Sun God Seeks…Surrogate? (Accidentally Yours #3)(43)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“Right. Okay. No thinking about Kinich or your problems. Just keep an open mind. I promise this will change your life.”

Wow. Exactly want I needed; more life-changing events.

“Afterward,” she added, “you’ll be in a much better position to deal with”—she waved toward the night sky—“your new world.”

“I don’t want a new world—my old one was great, and I’d really like to get it back. Why doesn’t anyone seem to get that or give a damn, for that matter?”

She gave my hand a comforting squeeze. “Of course we give a damn. More than you know. In fact, there are already plans in motion to rescue your mom and Viktor. The finest, most-skilled warriors on the planet are preparing as we speak. Even Guy and I are going on the mission. Absolutely everything will be done to bring her back safely. So please, Penelope, give me ten minutes. After that, I’ll take you back to Kinich.”

“You really believe I’m like you?”

“Your power is so strong, we could light up a small city with it.”

Me? Power? I guess Emma was also smoking grack. Well, clearly she wasn’t going to take me back until she had her grackhead way. “Fine. Ten minutes. But then we’re going back to Kinich. By the way, what did you mean by ‘cracking Scabs’?”

Emma laughed. “You are so going to love being a Payal, Penelope.”

CHAPTER 24

Emma yanked open the double doors of the cavernous, well-lit auditorium filled with several hundred men—large, shirtless, ripped, sweaty men sparring with swords, poles, and other weapons. When all eyes fell on us, the room became silent and the men motionless, except for their meaty, pumping chests.

Were we crashing their hunky dude party? Whatever was going on, it didn’t appear we were welcome.

“Emma? What is this?”

She pulled me into the sea of burly men. “There’s a special training room I want to show you.”

“Are you sure we’re supposed to be here?” I scanned the silent, shirtless mob of towering soldiers who made way for us.

Unexpectedly, a colossal man with cropped, dark brown hair emerged from the crowd to block our path. He crossed his thick, bare arms over his immense chest.

“Brutus. Good to see you,” Emma said. “Now move.”

He grunted but did not speak.

“Don’t you start with me, too.” Emma wagged a finger in his face.

He stepped forward pushing Emma back.

What an ass! He was a good twelve inches taller and outweighed her by a ton.

He narrowed his eyes and jimmied her back another notch.

My blood began to boil. I didn’t know what was going on between these two, but there was no excuse for a man—especially of his size—to strong-arm a girl.

“What’s the price this time?” she sidled up to him defiantly. “Did Guy promise you that Barbie you’ve had your eye on if you dragged me back to Kinich’s house?”

Barbie? She had to be joking. This guy looked like he ate baby chipmunks for breakfast.

The room erupted with laughter and the brawny man’s face turned bright red. Before I could say, “Yowza,” his arms extended and she flew several yards back, landing on an exercise mat.

What the…My arms shot out, landing a blow in the center of his chest. Fire burst from his pecs, and he flew a good twenty feet. “Touch her again, and the next time it’ll be your balls!” I screamed.

The room fell into a steady stream of sidebar whispers. The sound of laughter came next.

I swiveled on my heel.

Emma rolled onto her back, roaring, gripping her stomach. “Yes! That’s the stuff!”

The brawny man laughed, too.

“What the hell is going on?” I parked my hands on my hips.

Emma flipped onto her stomach and began crawling toward me, still chuckling. “Woo hoo! Payal power!”

What had just happened? I was about to ask, but I didn’t want to believe what I’d just seen, just done.

Denial button…activated!

I took a deep breath and headed for the door. “Take me back to Kinich. Your ten minutes are up.”

***

During the drive back, Emma didn’t attempt to discuss the incident. Maybe the tiny plumes of smoke snaking from my ears or the licks of flames flickering from my fingertips were an obvious sign that I was pissed.

As soon as she pulled into the garage, I stormed from the car—which, by the way, was scorched on the passenger side where I’d been sitting—and marched through the house. I ignored Guy, Gabrán, and a few other unknown faces who stood in the kitchen.

But the moment I laid eyes on Kinich in his bed, my anger dissipated into worry. What if he never woke up? What if my mother never came back? What was happening to me?

I shook my head. This was not a good place to be. I felt helpless and lost. I needed Kinich to get better. I needed his help.

Really now, Penelope, are you sure about that?

He thinks your kind is…a mistake!

“Your” kind? I thought we hit the denial button on that one, Pen.

Shit! I couldn’t play the denial game. That only worked for mundane crap like when your jeans are too tight: You hit the denial button and, magically, the reason isn’t because you splurged on cookies and drank too much wine with the girls, but because you must’ve dried them on the high setting.

Fire coming from your fingertips required a much larger denial tool, as did my entire situation.

Tequila?

Oh yeah.

I made a beeline for the bar in Kinich’s room and found my poison. Boy, these gods sure loved to drink.

I plopped down next to Kinich and pulled out the cork. “Cheers, Sun God!”

I took a large swig and began eyeing his nightstand drawer. Now, up until then I’d resisted taking a peek because it felt pretty low to snoop on a helpless man. But a brand-new world called for brand-new lines of decency.

I slid it open. “A copy of the Popul Vuh?” Autographed by the other gods. Weird.

Several Icy Hot patches. Odd.

And a thick, three-ring binder.

I flipped it open. Each page had a photo of a child with notes, tiny mementos, or letters written in crayon. Page after page. One little girl, whose name was Jenny, had pink ribbons in her blond hair and a toothy smile. Below it was a drawing of two smiling stick figures. Nick and me was written on the paper. Of course, Kinich was portrayed with a giant sun over his head.

Then I noticed handwritten notes in the margins.

“Oh my God. These are children from—”