Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? (Accidentally Yours #3)(39)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

How did he know I so badly needed some? Was it the terror plastered on my crispy red face?

“You need to heal. Perhaps you might benefit from a few hours of relaxation.” His eyes glanced at the wall of running water that separated the bedroom from the bath. And yes, it was a bathroom fit for a god: twice the size of the one attached to my room with a private meditation suite.

Sure. Just what I need. A bubble bath. Then, maybe after, I’ll write some colorful poetry about a fluffy cloud and go frolicking g*yly in the meadow with the baby animals. Happy f**king times!

Was I the only person taking this situation seriously? Something was very, very wrong with Kinich, and I knew it in the pit of my stomach.

I turned to the crazy Scot who I learned was Gabrán, the highest-ranking Uchben chief and a very close friend to Kinich and his brother Guy. He’d explained that they’d encountered these black jade jars once before—the Maaskab had used them to hex the gods’ cenotes—but once the jars were removed from the pools, everything, including any trapped gods, returned to normal, for the most part.

So this situation was clearly different. Wasn’t it time to panic? Panic sounded reasonable and appropriate.

“Isn’t there anything we can do?” I asked.

“We wait,” Gabrán responded. “Wait and pray.”

“That’s what I’ve been doing.” And it had been about as useful as a bacon breath mint.

Gabrán scratched his head. “Whatcha be needing, lass, is tae follow the good doctor’s advice and rest.”

I sighed. He was right; I was a mess. My skin, though beginning to heal, had burns and blisters on every square inch. I resembled a charred tomato. Whatever had happened to Kinich—Hey, you’re calling him Kinich now. What does that mean?—I was certain I’d come within an inch of being cooked alive.

But that was on the outside. On the inside, well, I was already toast. Viktor had been gone more than a day, and though Kinich promised to give him two days before telling anyone, I felt the burning need to say something. What if Kinich’s state was somehow connected to all this? But if I told Gabrán, would that derail Viktor’s chances of rescuing my mother?

Pacing alongside Kinich’s seemingly lifeless body, I agonized over what to do.

What would he want me to do?

I fell to my knees beside the bed for the twentieth time. “Kinich, oh God. Please wake up. Please.” I brushed his forehead, planting gentle coaxing kisses on his pale, stubble-covered cheeks. And when that didn’t work, I reverted to shaking him. “Please, Kinich. Wake up. I don’t know what to do. You have to wake up…” I choked. “I’m sorry I said you were a coward. And a man-whore. And a god-slut. And an arrogant, man-tard. Okay—I never said that last one to your face, but I said it! And I’m sorry! I’ll do anything if you wake up. I’ll even admit you were right about us not having a chance—even though you’re wrong—because it’s completely stupid to think you’re never meant to love—idiot! How can you believe that? Really? But I’ll say it. I will! And if you want, I’ll leave you alone forever. Just…just come back. Tell me what to do,” I blubbered shamelessly.

“Oh, lass.”

I looked up to find Gabrán staring at me with his large, green eyes—a trait many seemed to have in these parts.

“I thought you left.” I plunked my head down on Kinich’s chest, fisting the white T-shirt he now wore.

“With all the caterwauling, I was certain the Scabs had returned. Or a rabid coyote had gotten intae the room.” He shook his head. “Your tears won’t be savin’ him, ya know.”

I grabbed a wad of tissues from the box on the nightstand and wiped my nose. “I don’t understand why he won’t wake up.”

Gabrán shook his head. “Nor do we, lass. Tis perplexing tae say the least. But ya must not give up hope.”

I had to tell him. I had to. There was no way I could hold this in any longer.

I took a deep breath. “I have to say something, and I can only hope you’ll do right with this information.”

He nodded. “Go on.”

“My mother was taken by the Maaskab, and Viktor went after her.”

Gabrán rubbed his chin. “Is that so?”

“Yes. He said something to Kinich about having visions of her for five hundred years. He begged Kinich to give him two days to find her and bring her back before alerting the other gods.”

A long silence followed, then he said, “We ought to tell the General and Votan.”

“You mean Niccolo and Guy?” I couldn’t keep all of these names straight.

“Ay. But first, did he tell you anything else? Anything that might prove helpful tae me and my men?”

“He thinks my mother was a Payal.”

He raised his brows and puckered his lips. “That would explain why the Scabs might be after ya mother and you. But nae what they’ve done to our here Sun God.”

“We have to help him!” I pleaded.

“Ay,” Gabrán replied sympathetically, “but I have a sneakin’ suspicion that only those nasty priests are knowin’ the cure.”

I felt my blood boil. The Maaskab. Who knew I’d ever be capable of such profound hate. But there it was. I hated them. Profoundly.

I felt my face turn an even brighter red and my body heat up like a lobster in a pot. Smoke rose from my shoulders.

I jumped. “Ouch! Son of a bitch!” I swatted the smoldering fabric of my clothes. “What the hell?”

Gabrán watched me with pure amazement. “Did ya just catch yerself on fire, lass?”

I stood there panting. “Yep. I guess I did.”

Then I passed out.

CHAPTER 22

“Penelope. My name is Emma Keane. Can you hear me?” I felt a gentle pat on my arm. “I think she’s waking up,” the female voice whispered.

When my eyes cracked open, they encountered a redheaded woman, about my age, standing next to Gabrán.

Then, one of the largest men I’d ever seen in my life, dressed in dark gray cargo pants and a snug black T-shirt, stormed into the room. His midnight black hair, streaked with indigo blue, hung past his broad shoulders. His angry eyes, a fierce, iridescent turquoise green very similar to Kinich’s, were nothing shy of scary. He even smelled scary, like smoke. Maybe he could give me deodorant tips, since I was now spontaneously catching on fire.