Accidentally in Love with…a God?(Accidentally Yours #1)(7)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“I don’t know. I guess—I thought, maybe, I really was going crazy this time. And honestly, I can’t understand them. But I’ve been able to pick out different pitches, kind of like instruments in an orchestra. They all sound like bees. Busy, buzzing bees. I think there are eleven.”

There was a long silence. Then he said, “Sometimes after traumatic experiences, the human brain becomes hypersensitive, and yours is already like a giant satellite dish—one of the reasons you hear me—the noise is probably static, perhaps resulting from your head injury.”

I let out a sigh of relief. Yes, that’s what it has to be. Besides, the noise hadn’t been nearly as bad as during that first week. In fact, most days I didn’t even notice them.

“Guy?”

“You’re not going to tell me some other secret, such as you now shoot fire from your eyes?”

“No.” I snickered and ran my hand through my tangled curls.

“That you’re madly in love with me and want to spend eternity listening to the sound of my manly, seductive voice?”

Yes. Definitely, yes, I thought instantly. Some days, I wanted to bath in it. Wait! No! “I want to be alone the rest of the night. I need to think."

“Yes, you should rest, my sweet. It’s the least I could do for the woman I…”

I waited for him to finish the sentence.

Silence.

“The woman you…what?”

“Goodnight, my sweet Emma.”

Ugh. “Night.”

I finished packing in blissful silence and then took a long hot shower, trying to focus my thoughts away from the trembling in the pit in my stomach. Instead, I basked in visions of my life after he’d be gone. Dates, real conversations, going to the bathroom without wearing my iPod so he couldn’t hear anything. God, I could practically taste my new life. I knew the moment I freed him, his hold over my heart—and other body parts—would sever. I’d finally be free. And then maybe, just maybe, I could confront the neglected skeletons in my closet, like getting over losing my grandmother. A thought never far from my mind.

Chapter FIVE

1940. Bacalar, Mexico.

“He’s mine!” screamed a woman off in the distance. “I saw him first!”

“Over my dead body!” screamed another. “I’m the oldest. He’s mine!”

Several more female voices chimed in, all speaking an ancient Mayan dialect. The voices turned into a blur of death threats and hisses. Slaps and grunts echoed through the air.

“Stop! All of you,” a deep older male voice commanded.

“My brothers found the stranger,” screamed the first female. “He’s mine!”

“Have you lost your minds?” the male scorned. “He is the stranger who took Itzel. He’s dangerous. Go warn the others to stay away while I take care of this.”

Must get out of here, thought Votan as the footsteps approached. Females tended to go crazy when in his presence; it was a natural reaction to his otherworldly energy. He moved to sit up, but a sharp pain in his head and a warm hand placed firmly on his bare chest prevented him.

“No. You are not well. Lie still,” the male commanded.

Disoriented and groggy, Votan finally eased open his eyes, taking note of the dull aches blanketing his body. Bright light poured through the cracks of the walls, but it was the rocking motion that prevented his eyes from immediately focusing. He was lying in a hammock, which he unequivocally hated; hammocks were quite possibly the worst sleeping contraption since the pea-shuck filled sacks of the 1400’s.

“Wh-where am I?” Votan stuttered, unable to fully control his mouth.

“You are in my village.” The old man smiled stiffly. “I am Petén.” The muscles of his face moved under his aged skin, causing dark leathery wrinkles to gather around his eyes and mouth.

“How long have I—I been here?” Votan mumbled.

Petén, who only wore a pair of simple white cotton pants, sat down on a wooden stool in the corner and began picking his teeth with a small twig. “Some boys found you a few hours ago. Your head was split open by a rock, your back broken in two. But you’re healing quickly, as would be expected for…someone like you.”

Votan rubbed the back of his head, feeling a mammoth knot and a slimy wetness in his long hair. He then noticed a brightly colored sarong wrapped around his waist. His chest had also been decorated with red and black paint. Votan cocked one brow and looked back at the old man.

Petén shrugged. “The women seem to have gotten carried away when they cleaned your wound.”

Votan craned his neck and moved his eyes over the small dirt-floor hut.

Petén cleared his throat. “We weren’t expecting you, again.”

“I’ve never been here.” At least, this is what he believed, though the fall had clearly disoriented him. Damned human bodies. So weak!

Petén spoke of another male with a similar appearance and set of turquoise eyes who came through the cenote many years ago. The man demanded several young women, virgins, for sacrifice. When the village refused, the stranger scorned them, warning they’d be punished. The very next day, the entire village fell sick, and the man returned.

“Against my wishes,” Petén explained. “My cousin, Itzel, who was just nineteen at the time, volunteered to go with him. The man took her, and the village was cured.”

The story of the virgins set off alarm bells in Votan’s brain. So did the description of the male.

Votan nodded for Petén to continue.

“She came back several months after, changed. Her mind scarred. We thought, perhaps, you were the man, returning for her.”

“No. I am not that man, nor am I here for the woman.” But everything just became much more complex. Only a handful of males had a similar appearance to his, and if any were stealing women, he had a much bigger problem on his hands.

“So then?” Petén asked.

It was clear Petén knew he was not human, but the gods did not discuss their matters openly with anyone except the Uchben. The Uchben meant “ancient” in Mayan, and like their name implied, they’d been around for centuries, acting as the gods’ human eyes, ears, and muscle. They were a secret society of highly educated and fiercely loyal people deployed throughout the world. Right now, Votan was kicking himself for not having alerting them to his trip, but there hadn’t been time.

“I am just passing through.” A sharp pain suddenly racked Votan’s head. He winced and moaned.