“I’ve got this,” Cam growled, and reached for his sword. He sure as hell wished he had his old bow right now. Bastard Cotra demons always thought he was transporting some kind of treasure. The fact that he sometimes did was irrelevant, because they were never going to get it.
“No.” Andrasta’s voice had a blade of its own. “It’s mine.”
Within seconds, an arrow protruded from the skull of each demon. They collapsed to the muddy ground with a thud that made the jungle animals temporarily cease howling and screeching.
“What the hell? I said I had it,” he said.
“No, it was my job to watch the shore. They were my responsibility.” She turned to face him. Something hot and determined burned in her eyes.
He’d seen a shadow of it when he’d met her so many years ago. The desire to prove herself. To do the job she was assigned better than anyone had ever done it before. It was admirable at a time when he didn’t want to admire her.
She was a goddess stuck in Otherworld, and he didn’t believe there was a hope of her getting out. He was a demigod stuck on earth. There was no way they had a chance and pursuing more would only end in misery.
He shrugged. “Fine. They’re back in the hell they came from. It’ll be a while before they can bother me again.”
As a Mythean, he’d always appreciated knowing that all souls are immortal. Upon their deaths, mortals would go to whatever afterlife they believed in and deserved. Belief was like a window that showed them the road they needed to take to their afterworld. Atheists were a mystery, but they ended up somewhere as well because it took some serious effort to snuff out the energy of a soul. Mytheans, the creatures of myth made real by mortal belief, were aware of the immortality of their souls.
Cam watched the bodies of the demons begin to steam. Within minutes, their earthly forms would sublimate and their souls would return to whatever hell they were from. Eventually they might get out again and come after him, because some Mytheans could cross from afterworlds to earth without death. If they did, he’d deal with them then.
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“Where are they from?” Andrasta asked.
“One of the minor hells. Don’t know the name. But they like shiny things, and I occasionally carry gold. They’re not too smart, but they can recognize the sound of my engine if they’re nearby. Good shots with the arrows, by the way.”
“Obviously.”
The compliment seemed to insult her, like it was beyond obvious that she’d be a good shot and to say so minimized it somehow. But then, he supposed it was obvious that she was an excellent shot. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place.
“Enjoy your shower?” she asked, an evil grin on her face.
“Enjoy watching?”
Her grin widened, but she turned away and hopped off the boat. He watched her retrieve her arrows, telling himself to take his stupid fucking eyes off of her. Eventually he did, and returned to the shower to snap off the water.
Hell, what had he been thinking, jerking off in front of her? He never lost his mind like that. The Amazon required constant vigilance, but as soon as he was around her, any brains he had disappeared. It had been like that when he’d first met her, and apparently nothing had changed. Another reason to stay the hell away from her.
“Want something to eat?” he asked. As much as he wanted to chuck her off the boat, it wasn’t an option. And he didn’t want to starve her. She didn’t need to eat as often as a mortal, but she still required sustenance.
“Sure.” She was cleaning the demon blood off her arrows and repacking her quiver. The way she stroked the wood as she removed the blood spoke of how much she cared for her weapons and reminded him how much he missed his bow. He shook his head and turned toward the galley.
Quickly he threw together two sandwiches and handed one to her. He ate while untying the lines and casting off. He popped the last bit in his mouth, then climbed up to the pilothouse. It’d be best to get to Havre before nightfall.
“Need any help?” Andrasta called.
His gaze raked across the shore, a green monster encroaching from both sides, unknown dangers lurking within. “Keep an eye on the jungle in case there are more demons.”
He’d used the little dock he’d built in this tributary too often. This was the second time they’d found him here. Too many times for it to be coincidence.
“Sure thing.” She started to climb the ladder to the pilothouse.
“You can do it from the hammock in the bow.”
“I like the roof.”
He sighed. “Fine.”
She hopped lithely onto the flat roof behind him and paced back and forth. By the time they’d rejoined the main river and were headed toward Havre again, she’d leaned with her back against the wall of the pilothouse, presumably so that she could look out over the stern while he watched over the bow.