by Kresley Cole
The trail ended at the door of the last cabin. Locked. Tensing for a fight, Garreth broke the polished brass knob. Inside, a coffin lay. An eerily simple casket—wood, no varnish or sets of pallbearer handles. Of course, the vampire wouldn’t likely be carted around in it.
Garreth crouched beside the coffin. With fangs bared and flared claws raised to strike, he tore open the lid.
Empty.
But then another scent impression teased Garreth. He rose, exiting the vampire’s room, tracking it farther into the boat until he stood before the freezer. Drawing a breath, knowing what he’d find, he opened the door.
All the passengers were inside. Dead. Their bodies had been butchered into pieces and stuffed within.
Among the limbs, he spied Captain Malaquí’s glaring tattooed arm. When Garreth had seen the man just this afternoon, had Malaquí already known the others were dead? And that his time was nigh…?
The vampire was missing, with a trail of blood leading to—or from—his cabin, and all the people aboard had perished. Should be easy to deduce what had happened. Yet these people had been hacked at.
What weapon could have done this? A sword, an ax?
His eyes narrowed. Charlie had had a machete this morning. I knew something was off….
“Lousha!” Garreth twisted around, sprinting for the water.
“What the hell is MacRieve doing?” Through the pounding rain, Lucia had spotted him boarding the Barão! “Why would he go…” She trailed off.
The Contessa had just seemed to ripple beneath her feet before stilling once more. “That was weird.” She’d no sooner spoken than the entire vessel shuddered, moving sideways, straining against the anchors. Wood groaned from the pressure. She hunched down, her eyes darting.
From his cabin, Travis barked, “What the hell was—”
Like a shot, the Contessa reared up, briefly tilting to the side, sending Lucia skidding to the opposite side of the deck. As she scrabbled for purchase, her mind tried to grasp what could do this—what would be big enough to do this.
And how much more could the Contessa take?
When the boat was hit again, rising up off its hull before settling, Schecter shrieked from the port side of the boat.
Lucia’s eyes narrowed as a suspicion arose, and she clambered around the pitching decks toward him. Once she’d reached the side, her jaw slackened at the scene.
Schecter. Hanging on for his life to a splintering railing. Directly beneath his dangling body, an immense caiman peered up, about to strike.
Her lips parted around a shocked breath. The creature was colossal, with red eyes the size of basketballs. And it wasn’t alone. The water all around the boat churned with eddies.
MacRieve had told her that there were in fact giant caimans—but that they lived in Rio Labyrinto, not anywhere else!
Wait… the ship was only a few hours from there. Dear gods, was Schecter’s lure actually working, drawing them here from the hidden tributary?
Lucia readied her bow, stringing two arrows. The creature’s hide would be plated thick, so she aimed for the red eyes—big enough targets.
When she nailed the caiman in both sockets, it thrashed twice, sending up copious waves of water and mud that splattered the side of the boat. Then it disappeared.
Lucia strapped her bow across her body, then dove across the deck for Schecter, snagging his wrist. “What have you done?” she demanded. “What is this?”
He replied in hysterical gibberish—so she feinted like she was dropping him. “What was that, Schecter?”
“Lure. Worked!”
“Where is it?” She couldn’t hear the contraption, which meant it was still underwater.
“I don’t know! Got jostled, caught in the anchor line,” he answered, looking so petrified that she believed him.
She’d just swung him back on solid footing when Travis and Izabel stumbled out onto the deck.
“What the hell’s going on, doc?” Travis snapped. The big Texan was wielding his shotgun.
Izabel herself had a machete. “Wh-what could do this?” she cried over the rain.
“Ask Schecter!” Lucia turned, but he’d already disappeared.
Rossiter staggered out from the cabin area. “Somebody want to tell me what’s happening?”
“Schecter’s lure worked. We’re surrounded by giant caimans,” Lucia said, but no one believed her—they couldn’t see in the dark.
When lightning flashed, illuminating the creatures swarming the boat, Rossiter’s jaw slackened. “Schecter did… this?”
