Accidentally…Evil? (Accidentally Yours #3.5)(14)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

A tiny fissure opened in her heart as she thought of him suffering for an eternity. Maybe he didn’t love her. She didn’t know. But he needed her, and she loved him.

Yes. The situation was pure insanity. One big loco-sombrero.

She’d met a man in the jungle today who wasn’t really a man. She became his prisoner, then his lover. Now she loved him.

Insanity.

And it didn’t matter if he loved her back; she would give her loco-sombrero to ensure he never suffered again.

“What if the other gods say no?” she asked.

Her backhanded acceptance sparked a glorious smile on her god’s face. “They will not. Asking permission is customary—an offering to their egos. Once those are satisfied, they will not stand in our way.”

“Are they like you?”

He laughed. “Yes and no. We are all unique, although my brothers, Votan and Zac, are physically similar to me when in their human forms, so I will warn you now not to get any ideas.”

As if she could ever look at another man—errr—deity.

“I want you. Just you,” she said.

Chaam kissed her, and his joy washed over her like a burst of warm sunshine.

“And you shall have me,” he said.

“Will I?” She slid her hands around his waist and leaned in. She couldn’t get enough of him or his wickedly sweet smell. And now that she’d accepted who he was, what he was, his grandness felt magnified somehow. Maybe because she understood all that he’d done, all that he’d sacrificed for humanity.

But did he know the world was an infinitely better place because he was part of it? The first chance she had, she would tell him.

But for the time being…

Chaam laid her down on the dock and hovered over her. His silhouette against the night sky was awe-inspiring. With his mouth he sought for her neck and swept her hair to one side. As he did, the necklace she wore became tangled in her wet mane and pulled uncomfortably on a few strands at her nape. She gave the chain a little tug and it broke free, but not before ripping a clump of hair out with it.

She screamed as scorching, searing pain ripped through her. She fell to the side, writhing in agony. Had her body been torn into two?

“Maggie!” She heard Chaam screaming in some dark corner of her mind. “Maggie. Speak to me!”

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move. She was going to die this very moment, and now he would suffer for eternity.

Blackness.

Chapter 6

November 2, 1934 (Day of the Dead)

Chaam stared at Maggie’s immobile body stretched across the dock. What the hell just happened?

He dropped to his knees and placed his ear over her heart. The organ thrummed for two blissful seconds and then produced a choppy monstrosity of sound reminiscent of a cat walking across the keys of a piano.

He jerked his head up and then lowered it again, hovering just above her chest. The heartbeat returned to normal.

He repeated the act of touching her and breaking contact twice more. Each time produced the same result. Until he placed the necklace over her stomach.

Christ, no. This cannot be.

Maggie began to stir. “Chaam?” she asked with a bleary voice.

He resisted having a very unmanly display of hysterics. “Thank the gods, you’re all right.”

She sat up and rubbed her red eyes. It was nearly dawn now, the sky a brilliant pallet of pinks and lavenders. “What happened?”

His relief and shock shifted to wrath. “This happened.” He held up the tiny teardrop-shaped black stone mounted on a smooth silver plaque.

She reached for the vacant spot on her neck.

“Where did you get this?” he demanded.

“Why are you angry?”

He crouched and touched her arm.

“Ouch!” She jerked away.

“Who are you?” he demanded.

“But I don’t understa—”

“Tell me!” he screamed.

She held out her palms. “Chaam. You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“The Maaskab sent you, didn’t they? You were sent to destroy me.”

Maggie choked down the thick lump of dread stuck in her throat. One moment she’d been basking in Chaam’s warmth and affection, the next she was lying on the dock, her insides charred. To top it off, she’d woken to a completely different Chaam. This version was cold, furious, and deadly.

Why? And what was this thing—a maskib?—he’d accused her of being?

“Get dressed.” He tossed the dress to her side. She noticed he now wore his white trousers.

She quickly stood and slipped her dress over her head while her mind bounced against a brick wall. She didn’t know what to do. Run perhaps? Something told her that would only make matters worse.

Reason with him. “You need to explain why you are upset.”

“Upset? Gods don’t get upset, Maggie. We get furious, and then we exact our justice.” Terrifying rage flickered in his eyes.

“What did I do?” She stepped back.

“Don’t play stupid. This sort of dark power can only come from one place.” He held up the necklace.

He’s angry over that? “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My father gave it to me.”

“And where did he obtain it? Tell me!” He grabbed her arms. The contact sent tiny shards of hot glass charging through her veins.

She jerked way, gasping in pain. “I don’t know. The ruin, I guess. Why?” She used the air in her lungs to straighten her spine.

He brought his nose to hers and snarled like a monster. “Tell them that they will all burn in hell. The Maaskab will never defeat us. They will never have this world.”

“What are you talking about?” she said.

He stilled for several moments. “Never mind. I will tell them myself. I’m sure your father will know where to find them.”

He turned away and marched off into the jungle.

“No! You’re going to hurt him!” Oh my God! Oh my God. “No! Please, please don’t do this!”

She ran after him but found herself alone in the middle of a stand of trees, without shoes, without knowing where she was going, without knowing how everything had gone so wrong.

She sank to her knees. Why had he turned on her?

Chaam stormed into the brush, pushing down tree after tree to release his anger. How could he have been such a fool? To pathetically believe Maggie was his mate, sent by the universe.

Pathetic f**king fool. Maggie was just an ordinary human with a Maaskab necklace. Well, he surmised it was Maaskab. Those evil bastards had been around since the dawn of the Mayan era. Originally, they had been run-of-the-mill priests. But where there is power to be had, evil always lurks. Centuries of quiet power struggles had eventually led to their outright bloodshed and decimation of the population. Those who could, escaped, and the Mayan civilization collapsed.