Accidentally…Over? (Accidentally Yours #5)(55)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“You,” Anne said, “may go just as soon as you listen.”

There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. Ohmygod, heeeelp.

The bunny lady lifted a brow. “Really? Really? You went Oz on us?”

They can hear my thoughts?

Bunny lady looked at Anne and Jess. “Wow. This is the chosen one? Thank heavens she doesn’t have to do anything complicated or we’d all be shopping for a new Universe for sure.”

Ashli’s mouth fell open. Then she snapped it shut, closed her eyes, and took a breath, waiting a moment before she reopened them. Dammit. They’re still there!

“Aaaand she’s back. Great.” Jess removed the whistle hanging around her neck and placed it over Ashli’s head. “All you need to do is remember that when the trouble starts, blow that whistle—it’s the only help you’re getting from us. It’s up to you to stop them. Understand?”

Not even. “Blow the whistle and stop them?” Who? From doing what? “Can you be a little more specific? ’Cause I’d really love to know what the hell you’re talking about.”

The three women exchanged glances. “Did you just say ‘hell’ to a group of angels?” they replied in unison.

Ashli sighed. Why did everything have to be so strange? She ran her hands over her face. “I need to get out of here.” Maybe she’d hit her head getting out of the limo.

“No,” Anne said. “You need to stay.”

“Give her the whammy already,” said Jess. “Belch is making pousse-cafés, and I’m not missing out this time. I hear the flame is twelve inches high.”

“Fine.” Anne stepped forward, and Ashli stepped back. “Listen, Ash. I’ll make it short and sweet. Once upon a time, many thousands of years ago, humans were created. And angels—hello, that’s us, if you were wondering—were created to keep watch over humans. The Creator is too busy running the cosmos and all, so she’s gotta have help. Yunno? But it didn’t take long for the Creator to see we weren’t exactly cut out for the job. Not because we don’t rock, but because humans are flawed. We are not. Anywing, we stopped being relevant because we find it hard to relate, because we don’t understand what it’s like to be flawed. Yada yada.

“So the Creator decided to bridge the gap by creating the gods—flawed, quirky, and well, downright childish at times. Great plan, except there’s another problem. Humans evolve. Rather quickly. Which means the gods, too, are fast becoming obsolete. Irrelevant. I mean, really. When’s the last time you saw a new monument built to those clowns? Anywing, the Creator was about to throw in the towel, but we threw down a challenge instead. We saw potential in the gods. So we made a bet; if we could prove the gods capable of evolving, the Creator would let us keep the planet.

“Fast-forward to present day. Some of the gods have made progress—learning humility, how to love and share their power—but it’s not enough. They must all prove they’re capable of real change or we all die; the Creator’s going to scrap the whole terrarium and start over again.”

“What? Scrap? Why? Creator?” Ashli said, holding back an epic meltdown.

“Wow. Ain’t she full o’ them big ol’ words,” said the bunny thug or whatever her name was.

“Why are you telling me all this?” Ashli muttered.

“Because,” Anne said, “sometimes it just takes one person to turn the tides. One simple act. One simple gesture. But it must be out of love.”

“Every ocean starts with one drop of water,” added Jess.

“So tonight,” Anne continued, “when the time comes, you will blow that whistle and do your thing.”

“Huh?” Ashli didn’t quite understand.

“And you will forget”—Anne snapped her fingers—“that we ever had this conversation, but you will remember what you must do.”

“Okay. I will forget. And remember. But are you really…” Her voiced tapered off, and Ashli stood in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror.

What am I doing here? I need a drink!

Ashli wandered out into the party to find a cocktail for her unsteady nerves. She’d been there all of four minutes and had already been threatened by a beekeeper, fended off Máax’s seductive package, been insulted by sex fairies, and then been accosted by…

Hmmm. That’s strange. I can’t remember. What was she about to do?

Find a supersized dirty martini, remember? Hopefully one that didn’t contain anything otherworldly. Just good, old-fashioned vodka or gin. Or both. Hell. Didn’t matter.

She stood on her tiptoes trying to spot the bar. There! A long line of people gathered around an elevated counter. Behind it stood a man who wore nothing but a giant wine barrel with a strap over each shoulder.

She made her way over and watched as he lined up ten glasses and proceeded to pour various multicolored liquids into them like a cocktail assembly line. The tenth glass he lifted to his mouth and gulped it down while people helped themselves to the full glasses. He repeated the task three more times before Ashli moved to the front of the line. The man, tall and rather good-looking, though clearly inebriated and in dire need of a comb, stopped his drink slinging and looked straight at her.

“Coming right up,” he said and began mixing a dirty martini with blue cheese olives. Just the way she liked it.

“But how did you know that’s what I wanted?” she asked as he placed the jumbo-sized martini glass right in front of her.

“He’s Belch, the God of Wine and Intoxication,” said a male voice at her side.

“Brutus. Ohmygod. Hi.”

“It’s been a long time.” He hugged her, but did not let go.

Okay there, big boy. She wiggled loose. “Feels like a few days to me.”

“Twenty years,” Brutus said with regret. “Twenty long years.”

Oh no. Poor guy. Changing subjects.

“So.” She glanced back at the bartender. “Is he really the god of alcohol?”

“The nammme’s Acan,” the bartender slurred and winked at her.

Sure. They have a deity for bees, why not beer, too? Did they have a deity for clearance sales, as well? How about bacon and eggs? Those were important, right?

Ashli simply stared as he whipped up another batch of drinks, then lit them on fire. Wow.

“So. You enjoying the party?” Brutus asked.