Accidentally…Evil? (Accidentally Yours #3.5)(10)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Her insides twisted into a knot of anticipation.

Another button.

And another.

She swallowed.

“Lovely.” He ran his callused fingertips over the swells of her half-exposed br**sts, and strummed those taut ropes, which braced her sails, like the strings of a guitar.

His hand stopped. “And what is this?”

It was a necklace. She hadn’t removed it since the day her father—Christ! Her father!

She stepped back and fisted shut the open panels of her dress. “There’s something I have to tell you.” She instinctively knew there could be no secrets between them.

Oh God. I’ve gone insane. Haven’t I? I can’t believe this is all happening.

Chaam closed the gap between them. “Can it wait? If it’s about the species question, I assure you I do not care. I would still want you even if you were part chupacabra.”

What the flapjack is a chupacabra?

She shook her head no. “My father is missing. That’s why I was in the jungle. And as much as I want to do this with you—as incredibly insane as that is—which I won’t argue with because you are clearly, clearly something different, and I am clearly, clearly not ever going to get you out of my system or head or life because I did see the vision, and it was… wow… and now I’ve gone all goofy for you—but I have to find him.”

“Goofy? I assume this means you desire me?”

She nodded.

“Is the desire deep and consuming?”

She nodded again.

Chaam gloated with a smirk, just a little. “How long has he been missing?”

“Three days. And he hasn’t been well.”

“I assume you’re referring to his mental state?”

She nodded.

“Am I in time for s’mores?”

Chaam shoved Maggie behind him and then groaned with relief. “For f**k’s sake, Cimil, how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me?”

“Five thousand, two hundred, and twenty-two,” Cimil said. “Only six thousand, three hundred and fifty more times to go before I listen!”

Maggie immediately recognized the strange redhead, only now she wore a mariachi outfit, complete with dazzling sombrero. A loco-sombrero, of course.

“Funny. Mind telling me what the hell you’re doing here?” Chaam asked.

“What? Can’t a goddess of the underworld go for a leisurely stroll in the jungle for a little fresh air without having any hidden agendas, especially ones having to do with mischief, mayhem, and world domination?”

“No,” Chaam replied.

Maggie felt strangely relieved that Chaam didn’t seem particularly fond of the bizarre woman, because she sure as hell scared the crap out of Maggie.

“She said she was looking for you when I saw her earlier,” Maggie whispered over Chaam’s shoulder.

Chaam glanced at Maggie. “You already met my sister?”

Maggie nodded, but actually wanted to wince or make some sort of sour face to express her complete distaste of this woman he called his sister. “Uh-huh. She came out of the lake when I was stuck on the dock.”

Chaam whispered, “What did she say?”

“Only the truth, brother,” Cimil spouted. “Maggie is your destiny.”

Chaam growled. “You’re up to something. I know it.” He pointed toward the dock. “You. There. Now.”

Cimil rolled her eyes and then began marching. “Gods. They’re so bossy,” she whispered as she passed Maggie.

“No, he’s perfect,” Maggie hissed. Surprisingly, she didn’t appreciate anyone badmouthing Chaam.

“Oh, you just wait,” Cimil replied and trailed behind her brother to the dock.

While Maggie buttoned her dress, Chaam and his sister had an intense conversation. Not that Maggie could see their faces in the dark, but the water did a nice job of carrying their voices. Maggie had never heard the f-word so many times. She’d need to talk to Chaam about his abrasive, ungentlemanly vocabulary later. For the time being, however, she listened intently as Cimil swore over and over again that she hadn’t come to collect any—shit! Had she said “souls”?

“You f**king expect me to believe you’re here for fun?” Chaam asked Cimil.

“Yes! I heard about that cricket, and well, I… dammit, Chaam! You know what happened with Alberto. I completely overreacted. I’ve been searching for him ever since.”

“That should teach you not to turn humans into insects. And that should really teach you not to set them free in the jungle!”

Oh, my lord, Maggie thought. They can’t be serious.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him,” Cimil said. “I merely wanted to teach him a lesson for spending all his time with that little slut!”

“Cimil! She was his sister. She was his sick sister! Have you no compassion?”

Long pause. “Is this a trick question?” Cimil asked.

“Never mind,” he replied. “I am calling in that favor you owe me.”

“Now?” she whined.

“Yes.” Chaam’s voice softened to a whisper too low for Maggie to hear.

After several moments, the two returned to the fire. “Maggie, Cimil has kindly agreed to look for your father, so if you could—”

“What? You’re sending her?” Maggie asked.

Cimil hissed. “Watch it, cupcake. I may look crazy, but I’m actually… actually, yeah. I’m crazy. I mean, you have no idea.” She snorted.

Maggie suddenly realized that Cimil must’ve been the one Chaam had spoken of earlier; the god who’d tried to take lovers and lost her mind.

Chaam pulled Maggie to the side. “Leaving you here alone is not an option; there are many dangers in this jungle. So either she goes or I go.”

Maggie certainly didn’t want to stay alone with crazy-hat over there. “I see.”

Chaam cupped her face. His hands were warm and rough, and as inappropriate as it was given the situation, Maggie couldn’t help but notice that sweet tension coiling right on cue.

He threaded one hand through her hair and kissed her quickly. “I knew you would see it my way. Besides, you and I have some unfinished begging to attend to.”

After Maggie gave her father’s description and the approximate location of the excavation site, Chaam spent a full ten minutes describing Cimil’s fate in explicit detail right down to her crazy cuticles if she didn’t find Maggie’s father pronto.