Accidentally…Over? (Accidentally Yours #5)(2)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“Okay.” She stomped her foot. “I’ll say it: You rock. You’re the most awesome vampire ever to walk the planet.”

Roberto crossed his powerful arms over his broad chest. “Aaaand?”

Cimil huffed like a crabby four-year-old. “And if the apocalypse is halted, I vow to have your love child.” Maybe. “And I will keep my vow to marry you.” Maybe.

He displayed a set of gleaming white fangs, grinning from ear to ear. “And we will not fail, Cimil. Just as you are predisposed for destruction, I am predisposed for victory. Don’t ever doubt that.”

It was true. Although Roberto was a vampire, really the king and father of all vampires, he truly was an unrelenting force for good. Yes, yes, and victory. The damn man never failed at anything. She, on the other hand? It was a little known fact that the Universe had wired her to be the bringer of destruction—aka the apocalypse—but that didn’t mean she wasn’t good. Right? For thousands of years, she fought her nature, always doing the exact opposite of what her instincts dictated. Okay. Didn’t work out so great; they were all going to die in seven months. But still, she’d tried. And now, Roberto insisted if they worked together, they could turn everything around.

Pfff… Yeah. Right. They had a ninety-nine point nine-nine-nine-nine-nine-nine… nine percent chance of failing. In fact, she was ready to throw in the towel and party, enjoy these final months of existence. But she did love Roberto. And she did want to make him happy. Letting him have this one last battle meant a lot to her crusty, old ex-pharaoh. Okay, she had other reasons, too. But those were not for sharing aloud. Not even with herself. After all, she was evil and not to be trusted.

“Ah! And here comes my first step toward victory now.” Roberto glimpsed at the prison entrance.

One by one, Roberto’s vampire soldiers dragged the unconscious deities and several of their mates inside the surrounding glass-walled holding cells. Why? Well, she’d told Roberto about the visions she’d had: The gods finally lose their marbles—damned marbles, always getting lost like a rabid flock of zombie sheep!—and end up fighting each other. Then boom! Over! Done! Planet bye-bye.

Solution? They’d subdued the gods right in the middle of a summit meeting by filling the room with a harmless yet powerful gas made especially for the occasion. Not such a bad plan except, well, imprisoning the gods to keep them from going to battle with each other was a Band-Aid. They needed to permanently alter the trajectory of their paths. That’s where Máax, the God of Truth, would come in.

She hoped. Or maybe she didn’t. Who knew?

Damn, I love being me. Especially right now.

“Boy, are they going to be peeved when they wake up.” How fun!

Roberto flicked his wrist in a casual kingly sort of way. “I care not if your brethren feel angry. I simply want sex, as you prom—”

“Cimil! What is the meaning of this?” Máax’s deep voice boomed inside the institutional-style structure.

Ah! Right on schedule.

“Showtime,” Cimil whispered under her breath. “Hey, Máax baby! Now, before you get your mankini in a bunch—you are wearing underwear, aren’t you? It’s kinda hard to tell, with you being invisible and all.”

Poor guy. He’d had his mortal shell confiscated oodles of moons ago as part of a major deity spanking (aka punishment). He’d violated several divine laws, including repeatedly breaking the ban on time travel. All for good reasons, but still, he’d landed himself the precarious title of the El Gran Bad Boy.

“Cimil! Why have you betrayed us?” Máax’s voice radiated just to Roberto’s left, outside her cell.

Because you’re about to have your world rocked, and I’m so gonna enjoy watching?

Cimil cleared her throat. “There is a perfectly good explanation. And you will notice that I, too, am caged! So, it’s not like I’m—”

“You are exactly where you should be, Cimil,” Máax growled. “You will release the others immediately, or I will remove your mate’s pinkies. With a rusty nail. Or perhaps, a power washer—”

“Yikes! Okay. I get the point Dr. Franken-ewww. But I can’t release them.” She smiled sweetly, hoping to win points.

“I’ve already alerted the Uchben army; you will not get away with this,” Máax warned.

“Ha! You think we didn’t expect that?” Roberto had seen to it that nothing, nothing would get in the way of this plan. In fact, Cimil had to hand it to him; Roberto was more impressive than the new unicorn tat on her bum. “Why do you think we rounded up the entire vampire army for this occasion? They’re right outside.”

“You lie,” Máax said. “The vampire army is on mandatory furlough at Euro Disney. I can’t believe I just said that. Sounds so f**king ridiculous.”

But it was true. On both counts. In accordance with ancient law, all vampires had been sent away on an obligatory, one-year vacation in celebration of the recent extermination of all evil vampires. Obviously, they chose the happiest place on earth for this vacation. After thousands of years battling evil, who wouldn’t? Of course, no one knew that Roberto had made up this ridiculous “ancient” law in an effort to gather them up in one place without rousing suspicion, only to redeploy them here for today’s special event.

Cimil gloated. “What can I say? Roberto’s the man. And by man, I mean he’s really awesome. ’Cause he’s not a man, but a vampire—my vampire. Did I tell you how he rocks my world? Did I? Huh? Huh? Hu—”

Roberto hit the floor with a thud. He clawed at his neck, gasping for air.

“Máax! No! Let him go!” Cimil wailed. “Dammit, you overly spunky, nudist deity! Let me explain.”

Roberto grunted when something punched his nose. Máax’s fist? Blood trickled from Roberto’s face, and he winced in pain.

“You have exactly three seconds, Cimil, or I will remove his head,” Máax roared.

“Wait!” Cimil pleaded. “How did we go from pinkies to heads? You skipped arms and kidneys. What about earlobes?”

“Speak, you batshit crazy wench!”

Roberto’s vampire soldiers gathered around, but Cimil waved them back. They knew to obey her, no matter what, despite who wore the kingly britches.

“All right, but you’re not going to like this.” She cracked her knuckles. “Truth is, in about seven months, the gods destroy the planet. We get into some war with each other. I have done everything possible to change course, but I failed. Miserably. Locking us up is the only way to make sure that doesn’t happen.”