“Yes. I need something to pass the time up there, don’t I? My friend Esha gave me a laptop that’s loaded with movies and television shows. It’s how I keep in touch. With earth.”

The tinge of sadness to her voice tugged something within him that he quickly ignored.

“How big is this steamship?”

“Boat. It’s a steamboat. Steamships go on oceans, steamboats go on rivers.”

“Oookay then. I guess you like boats.”

He shrugged. But yeah, he did. About as much as she liked technology. There hadn’t been any significant bodies of water in Otherworld. Nothing other than small rivers and a few ponds. When he’d ended up on earth permanently, oceans had fascinated him, along with the lakes that were as big as seas and rivers so wide you’d have sworn you were at the beach. A passion for boats had followed shortly behind.

“So, how big?”

He sighed. “Don’t you have something else you want to be doing? Instead of bothering me?”

“Nope. Too dark to see much. I’d rather hear about the boat. How big is it?”

He sighed. “Fifty feet. Small open-air galley below the roof you’re standing on, bunkhouse with a bed behind that if you’re feeling tired.” Which he wished she was. She could have his bed, as long as it kept her away from him. He’d take the hammock tied in the open air of the bow, but odds on him sleeping, with the gods possibly on their tail, were slim.

“I’m not tired. Too keyed up being on earth,” she said.

“Speaking of, how long ’til the gods start looking for you?” And me.

“A day. I’ve never come to earth for longer than twenty-four hours. That always seemed to be a safe amount of time. I figure they’ll start to notice I’m gone once I miss a meeting. There’s one tomorrow.”

“They still have those?” He’d hated the damn things when he’d been there.

“Yeah. They’re no longer for accounting for worshipers, since we don’t have any alive anymore. Though the recent interest in Druids has given us a bit of power. Now the meetings are mostly for managing the mortals who came to Otherworld when they died and to keep track of the gods. So we don’t leave.” The last sentence was delivered with a scowl he could hear.

“The council is still obsessed with keeping the gods in Otherworld, then?” It had been the most important law when he’d still been a god.

“Yeah, I don’t get it. Greek and Roman and Norse gods get to go to earth whenever they want. But not us Celtic gods. No, Otherworld is weakened without our presence.” Her voice had lowered, and he huffed out a small laugh at her impression of Hafgan, one of Otherworld’s eldest gods.

Even at more than two thousand years old, Andrasta was the youngest Celtic god. He wasn’t surprised that she hated Otherworld. He’d been born there. Never known anything different, and therefore never felt a need to leave. Not until a young mortal’s skill with a bow had caught his attention. Then he’d gone to earth, met Andrasta, and fucked everything up.

“Anyway, on to happier topics. I’m going to have fun while I’m here on earth, damn it. You said that we’re two days out from the airport? Where’s our next stop?”

Fun? No. They’d be heading hard and fast toward Scotland and the potion that would get her out of his life. There’d be no time for fun. “Little town called Havre. Got some business I have to tie up if I’m going to be away a while. Not much going on there. We’ll be in and out.”

“What kind of business?”

Fates, she had a lot of questions. He’d never met anyone so chatty. But on her, he kind of liked it. He scowled. “Wouldn’t you rather take a nap?”

“Jeez, you’re grumpy. I don’t remember you being this grumpy.”

“My business is in pharmaceuticals.” Talking about the present was better than thinking about the past.

She laughed, a disbelieving sound swallowed by the shrieks of the howler monkeys. “Really?”

“Yeah. Good money.”

“Don’t those companies charge a fortune for sick people to get well?”

He shrugged. “Like I said. Good money.”

“But you just work for them, right? You’re not the boss or anything.”

He could tell from her voice that she didn’t want him to be the evil mastermind behind the operation. He couldn’t give her the answer she wanted, so he just shrugged.

Tags: Linsey Hall The Mythean Arcana Paranormal
Source: readsnovelonline.net