Travis’s eyes went wide. “I’m going to kick his worthless ass.”
“Can that wait?” Rossiter gazed around uneasily. “We need to get under way, stat!”
“Might help if I could find my fucking deckhand!” Travis said with a scowl. “We’re taking on water—we’ve got to get the pumps going before I can crank the engines.”
“I’m on the pumps!” Rossiter yelled, running at once for the engine room.
Gazing toward the bow, Lucia said, “The lure’s still working. I’ll try to find it, get rid of it.”
“Wait, Lucia,” Izabel said, “where’s Mr. MacRieve—”
Another lurching hit to the ship sent Lucia tumbling across the deck, her claws like grappling hooks over the wood. From a distance she saw Travis and Izabel launched into the galley wall; Travis hit head-first, the blow knocking him out cold. Looking dazed but unharmed, Izabel dropped her machete to tend to him.
The next rock of the boat loosed a weighty beam above the two. It plummeted toward the captain’s motionless body, but little Izabel caught it, straining to hold it over her head.
Lucia dashed up to help, but before she could reach Izabel, the woman… changed.
Involuntarily backing up a step, Lucia gaped. She’d lived a long time. Never had she seen this. Giant caimans could be explained, but this…
Clearly, Izabel needed no help. Right before Lucia’s eyes, she’d just morphed.
Into… Charlie. And… and he was managing the beam handily. Can’t think about this right now—
“Lousha!” Dimly, she heard MacRieve yelling for her. She whirled around, hurrying to the platform to warn him away. He’d just run out onto the stern of the Barão.
“MacRieve, something’s in the water!” she yelled as the boat rose up once more. “Stay there!”
“Fook that!” sounded back.
Then he dove in.
“Damn him!” She had to clear a way back for him. With the help of her new quiver, she shot repeatedly, aiming for the caimans’ eyes, arrows flying as if she were flanked by a hundred archers.
She killed several of the creatures, but something was still rippling the water behind MacRieve. It was just below the surface but making a sizeable wake.
“Swim faster!” Had to be a caiman—but one as big as a freaking submarine. She couldn’t see it through the muddy water and pouring rain. Though she shot it over and over, its rugged hide and the water buffer shielded it. She could do little to slow its advance.
And MacRieve kept pointing at her! Taking precious moments to yell.
“Just swim, Scot! There’s something on your tail!” Why wasn’t he swimming faster? The thing was right—
“Behind you!” he roared. Their eyes briefly met; his were filled with dread.
She whirled around just as lightning flashed. Damiãno had a machete raised above her head.
Chapter 35
Garreth watched as Lucia ducked from Damiãno with uncanny speed, kicking out at the man’s knee. She’d bought a heartbeat’s time, scrambling away to another deck as Damiãno limped after her.
Knowing she was safe for a moment, Garreth dug in, swimming even harder. Yet he could eke out no lead on whatever was pursuing him. Had to be a caiman, but his mind struggled to wrap around the size of it.
He felt the motion of water behind him as it propelled itself forward, gaining. And without Lucia’s arrows whizzing past him in the air, m
ore of the caimans were circling.
Almost to the boat! So close… Just then, the caiman began rising, sending a sharp wave of water fanning out, briefly lifting Garreth. How big was the fucking thing? When it breached the surface, Garreth felt its foul breath spraying water over his head and nape like a sprinkler.
Doona look back… doona look back. He could hear its ancient bones grinding and clicking as its jaws opened wide.
Garreth dove, dropping like a stone. When he reached the river bottom, he kicked against it with all his might and went hurtling to the surface, leaping for the boat. He landed on the platform, then sprang for the main deck just as teeth slammed down on the platform, biting out the middle.
With angry, almost sentient eyes, the caiman sank, disappearing into the black once more.
At once, Garreth lunged to his feet. “Lousha!” The storm boiled, lightning streaking the sky, thunder so loud it pained his ears.
“MacRieve?” She ran for him on the stern deck.
“Where’s Damiãno?”
