"Do it. Dare you to! And don't let a branch hit your ass on the way out."
"Oh, this is just great!"
"Oh, aye, this is 'juice grett.'"
He pointed his forefinger at her, opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut. "I will no' watch this," he finally grated, before loping off.
Chapter 18
Alone, Mari lay dazed by what had just occurred. She'd thought they were going to make love all night because he desired her. Not because he desired to impregnate her.
Or try to. MacRieve had to have his little test, because for whatever reason, he couldn't look at her, hear her voice, and be near her and know she was his.
What in the hell would it take for someone to say to Mari, "I choose you"?
She thought she would keel over in shock if someone got to know her, and then, based on her personal merits alone - not matehood, or whatever - said, "No doubt of it. You are the one for me."
And what would MacRieve have done if she didn't conceive after repeated attempts?
Left me, that's what.
That realization really blew, because now, when she thought of her future back in New Orleans, away from this other-world jungle, she kept seeing him in it.
She brushed another tear away. Damn it, what was it about her that made her so... disposable?
37
Sometimes Bowe could tell in an instant when a memory would be as clear in a thousand years as the day he experienced it.
When he returned to the campsite after a hard run, he knew the scene before him would prove indelible, lasting through even an immortal's lifetime.
With flashes of lightning in the background, and soft rain falling, he found Mariketa lying on her side in the lean-to, one arm folded under her head. Her other arm was raised, with a huge spider lumbering over her glowing hand. She absently regarded it with brilliant, mirrored eyes. Her lips were a deeper red than he'd ever seen them - blood red - and three sinister-looking apples lay half eaten beside her. She looked like that preternatural reflection he'd seen in the water.
- Be wary. -
Those ominous vines grew in profusion, twisting in dense layers over the lean-to, as if defensively, and the entire platform was surrounded by beasties - iguanas, frogs, snakes, deer mice, and coatimundi made up a creeping moat. In the canopy directly above her, territorial howler monkeys sat unusually poised and watchful, sharing their limbs with owls.
In the witch's current mood, she seemed to attract them all.
- Wary. Her power is unstable. -
He got chills, shivering even as he sweated after his run, and still part of him wanted to charge over there and comfort her.
He could feel her sadness and her disappointment - in him. His own anger had turned to a weary realization...
If he wanted her, he would have to change.
Weeks ago, he'd been disgusted to see that Lachlain had allowed his vampire mate to drink from him. Vampires had tortured Lachlain in unimaginable ways and had decimated his family. In turn, he'd killed thousands of their kind.
A vampire's bite was a mark of weakness, of abject shame among the Lykae; Lachlain wore Emma's bite like a badge. He had changed for her, had somehow overcome a millennium-long hatred.
Now Bowe understood why Lachlain had been moved to do so. But could Bowe accept the haunting female before him? Change an entrenched mind-set for her?
Bowe himself had advised Lachlain not to try to force Emma to their ways, but that hadn't meant that Bowe was saying to embrace her ways either.
He asked Mariketa, "Did you find out what happened to the others?"
Without facing him, she said, "They're safe."
"Are they coming?"
She shrugged. "I don't know - just learned that they're not in immediate danger."
When he remained silent, she murmured, "If you think I don't know what I look like, I do. No butterflies, fauns, and songbirds for me." She finally faced him. "It must be hard for you, going from a real fairy princess to the wicked witch who kills for money." She frowned to herself. "I think I'm supposed to be the villain in this piece."
"Maybe that's why we would fit so well." How in the hell could he expect her to tolerate the beast within him when he couldn't accept the power intrinsic in her? "If you're the villain, doona forget that I'm the monster."
Mari planted her hands on her knees as she sucked in air, her braids swinging forward with each inhalation. "You're doing this... to retaliate for last night." That morning, he'd pushed her for what had to be leagues, using his machete and his claws to thrash through the jungle at a breakneck pace. "Fine. Take the patch... knock me up with a litter... but just let me stop!"
"No' to retaliate." His mood, not exactly jubilant after having slept in the rain last night, had grown steadily worse as the day progressed.
"Then why are you pushing so hard?"
"I'd hoped Rydstrom and the others would have caught up with us by now."
She rolled her eyes. "A clue? You slow down when you want people to catch up."
"Their pace would be twice as fast as ours. They should've been able to rejoin us." He handed her the canteen. "Listen, Mariketa, I want you to know that I'm sorry for last night. Though I've long wanted bairns, I'd give up the chance forever if the alternative was your suffering. I doona know how to convince you of this, but it's true."
He appeared so earnest, and yet she wasn't sold. "I don't know how you can convince me either."
"Here." He held out his hand. "I'll carry you on my back, but we have to move. There might be a highway in reach. You could hitch a ride into Belize and get to the coast, maybe to an airport."