Accidentally…Over? (Accidentally Yours #5)(50)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“Cimil!” he screamed, then looked at one of the vampire guards—not that the guard knew Máax was looking at him. “Open this cell right now. I’m going to snap her neck.”

“I think not.” Roberto stepped in toward Máax.

“Jeez.” Cimil rolled her eyes. “Since when did you become King Poopie-Doo of the party, Máax? I was just kidding.”

Máax had had enough. “Cimil, so help me—”

“I already know what you are going to ask; a dead little birdy told me. Can we stop the apocalypse? No. Well, maybe. I don’t know. According to my last vision, Ashli is in present day and in her forties when she stops the apocalypse, meaning she did not jump through the portal to get here.”

“Okay. Fine. Ashli is immortal now. So what do we do?” Máax asked.

“Hello! I told you not to introduce any additional variables because then we wouldn’t know what to do. Voilà! Here we are. As clueless as a teenage girl on prom night!”

“It doesn’t make any sense,” he grumbled. Cimil said that Ashli needed to live out her life normally. But he was certain, dead certain, that Ashli would not have survived.

“Hmmm.” Cimil jostled her head from side to side. “Yes, perhaps my snark was outdated. According to a very reliable source, Vampire Diaries, the females of this day and age are quite experienced by the time they get to prom.” She began tapping the side of her mouth. “Hmmm… I need a new snark. Clueless as a unicorn in a skateboard shop—”

“Cimil. Focus. Are you certain about what you saw in your vision? Because I promise, Ashli would not have lived another day had I not interfered,” he said.

“Yes, I told you Ashli was not twentysomething in my vision. She was much, much older.” Cimil sighed with fake sympathy. “But none of that matters now. You’ve brought her here. You made her immortal. You altered everything. And, yes! Before you ask, we are still on a path of destruction. That’s the one thing I know for sure. Oh! And here comes.…”

The structure shook with staggering turbulence for four long seconds. The steel beams inside the walls groaned and creaked.

“Number nine,” Cimil said to the now deathly silent room of immortals.

“Son of a bitch.” Máax scratched the thick growth of whiskers on his jaw. “There has to be another way to fix everything.”

Cimil stood and began playing with her cell phone. “Your guess is as good as mine, except on Fridays—”

“Cimil, can you not be serious, even for a moment?” he grumbled. “Especially given the situation?”

“Nope.” Cimil shoved the phone down the front of her shorts.

“What in gods’ name are you doing, Cimil?” Máax scowled.

“Yes, what are you doing?” Roberto asked.

“I’m taking a selfie of my privates. It’s called a privie. Here, want to see?” She held up the phone.

“No!” Máax turned away. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Mmmm…” Roberto groaned lightly. “I like.”

“Put the phone away, or I will come in there and beat you with it.” Máax was truly close to losing it.

“There! All gone!” She returned her phone to her pants and held up her empty hands. “So, where were we?” Cimil once again glanced over her shoulder toward the empty corner of her cell. “No one asked you, crazy coolots!”

Impossible. She is impossible.

“Cimil, what if we sent Ashli back?” Not that he would allow that, but it was an answer he needed to know.

Her index finger shot up. “Ah! Now, there’s an interesting idea. Would the Universe accept Ashli as an offering? A tragedy for our triumph. A yin for a yang. Let me think that through. You’ve fallen in love with her so if she were to die,” Cimil mumbled to herself, “it would be a true romantic tragedy, old-school style. Like big Romeo and Little J.” Cimil tapped the side of her face. “Little J was Gossip Girl, wasn’t she? Sorry, I meant J.Lo.”

“That is not what I meant,” Máax said.

“Oh, good.” Cimil snorted. “I was gonna say… I mean, what kind of ass**le would suggest sacrificing his mate like that?” Cimil shrugged. “Not sure what will happen if you take her back.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re the worst prophet the world has ever known?”

Cimil rolled her eyes. “The world is not over yet so there’s still time for me to come in second.” Her cell phone began to squawk like an irate chicken. “Hold that thought.” She held up her index finger and dug down into the front of her shorts. She pressed the talk button and held it to her ear. “Yo.”

Disgusting, he thought, knowing where that phone had just been.

Cimil turned her back and began pacing the length of her tiny cell. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Corner office, huh? With a view of downtown LA?” Pause. “Oh. And underground parking? And day care one block away? I’ll take it!” She turned, shoved the phone back down her pants, and sighed happily. “So! Where were we?”

“Nowhere,” Máax groaned.

“Ah yes! Nowhere is precisely where you are. So may I suggest that you focus on feeling grateful for what you’ve got instead of not. What else is there to do now? And look at the bright side. At least this way, you’re not going on trial. You’re free to live until doomsday. Unless we magically find a way out of this, in which case you and I are completely hosed. Because we’ve been naughty.” She smiled and stared at the floor. “Really, really naughty. Yessss. I should be punished. Gods, I love being me.” She froze for several moments, convulsed, and then picked up her paddleball from her bed. “Which is why I’m going to enjoy whatever time we have left.”

“No. You’re going to help me fix this mess and stop the end.”

“Nope,” Cimil replied. “I’m going to throw a giant party. We’re going out with a bang. And lots of banging! It’s going to be fornication fabulous.”

“You can’t be serious,” he said.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve gone through this doomsday hullabaloo? Any at all? Six thousand seven hundred and two. I steer us clear of one disaster only to find we’re on a collision course with another. It’s apocalyptic Whac-A-Mole. I’m pooped! It’s time to say thank you to the Universe and celebrate the lives we’ve had. And hump like feral lemurs. ’Cause I like to move it, move it.”