And MacRieve told her more about the necropolis. If they could locate Rio Labyrinto, they could find the city of the dead. In that place were depictions of gold, possibly directing them to "the mythical" El Dorado - which, MacRieve had told her, might or might not even be a place.
"Everyone thinks it's a location, a lost city," he'd said, "but the phrase is actually based on a legend of a native chieftain. He was so rich that he ridiculed anyone who wore the same jewelry twice. Instead, he had his gold ground into a mist, then painted on his body. At the end of the day, he'd wash it away, and it'd be lost forever. El Dorado means 'the Gilded Man.'"
If El Dorado had merely been a man, then he probably would've been buried in a necropolis. Had he been buried with his gold? If he were surrounded by his golden treasures - like arrows? - then maybe El Dorado could still be a man and a place.
Lucia didn't expect a neon sign pointing to the dieumort, but she and MacRieve had enough clues to... get them to the next set of clues. In truth, she'd never been on such an ill-defined mission. But if it were easy to find a dieumort, then it would've been found before.
And Lucia sensed they were getting closer, daydreaming incessantly about that perfect golden arrow, imagining how it would hiss through the air once she shot it.
She pictured the look on Cruach's hideous visage when he realized she'd just dealt a death blow....
At other times, Lucia would read to MacRieve from an Amazon guide book that Izabel had given her. As Lucia discovered more about the perils they'd face in Rio Labyrinto - the anacondas and those creepy caimans - MacRieve carved arrows for her new quiver. With that sly look, he'd said, "If I canna fill your quiver in one way, I will in another."
She'd chuckled. "Good one, werewolf."
He'd grown quiet, seeming startled. "First time I've heard your laugh."
"And?"
"And now I canna rest until I hear it again." He'd leapt atop her, tickling her till she'd squealed with laughter....
She was so tempted to tell him everything. Especially when he held her against his chest, warm in the circle of his muscular arms, murmuring, "Let me in, Lousha. Confide your secrets in me."
She knew he wanted her to reveal what her nightmares were about. But Lucia didn't believe in confiding, had never comprehended why others sought to unburden themselves - thereby burdening another. No, she'd never understood the act of transferring misery, but especially not with a secret like this.
A fact-of-life secret, something that simply couldn't be changed.
How would MacRieve react if he knew his mate was married? The rage would have to overwhelm him. And when she explained who her husband was and how she'd come to be wed, nothing would stop MacRieve from confronting Cruach. Which would be tantamount to suicide. Or worse.
Sometimes Cruach didn't kill victims. Sometimes he kept them.
So she continued putting MacRieve off. Yet she felt he was only biding his time, as if he had no doubt she'd ultimately open up to him.
Which will never happen. Lucia had decided she would do whatever it took to keep her involvement with Cruach concealed from MacRieve. But on other matters, she was less resolved....
Regin always asked herself, Is the cake worth the bake? Invariably, for Regin, it was. Now Lucia had caught herself wondering if having a life with MacRieve might be. When all this was over, if she could truly kill Cruach...
No! What the hell am I thinking? Even if she didn't have to stop an apocalypse, she couldn't surrender her archery. It would be like erasing her identity.
You get off on being known as the Archer, he'd said.
Yes. Yes, I do. She'd go from being the Archer to being the Lykae's Mate.
Never, she decided.
Then she went to go catch dinner.
31
A three-foot-long fish plopped onto the deck in front of Garreth and Damiãno. Jutting from its head was an arrow with a line attached. Bow fishing.
From behind them, Lucia said, "Please put your penises away, gentlemen. Dinner is procured. By a woman."
Garreth twisted around, found her slinging her bow over her shoulder, brushing off her unsullied hands. As she sauntered away, the lass said over her shoulder, "I caught, you boys can clean."
Gods, that female. Drives me crazy. When Garreth glanced back, he saw Damiãno was gazing after her as well. "Look at her again like that, Damiãno!" He stepped in front of the man. "Do it, and let's end this now."
The man's eyes flashed to a glowing green.
In a low tone, Garreth said, "You're a goddamned shifter!"
"And you're an escocês dog."
That raised his hackles. "Scottish dog?" Revealing a good look of the beast within him, Garreth growled, "I've got your number, shifter. So stay out of my bluidy way."
In turn, Damiãno revealed a hint of his own beast - a black jaguar with fangs as long as Garreth's fingers. "Don't get in mine, escocês."
No fear of me - interesting. "You better truly be here as a doc and for no other reason." Jaguar shifters were rumored to be exceptionally powerful. Might actually be a worthy opponent.
"I'm here to protect the Amazon. Don't ever forget that."
"I'm here to protect my mate. I'll do it to the death. Count yourself warned. In the meantime, you've got fish to clean, gato," Garreth said, turning away to look for Lucia.
What's new there?
She was hanging over the rickety rail, watching the pink dolphins that swam alongside the ship. Her short shorts rode up until he could almost glimpse the cleft of her generous arse. He gave a low growl at the sight. Then his gaze fell on the slender column of her neck. His mouth watered for her, his fangs aching to mark the tender flesh there.
Now I understand why my brother marked his mate so hard. When Garreth finally got to do it to Lucia... I'll mark the living hell out of her.
He was pleasuring her - hard and continually - but Garreth hadn't gained any ground with her, was no closer to claiming her. She'd made no request that he take her completely. At least not out of bed.
And the full moon was tonight. He'd hoped to have convinced her to forgo her vows before now. So he could take off the cuff and claim her.
Added to that, he couldn't shake the feeling of some impending threat. Something more than the nearing apocalypse and the full moon. He felt as if he were running out of time on all fronts....
A dolphin sprayed water from its blowhole, making Lucia laugh. She'd begun laughing more often. Whenever he let himself believe it was because of him, he stood a little taller.
The gift of a butterfly had been a stroke of genius. "You named it after me?" she'd asked, her expression growing soft, her eyes flickering silver.