Accidentally Married to…a Vampire?(Accidentally Yours #2)(4)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

But he wouldn’t fail. He was the strongest warrior the vampire world had ever known. He had fought and won thousands of battles, upheld the Pact, and maintained the peace between the gods and vampires for a thousand years. This would be a stroll through the park…or jungle. Whatever.

“It’s much better than I’d hoped for,” he stated coolly.

Cimil’s eyes lit up. “All right then. Oh, and there’s one more thing…”

***

Cimil waved her hands and watched the vampire collapse to the ground. She poked him several times in the chest, checking to make sure he was out cold.

“Buon, Niccolo DiConti,” she said, perfectly imitating his deep voice. “Your mate will not be born for, oh, say, about three hundred years, and I have to entomb you in the meantime. Otherwise, you won’t live to see another full moon. Did you know your paranoid, sorry excuse of a queen fears your strength and plans to kill you? Crazy shrew. I wish I could take her out myself. But nooo.” She shook her head.

The beautiful na**d vampire lay completely oblivious over a bed of leaves.

Cimil sighed. “You are such a scrumptious man-treat. How could anyone think of killing you? But I guarantee, after three hundred years, your queen will only be a teensy bit peeved by your absence, and she will have reconsidered her plot to murder you. You can thank me later.”

She leaned down and pressed her mouth to his full lips and then ran her finger along his chiseled jaw.

“Come, my handsome vampire. I have a few things I must do to prepare you. Then I’ll put you somewhere safe to await your bride. Oh—I know!” She clapped excitedly. “You can stay inside my piggy bank! And I’ll create a drama-tastic jungle intro to your lady! How about Romancing the Stone meets Apocalypto?”

She flung the na**d giant over her shoulder and gave him a loving pat on his bottom. “Watching you two will be so much fun! I might have to charge the other gods admission to this show when the time comes.”

Chapter 1

Present Day. México.

Arms pumping, Helena Strauss chased the smoke-spewing bus down a narrow dirt road through the jungle. “Wait! I’m here! Wait!”

She suddenly sucked in a mouthful of gnats and then gagged and stumbled. She hacked violently, almost losing the remnants of her meager lunch: crackers and apple juice. She doubled over to catch her breath, cursing with every exhale as her ride evaporated right before her watering eyes.

“Dammit. God-effing dammit! Worst vacation, ever!”

She’d left her backpack on that bus—wallet, cellphone, water and all—with the nice retired Tucson woman with the straw hat and orange muumuu. Helena had clearly told the driver she’d only be “un minuto” before she hopped off at the last second; she needed to use the facilities one more time before the three-hour drive back to her hotel south of Cancun. With the sweltering heat and gallons of water she’d downed to keep cool, Helena had spent more time seeing the restroom than the ruins. Muumuu woman even asked when Helena was expecting.

Seriously?

Okay, she did look a little plumper these days—comfort food and lots of it—despite all the exercise. But pregnancy was last on her worry-list. I’d need to have a boyfriend, or at the very least, have had sex. Once.

Well, today, that was the least of her problems. Now she’d been left behind without pesos or bug spray, and that rotten bus had been the last tour of the day.

Helena looked up. The sun was already seated behind the thick tree line, and the sky was a deep-burnt orange, veined with shades of purple and gray. Oh, hell! Almost night.

She doubled over again, her head spinning and waves of nausea washing over her. She’d been feeling odd and unable to think straight ever since she’d arrived at the remote ruins.

Montezuma, perhaps?

Everyone kept warning her last night not to have the Mega-Margarita with lots of crushed ice, but she figured the tequila would kill any micro-critters in the water.

Not the mighty amoeba, she reminded herself. You studied evolutionary biology. You should know better.

But last night, she’d already had a few—okay, four—beers before the Big Gulp sized margarita came calling and she began howling to the bar crowd, “Who the heeell is this Montezuma bonehead, anyway!? If he wants revenge, bring it on!” The crowd cheered as she pounded down her drink and proceeded to get an apocalyptic brain-freeze.

Helena shook her head. If Darwin were alive, what would he say?

“Between last night and leaving your backpack on the bus,” she mumbled to no one, “you may actually be too stupid to live.”

Well, hopefully it was the heat making her woozy and lose her wits, not some Aztec gastric-curse.

After a moment, her blurry vision cleared. She slowly stood and then pivoted on her heel several times, turning her head from side to side. The road, encased by two walls of thick vegetation, looked the same in either direction.

Jungle. Jungle. More jungle. But, which way is the…? Oh, hell. This can’t be happening. How could she lose her bearings down a single-lane dirt road? The nausea had her completely disoriented.

“This way. The ruins and trinket shack are back this way.” She nodded toward the long stretch of road to her right and began walking. Intermittent waves of blurriness struck her as she trudged along the darkening road, twisting her ankle in an obscured pothole every few steps.

She stopped, scratching her sweaty neck with one hand while swatting the unrelenting mosquitoes with the other. “This can’t be happening. I think I’m going the wrong frigging way.”

Don’t panic, Helena. Just go back.

But something wasn’t right. She couldn’t think straight. And now she was panicking. She’d seen all the Indiana Jones movies, and only bad things happened when he went near jungles and ruins: voodoo priests, giant spiders…Germans—all sorts of scary things.

As darkness descended, fear continued hammering on the cracks of her rational mind. Even the critters had decided to ratchet up the volume. Great. A creepy nature soundtrack for my own personal nightmare.

“How about some Tomb Raider music, people!” she barked at the clicking bugs and hidden squawking animals. But only the shadows answered, suddenly taking on a life of their own— engulfing the trees, erasing any distinguishable textures and shapes. Leaves became blackness. Branches became blackness. The length of road disintegrated in front of her. The ominous night swallowed everything but her frantic breaths and the nose on her face.