“I don’t know—I lost him for a second.” Twisting around, eyes wary, she strapped her bow across her body. “What is going on? And why did you get in the water?”
“Lousha, the Barão. It’s a ghost ship.”
“What?”
“Everyone on board has been killed. Hacked to pieces. I thought it was Charlie at first, until I saw Damiãno.” Garreth grabbed her forearms. “I want you out of here!” The ship hurled up once more. “Goddamnit, why are those caimans attacking?”
“Schecter’s lure. It worked! But I can’t get to the front—”
“The creatures protect the Labyrinto,” Damiãno intoned from where he’d crouched directly above them. “As will I.”
The shifter leapt down with the machete, snagging Lucia by her neck, pressing the blade against her throat. “You’re not to enter the Labyrinth.”
Lucia dared a glance up at the male. His green eyes glowed with menace.
“Let her go!” MacRieve yelled. “Fight me!”
“You were never supposed to get this close. The tomb is forbidden to outsiders.”
“You’re the guardião?” Lucia demanded. The guardian Nïx had warned of.
Damiãno seemed unhearing. “You don’t know what evil sleeps in the Labyrinth. The Gilded One will rise.”
Her mind raced. The Gilded One? El Dorado was a man! An evil man?
“We’re no’ here to wake any evil!” MacRieve snapped.
Damiãno shook his head hard. “No one trespasses.”
In as calm a tone as Lucia could manage, she said, “Listen, Damiãno, we’re actually here to stop an evil from rising. Let’s just talk about this. We’re really on the same team.”
Easing nearer, MacRieve added, “If we doona go to Rio Labyrinto, there’s a god who’ll take over the earth.”
“There’s no evil greater than the Gilded One!”
“Bullshite!”
Lucia made a sound of frustration. “You two are going to argue about this? My evil’s bigger than your evil?”
“Damiãno, we’re speakin’ about a bluidy apocalypse!”
“As am I!” The male tightened his grip on her neck, pressing the blade into her skin.
MacRieve swallowed, still slipping closer. “Is that why you killed everyone on the other boat?”
Damiãno’s gaze darted. “What are you saying?”
“They’re all dead. All butchered. Likely with a machete.”
The shifter stared down at the blade, muttering, “It’s begun—”
Seizing the moment, Lucia went limp, dropping down, driving her elbow into his stomach. She ducked out of the way for MacRieve to strike.
The Scot did, tackling Damiãno. They crashed into a wall, cracking the wood supports, sending Damiãno’s machete clattering across the deck into the water.
The shifter roared, heaving back, charging MacRieve.
She’d drawn her bow free and nocked an arrow but hesitated. Both battled for the upper hand, each grappling for a hold on the other. They were spinning so fast, it was a blur. If she shot MacRieve…
“Lousha, the lure. Cut it loose!”
MacRieve wanted her to leave him?
“Go, Valkyrie!”
The caimans were still circling. If Damiãno didn’t get MacRieve, the caimans could get all of them. And Lucia believed the Scot could—and wanted to—defeat this foe.
So she forced herself away, dashing to the forward anchor. At the bow, she squinted down the length of the anchor chain, finally spotting the line for Schecter’s lure—the line that was now tangled around the chain, pulled taut, and hanging five feet out of her reach. All around it, caimans clashed to reach a mad scientist’s box of nothing.
Lying on her front, she hooked a foot around a railing post, suspending herself. Staring down into a tempest of snapping jaws, she stretched with her fingers splayed. Just out of reach. With a swallow, she relaxed her foot an inch… Almost… got it!
She hauled it up, shimmying her body back until she was safe on the deck. With no time to breathe a sigh of relief, she darted to her feet, swinging the line round and round like a bola, flinging it down the river. When the current began carrying it away, some of the smaller creatures turned to the signal. The big ones seemed to be committed, lurking—as if they expected a meal.
