Accidentally…Over? (Accidentally Yours #5)(36)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Really, man? You’re invisible. Powerless. An outcast.

Okay. Fuck the Universe. This was pure selfishness. He wanted to save Ashli because it would make him happy. Yes, let his brethren figure out how to save the world for once. He was through sacrificing everything for them and everyone else. Enough was enough.

“Tell her,” Brutus prodded, “what will happen if you take her forward with you.”

Ashli blinked expectantly, her gaze toggling between Brutus and Máax’s… well, his neck really. “What will happen?”

The truth nearly bubbled from Máax’s lips, but then something clicked. Something a tad sinister.

He’d never lied. Not once in his entire existence. Telling the truth was simply who he was. Even after being stripped of his powers, he’d never so much as tested the waters or second-guessed the value of the truth. The truth—speaking it, exposing it to light, knowing when he was in its absence—was simply who he was. But now, everything hung in the balance. If he did not lie to her, she would stay. She would die. He simply couldn’t have that.

So now the filthy, nasty question stared him down, challenging him like an outlaw from the Old West, daring him to reach for his gun. Was he brave enough to pull the trigger? Could he lie, thereby sacrificing himself, the essence of who he truly was, to save her?

Draw.

Máax cleared his throat. “I do not know what Brutus speaks of.”

Brutus made a strange sound somewhere between a growl and a gasp. “I can’t believe it. You’re lying. You just told me that Cimil gave you strict instructions to leave her here.”

“Máax? Is it twue?” she asked.

Máax swallowed. “No. Brutus is mistaken. I said no such thing.” The lie felt like a tiny burr sticking inside his brain. It had been so easy to tell. Much too easy. But he instantly knew he’d never forget it.

Brutus’s jaw dropped. “He—he’s lying. I don’t f**king believe it.”

“But isn’t Máax incapable of wying?” Ashli argued.

Brutus ran his hands though his dark, short hair. “Well—well—yes, but.…”

Ashli shook her head. “I don’t know whath’s going on between you thwo, but—”

“Ashli,” Máax said, “it is quite simple; you will die if you stay here. If you come with me, I can fix this.”

“But wha about my houws? My café?” She continued holding a corner of the towel to her mouth.

“Everything will be waiting for you”—he hoped—“only it will be twenty years into the future. Brutus will see to everything. Isn’t that right, Brutus?”

Brutus still looked like he’d been run over by a bus, a giant bus of festering lies. “Yes, but—”

“Okay,” Ashli blurted out. “I’ll do it.”

Brutus snarled. “You’re making a mistake, Ashli. Stay here with me. I will ensure your safety.”

“I don think anyone can save me if I stay. I wan to go wit Máax. I’m sowwy.”

Máax’s ego did a little cheer. Not a pom-pom cheer, but a triumphant warrior–like cheer, just to be clear. She wanted to be with him. She wanted to be with him.

Great. Now what?

You’ll have to figure it out.

Damn. What the hell was he doing?

I’m hoping Cimil is wrong about her prophecy.

Fourteen

Sun setting to her back, Ashli stared out across the lapping sapphire-blue waves, having never felt so petrified in her life. It wasn’t the moving ahead a few decades that necessarily bothered her, though that certainly got an award for bizarre and unusual, but the conversation between Brutus and Máax had bumped her anxiety up a few notches. It didn’t help that she also continued to feel out of sorts, all tingly and such. Probably a result of almost dying yet again.

So why hadn’t Máax proposed his solution to begin with? And if Brutus worked for the gods, then why would he challenge Máax like that? Something didn’t sit right. Especially that bit about Brutus becoming so protective. The look of wrath on his face when he’d stormed from her house left her more mystified than ever. What had she done wrong? And why did it bother her? Probably because Brutus had saved her life, and it meant something to her. Just as it meant something that Máax had saved her, too.

Gods, caring about people is so hard. She almost cared too much.

“Are you ready, Ashli?” Máax’s warm, rough hand covered hers, jarring her from her uneasy contemplation. “Come.” He positioned her directly under a palm tree that stood a few yards from her back porch. “You must stand directly above the magical tablet I have buried here.”

Really? Really? Did he just say “magical tablet”? Maybe he parked it next to his sister’s magical unicorn.

Well, consider yourself lucky. At least he’s not whipping out the DeLorean and asking you to hold a lightning rod.

“Sure,” she replied, “weady as I’ll evew be.” Damn, her tooth hurt. She hoped there was a good dentist in town twenty years into the future.

“Excellent. I am taking you straight to our cenote about two hundred kilometers from here; I need to make a quick stop.”

Whoa. “What? I thought we were staying hew.” A few decades into the future, yes, but here. Here was important.

“I don’t have time to explain; however, I promise we will return to your home after I take care of something.”

Her hands trembled. “Máax, I’m not weally weady for all of this. It’s too much. Can we just take it one step at a time?”

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. Probably more of that annoying Latin. “No. I am sorry, Ashli. Normally, I would default to being a gentleman—Okay, perhaps not—I would probably insist. As I am about to do now.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because there is something important I must do,” he said in a soft, reassuring voice, then gently brushed her cheek. “There is nothing to fear. I promise.”

Well, if he said so. Right? After all, the guy was the God of Truth. If he said, “Nothing to fear,” then he meant it.

But then why did her stomach signal otherwise?

“Time to go.” Máax firmly gripped her hand, sending a shock wave of tingles charging through her body. Still, her cold feet seemed unable to move. Before she mustered a protest, the sand beneath her feet began to vibrate and hiss. A dark manhole-sized fissure opened in front of them. She tipped her body forward and peered inside the vertical wind tunnel. It swirled with bits of debris and sand on the surface, but there was no bottom, nothing inside. Just darkness.