Accidentally in Love with…a God?(Accidentally Yours #1)(61)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

This man was so going on my Christmas card list.

“Son of bitch. I’m going to break his legs, then yours Emma!”

“Yep,” I said cheerfully to Gabrán. “He heard ya.”

Chapter THIRTY-THREE

I watched with fascination as the dozen soldiers moved with silent precision, loading the sleek camouflaged jet inside the private hanger. They glanced at each other, but didn’t speak. Were they reading each other’s thoughts?

Lifting crates, carrying duffel bags filled with gear, and securing equipment, everyone knew exactly what to do and where to stand at the precise moment for maximum efficiency. Within twenty minutes, we were up in the air and on our way. They even remembered to bring my guns—empty, of course—to teach me how to use them.

Within one hour, the shades were shut, lights were out, and the men simultaneously closed their eyes, going into some disturbing group naptime. The air buzzed with their energy. Very unsettling.

“What are they doing?” I whispered to Gabrán, who was the only one awake, busily reviewing topographical maps on his laptop in the seat next to me.

“’Tis the way the men prepare for fightin’,” he responded quietly. “The ancient Seido mediation of the Japanese warrior. Clears the mind.”

The Uchben were like a giant melting pot of rituals and traditions, technologies and science, and culture and wealth. “You Uchben seem very…eclectically resourceful.”

“It’s our way. We come from many countries and different t—” he stopped to catch himself from saying something.

“What?” I prodded.

As if wondering if he could trust me, he turned his head and gave me a quick once over, sizing me up. “Our strength comes from adopting the best of everything the world has to offer regardless of when, or where it was created.”

The answer sounded airbrushed; he’d landed on not-trusting me.

“Emma. Tell the chief something’s going on outside.”

“What?” I asked.

“It doesn’t sound good. But, at least we know there are still loyal men out there fighting. But gods, I can’t see shit.”

I grabbed Gabrán’s arm. “Something’s happening.”

“I think some of the men are attacking the Maaskab outside the cenote.”

I relayed to Gabrán then asked, “How much longer until we’re there?”

“This is the fastest plane we have—nine hours at best.”

“Guy?”

“I heard. There’s nothing you can do, Emma. I’ll keep you posted if I see anything.”

I sat back in the chair and tried to mimic the sedate-looking men around me, but every nerve in my body was firing on all cylinders. I had no clue what I was going to do when I got to Bacalar, and seeing these well trained Uchben, who acted like we were going to a day spa—yes, that relaxed—well, it struck me that I’d be getting in the way. Was I out of my ever-loving mind? Just because I could exude some preternatural energy that shocked people, didn’t mean I could fight a Maaskab or kill another person. But a part of me, the irrational side, needed this. I needed to fight. For me. For my family. For grandmother. For those women.

I got up and went into the tiny bathroom. Déjà vu. My airplane conference room. “Guy. What am I going to do?”

“About what?” he answered.

“I should have listened to you. It’s obvious that me going there’s a mistake. But I couldn’t sit back and let this play out while I stayed in my cozy room. It’s not right.”

“I know.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Worried, yes. Mad, no.”

“You always surprise me. You’re so different now. I would have expected you’d be yelling at me, or telling me how stupid I am.”

“As much as I’d like to do that, it wouldn’t help increase your odds of survival.”

“Why couldn’t you have been like this when you used to be in my head? You were never this calm.”

“Actually, I was.”

Oh right. Guy was to calm as Emma Keane was to war. “Then why? You were so explosive and controlling all those years?”

“Normally, my behavior is a result of my unbelievable arrogance or insensitivity towards others, but in your case it was all about strategy.”

“A straight forward answer would be nice for once.”

“If I’d filled your ears with sweet, kind words, you would have never toughened up. I knew that someday you might be the one to free me. In fact, I think I always knew it would be you since no one had come for me. I had to make myself so irritating that you’d do anything—risk anything—to extract me from your life. Like a painful splinter. Of course, I’d planned to wait until you were old enough to travel alone and strong enough to make the journey, but you sped things along with your little deviation.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? I might have believed you—helped you. And it wouldn’t have caused me so much pain.”

He was about to comment, but stopped. Maybe being the God of War trained him to think in terms of dominating the opposition, not asking for help.

“I could not risk it. You were my only ticket to freedom.”

I was stunned by the bluntness and lack of sentiment in his words. Had I simply been the only tool in his chest? A means to an end? But then, why didn’t he change his behavior after I released him. He still acted like a jealous, possessive, controlling boyfriend.

“What about Tommaso?” I asked. “Why did you attack him at the villa? You were already free.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“The bond. It makes me feel overly protective.”

“Oh.” One by one, the tiny pieces slid into place. The way he’d deprived me of any male relationships and enticed me with his seductive voice. He’d been slowly manipulating me, working me into position where I’d risk everything to either see him or be free from him. And afterward, once he’d been released, his bouts of jealously were a result of the bond.

“So the bond makes you feel territorial. Like I was just some stupid bone to fight over,” I said, feeling completely deflated.

“Yes. I’m sorry if it caused you any pain.”

“And what happened between us yesterday morning?”

“Emma, I wanted to talk about this later—in person.”

“No. Now! I want the truth.”