Rogue Soul (The Mythean Arcana 3)
“I think I sensed you first because I sent you here,” Ana said
It made sense. Taking someone’s life, sending their soul elsewhere, was a powerful thing. It linked them. But it’d only be a matter of time before the other gods found him. He had to get his cloaking charm renewed before they did.
“Help me find a way out of Otherworld.” Desperation was thick in her voice. “Permanently. I renounce my godship. I need your help.”
She needed him. How the hell was he supposed to ignore that? Their past was fucking complicated, but part of him felt like he owed her. “You can’t renounce your godship.”
“But there has to be a way out. You found one, and I want it too.”
“I can’t do that. I don’t have that power.”
Ana groaned and nearly stomped her foot. She couldn’t take no for an answer, not after so much time spent searching and dreaming of a way to have a real life. If the other gods found them before she could convince Cam to help her regain her humanity, she’d be forced back to Otherworld. Failure meant a fate she’d happily trade for death if she could.
“Someone has that powe
r, and you know who it is. Take me to them,” she demanded.
“Or what?” His voice froze with a deadly cold.
“Or I’ll tell the other gods where you are. I meant it when I said it. I’ve got nothing to lose. If the other gods catch me deserting, I’m worse than dead. If you don’t help me, I’ll tell them where you are. You know I can be back in Otherworld in an instant.” She snapped her fingers. It was the only card she had in her hand, and she had to make him believe her.
He cursed, spurring the monkeys on to greater howls. The jungle had as much energy as the bar, but it didn’t bother her like that of the Mythean energy inside. What did bother her was the man who towered over her, even though he’d stepped back. She wasn’t used to feeling small or helpless. She’d left that behind along with her humanity. But he made her feel that way, and she hated the fact that it caused her blood to sing through her veins and her skin to heat.
“Well?” she prodded.
“Fine.” His voice carried the harshness of boulders scraping against each other as the earth moved. “Druantia created the potion that allowed me to Fall. I sought her out after meeting you, when I realized the gods were plotting against us.”
The name was familiar. She was the most powerful Druid priestess and the one who’d facilitated communication between gods and mortals back when mortals still worshiped Celtic gods.
“She’s your friend, so you think she’ll give me the potion?”
“She’s not my friend. She does a job for me when I need her to, and if you pay her, she’ll do it for you too. She’s difficult and a pain in the ass, but her services can be bought.”
“Excellent. Take me to her and I promise I’ll leave you alone. You can have your life”— she gestured to the bar and he scowled—“back to normal.”
He thought about her offer for a moment and nodded. “I’m not actually helping you. I need a new cloaking charm, and you can tag along, but you’re on your own. I’m not taking care of you along the way.”
She scowled at him. “Please, like I need you to protect me. I killed you, remember?”
“Don’t remind me.”
CHAPTER THREE
Cam watched Andrasta step onto the deck of his boat, a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach at the sight of her entering the place he’d called home these past few decades. He hadn’t had another person on his boat in years. He preferred it that way. The jungle allowed him to keep to himself, no questions asked. The towns allowed him to find the occasional woman when he wanted one, but otherwise he was left alone there as well.
So what the hell was he doing, letting her tag along? He hated traveling with others. Not to mention that he’d expected never to see her again. Yet here they were, about to spend the next two days traveling downriver to the nearest airport. After they flew to Scotland, it’d take at least another few days to find Druantia.
He’d fallen hard for Andrasta when he’d met her two thousand years ago. He’d been a stone-cold god, incapable of emotion—until he’d laid eyes on her. She roused things in him that were hard to control. And if he were honest with himself, he hadn’t felt like that about anyone since her.
But he couldn’t afford to be distracted by her now, not when all his attention needed to be on getting them safely to Druantia before the gods found them.
“You coming?” She looked back over her shoulder at him.
He shook away the thoughts and stepped off the ramshackle dock he tied off to every time he visited the Caipora’s Den. He’d take her to Druantia, get his cloaking spell renewed, and then he could get back to the work he was meant to be doing. He had responsibilities he couldn’t screw up.
“We’ll find Druantia in Scotland, right?” Andrasta asked.
“Yes. It’s been two thousand years since I’ve seen her last, but she’ll be somewhere in the north.” He’d called a couple contacts on the walk to the boat, hoping they’d know where she lived now. “I’m waiting on some information about her whereabouts.”