Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? (Accidentally Yours #3)(31)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

He nodded once.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

He shook his head no.

I held up a finger. “Give me a sec.”

Vampires are real. Those evil monsters are really some sort of priests who want to kill everyone. Kinich is a god. The Sun God. I’m sitting na**d in the tub. Talking to a god. Of the sun. And I may have slept with him.

Oh God.

It was all making some sort of sad, sad sense in my mind. Kinich’s flash of light had been accompanied by intense heat when the monster had attacked him. And who could forget the heat I felt when I was near him?

Ohhh, the heat of his body. I licked my lips. No wonder I couldn’t resist him, he was a real live god. He radiated sensuality.

Then an odd question popped into my mind. “You didn’t use that mind control thing to get me to like you? Hey—did you say apocalypse? Dammit. Why can’t I think straight when I’m around you? It’s your mind control. Isn’t it? Oh crackers. I’m doing it again.”

“Mind control? Don’t be absurd, woman. I mean, yes. I am gifted with such a skill, but why on earth would I use it in such a situation? Gods are like magnets to mortals. I merely walk into a room, and the females are mine for the taking. I also emit pheromones that interfere with your synapses. Makes you more compliant…But mind control, to make females want me? Never.”

My mouth fell open. He’d been putting the god lust whammy on me the whole time? And there I’d been, prancing around like a lovesick moron. He probably got a huge kick out of it.

“You disgusting! Scummy. Pig!” I burst from the tub and slapped him across the cheek.

His eyes flared with silent rage, but he didn’t flinch. “What the devil was that for?”

“That was for every woman you’ve ever taken advantage of with your lust whammy! I only wish I could slap you once for each of them, but I bet there are thousands, and I don’t want to spend one more minute with you, you…god-slut!”

I swiped a towel from the basket and stormed from the bathroom to the walk-in closet. I’d left my clean clothes in the bathroom so I’d have to grab new ones. I dressed quickly and shoved the remainder of my belongings into my bag. No way was I going to hang out here. Not with him. Not after what he’d admitted.

Nick knocked on the closet door. “Penelope, please listen.”

“No! I’m not listening to you…you scumbag!”

“I am not a scumbag.”

I pulled my still-dripping hair into a ponytail and yanked open the door. “Really? Then what would you call a being such as yourself who uses his ‘gifts’ on innocent women?”

He narrowed his eyes, and for a moment, I could swear flames danced across his pupils. “I do not use my powers to seduce women.”

“You just admitted it!”

He laughed. “Penelope Trudeau, you are jealous.”

Oh, that—that is such…“Bullshit! Why would I be jealous?”

Amused, he crossed his arms. “You must want me. Quite badly judging from your reaction.”

Yes. Yes, I do. “Nooo. No! You’re the one who brought me here. And let’s remember, it was your crazy sister who pulled me into this train wreck you call a life!” I slammed the door in his face.

Wait. If he were a god, would that make his crazy sister was a…?

I grabbed the door handle and pulled. Nick stood inches from my body, staring down at me with a slow burn.

“Is your crazy sister Cimil a goddess?” Please, say no. That would be so, so wrong for humanity.

“Penelope, you need to listen to me. There is more I need to tell you—”

“Answer me!”

“Yes.”

Great! Just great. The crazies are in charge.

“Andrus, too?”

“No. He was once a Demilord—a vampire taken to our realm and given the light of the gods. But now he is a demigod—his maker, the vampire queen, died and therefore his vampire blood died, too.”

Huh? What were these people—um…deities—smoking? God crack?

Grack?

“You know that made zero sense. Right?” I pushed past him to grab my boots near the side of the bed. “But you know what? It doesn’t matter! You could be leprechauns with pots of gold, wanting to make me your queen. I don’t care. I don’t want anything to do with you, Nick!”

I bent over to tie my shoes.

“Leprechauns do not have a queen. And you are not leaving,” he said bluntly.

“Why the hell not?” I barked.

“Because they are nomads.”

Wha-what?

“I’m not even going to ask. But I am going to leave; the last time I checked, my wagon wasn’t hitched to yours, so I can do what I damn well like,” I seethed.

“First, you are very upset. Second, it is not safe; the Maaskab want you, and they will not stop until they have you.”

“Well,” I replied bitterly, “seeing that it’s my life, I think I get to make that choice for myself. By the way, big boy, I don’t need a mother! I already have one.”

Oh no. My mother. I still hadn’t spoken with her.

“Well,” he said coldly, “how would you like for the next time she sees you to be at your funeral? But there won’t be a body. I can guarantee it because the Maaskab won’t leave one behind. So you best accept that your…wagon is hitched to mine.”

Damn this man…deity…“Get out! You man-whore!” I gave him the George Bush Iraqi salute. (I threw my shoe at him.) “Just—get out!”

Nick held up his palms and bowed his head. “As you wish. But for the record,” he said as he turned to leave, “you are the only woman I have, perhaps, been with.” He closed the bedroom door behind him.

Really? He’d never been with anyone? Him?

My anger instantly melted.

Then I gasped.

It was true. I had been jealous. And now that he’d told me I was the only woman he’d “perhaps” been with, I wanted him even more. As irrational and childish as it was, I didn’t want to share him. I wanted to be the only woman—past, present, or future—in his life.

I’m so confused. I burst into tears.

Now, normally, I wasn’t a crier—or a lame shoe thrower—and didn’t waste a lot of time feeling sorry for myself, but the pressure valve needed a little workout or I’d flip.

I saw my purse sitting on the dresser and practically dove for it. I dug out my cell and the piece of paper with the number for my mother’s clinic. I dialed and it finally rang.