Accidentally…Cimil? (Accidentally Yours #4.5)(28)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“No! You idiot!” I barked.

“What then?” he asked.

“Tell him!” Other-me barked.

“I will. Just shut your clown hole!” I screamed toward the front seat.

Roberto’s strong hand latched onto mine. “Cimil?”

Shit. Shit. Camel shit. “I had another vision. In less than eight months, the gods still turn on humanity.” I sighed. “I’m sorry, my love. But we’ve failed. Somehow I’ve managed to bring destruction to the world anyway.”

“But I thought you were making very nice progress with finding their mates. Kinich, Chaam, Votan, and, soon, Ixtab.”

“I didn’t move fast enough. That still leaves nine.”

“Are you certain?” he asked.

I bobbed my head.

Roberto gazed straight ahead at the dark road. I could see from the way his jaw pulsed that some very serious plotting was happening. “Never fear, my dear goddess.” He stroked the back of my head. “I will figure something out. I will save us.”

“Why are you always so sure of yourself?” I asked.

“I managed to finally rid the planet of Philippe and the Obscuros while making a very deep dent in the Maaskab population. Why should I not be confident in my skills of undoing your treachery?”

Good point. He had done a magnificent job of playing his cards. He’d known that I had encouraged the Maaskab and the Obscuros to join forces recently—a truly evil union. Once the Maaskab had “vampirized” most of their population, Roberto hunted down Philippe. The moment his brother died, his bloodline went with him, including most of the O’Scabbies (aka the Obscuro Maaskab).

I bobbed my head. “It’s not you that I’m worried about. It’s the Universe.” Everything I’d done—bad-good, good-bad—had been pointless. She still wanted blood.

“She is no match for me,” he declared boldly.

“How sure are you exactly?”

He bowed his head. “Very. Otherwise, I would not say such a thing. I do not believe in fluffery.”

“I want to believe you. I do. But this feels so much bigger than the two of us. Like that elephant with three heads we once saw at the circus.” I sighed. That elephant was so magical. Reminded me of Minky, minus a head. “But your words can’t change destiny.”

He looked toward the dark road, thinking for a moment. “Very well. Then I shall use no words until I have delivered my promise. I shall not speak again until this is over.”

Wow. He really was committed. Because a man keeping his mouth shut was like a fish not swimming. Or a sea turtle not reciting illicit, kinky poems about sparkly things. (Don’t ask.)

“You would really do that?” I asked.

“I love you. And love is stronger than the Universe, than destiny, than anything,” he whispered.

Gods, I hoped he was right. “I love you, too. Can we hit some garage sales in the morning? I need a little pick-me-up.”

“But of course,” he said. “After I take Minky for her morning ride.”