

“It won’t happen! Does what I need or want count for nothing in your mixed-up idea of a relationship?”

“Aye, if you’ll admit what you truly need and want. My Instinct’s screaming that you need me, that you ache. I sense it in you—hell, I’m sensing it right now. I canna rest until I ease you.”

“I didn’t ask for this! For you—”

“You ask for it every goddamned time you’re near me, beauty.” He closed in on her, until their bodies were only inches apart. “Doona ever doubt that.”

She gazed up at him, lips parted, her breaths shallowing.

“Do you know what it’s been like to scent your desire for me? I’m lured by it, wanting it so badly, and then you lash out at me. Can you imagine the frustration, Lousha? I’ve got a year of it pent up inside me.” He leaned down, and against her neck, he murmured, “Or what it was like to find my female after so many centuries and then to be a heartbeat away from being inside her?” At her ear, he said, “I canna count how many times I re-imagined that night, fantasizing I’d sunk into your trembling body. In my mind, I’ve claimed you a thousand times. And from your expression, lass, I am no’ the only one who’s imagined us together.”

“No!” she cried, even as she stared at his lips and moistened her own. Her hips had begun subtly rocking toward him. Her hardened nipples were jutting points against her red shirt. “Let me go!”

“Damn you, Lousha!” He twisted away, launching his fist at the exterior wall, punching a hole straight through. “What do you want from me? Tell me why your words never match your actions! Why you respond so sweetly, then grow afraid?” He exhaled, regretting his show of temper. “It’s making me crazed.”

She backed away. “I can’t. Because you wouldn’t understand.”

— Soothe her. Be gentle. She knows fear. —

Lucia looked woebegone and fragile. And as much as Garreth talked a big game, the Instinct was driving him not only to claim her, but also to please her.

When she dropped her head into her hands, his brows drew together. “Come now, doona fret like this.” He curled his forefinger under her chin, lifting her face. “Vow to the Lore that you never want to see me again. And I’ll go,” he said. “That’s all you have to do to end this running.” What a gamble.

What a lie…