Accidentally…Over? (Accidentally Yours #5)(7)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“I need to—”

“Máax,” Cimil said. “Yes. You still have to save her—”

“But—”

“Okay!” she barked. “I’m sorry for introducing you to the one woman in the world who has any chance in hell of making you happy. And perhaps less bitter. And prickish. But what’s done is done and—”

“I killed her,” he blurted out.

Fuck. How had it gone so wrong? He was there with her one moment, the next she was gone.

“You killed her?” Roberto stifled a snicker.

“I did not mean to,” Máax explained. “Irrational, crazy woman. She ran out in front of a bus. There wasn’t even any f**king traffic. It was seven in the godsdamned morning. She just”—he let out an anguished sigh—“ran away.”

Cimil burst with laughter.

“This is not funny.” Perhaps this woman was not really his mate, he thought. Perhaps the Universe and Cimil simply wanted to have a little fun with him. Because he’d never heard of one’s mate fleeing in terror.

But why did it chafe him?

Cimil continued to giggle. “Like hell it’s not funny. I sent you back to save someone, and you get her killed in what—sixty seconds? Nice job, Buck Rogers. Biddy, biddy!” Cimil elbowed Roberto. “Get it? Get it? Biddy, biddy. Like the little robot who always caused problems.” Her laughter died with a sad, little sputter when she noticed Roberto’s cold stare. “Oh, never mind. Listen, Máax, glad you came back to report on the fine work you just did. But—and I mean this with all of the hate in my cold, twisted heart—what the hell are you doing here? We’ve already had two earthquakes. Two! Get your ass back to 1993 and fix it. You still have to save her.”

Hmmm. Good point. What was he doing there? He guessed he had been so shocked by what happened to Ashli that he hadn’t quite known what to do. Thankfully, the bus had been going so fast that she’d not suffered, but that did not make the event any less traumatic. She died. She’d run away from him and died.

“I’m leaving,” he grumbled.

“Thatta boy! And next time, could you come back ten minutes later? Roberto and I need a chance to play hokey-pokey.” She winked.

“Two minutes. Make it two mind-blowing minutes.” Roberto began unzipping his leather pants.

Máax grimaced. Had they no shame? Were they really going to have sex in a cell with a glass wall, with Roberto’s men milling about, and the other gods and their mates drugged, moments from waking up?

“As you wish.” Máax took the tablet—the other had been left behind in 1993—and headed to the conference room in the back of the prison. This time, he would play this out differently. Perhaps save Ashli without revealing his presence. Completely incognito.

Aren’t you forgetting something?

Infernum. Yes, he was. He’d have to rethink the plan. He needed to return to the past. Return to her. Which meant if he wasn’t careful, he might bump into himself. That couldn’t happen. Allowing oneself to overlap, being in the same place at the same time, started a feedback loop similar to reverb on a guitar. It fed off itself, creating a chain reaction of dark, nasty, evil energy that circled the globe, raining down hate and destruction for centuries.

How’d he know? Two words: Cimil and dinosaurs. Oh yes. Humans liked to believe that those giant beasts died when an asteroid crashed to Earth, but nothing could be further from the truth. It was all Cimil. Cimil and her destructive curiosity: “I wonder what it would be like to go back in time and ride a velociraptor?” Apparently, she’d had that thought more than twice and bumped into herself. It wasn’t until the gods started to experience violent episodes of seizures, followed by decades of amnesia and sugar cravings, that they realized what Cimil had done. Not only had she wiped out the creatures and drastically altered the future, but she could’ve destroyed humanity, too.

From that day forward, time travel was banned—no exceptions—and there was a damned good reason for it.

So now what? Not only did a past version of him exist in 1993, the version actually alive at that time, but now there was another version of himself from moments ago.

The ground rumbled violently beneath his feet, causing him to stumble to one side. The dangling overhead lamps swung like a recently vacated trapeze.

Shit… Was this really happening? He scratched his overly scruffy chin. Apparently, it was.

All right. Perhaps if he returned one week earlier than he’d originally encountered Ashli, that would resolve the issue. Yes. That would work. And how hard would it be to ensure they were nowhere near her café on the day of his original visit? He’d figure something out. There’s always a solution.

Is there now?

Yes.

Are you so foolish as to believe that your sister, the Goddess of Forgetfulness, can truly make you forget your mate if we manage to survive this?

What’s-her-face can make anyone forget anything.

He sighed. He hoped he was right about that. Eternal entombment would be bad enough without having to pine away for some female. It would be too much pain and suffering for any being to bear.

Four

January 25, 1993. Save Ashli. Take Two

A day off! A day off! Ashli stretched in her warm bed, savoring her soft, velvety pink sheets. The morning sunlight sieved through her wispy white curtains. It was heavenly to get up after the sunrise for once. Granted, Mexican winters were pretty nice compared to most places, but the shorter days and rising before dawn took its toll on her spirits.

She rolled over and looked at the clock—8:00 a.m. She reached for her phone on the nightstand and stared at the thing. No, Ashli. You promised. Fernando can handle one day by himself. It’s just making coffee, not performing brain surgery.

She blew out a steady breath, knowing how badly she needed this. She hadn’t had a day off in over a year, and that day didn’t really count. She’d been in bed with the flu and simply hadn’t opened the café.

Fortunately, however, her workaholic tendencies had little to do with money. Her parents’ insurance had seen to the basics, but keeping that café alive felt like keeping them alive.

She and her parents had come to Tulum for a family vacation when she was eighteen. They lived in Miami for years and the beach had always been a part of their lives—playtime, summertime, exercise time. But her parents instantly fell in love with Tulum’s rustic charm and virgin white beaches. Then her parents did the unthinkable. They quit their high-paying jobs as lawyers, moved to Tulum, and opened a café. Café Cielito Lindo or “Beautiful Little Sky.” Ashli had gone off to college that year at the University of Michigan to study marketing, but she came for visits every chance she got, and the café became her second home. When she graduated, she planned to spend the summer there, then return to the States where she’d already landed a job in Chicago. That was three years ago. Three long years ago when everything changed in a heartbeat. Her life, her future, everything.