As she ran back to MacRieve, she passed Schecter huddled in a corner of the galley, babbling with a butcher knife in hand. His pants reeked of urine. Charlie must’ve taken the injured Travis back into his cabin. Can’t think about that…
When she returned to the fight, Damiãno and MacRieve had both begun to turn, the beasts within them spurred to the fray. Their bodies grew, muscles expanding, rippling with power.
Damiãno’s irises deepened to a fervent green. His fangs and claws elongated to wickedly sharp points. Patches of sleek black fur appeared.
MacRieve’s own beast flickered over him, his eyes gone ice blue with rage, his onyx claws flaring, but he hadn’t turned fully. Why not? This was no time for mercy!
Comprehension struck. Oh, Freya—MacRieve was prevented from turning by the cuff he wore!
With a chilling roar, Damiãno sank his canines into MacRieve’s arm. Blood spurted. MacRieve bellowed in pain, slashing his claws over Damiãno’s face, cleaving skin to the bone.
Gushing blood from his wounds, Damiãno barreled into MacRieve’s chest, crashing them into the side railing. They splintered the wood to pieces, then plunged into the murky river below.
They didn’t surface. Thirty seconds passed, then a minute. The longest of her entire life—
The pair shot up in the water, still in a fight to the death. She took aim at Damiãno, but they were too fast, sloshing water up with each blow. Might hit MacRieve.
So she took up her vigil, shooting as many caimans as she could, but the big one was returning. She could see her earlier arrows jutting from its plated tail and back, yet it wouldn’t rise for her to take its eyes.
Though she shot continuously, it never slowed. “MacRieve!” she screamed. “It’s coming back!” She took another bead on Damiãno—
The stern of the ship reared up; she flipped back, crashing into the auxiliary boat. By the time she staggered back to her feet, she could only watch in horror as the giant caiman’s tail whipped through the air, knocking both men into the depths.
Chapter 36
Lucia’s heart dropped to her stomach. I can’t lose him.
I can’t…. She scanned the water but saw nothing.
MacRieve can’t be gone, can’t be dead.
She’d just strapped her bow over her body and tensed to dive in after him, when she heard from behind her, “What the hell are you doing?”
She whirled around. “MacRieve!” He was on the other side of the boat, swimming fast for what was left of the platform. “How’d you get over there?”
“Caiman tail, I think,” he said as he climbed aboard. “A mite foggy on the details.”
&nb
sp; Eyes watering with relief, she clutched him. “Look! It’s going away.” The giant caiman was following in the direction of the trap, along with the other hold-outs as well.
“You were divin’ in for me? Does nothing scare you?” MacRieve wrapped his arms around her, cupping her head to his heaving chest.
The downpour was still so loud, she had to scream over it. “What happened?”
“When the creature got Damiãno, he tried to drag me down with him. Till the thing swallowed him whole.”
“The shifter’s… dead?”
“Aye. And if he’s no’, he’s wishing he is. Let’s no’ speak of this. We’ve got to secure this ship…” He trailed off, because she’d stiffened against him.
“MacRieve, wh-where’s your cuff?”
Their eyes met, his widening. “Oh, bluidy hell.” Before she could stop him, he dove back in.
“Nooo!” She knew there was no way he could find it. Again and again, he swam down. Finally, he hauled his body up once more, looking utterly defeated.
Side by side, they stood on the remnants of the platform, both of them staring at the water and pelted with rain. Now the cuff was gone, and Lucia was trapped on a boat with a werewolf about to go crazy. “What are we going to do?”
“I’m just fine, Lousha, doona fash yerself over me.”
“But it’s gone!”
“Oh, aye, and we canna break your vows. Nothing’s more important than that. Even the fact that I could’ve been killed!”
“You couldn’t have bought a backup cuff?” she demanded in a yell. “Had a spare in your bag?”
He bellowed back, “It never crossed my mind that I’d be battling a shape-shifter in the Amazon”—with an angry jab, he pointed out Damiãno’s deep bite on his arm—“and then wrestling with him underwater. Or that a giant caiman would drag him down, and he’d be snatching at me to take down with him. I barely got back to you! Maybe you’re wishing I dinna?”
