Pleasure of a Dark Prince (Immortals After Dark #9)(26)
Author: Kresley Cole

"Just before he rises, you’ll go to his lair, and shoot him in the heart with the arrow I’ve given you. Every five hundred years, I’ll provide you with another."

Return to his lair? Never. "How will I know when Cruach will rise?" So I’ll know when to run.

Skathi’s face had been impassive. "When the nightmares begin."

The first time Cruach had risen under Lucia’s watch, she’d been plagued by nightly visions so harrowing, she’d been driven to face her worst fear.

Now, just as before, her nightmares were becoming more frequent, more punishing, which meant time was running out….

"Yeah, Nïx, I’m a little swamped right now."

"And on top of everything you have to evade your Lykae."

"I’m not evading him." I’m totally evading him. "And he’s not my Lykae." Had those two passionate interludes been enough to blind Lucia to the sanctuary at Thrymheim? No, no way – she still had her abilities.

"After all you’ve done to MacRieve, I’d be running, too."

And all I continue doing to him. His pursuit had been relentless, so she’d protected herself – and her chastity – often in ruthless ways.

But she’d never shot him, not since their initial meeting. She knew he wouldn’t even try to dodge the arrow for fear of what it’d do to her.

Nïx said, "Regin bragged to the entire coven that you two had him trapped in a river canyon in logging country with an eighteen-wheeler full of trees parked on the rise above him. You shot the fastenings with arrows and a pile of logs rolled over him." Nïx chuckled. "If that wasn’t enough, you and Regin then threw the eighteen-wheeler on top of him!"

It was all true. He’d been nipping at their heels for days. "Just tell me how Reege’s doing." Since Lucia had been forced to leave her behind – after only their first four weeks on the lam.

"Badly. She’s acting out, getting high, picking fights with beings bigger than she is. She’s furious that you ‘abandoned’ her ‘like last year’s wardrobe.’ Especially when she was sleeping off an intoxispell hangover."

Lucia had the text messages from screen name Reg-Rad to prove all of the above. Months of emotional rollercoaster-y texts.

Nïx continued, "She teamed up briefly with Kaderin the Coldhearted for the Talisman’s Hie, but Kad booted her. I’ve been assigning her busy work, inviting old nemeses to New Orleans to try to kill her and such. But nothing keeps her down. She has been taking her Flintstones, incidentally. We all eagerly await the time when you can finally return to deal with her."

Lucia climbed higher, leaping for a taunting overhang. Got it. "You know why I’ve been forced to travel all over the world." For months, Lucia had dreamed of a dieumort arrow, envisioning a gold and flawless one like Skathi’s – but imbued with the Banemen’s power, the one-time power to kill a nightmare incarnate. She’d failed to locate it.

And now that she’d decided to settle for one of Skathi’s arrows, had planned to return and grovel to the goddess, Lucia couldn’t locate her either.

She was running out of time, and every step of the way MacRieve had hunted her, no matter how far-flung her destinations had become. She also suspected he’d been protecting her. Even now. Even after all she’d done to him.

She’d seen him in a village in the Northlands just two nights ago. What would he do to her if he caught her? She wondered this constantly.

"Nïx, is this why you called? About Regin?" Lucia asked. "I can try to talk to her."

"Actually, I called because there’s this pesky little apocalypse brewing. I need your help."

Sweat dripped into Lucia’s eyes. She irritably wiped it away, gazing up at the peak above her with yearning. Deep down, you know it isn’t Thrymheim, Lucia. "Why me?" There were dozens of other Valkyrie as strong as or stronger than Lucia. "Why not Cara or Annika?"

Nïx answered, "You’re the Valkyrie’s greatest hunter."

"Yes, I know this," Lucia said, immodest as ever. "But what’s the mission?"

"What’s what mission?" Nïx said softly, then with growing enthusiasm, "Am I to go on a mission?"

"Nïx, the apocalypse! Come on, snap out of it!"

Silence for a long moment. "Oh, I remember," she sniffed huffily, as if Lucia had broken her sunshine. "Yes, I have all your deets right here – where you need to be and what you need to do. All the specifics already foreseen. Basically you have to be on a particular boat in the Amazon jungle by three sharp tomorrow afternoon."

"The Amazon? That’s thousands of miles from where I am. Besides, I’m a hunter – not an explorer. Find someone else," she grated as she maneuvered another dozen feet higher. Her fingertips were on fire.

"Ah, but would anyone be as qualified as you? You see, the source of this apocalypse is… Cruach."

Lucia felt like her stomach dropped the four thousand feet to the ground.

"Yes, I thought you’d want to take care of this one," Nïx said in a thoughtful tone. "Since he’s your husband."

 18

Iquitos, Amazonia

Fifteen hours later…

Lucia sprinted from the heli pad through the remote river-port town, her senses bombarded by scents and sounds: the smell of hot peppers and green bananas in the market stands; the incessant horns from motorcycle rickshaws; street vendors hawking their wares, unaffected by the on-and-off drizzle of rain.

Though already exhausted from the last few weeks and wiped out from the constant travel over the last day, Lucia adjusted her backpack and travel bowcase to run even faster.

The time was a quarter after three.

Breakneck flights had gotten her out of the North-lands, then even more connections had followed to get to South America and into Iquitos.

She’d logged seven thousand miles in the last day.

Weary to her bones, she again cursed the instigator of this disaster – Nucking Futs Nïx.

She couldn’t have seen a freaking apocalypse sooner? To give Lucia time to buy a damned mosquito net, and maybe an Amazon river guidebook!

Lucia was almost to the water – not difficult, since Iquitos was encircled by the Amazon and two other tributaries. The sun peeked through lowering clouds, spawning a vibrant rainbow that seemed to end on the far banks of the Amazon.

Soon, a red clay shore came into view. Just at the water’s edge, a neighborhood of thatch-roofed houses floated on balsa platforms. A few large riverboats were lined up beside them, beached on the muddy banks.

As she ran headlong, she recalled the rest of that fateful conversation with the soothsayer:

"Nïx, how can Cruach bring about an apocalypse?"