Rogue Soul (The Mythean Arcana 3) - Page 19

Though his gray eyes darkened with heat, he didn’t say anything, just turned back to the wheel.

Huh. He was attracted to her. But jealous also? She shivered. Did he still feel that little twinge of something from the past, like she did? No. The memories of their time together were nothing but dust—bad moments from when her life had gone off the tracks. She’d been wrong.

How could he possibly still be interested in her? She’d blackmailed him into helping her escape Otherworld. Not to mention the arrows she’d put through his chest before she’d become a god. She’d been desperate both times, and he’d been the one to get her out of trouble. He’d also been the one who’d gotten her in trouble. So perhaps they were even.

But that thing with the shower… Her hands tightened on the top of the wooden half-wall as several key parts of her heated at the memory. He really had been doing what she’d thought. She shivered again.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea. She was grateful the demons had distracted her. Of course she was.

Because the man had secrets. Secrets that had screwed up her life and might screw it up again. She barely knew anything about him—past life or present—and what she did know indicated he was trouble. And she was trouble when she was around him. Together, they were bad news. He’d gotten her stuck in the very place she was trying to escape.

She’d come to earth for a life. For love and adventure and excitement. To be with people who made her happy and pushed out the darkness of the past two thousand years. Not for something complicated that was more than two thousand years in the making. Not for something that had ruined her life last time she’d been on earth.

CHAPTER SIX

Cam heaved a sigh of relief when the little steamboat finally pulled up to the wharf at Havre around dusk. Night animals screeched and howled as darkness descended on the jungle.

Dim yellow lamps shed a sickly glow on the brown river and docks. The jumble of wooden buildings that made up Havre crowded against the wharf and were lit only slightly better, which was fortunate as too good a view of Havre would put one off their visit.

“So, this is it then?” Andrasta asked brightly as she hopped onto the dock. Her bow was still strapped to her back, quiver full, and he figured that she didn’t go anywhere without it, even if she was on the hunt for a man rather than a battle. His jaw tightened. As soon as he realized it, he forced it to relax.

Not his business. She could do what she wanted with her body. The fact that he was lusting after it was nothing but stupid.

But he couldn’t keep his gaze from following her up the dock, the sway in her step and the fresh scent of her dragging him along like a mutt on a leash. She was a pillar of ivory skin and golden hair that stood out like a beacon of light against the gloomy buildings. He sighed and followed the pull of her.

“Bar is two buildings down on the left,” he said to her back.

He stepped onto the shore behind her and followed her down the muddy, deserted street. Ramshackle wooden buildings rose two stories on either side of them, though Cam wouldn’t have bet that the second stories were habitable. He made a point to sleep on the Clara G. whenever he was in Havre. It wasn’t just the accommodation. Being around so many people for an extended time made him antsy.

“Sounds good. Can I buy you a drink? You know, for all the help?” she asked over her shoulder.

“You’ll owe me more than a drink.”

They’d nearly reached the door to the bar, and she turned to look at him. Her raised brow made him curse.

What kind of more? it said. The wicked tilt to her lips suggested that she had an idea.

He shook his head, trying to force the thoughts away. She shrugged and turned to push into the dirty little bar.

“You do take me to the nicest places,” she said out of the corner of her mouth when he joined her in the entryway of the bar. It was twice as big as the Caipora’s Den and half as nice, which was saying something.

“Anything for you, sugar,” he said, then frowned, not knowing where the joking side of him was coming from.

“Sure.”

They approached the long bar together, Cam’s shoulders tensing as he took in the heads that swiveled to check out Andrasta. But her glow had faded to a faint luminescence of her skin. The men were looking for a different reason, and though it made something in his brain squeeze hard, he ignored it.

He let her buy him a beer from the unusually friendly bartender, who must be new if she was still so friendly in this hellhole, and then scanned the motley crowd for the person he’d come to meet. He gestured with his beer at the rangy, dark-haired man sitting at the end of the bar. “I’ve got to go talk to him. Can you keep yourself entertained?”

She grinned at him. “It’s what I came here for.”

He frowned, then left her to it.

“Harp,” he said as he approached the man who was sitting on a barstool looking longingly after the friendly bartender.

Harp, one of his few friends, spun to face him with a smile. “Cam! About time. Did you get it?”

Cam nodded and took a seat on the barstool next to his friend and colleague. He glanced behind him to see Andrasta talking with a hulking bodybuilder of a man. That hadn’t taken long.

Tags: Linsey Hall The Mythean Arcana Paranormal
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